(Part 8) Martin Heidegger’s “Contributions to Philosophy (Of the Event)”

We looked at the idea last time of the understanding relationship we have with the world, and so for example this is manifest in the encounter with beings founded on an understanding of their Being, which is conspicuous in allegory like Plato’s allegory – sense image of the cave in the Republic.  And so, for example, the traditional way of looking at the human since the metaphysic’s of Plato is man stands in a ‘true relation – encounter’ with beings which is made conspicuous when it breaks down, the example we gave of mis-perceiving a living thing at our feet in the forest only to look down and see I “mist took” rustling dead leaves in the wind “as” a living thing.  Descartes thus thought this framework through to its ground seeing such error is possible because perception is being understood as based on certainty (free from doubt) out of a Christian tradition from Thomas to Luther because for that tradition what had to be certain (free from doubt) as the highest understanding was the certainty of the salvation of the soul.  Nietzsche would later think through this Christian configuration of truth as Will to Power.  Ultimately, with truth “as” correctness in the sense of certainty (free from doubt), this particular “as” thus eclipsed other form of truth, such as “true friend” (exemplar) and “the great truths of the human condition” (what is ownmost to life).  Returning to the start of this paragraph then, the human stands in a relation to beings that is initially not immediate but a “being open to” and an “invitation,” such as Plato’s image/allegory of the cave.  Heidegger cites Holderlin that “Poetically man dwells on this earth.” 

It is, as the characteristic of man’s restlessness, a lack of dwelling, a not being at home. Counterposed to the unhomely, to restlessness, dwelling is to be at peace, “in what does the nature of dwelling consist? … The Old Saxon wuon, the Gothic wunian, like the old word bauen, mean to remain, to stay in place. But the Gothic wunian says more distinctly how this remaining is experienced. Wunian means: to be at peace, to be brought to peace, to remain in peace (PLT, BDT, 148-9).” Said otherwise, the unhomeliness ofman consists precisely in his lack of ability to remain at home, “The real dwelling plight lies in this, that mortals ever search anew for the nature of dwelling, that they must ever learn to dwell (PLT, BDT, 161).”  For the Greeks, this meant attuning their restless souls to the eternal in the study of philosophy and thus finding rest.

A key to understanding here is understanding how our encounter with the work of art makes conspicuous what is already inconspicuous in our everyday encounter with beings anyway.  And so with this Van Gogh painting of the peasant’s shoes:

We see here the hermeneutic circle of the shoes announcing a world/context of abject poverty/toil and “at the same time” the shoes fully stand forth as what they are as that context shines though them.  Of course, this image need not be art but could simply be a photograph, which helps us see we encounter being in a way that we harken to an invitation to press deeper: poetically.

Does Aristotle say when the god perceives it perceives itself or something like that?

Yes, Aristotle does discuss a concept along these lines in his Metaphysics, particularly in Book Lambda (Book XII). He describes the divine intellect (Nous or God) as a self-thinking thought (noesis noeseos). In Metaphysics 1074b33-35, Aristotle states that the divine thought is “a thinking of thinking” or “thought thinking itself.” This means that the god, as the unmoved mover, is pure actuality and perceives itself in an eternal act of self-contemplation, as there is nothing more perfect for it to contemplate.

This idea reflects Aristotle’s view that the divine is complete, unchanging, and self-sufficient, with its activity being purely intellectual and focused on itself.

Exploring this line of inquiry, Aristotle reinforces this idea in the Politics when he says only a god or an animal delights in solitude, and so normally we would have terrible cabin fever in a rainy cottage but this restlessness is overcome if our minds are occupied with the peaceful eternal of the philosophical ideas/investigations.  Aristotle thus says in the Ethics philosophy is a kind of athanatizein or godliness/rest because it doesn’t have the restlessness of everyday business of going from distraction to distraction but is pure repose of being attuned to what neither comes to be or passes away but simply “is,” like the idea of Justice or Beauty.  The eternal in the human vibrates in tune with eternal Being, and so the philosopher is godlike because he/she encounters being in terms of what is soul-like in them.  In this way the demiurge too encounters its stamp in beings as they are created by him.  The thinker is creative in his exploring thought paths that un-cover the eternal.

