In Umbris Sancti Petri

Ideological Catholicism and the Great Commandment

2010-01-26T06:16:00.004-05:00

The pitfalls of "Liberal" and "Conservative" Catholicism in the last 40 years are open for all to see. One of the more recent critiques of ideological Catholicism has been issued by Francis Cardinal George in his new book, The Difference God Makes. In this book Cardinal George calls for a Catholicism neither on the left, right or center, just simply Catholicism. The amount to which the Catholic experience in the United States has been fused with the political experience of a two party system and all the false dichotomies entailed is quite astonishing. This is not to say that the faith can exist in some abstract, a priori time warp, immune from the weaknesses and wickedness of our culture, but only that we should be particularly sensitive to the danger of morphing the faith into something it is not by viewing reality and God's Church through the lens of the modern American political experience.

The contemporary scandal of "Liberal" and "Conservative" Catholicism is nothing other than Satan's victory over our strengths, that is right, our strengths. The Evil One likes nothing more than to turn a great good into a vice, through the exploitation of good intentions. The situation is actually a distortion of the great two tiered commandment which the Lord Himself taught us.

"On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. 'Teacher,' he asked, 'what must I do to inherit eternal life?' 'What is written in the Law?' he replied. 'How do you read it?' He answered: 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind; and, 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' 'You have answered correctly,' Jesus replied. 'Do this and you will live.'" (Luke 10:25-28)

On the so called "Liberal" or "Progressive" side of the "Catholic spectrum," everything tends to implode into the second part of the great commandment so that social justice, soup kitchens and committees which "build community" become the center of our Christian experience. The faith thus becomes flattened and the vertical dimension vanishes, only to be replaced by an all inclusive "faith based" social network to promote human flourishing which in turn becomes a substitute for faith in the God Who reveals Himself in Jesus Christ. People forget that philanthropy and human compassion do not equal Christian charity. Many people who are pro-abortion and pro "gay marriage" are very generous in their donations to humanitarian programs. One need look only to Hollywood and even in our own cities. Giving money to poor people and working in a soup kitchen, as noble as these actions are, do not equal a morally virtuous life or a right relationship with God.

On the so called "Conservative" side of the "Catholic spectrum," everything tends to be imploded into the first part of the great commandment so that Church initiatives and speaking out against abortion and homosexuality become the center of our Christian experience. Defending the unborn and standing up for the traditional family are not only laudable, but they are necessary for every Christian. However, they are not enough, such that they exhaust the conditions for entering into life [salvation]. "Conservative" Christians also must be generous with the poor and live a life that is sober and temperate in its habits of consumption and lifestyle. They need to make their proper contribution to whichever community they find themselves in and not trick themselves into thinking that talking about holy things makes one holy. Orthodoxy, right belief, does not equal orthopraxy, right action. Only both, together at the same time, fulfill the condition for "entering into life."

The Evil One's trick is to make people focus on one part of the great commandment to such an extent that they neglect the other. This twisting of goods imperils one's soul precisely because one cannot love God, whom they have not seen, if they do not love their neighbor who they can see. They, however, cannot love their neighbor well who do not love God through right faith, conversion and prayer. The awful condemnation that God utters towards those to be cast into "eternal fire" is because of neglect toward their neighbor in charity.

In the Office of Readings for the second Sunday after Christmas, Saint Augustine writes the following:

"Diligendo proximum, et curam habendo de proximo tuo, iter agis. Quo iter agis, nisi ad Dominum Deum, ad eum, quem diligere debemus ex toto corde, ex tota anima, ex tota mente? Ad Dominum enim nondum pervenimus, sed proximum nobiscum habemus. Porta ergo eum, cum quo ambulas, ut ad eum pervenias, cum quo manere desideras."

- Ex Tractatibus sancti Augustini episcopi in Ioannem (CCL 36, 174-175)

(By loving one's neighbor, and by having care for your neighbor, you take the journey. Where do you take the journey, if not to the Lord God, to Him, Whom we must love out of our whole heart, out of our whole soul, and out of our whole mind? Truly, we have not yet arrived at the Lord, but we have our neighbor with us. Therefore, carry him, with whom you walk, in order that you may come to Him, with Whom you desire to remain.)

Let us beg the Lord to avoid the traps of ideological Catholicism and pray that we become faithful, loving Christians in a world where the light of faith risks being extinguished.

Faith, Reason & Existentialism?: A Reconciliation

2010-01-16T11:26:00.006-05:00

Three words that don't normally go together—that's for sure. But what do our understandings of faith, reason and existentialism have in common?

Frankly, I think, quite a bit.

Considering the relationship between faith and reason—as the followers here at IUSP know—is simply a part of the Christian life. Creation is both reasonable as well as mysterious, and in order to apprehend it completely, we must be willing to implement our rational faculties on both levels (viz. the levels of empirical observation as well as the penetration of what lies beyond). Faith and reason, for the Christian, are inextricably related.

But how do they relate to "existence"? Or, for that matter, to the ever-popular but rarely-understood phenomenon of "existentialism"?

If you're guessing the title of this article was a ploy by the author to pull in some extra Google hits, you wouldn't be far off. But I never disappoint! There is a connection, I assure you; but before diving right in, we have to frame the question a little more completely: What is existentialism, after all? And why should we be concerned with it?

What is Existentialism?

