In Umbris Sancti Petri

After a grand total of 3 blog posts in January (including this one), it's obvious that my performance as cyber-narrator/author has been faltering. I do have a (or many) good excuse(s).

First: taking more than a full load of graduate philosophy courses this semester is already taking its toll; nothing too bad, but certainly a strain on my time commitments. But that's okay. That's why I'm here.

Second: my attempts to get accepted into a PhD program upon completion of my M.A. are already underway. Hence, I'm already forced to think about research topics, funding opportunities, etc. And that is no small worry.

So, I guess that makes two good excuses—and a whole host of smaller, more negligible ones. I assure you, though, I have not forgotten about the blog! And I will be making efforts to post whenever possible.

Just don't complain if all I can think to write about is philosophy...

In a society ever-growing in its urge for secularization—both culturally as well as religiously—the question of atheism versus theism is a timely one. Particularly, the question being asked by many philosophers and theologians alike is: "What does God contribute the nature of moral decision making?" or, put alternatively, "Is moral action possible for atheists, or is morality something peculiar to theists alone?"

A recent book, Is Goodness Without God Good Enough?, takes hold of this question from a variety of angles. Beginning with a famous 2001 debate between philosophers William Lane Craig and Paul Kurtz (who argue the theistic and atheistic positions respectively), the authors of the book have compiled a host of essays, which seek to ultimately discern 1) just what is at the heart of asking the question, "Is goodness without God good enough?," as well as 2) what the proper response to such a question would look like.

Throughout the book, Paul Kurtz's position seems to run as follows: in the course of human history, atheist have proven time and again to have demonstrated great moral rectitude and uprightness, despite their non-belief in God. Therefore, it is generally visible that belief in God is not a necessary condition for the exercise of moral action. On the other hand, Craig argues this: that although belief in God is not necessary for moral rectitude, God's existence alone suffices in making moral decisions truly moral. In other words, he supposes that God's perfect nature is the only true source of a moral code that is both objectively recognizable, as well as universally applicable. The two thinkers go back and forth, debating one another on these points, and trying to discern whether or not God is really essential for moral living.

Here's a spoiler: in the end, there still remains a great bit of obscurity. Craig addresses the meaning of the question, while Kurtz continually runs the end-around on his opponent, refuses to deal with the challenges leveled against his own position.

Nevertheless, the contributions made by the book's various essays, which critique the actual Craig-Kurtz debate, are quite noteworthy. Although, I would say, there isn't a great deal of substantial 'progress' that occurs in terms of answering the actual question of the debate, there are nonetheless some insightful perceptions about just what it means to talk about morality as strictly non-religious versus morality as inherently religious. This, I think, is a good thing, since the typical arguments taken up by atheists and theists alike, in such a situation, are unlikely to change much unless there is some alteration of the terms of engagement. (For a reasonable approximation of this sort of usual deadlock in a 'real world' scenario, visit Austin Cline's atheism blog at About.com.)

Although Is Goodness Without God Good Enough? doesn't settle for me much about the atheist-theist debate on the whole, it does make some notable observations which are helpful for anyone seeking to understand more fully the nature of the debate on morality, and how it relates (or does not relate) to religion. I would encourage those interested to read the book, which is a fairly easy read, and certainly serves as a helpful gateway into one of the most pressing problems of our era.

More from the annals of Christmas break thoughtfulness...

This topic is something we all face, and as Christians in the Western world, something we undoubtedly face with a little skepticism at times. At least I do. What am I talking about? The giving of Christmas gifts (or any holiday-related gifts, for that matter). 'What does it mean to give a gift to another person at Christmastime? How should I be disposed to others in a spirit of generosity that is authentically Catholic?'


Maybe I'm over-philosophizing—it wouldn't be the first time. But I think there is something worthwhile about critically assessing even the most basic attitudes we maintain (and, moreover, are expected to maintain) in our Church and our society. Generosity—or perhaps most generally, charity—is the fundamental disposition of the active Christian. It is the very thing that defines our conviction: God-made-man gave himself entirely so that we might be free to give ourselves entirely back to the Father. It is the purpose of the Incarnation. For that reason, it is something strongly encouraged on the Feast of the Incarnation—Christmas.

But, in order to imitate Christ's self-gift most fully, we are also expected to understand why it is that we are called to give. The response (like most things Catholic) is very simple, yet truly profound: we are called to give ourselves for the sake of love, and nothing else. As such, our gift-giving disposition should be one of genuine love, and nothing less. By giving a gift, we are not only symbolically recalling the gift of Christ as man for our salvation, but are actively and truly called to love another person by our generosity and disposition of service.

Obviously, lots of things cloud our focus here: 'Perhaps I am giving because I feel compelled to by the "spirit of Christmas." If so, is my gift worthless? Shouldn't I be giving out of pure love and not coerced expectation? But if I don't give gifts now, with imperfect motives, what will prompt me to give gifts later, when my motives are "more pure"? Isn't generosity itself, even if impurely motivated, the only means to a disposition toward charity that is most authentic and real?'

Certainly, hardly any gift is given out of absolute generosity—even the most faithful Christians have some degree of affection for the rewarding feeling that accompanies a well-received gift. This is understandable, and I think anyone would be hard-pressed to admit otherwise. But just because we as humans are oriented as such does not mean that authentic charity is a hopeless case. Just because we look forward to making someone happy (for whatever reason) does not mean that we ought not strive for purity in our dispositions. In fact—and this is the very 'Catholic' part of things—it is only by giving imperfectly that we will ever learn to give perfectly. In other words, learning to give from the genuine surrender of the heart is not something learned by theoretical prowess, but by practical trial and error.

This is something I often forget. (And I offer my apologies to those whom it affects.)

Giving, whether it be at Christmastime, birthdays, or any day of the year, ought never to be something overly calculated. Nor should it be something done out of mere coercion. Rather, in order to be truly Christian, it has to fall somewhere in between. Both extremes can teach us something or other about what it really means to give a gift—theory teaches us the importance of motivation, and expectation teaches us the importance of painful persistence. But in the end, giving a gift is an imperfect thing. It is an imperfect thing that seeks the perfection of the one true Gift, the gift of Jesus for the salvation of the world.