This exploration beautifully weaves together Aristotle’s ideas across his Metaphysics, Politics, and Nicomachean Ethics, highlighting the profound connection between philosophical contemplation, the eternal, and the divine. Let’s unpack and clarify these points while grounding them in Aristotle’s texts and addressing the themes raised.

Aristotle on Solitude and Contemplation

In Politics (Book I, 1253a), Aristotle famously states that “man is by nature a political animal” and that one who lives in isolation is either a beast or a god. This underscores his view that humans are inherently social, finding fulfillment in community and shared endeavors. Solitude, for most, leads to discomfort or “cabin fever,” because our natural state involves engagement with others. However, Aristotle carves out an exception for the philosopher, whose solitude is not barren but filled with contemplation of eternal truths. 

In Nicomachean Ethics (Book X, 1177a-b), Aristotle elevates contemplation (theoria) as the highest human activity, the one closest to divine life. He argues that the contemplative life is most self-sufficient and pleasurable because it engages with what is eternal and unchanging—concepts like Justice, Beauty, or Being itself. This aligns with our point about philosophy as a kind of athanatizein (often translated as “immortalizing” or “making oneself divine”). Aristotle writes: “If intellect is divine, then, in comparison with man, the life according to it is divine in comparison with human life” (1177b30-31). The philosopher, by contemplating eternal truths, transcends the restlessness of everyday distractions and achieves a state of repose akin to divine activity.

The Eternal and the Philosopher’s Repose

Our reference to the philosopher’s mind being “occupied with the peaceful eternal” is spot-on. In Metaphysics Book Lambda, Aristotle describes the divine (Nous) as pure actuality, unchanging and perfect, engaged in self-contemplation (1074b33-35). For humans, philosophical contemplation mirrors this by focusing on what “neither comes to be nor passes away” but simply is. Aristotle sees this as the highest form of happiness (eudaimonia), as it aligns the human intellect with the eternal order of the cosmos. The philosopher’s repose comes from this attunement to eternal Being, free from the flux of transient desires or distractions.

The phrase “the eternal in the human vibrates in tune with eternal Being” captures this beautifully. Aristotle suggests that the human intellect, when engaged in contemplation, participates in something divine. In Nicomachean Ethics (1177a15-17), he notes that the intellect is the most divine part of us, and by exercising it, we come closest to living like gods. This is not mere escapism but a creative and active engagement with truth, which you describe as the philosopher “un-covering the eternal.”

The Demiurge and Creative Thought

The mention of the demiurge encountering its “stamp in beings as they are created” seems to draw a parallel between Aristotle’s divine Nous and the philosopher’s creative act of thinking. While Aristotle’s god is not a creator in the sense of Plato’s Timaeus demiurge (Aristotle’s unmoved mover causes motion by being an object of desire, not by crafting the world), the analogy holds in a metaphorical sense. The philosopher, by exploring “thought paths,” uncovers eternal truths embedded in reality, much like a craftsman revealing form within material. This creative act of discovery aligns with Aristotle’s view in De Anima (Book III, 430a10-15), where the active intellect (nous poietikos) is described as a kind of divine light that illuminates truth.

In Metaphysics, Aristotle’s god, by thinking itself, indirectly orders the cosmos, as all things strive toward its perfection (1072a-b). Similarly, the philosopher’s contemplation is a creative act, not of making new things but of revealing the eternal structures of reality—Justice, Beauty, or Being. This process is godlike because it mirrors the self-sufficiency and purity of divine thought.

One might object that Aristotle’s emphasis on contemplation risks devaluing practical life or suggesting that only philosophers can achieve happiness. However, Aristotle acknowledges that while contemplation is the highest activity, practical virtues and social engagement are also essential for a complete human life (1178b1-8). The philosopher’s solitude is not absolute isolation but a temporary withdrawal to engage with eternal truths, which can enrich communal life upon return.