Most basically, existentialism is a term that denotes some sort of primacy regarding the act of existence itself (the actus essendi, for you Thomists). By and large, no matter their creed, upbringing or historical circumstances, existentialists always tend to focus on this precedence of "being" over and above that of "essence" (or formality). Still, however, the word, "existentialism," is about as generic as "philosophy"; and there is really no textbook definition worth memorizing. Different brands of existentialism (materialist, atheist, Christian, etc.) all understand their own purpose differently, and it's hard to put a finger on any sort of universal, 'existentialistic essence.'

But, despite its somewhat opaque definition, the idea of existentialism is one not far from the heart of the Christian intellectual tradition. In my estimation, a sort of existential hermeneutic is very helpful in unlocking the deep connections between faith and reason, and between the existence of God and the existence of things in the world.

Existentialism in St Thomas Aquinas

As it turns out, a certain application of existentialism can be found even in the work of St Thomas Aquinas—the Christian philosopher most often pitted against modern trends—who accounts for the relationship between God and the world on the basis of the preeminence of "being," or esse. (Thomists of the Strict Observance, prepare to strike.) In the words of the famous 20th century Thomist, W. Norris Clarke:

"[...] actual existence [for Thomas] is not merely a static state or minimum 'fact'—i.e., the mere extrinsic referent of a true assertion—but an intensive inner act of presence within the thing itself which grounds the mental assertion about it: a kind of qualitative energy (virtus essindi [sic]: the power of be-ing, in St. Thomas’s words)." (The Philosophical Approach to God, p. 62)

In layman's terms, Clarke's position (and my own) can be translated thus: that for something "to be"—to exist—is not simply for it "to-occur-in-accordance-with-its-formal-definition"; but rather, each existent thing possesses of itself a certain "power of be-ing" that propels it, as it were, along its life in the world.

At bottom, Clarke's understanding of Thomistic metaphysics can very rightly be termed "existential." But it is an existentialism grounded firmly and without apology in an assent to the existence of God on the basis of rational, intelligible evidence in his primary (and necessary) act of existence. And, moreover, it is a theory that resonates strongly with the way we, as individuals, experience the world around us: namely, not as some "static state" of "minimum facts," but as invigorated and vibrant.

For those familiar with Thomas' emphasis on "participation" between finite, created objects and their divine and exemplary forms in the mind of God, this Christian existentialism has even more force. For Thomas, we are able to regard "being" as primary precisely because God's "being" (his esse) is synonymous with his essence; and this purely actual essence, which contains in itself the exemplary forms of all created objects, propels those objects into the world, and creates them in the same act by which it knows them. Si secundum unam causam Deus omnibus existentibus esse tradidit, secundum eamdem causam sciet omnia. (De Ver. Q. 2, A. 4)

Existentialism, Faith and Reason

Here, we can make a few connections between faith, reasons and existentialism that were before less apparent. In fact, we can even begin to understand existentialism—in a certain application—as that which links the other two.

If, as St Thomas suggests, a thing's (rational) intelligibility is bound up entirely in its conformity to some exemplary idea—and if its actual presence in the real world (ens reale) is charged with a "power of be-ing" that can only come from something beyond its basic materiality—then we have real reason to believe that a more supreme, absolute Being is ultimately its cause (even if we can't see or touch this Source directly); and we call this Being, this Source, "God."

Ultimately, to redeem "existentialism" from its unfortunate bonds of 20th century, secular humanism and atheism is a big charge; but it's not insurmountable. Existentialism is not inherently opposed to Christian faith, and to the value of informed reason. And, on the contrary, in some ways it is the truest expression of that faith. When discerned through the lens of the existential hermeneutic, reality becomes even more alive, and even more "Christian," in the fullest sense of the word: God, its Source, is made ever more tangible by way of the universal "power" of existence; but he is still divine, and although he 'touches' the world, he is not a part of it.

References

Clarke, W. Norris. The Philosophical Approach to God: A New Thomistic Perspective.
(New York, New York: Fordham University Press, 2007)

Benedict, Marini & the Importance of the 'Reform of the Reform'

2010-01-11T12:12:00.002-05:00

There's been a lot of buzz lately in the Catholic news outlets about one of my favorite topics: liturgy. And I'm eager to share a few thoughts of my own on the matter...

There was a time in my life (not all that long ago) when "liturgy," for me, was not much more than a physical expression of some poorly-formed and weakly grasped ideology--one that took issue with Reformation-esque practices as (in the words of Hilaire Belloc) a "profound cleavage" from the traditions of Roman Catholicism. But, at the heart of my rash reactionism was a poor understanding of just what that Roman Catholic tradition meant for the history of Western civilization as a whole; and, accordingly, a grasp of what the Protestant influence meant for its future.

I've come to the (slightly) more informed realization, recently, that the Church's influence on culture and tradition has not merely offered a sense of universal significance to something that was otherwise without, but rather that its very importance is entirely and inextricably united with the basic, cosmological significance of history and tradition as it has always unfolded and developed. And nowhere is this more clear than in the Catholic liturgy.

Thankfully, this opinion is more than simply personal. And, in the last few days, it has been echoed strongly by papal emcee and liturgist, Msgr Guido Marini, in his comments regarding the "reform of the reform" of Catholic liturgy. In short, Marini asserts that the liturgy celebrated by the Catholic Church should have a character of historical continuity. "I purposely use the word continuity," says Marini, "a word very dear to our present Holy Father. [...] He has made it the only authoritative criterion whereby one can correctly interpret the life of the Church." (CNS)

What is more "Catholic" than "catholicism": that is, universality, interwovenness, and the highest sense of "continuity"? And, conversely, what is more "Protestant" than an affront to such continuity (often expressed even overtly in terms of "non-denominationalism" or post-enlightened "egalitarianism")? If there is no clear series of precedence, then there is no possibility for continuity.

What I saw initially as a "profound cleavage" from Roman tradition--the Reformed infiltration of the Catholic liturgy--was a valid perception. But without attempting to comprehend the absolute depth of such cleavage, my mindset was one aimed merely at fixing the problem at hand, and not at seeking to repair the damaged roots of a thorough and complete break with the sensus fidei. "The liturgy cannot and must not be an opportunity for conflict," says Marini; yet the reformist mentality of the late 20th century amounted almost entirely to nothing but a conflict with the stated and perennial traditions of the Church for centuries before.

As Marini is keen to point out, the real work of faithful Catholics in the 21st century--for those who wish not simply to profess the faith, but to live, preserve and pray it by their deeds and practices--lies in promoting an understanding of the liturgy that is, above all, wholly Christian, and wholly undivided and non-partisan. "Fixing the glitch" is not a sufficient response to the deep wounds inflicted by the Protestant mentality of spiritual individualism (or what Belloc calls the "alienation of the soul"). Instead, Catholics must follow the example of the Holy Father, Pope Benedict XVI, by further grasping the true meaning of liturgy (theologically) and by evangelizing their fellow Christians on its deep importance in the life of faith.

"I have learned to deepen my knowledge these past two years in service to our Holy Father," admits Marini. "He is an authentic master of the spirit of the liturgy, whether by his teaching or by the example he gives in the celebration of the sacred rites."

Indeed, Pope Benedict has never modeled an attitude of reactionism; but instead always an attitude of genuine appreciation and profound love for the beauty of the liturgy that is possessed simply by virtue of its supernatural character. Benedict and Marini speak of the "reform of the reform" not because they are Reformers, but instead because they realize the importance of eradicating the very mentality of the Reformation by way of a thoroughly Catholic "hermeneutic of continuity."

The 'Prosperity Gospel' in Action

2009-12-29T13:38:00.000-05:00

The "prosperity gospel" is a phenomenon well-known to Americans: it makes prayer equivalent to monetary donation, and salvation coincidental with prosperous financial success. And it's a lie.

More than simply distorting the words of the authentic Gospels of the Church, the "prosperity gospel" distorts what is at the heart of Christian teaching—namely, to surrender oneself to the divine Providence, and to approach God not with grasping firsts, but with open palms. In short, it transforms true Christian divinization into that of a pagan cult.

In the video below, an American camera crew explores the ravishing effect the "prosperity gospel" is having on African nations. In the face of abject poverty, they are willing to do anything to survive; and pitched to them in the words of the 'gospel,' prosperity looks ever sweeter.

The Prosperity Gospel from The Global Conversation on Vimeo.

For an interesting take on "prosperity" evangelization, check out this post from Jordan J. Ballor at the Acton Institute's PowerBlog.

Wisdom Vindicated by Her Works

2009-12-11T11:03:00.001-05:00

The Lord speaks clearly today in the Gospel for those who put an emphasis on learning and knowledge: if one is truly knowing and wise, then he will be vindicated by his works. (cf. Mt 11:19)

It's always a struggle to discern whether or not, as a teacher, I'm educating my students in the best way possible. I am continually forced to ask myself the question (and "forced" is no understatement): am I acting in the name of divine Wisdom, or in the name of selfish expectation?

This morning at Mass, I was comforted (and challenged) by the words of Scripture: "Wisdom is vindicated by her works." Of course, this leads me to think that the only reasonable alternative is that selfish expectation is condemned by its works.

Christian education is a tricky thing--not only because it involves Christians (who by their nature are self-acclaimed sinners), but also because it aims to approach what is wholly and utterly divine: the Wisdom of God itself. And if God's Wisdom is glorified in its works, then the life of a Christian teacher must also be steeped in wise and glorifying actions.

Nonetheless, contrary to our own intuitive designs, the greater glorification of God often comes by insuring that those in our charge (as Christian teachers of the faith) will be made capable of glorifying God freely in their own lives.

As I reflect on Christ's words to his disciples--that "wisdom is vindicated by her works"--yesterday's Gospel passage comes to mind, in which Jesus speaks of John the Baptist as the greatest of all men born of women. (cf. Mt 11:11) It was John's entire kerygmatic leitmotif that he must decrease while the Messiah must increase. (cf. Jn 3:30)

And it is the same passion that must infect every Christian teacher: namely, that the glory of God must increase in the aggregate, while selfish expectation decreases in the individual. Moreover, we must believe that if we teach the Wisdom of God authentically, and with dedication to the intricacies and beauties of its form, God's glorification by the many will be the glorification of God by the teacher. After all, since Christ is the true teacher, what else can we do than make ourselves as small as possible, and know that God himself--in his Wisdom--will vindicate our works of humility and virtue?

This is a monumental charge for anyone, and particularly for me, still seeking the grace fully to allow the Lord to be glorified, instead of expecting to glorify him by my own merit.

Please pray for me, and for my students.

To Russia with Nuncios

2009-12-10T17:35:00.005-05:00

Who calls Russia by its official name: the Russian Federation?

Apparently the Vatican press office, which recently released a statement indicating that Rome and Russia are soon to be trading top agents.

According to the Vatican Information Service, "the Holy See and the Russian Federation, in the desire to promote their mutual friendly relations, have decided by joint agreement to establish diplomatic relations, at the level of apostolic nunciature on the part of the Holy See and of embassy on the part of the Russian Federation."

Pretty straightforward news—but equally as groundbreaking.   