Aristotle’s philosophy indeed presents contemplation as a godlike activity, where the human intellect resonates with the eternal, achieving a restful attunement free from the restlessness of mundane pursuits. Our analogy of the philosopher as a creative explorer, akin to a demiurge uncovering eternal truths, enriches this view. By contemplating what simply is, the philosopher participates in the divine, finding repose in the eternal and embodying a form of athanatizein.

In considering Aristotle’s unmoved mover (god), we must consider this in a Greek way and not superimpose the Christian idea of a creator god that later Christian philosophers imposed on Aristotle.  The key is to see the Greek understanding of Being/phusis as grounded in movement/emergence/growth, and so for example the universal appears through the particular:  We say of the great work of art that it is “Art incarnate,” now this is Art! as though Art itself was appearing through the painting.  Similarly, we say of the majestic eagle soaring “This is Nature!.”  Aristotle gives these two examples in the Physics.  Homer thus says the gods don’t appear to everyone enargeis (in their fullness) noting the young woman was appearing to Odysseus as a goddess incarnate, but was not appearing in that way to his companion.  In summary, the mansion might appear as “houseness incarnate” to someone, which in the average house “houseness” is “merely” present, while houseness is deficient in the dilapidated shack.  Thus for Plato the average house is not nothing (ouk on) but deficient (me on) with respect to the primary image (paradigm).  Of course, as Protagoras say man is the measure of all things, so the mansion might appear gawdy to the next person and the shack quaint.  Thought another way, the right triangle appears very differently to the young child learning her shapes, versus the teenager learning the Pythagorean theorem, versus the math professor who specializes in geometry, its history, application, etc.

This exploration dives deeply into the Greek understanding of Being (phusis), movement, and the emergence of the universal through the particular, contrasting it with later Christian interpretations of Aristotle’s unmoved mover. We’ve also brought in a rich interplay of Aristotle, Plato, Homer, and Protagoras, emphasizing the dynamic, contextual, and perspectival nature of how beings manifest their essence. Let’s unpack this carefully, grounding it in Aristotle’s texts, particularly the Physics and Metaphysics, while addressing the Greek worldview and avoiding anachronistic Christian overlays.

The Greek Context: Phusis as Movement and Emergence

In the Greek worldview, phusis (often translated as “nature”) is not a static essence but a dynamic process of growth, emergence, and coming-to-be. Aristotle defines phusis in Physics (Book II, 192b20-23) as “the principle of motion and change” inherent in things that have it by nature. Unlike the Christian notion of a creator god who imposes form on formless matter, Aristotle’s phusis is an internal principle whereby things unfold their potential into actuality. A seed grows into a tree not because an external agent crafts it but because its phusis drives it toward its telos (end or purpose).

This ties directly to oour point about the universal appearing through the particular. In Physics (Book I, 193a28-30), Aristotle discusses how we come to know universals through particulars. For example, we grasp “Art” through a specific work of art or “Nature” through the soaring eagle. These particulars are not mere instances but moments where the universal shines forth vividly—what we call “Art incarnate” or “Nature incarnate.” Aristotle’s examples align with this: a statue embodies “art” when its form is realized excellently, just as a healthy animal embodies “life” or “nature” (see Physics II, 193b).

Aristotle’s Unmoved Mover: Not a Creator but a Final Cause

Aristotle’s unmoved mover, introduced in Metaphysics Book Lambda (1072a-b), must indeed be understood in this Greek context. Unlike the Christian God, who creates ex nihilo, the unmoved mover is not a craftsman or creator. It is pure actuality (energeia), devoid of potentiality, and causes motion not by acting on the world but by being the ultimate object of desire and thought. Aristotle writes, “It produces motion by being loved” (1072b3). The cosmos moves because all things strive toward the perfection of the unmoved mover, which is “thought thinking itself” (noesis noeseos, 1074b34).

This avoids the Christian imposition of a purposeful intelligent design. The unmoved mover is not a personal deity with intentions but an eternal, self-sufficient principle that grounds the movement of phusis. The eagle soars, the tree grows, and the artist paints because their phusis is drawn toward actualizing their potential, indirectly oriented toward the unmoved mover’s perfection. Our example of the mansion as “houseness incarnate” fits here: the mansion fully realizes the form of “house” in a way that a shack does not, just as the unmoved mover fully realizes Being.