The new concord comes after Thursday's meeting of Pope Benedict XVI with Russia's premier, Dmitri Medvedev. But despite the "cordial" atmosphere of the encounter, Vatican officials are saying that a papal visit to the Kremlin isn't likely. (New York Times)

Still, if the Holy Father's recent dealings with the Eastern Orthodox patriarchs have anything to do with this...I wouldn't rule such a visit entirely out of the question.

A Worthy Project

2009-12-06T10:36:00.003-05:00

I've got a bit of a guilt complex about using In Umbris Sancti Petri as a launchpad for other projects but...

...for those who haven't, please consider checking out the work being done over at ProLife ProPatria. If you like what you read here, you will most certainly enjoy the discussions there!

Since founding ProLife ProPatria about one year ago, Matthew Barry and I—along with a whole new team of writers, editors and consultants—have been plugging away, making our website as worthwhile and informative as possible. And now, finally, after a year of hard work, we think we're onto something big.

In the beginning of 2010, we'll be making a push to incorporate ProLife ProPatria as a 501(c)(3) not-for-profit organization. This will help us to solidify our structure, bring on-board even more top-notch authors and editors, and provide the basis for financial stability over the next years.

Currently, we are looking for anyone who might be able to offer valuable connections (individuals, companies, dioceses, universities, etc.) that might help us to get off the ground in a real way, and maybe even form long-lasting partnerships in this important field of bioethics and Catholic social theory.

Over the last month, In Umbris Sancti Petri has seen "hits" from viewers around the globe—from 62 countries, and 36 states. I hope that you all who've been reading these pages will consider supporting an even greater project; and that you'll pass the word on to friends and colleagues who may also be interested.

For now, I'll do my best to keep things up-to-date here (as well as there).

Oh, and did I mention that I'm getting married in a month?!

Benedict: The 'True Philosopher'

2009-11-12T15:03:00.000-05:00

It's been a while since I've said much about the whole reason I started this blog in the first place. After all, what would In Umbris Sancti Petri be without the successor Petri?

So what is the pope up to these days, you might ask?

Well, aside from promulgating apostolic constitutions that bring Anglicans back into communion with Rome and making pastoral visits to his flock (at home and abroad), Pope Benedict has been doing what good popes do. That is, teaching the faith.

Most recent on the roster of papally endorsed lessons has been the historical development of monastic and scholastic schools of theology--a trend that endures also throughout Ratzinger's earlier work. Since its October 28th inception at the Wednesday audiences, the topic has seen two subsequent installments; which leads one immediately to the question: "Why?"

Naturally, as an interested student of philosophy and theology myself, I'm a big advocate of the integration of faith and reason. And I think that Pope Benedict's persistent teaching on the importance of understanding Catholic intellectual history is evidence that, even at the level of the Church universal, the integration of faith and philosophy is absolutely critical for our very salvation.

In a recent post about Edith Stein, I stressed the importance of a Christian philosophy; and I cited St Thomas Aquinas as a key example of such a synthesis. But here I want to touch rather on the idea that each individual Christian--insofar as he or she is a Christian--must also necessarily be a Christian philosopher.

If a "philosopher" is one-who-loves-wisdom, then it should come as no surprise that for the Church to endorse philosophy is nothing else than for the Church to endorse a love of Christ, who is the spoken Word of God himself. In his book, The Nature and Mission of Theology, Ratzinger writes that:

As early as the second century, Justin Martyr had characterized Christianity as the true philosophy, for which he adduced two main reasons. First, the philosopher's essential task is to search for God. Second, the attitude of the true philosopher is to live according to the Logos and in its company; that is why Christians are the true philosophers and why Christianity is the true philosophy.

Furthermore, Ratzinger also claims that there is something else distinct about the Christian philosopher. While he uses his intellect to discern the truth of reality through natural reason, he also "carries in his hand the Gospel, from which he learns, not words, but facts. He is the true philosopher, because he has knowledge of the mystery of death." This problem of death, he says, is the "only real existential question facing man" after all; and it is because of the inescapable reality of death (and of its significance and role) that the Christian can ultimately make any sense of Christ'a Passion and Resurrection--the very core of the Christian faith.

Insofar as each of us faces this harsh reality, then--and insofar as we face anything which is simply beyond us--we are true philosophers. Moreover, inasmuch as we resolve the tension of these conflicts by an assent to faith in Christ (who conquers and makes sense of what is innately senseless) we are each Christians. And insofar as the two coincide--which they must quite necessarily--we are indeed Christian philosophers. Quite simply, we make sense of the mysteries we encounter not merely by natural knowledge, nor by supernatural faith, but by an integration of both.

And this is precisely what we are designed to do.

'Respectful' Research: A Gross Misrepresentation

2009-11-05T08:40:00.017-05:00

Well, I suppose I should have seen this one coming.

Recently, the pharmaceutical group, Neocutis--which specializes in the production of burn treatments and skin creams--cited a 2005 Vatican document from the Pontifical Academy for Life in defense of its implementation of aborted fetal tissue research in the manufacturing of biomedical products.

To develop its treatments, the company uses processed skin proteins derived from the tissue of a single, aborted, 14-week-old fetus, attained from the University Hospital of Lausanne in Switzerland. Although none of the original tissue is still used, Neocutis defends its derivative research by stating that "the small skin donation that, ultimately, made the development of our treatment possible originated from a single terminated pregnancy that could not survive to term and was deemed medically necessary by the attending physicians."

Neocutis' directors released a statement, attesting to the morally disputed character of its research; but which also underscored the importance of research that is, in alleged accord with Catholic moral teaching, "respectful of the dignity of human life, and that is conducted in a highly controlled and responsible manner." ("Moral Reflection on Vaccines Prepared from Cells Derived from Aborted Human Fetuses," Pontifical Academy for Life, 2005) Ultimately, according to the Catholic News Agency, Neocutis believes that "'extremely limited use' of fetal skin tissue obtained in a respectful manner can lead to 'significant medical benefit.'" (CNA)

The real question raised by all of this seems to be: what constitutes "respectful" research; and what, ultimately, ought to be the object of such respect?

Certainly, I think, a few things are clear. First, it is clear that the Pontifical Academy for Life never intended to provide any justification for the abortion of human fetuses for any purpose whatsoever--including, even, for important and genuinely well-intentioned biomedical research. To abort a human being is always and everywhere a moral evil; and to do so with "good intentions" makes the evil no less severe. Neocutis' statement fundamentally opposes this basic stance of the Catholic Church, since it attempts to justify the abortion of the initial fetus on the grounds that the baby could not have survived to term, and that the elective termination of the pregnancy offered greater merit than would have been yielded otherwise.

Second, the directors of Neocutis (and I'm sure many other organizations and individuals) are grossly misinformed regarding their understanding of "respect," and the rightful object of respectful action. By its very nature--and certainly in the work of the Pontifical Academy for Life--respect must always and necessarily be concerned with the ultimate good of its object--not in some utilitarian sense, but rather in an absolute sense. In other words, to be "respectful" of the aborted child, whose initial skin tissue enabled the production of further processed skin proteins, is not to consider the effect such a child's vital contribution would have on the future of the biomedical industry; but rather, it is necessarily to consider what is good for that child itself. And this, for human beings, is always the opportunity for life, and the chance to flourish.

Neocutis' stance on biomedical research stemming from aborted fetal tissue is firmly rooted in an attitude of utility that quantifies human life according to the degree to which it can be used to further advance medical science; and it is strongly opposed to the dignity of human life that arises from the very incommunicable and unrepeatable personhood present in each human being.

For this reason, to have cited a Vatican document in defense of the destruction of human life is a vast misrepresentation of Catholic moral teaching, and a mistake that warrants an extreme reconsideration Neocutis' guiding principles, and subsequently a drastic change of action.

Edith Stein: A New Look at Catholic Philosophy

2009-10-30T11:52:00.007-04:00

Each spring semester, the M.A. Philosophy Department at the Franciscan University of Steubenville holds a conference on some particular topic of study in the field of philosophy. Last year, the area of interest was Neoplatonism (in its ancient, mediaeval and modern contexts). And this year, in 2010, the conference will be devoted to the philosophical works of Edith Stein--also known as St Teresa Benedicta of the Cross.

For those who have been reading the blog for a while, you might already know that I have a great passion for studying and discussing Neoplatonism (particularly as it has influenced the history of Catholic philosophy over the centuries). Neoplatonism--most basically--is the tradition of interpreting the philosophical positions of Plato; and its adherents include personalities all the way from Aristotle (who considered himself first of all as a commentator on Plato) to Plotinus, Pseudo-Dionysius, St Augustine, St Bonaventure and--in the estimation of many--St Thomas Aquinas. All in all, Neoplatonism is a vast philosophical tradition that spans the entire history of Christian thought, and then some.

In a very real way, this year's conference on Edith Stein will be an extension of that Neoplatonism conference last year.

Edith Stein was born in Germany in 1881. She was Jewish; although at a relatively early age she lost her faith and devoted herself entirely to philosophy. She was a student of Edmund Husserl--perhaps the most influential single philosopher of the 20th century. As such, she also proved to be a great advocate of Husserl's "phenomenology"--a look at reality from the perspective of man's encounter with the essences of things; and a position that emphasizes, above all, the primacy of the ego in the question of existence.

After spending years studying and teaching, Stein converted to the Catholic faith in 1922; and in 1934 she entered the Carmelite monastery in Cologne, where she took the name, Teresa Benedicta of the Cross. After evading the Nazis for a number of years, she was finally arrested and deported to Auschwitz, where she was executed in 1942.

Stein's preparedness for martyrdom at the hands of the Nazis, nonetheless, was greatly prefigured (and evidenced) by much of her earlier philosophical work. Among her highest academic priorities were 1) providing a synoptic look at faith and philosophy as two co-dependent fields of knowledge and 2) grasping at an understanding of the Christian Trinity as the basis of a metaphysical realism. Given her background, Stein implemented Husserlian phenomenology to a great extent, always beginning her investigations from the perspective of an encounter-with-reality, and moving only subsequently to metaphysical reality itself.

Nevertheless, though, her philosophical rigor was tempered very much by an appreciation of revealed truths as equally-given in the first moments of one's experience of reality. In other words, Stein--very much like Aquinas, in his own sort of Neoplatonism--considers the Trinity as co-given alongside the impressions of "being" that arise from an Aristotelian investigation of the world. For both Stein and Thomas, the Logos (reason, understanding) is not something deduced from real-world experiences; but rather, it is something within the context of which all real-world experiences abide. As such, God-as-Logos (i.e. the Word, or the Second Person) is a co-given reality, without which an authentic understanding of the world (and of metaphysics) is simply not possible.