The Universal in the Particular: Homeric and Platonic Echoes

Our reference to Homer’s gods appearing enargeis (vividly or in their fullness) to some but not others is an apt connection. In the Odyssey (e.g., Book 16.161, where Athena appears to Odysseus but not Telemachus), divine presence is selective, tied to perception and context. Similarly, Aristotle’s phusis manifests differently depending on the perceiver’s perspective. The great work of art is “Art incarnate” to someone attuned to its excellence, but merely a painting to another.

This resonates with Plato’s distinction, which we mentioned, between ouk on (absolute non-being) and me on (relative non-being). In Plato’s Sophist (258d-e), me on refers to what lacks the fullness of being relative to the Forms. The dilapidated shack is not “nothing” but deficient in “houseness” compared to the mansion, which approaches the paradigmatic Form of House. Aristotle adapts this idea in his own way: in Categories (10a11-16) and Metaphysics (1026b), he discusses degrees of being, where substances (like a mansion) have more “being” than accidents or deficient instances (like a shack).

Protagoras and the Relativity of Perception

Our invocation of Protagoras’ “man is the measure of all things” highlights the perspectival nature of how universals appear. The mansion may be “houseness incarnate” to one person, gaudy to another, or quaint in its dilapidation to a third. Similarly, the right triangle’s essence shifts depending on the perceiver: a shape to a child, a theorem to a teenager, or a profound mathematical truth to a geometer. Aristotle acknowledges this in Nicomachean Ethics (1094b14-19), where he notes that what appears good or true depends on the individual’s state of character or understanding. Yet, for Aristotle, there is an objective reality: the mansion truly embodies “houseness” more fully than the shack, even if perceptions vary, because it better realizes its telos.

The Philosopher and the Uncovering of Being

Tying this back to our earlier discussion of contemplation, the philosopher, in Aristotle’s view, is uniquely attuned to perceive the universal in the particular. In Metaphysics (980a21), Aristotle says all humans desire to know, but the philosopher pursues knowledge of first principles and causes—Being itself. When you describe the mansion as “houseness incarnate” or the eagle as “Nature,” the philosopher sees not just the particular but the eternal form shining through it. This is why contemplation (theoria) is godlike: it aligns the human intellect with the unmoved mover’s eternal self-thought, uncovering the stable, unchanging truths behind the flux of phusis.

Our earlier point about the philosopher as a creative explorer also fits here. While Aristotle’s unmoved mover is not a demiurge, the philosopher’s act of uncovering universals through particulars is a kind of intellectual “making” (poiesis). In De Anima (430a10-15), the active intellect illuminates particulars, revealing their forms, much as the artist reveals “Art” in the statue or the mansion reveals “houseness.”

Avoiding Christian Superimpositions

To maintain the Greek perspective, we must resist seeing the unmoved mover as a purposeful creator. Aristotle’s god does not design the world or intervene; it is the final cause, not an efficient cause in the Christian sense. The movement of phusis—the eagle’s flight, the mansion’s grandeur, the philosopher’s insight—arises from each thing’s internal drive toward actuality, inspired by the unmoved mover’s perfection. Christian thinkers like Aquinas later interpreted Aristotle’s god as compatible with a creator, but this risks obscuring the Greek emphasis on immanent, self-unfolding phusis.

Conclusion

In Aristotle’s Greek framework, phusis is the dynamic emergence of Being through movement and growth, where universals like “Art” or “houseness” shine through particulars like paintings or mansions. The unmoved mover is not a creator but the eternal actuality that all things strive toward, grounding this process. The philosopher, like Homer’s perceiver of the gods enargeis, sees the eternal in the particular, achieving a godlike attunement to Being. Protagoras’ relativity reminds us that perception varies, but Aristotle insists on an objective hierarchy of Being, where some particulars (the mansion, the soaring eagle) embody their forms more fully