By reiterating Thomas' centuries-old position in her new, phenomenological terms, Stein does something for Thomistic philosophy that is entirely invaluable. Not only does she help to clarify many points in Aquinas that are often subject to criticism, but she also revitalizes his understanding of the importance (and even the very possibility) of a truly Christian philosophy; and of one that is rooted not simply in supernatural faith, but with utilizes reason to prepare the way for even deeper faith.

The philosophy of Edith Stein is a real treasure for the Catholic Church in the 21st century. Because of her relatively short life, and the volatile and anti-scholastic philosophical milieu of the 20th century, much of Stein's work has remained largely untouched by commentators and scholars. For this reason, the conference at Franciscan University in the spring of 2010 holds a great deal of potential for breaking open what has long been kept locked up in Stein's own manuscripts. The detail and spectrum of her work will ultimately prove helpful--I think--not only for the discipline of philosophy as a whole, but most especially for the area of Christian philosophy, which is in great need of renaissance and revitalization.

'Faithful' Dissent: Where's the Line?

2009-10-26T17:00:00.016-04:00

During my days as an undergraduate student at a (Jesuit) Catholic university, one could pretty well count on the fact that most campus ministers would define themselves, proudly and primarily, as 'faithful dissenters.' "I am Catholic," they would invariably admit, "but the Church is really behind the times on [insert dogmatically defined issue here]." From small-group leaders to musicians to sacristans, almost anyone involved in serving the Catholic community at my college was somehow at odds with some aspect of Church teaching.

And in all cases--on the heels of such discordant convictions--their 'ministry' to the community suffered. Instead of attesting to the truth of the Church's magisterial authority with their very lives, they spent most of the time discussing why such-and-such was holding them back from really living out an authentic Christian vocation.

Five years after those tumultuous (and tiring) days as an undergrad, I still can't seem to escape the phenomenon of 'faithful dissent.' And, what's more, of 'faithful dissent' coupled closely with a desire to minister to the people of God. In particular, an encounter I had just last month reawakened many questions that had, for a while, lain dormant in the back of my mind. Now, again, they persist.

For the last few months, I've been heading up the Gregorian chant schola at my local parish. After singing at a Mass the other weekend, the parish organist/music director approached me to discuss how Mass had gone. "You sounded good," she said, and proceeded to mention her thoughts on chant, music and our schola as a whole. "Gregorian chant is nice," she finally said, with a bit of a chagrinned look on her face, "but I don't want to go back."

"Go back to what?" I asked.

"Back! This diocese has a tendency to go back, not forward," she suddenly retorted. "And I don't know why! It's not doing what all the other dioceses are doing; and I think our diocese needs to realize that the past is not the answer. The Church needs to realize that it won't go anywhere until it reconsiders how it does things--and starts to let women up there!" She pointed toward the sanctuary.

In less than a minute, our friendly discussion of liturgy and music degraded into a diatribe against the male, celibate priesthood, and the very foundations of the Church's teaching authority. Without so much as hinting at a reason, our music director had bypassed all logical segues and proceeded directly into a rant about 'antiquated' rituals and mediaeval hierarchical nonsenses. However, I have to admit that (sadly) I was not all that surprised. And I immediately thought back to those folks at college--those 'ministers'--whose energy was spent more on rationalizing and justifying than on serving and teaching.

In light of this most recent run-in, I'm left with the same perennial questions: namely, is it really possible for someone who dissents from a dogmatic teaching of the Church--and who dissents so vehemently--to be an authentic minister of that Church? Or, to put it a different way, what's the line beyond which one's actions in the name of the Catholic Church cease to be effectively Catholic, and start to be effectively something-else?

For my old college campus ministers, being a 'faithful dissenter' was a badge of pride; and they wore is courageously on their breasts (probably alongside a rainbow ribbon and a "Catholics for Choice" button). For my present colleague, 'faithful dissent' seems rather to arise from some long-held resentment, which betrays a deep and fundamental divergence from the faith of the Catholic Church. In both cases, Christians feel a desire to serve others; but it is a desire weighted down heavily by the burdens of constant complaint, disagreement and capriciousness. In either case, the very bedrock of ministering to others "in the Catholic tradition" (as some are wont to phrase it) is utterly compromised by the desire to hold in tension two conflicting and diametrically opposed viewpoints--i.e. that of the Church, and that of unwavering personal opinion.

Certainly, there is no easy answer to this dilemma. It is an ubiquitous one both in America and throughout the entire world. But it raises deep questions that ought to be dealt with, lest we lose sight of the responsibility of Christian ministers--in whatever capacity--to serve with honesty and integrity. If one can only give to others so much as he or she has received from the first Giver, then how much of a unified, true message can one convey who himself sees truth as negotiable and unity as simply an option?

To minister to others requires that we first be ministered to by the Church herself. If our understanding of that Church promotes any sort of disunity among its members, then we are not aspiring to the true Christian Church. And if we are not ministers of the true Church, we are not ministers to the faithful of that Church after all.

Pro-Life Updates

2009-09-20T09:09:00.002-04:00

Much has happened since our last encounter! And although I can't possible share it all here, suffice it to say that changes in my own employment status (from "non" to "employed") have really taken away a vast chunk of my free time. So, once more, I was forced to stop writing for a while.

As many of you know, another project that's eaten up quite a bit of time—and that is currently picking up steam once again—is the movement I've helped to found: ProLife | ProPatria. In the last few weeks, lots of new things have happened—including the advent of a few new writers/editors, some leads on important connections, and the creation of a new website that will be launched by the beginning of October (same URL: www.prolifepropatria.com).

As always, I'll try my best to make some time for this site; but most of my 'teaching' efforts will have to be put forth both at school, and with the movement. If you've been a follower of this blog for long, ProLife | ProPatria will be a nice addition to your RSS feeds; and the content we discuss—coupled with the new array of fresh writers—will certainly pique your interest!

So stay tuned, and venture over to check it out!

Duruflé's Messe "Cum jubilo"

2009-06-28T20:21:00.006-04:00

One of the most interesting things I've been a part of in recent months (or really ever, for that matter) has finally come to fruition. No, not my M.A. But it's almost as good!

Last Spring, the choir of the Pontifical North American College recorded a full-length CD of a Mass setting by the 20th century French composer, Maurice Duruflé. The record, his Messe "Cum jubilo" is now available through JAV Recordings here. For anyone interested in classical/sacred music, it's a great buy!

Altogether, the CD is an entire Mass (sung the way it ought to be!) comprised of both Gregorian chant (Introit, Alleluia, etc.) and Duruflé's compositions of the Kyrie, Gloria, Sanctus/Benedictus and Agnus Dei. It even includes all the prayers, propers and readings from the Mass of the Immaculate Conception—the College's patronal feast.

What's more, there's a great deal of organ improvisation as well, done by one of the most influential and noted organists in the world today: Stephen Tharp. From the bells on the first track to the organ sortie on the final, this recording is something worth checking out. Even the CD booklet has some cool pictures, and some interesting (and meditative) shots of the NAC that some might enjoy. (The cover photo, above, is the mosaic in the apse of the Immaculate Conception chapel at NAC.) Plus, you'll get to hear me sing—and you'll be supporting a good cause.

So visit JAV and pick up a copy. And play it for your kids. They will like it too! [And if they don't, you can teach them!]

Three "I-Know-Not-Whats"

2009-06-09T09:04:00.010-04:00

In honor of the Feast of the Holy Trinity, a fellow blogger at I Limoni posted a quote from Msgr. Luigi Giussani that reads: "La Trinità vuol dire che la natura dell'Essere è comunità" ('The idea of the Trinity is to say that the very nature of being is "community"').

How often we forget about this element of our Catholic faith: the Holy Trinity. Rarely do we hear prayers addressed to the Trinity as such; rather, we generally approach the Father, or the Son or the Holy Spirit by themselves. In fact, our faith teaches this as well, that certain qualities or characteristics are associated with certain persons. But how often do we stop to think, "What does it mean to say God is three persons in one God?"

Without launching into an extravagant historical analysis of all this, it suffices to say that understanding God to be three persons in one substance goes all the way back to the early Church writers—and particularly the Cappadocian Fathers, like St. Basil the Great. For almost two-thousand years, the Church has interpreted Christ's revelation of the Father and Spirit in terms of person, or 'one in relation to another.' This is evidenced in writers like Tertullian, Athanasius, and in Basil's work especially; and it is a teaching that has endured throughout the centuries.

On the other hand, despite being able to say that there must be some relation/community in God, the idea of how that ought to be formulated has had a much rockier road. There are a myriad of various (and accurate) descriptions of the Trinitarian life, also tracing back to the early fathers, and culminating (more or less) with the Cappadocian formulation. But that doesn't mean it hasn't undergone serious challenge and 'constructive criticism' since then.

One of the best examples is that of St. Anselm of Canterbury (c. 1033AD), who even called God "three substances in one person," rather than the traditional "three persons in one substance." Although Anselm reversed the formulation, he probably did it with a specific goal in mind: to show that the Trinity is a dynamic being; and that each Person (while not a 'substance' in the classic sense) is nevertheless a subsistent relation. But this varied formulation seems to lack a certain clarity (and doctrinal force) that is maintained in the traditional formulation. In fact, Anselm concedes in the end that God is a Trinity "because of the three I know not what" (propter tres nescio quid).

The underlying point, though, is that God is Trinity; and that the Trinity is a personal community. The Father is the Father only because he stands in relation to the Son. And the Son is the Son only because he stands in relation to the Father. These relations are subsistent relations, in that they account for the very identity of the ones in relation (i.e. the divine persons).

Really, struggling with the idea of the Holy Trinity is something eminently Catholic; and something that the greatest minds and saints have been doing now for two millennia. We should continue to do the same thing, and continue to address God under his majestic and solemn title: Sancta Trinitas, unus Deus.

What's the Deal with Liturgy?

2009-06-04T10:18:00.009-04:00

"Everything's better in Latin," say the 'traditionalists.' "Why do anything other than the red and say anything other than the black?"

On the other side of the fence, the über-progressivists contend that Mass ought to be anything but cookie-cutter. "Jesus is present in the people, and people are dynamic and alive, so Mass should be too."

Finally, for the pietists, "Mass is Mass; and as long as Jesus is present, that's all that matters."

[N.B. For those who don't care for sweeping generalizations, this post is not for you.]

So, again we ask: "What's the deal with liturgy, anyway?" Why all this hubbub about the Mass? In a few short lines, we are able to class the vast majority of liturgical sensibilities into three (fairly) tight-knit groups; and despite the (resounding) accusations that such categories are naïvely cliché, the fact is that stereotypes arise from empirical data. After all, there's probably a reason that we don't speak about neo-Arians and hyper-Origenists: no one cares. But something about the liturgy fascinates people; and it fascinates them enough to divide them into distinct and undeniable camps (regardless of what we decide to call them).

Whatever's at the heart of all this debate about the way the Mass 'ought to be' is certainly a powerful concept. It's something that must strike to the core of what it means to be a Catholic, or at least a Catholic in the twenty-first century. No doubt, this central issue is deeply connected to various ideas of how the Church ought to interact and exist in the modern world. The question of liturgy is one that permeates the entire Christian life, since it is a question of man's openness to the divine, and his practice of worshiping God, the Creator of all that is.

Really, it's this last notion, I think, that forms the real edge of liturgical disagreement and dialogue. The idea that the Catholic liturgy is the prima theologia is undeniable, even for those who are far from being theologians in any other respect. There is something unavoidably 'theological' about Mass; and I think this inevitable sense of encounter is what makes liturgy such a touchy topic.

In fact, I would be remiss in failing to admit that a certain facet of this concept of prima theologia is present in all three of the liturgical camps I mentioned initially. For the 'traditionalists,' it is apparent that the Church's authority to discern the appropriateness and fittingness of certain liturgical activities is absolute. The Church is the Body of Christ, and she is reliant upon her divine Head (whose Vicar is the pope) to distinguish what will benefit the entire Body as a whole. For the 'progressivists,' the idea of dynamism is ever present; and a dynamism that really does capture the reality of a Body fully alive. The same Body of Christ is ever growing and developing in its environment. It is the Body of a divine Person, but in human form. And for the 'pietists,' there is the simple fact that "God alone is enough." No matter the form of the Mass, or the political agendas vying for supremacy, the really important thing is that God-made-man is present among us; and we, as a Church, are there to pay him homage.

In some way, perhaps, this distinct, tripartite theologia is actually a Trinitarian theology. In other words, each emphasizes a Person of the Trinity which, unless seen in relation to the others, loses its relational subsistence. God the Father is the ungenerated font of all being, and of all Truth. He is the source of all reality, and the ultimate term by which are understood the Son and the Spirit. Accordingly, the Holy Spirit is the dynamic breath of the Father, sweeping through his creation and imbuing it with life. And finally, the Son, Jesus Christ, is the vision of the Father. He is the way we approach the Father, and the one to whom all praise and honor is due.

Ultimately, the trick with any 'theology' is in coming to get all the parts to fit together. And this is without a doubt the trick with liturgy. But the more we come to appreciate the individual contributions of any given liturgical sensibility, the more we'll come to see the Mass as a real prima theologia; and as the true vision of the Paschal Mystery that it is.

Pro-Life: Beyond the Rhetoric

2009-06-03T14:53:00.003-04:00

With all the recent flurry in the news about the killing of Dr. George Tiller, it’s hard to avoid for very long the question: “Just what does it mean to be ‘Pro-Life’?”

On the one hand, most Catholic moral and ethical authorities have come out stating strongly, that ‘the murder of George Tiller is a gravely wicked thing, and is an absolutely unjustified transgression of the moral law.’ Their stance seeks to maintain a hermeneutic of continuity, so to speak, in the Pro-Life movement, valuing the life of both unborn babies and abortion doctors equally and without distinction. ‘Violence is never the solution’ in such cases, they say, and to kill an abortionist in cold blood is murder just as much as to kill an unborn child is murder. Rather, the ‘solution’ (for them) lies in recourse to civil authorities, and in the hope that the future will bring a reversal of the current abortion laws in America, and a defense of all life, from conception to natural death.

On the other hand, some Pro-Life activists have come out strongly in support of the slaying, noting that the exercise of lethal force is justified in such a case where the civil authorities condone the murder of children; and where Dr. Tiller’s stated intent was to continue performing such genocidal atrocities. For these people, to gun down Tiller in cold blood is not murder, but rather an implementation of a sort of “just war” theory on the civil level. In other words, from such a standpoint, the ‘murderous’ character of the slaying is alleviated by the fact that killing an abortionist is really the protection of innocent human life, which would otherwise be in imminent danger of utter destruction.

I trust that the Catholic moral authorities have stated something true. And I don’t want to launch into a debate, here, on the objective moral status of such a killing as happened in Kansas this week.

More importantly, I think, is the fact that much of the debate surrounding abortion in America today has become one of polemics and rhetoric, rather than a debate situated in the context of immediate and government-sanctioned genocide. Abortion is, as Dr. Robert George notes (regarding President Obama), not presumed to be the extermination of mere biological matter, but rather the killing of real (little) human beings. And thus, the ultimate tragedy is that an open declaration of class-genocide is in effect; and it is genocide that is fundamentally supported by American law.

This isn’t a debate between political ideologies. And it isn’t a disagreement that ought to be hashed out with rhetoric. The abortion debate in America is one that involves real, imminent, widespread murder; and murder condoned on the level of civilly sanctioned genocide.

Certainly, the reality of this debate doesn’t mean that we ought to go out and kill abortionists. But it does mean that we must, at least in our own minds and in our actions and convictions, restate the basic terms of the ‘argument.’ The reality of the plague of abortion means that we must understand the relevant object of our concept (i.e. the actual murder of unborn children), and bring it to the forefront of our consciousness. It will do no one any good to suppose that abortion is merely a word (even if a heinous, unbearable one). “Abortion” is a reality; and it ought to be treated as such.

The media frenzy covering the killing of Dr. George Tiller is, at the very least, bringing some of this reality to our immediate attention. And we should take the opportunity to make the most of it.

Pro-Obama Catholics?

2009-05-29T16:02:00.006-04:00

In a recent debate, hosted by the Catholic University of America, Robert George and Douglas Kmiec faced off on the question: "The Obama Administration and the Sanctity of Human Life: Is there a common ground on life issues? What is the right response by 'Pro-Life' Citizens?"

For those unfamiliar with the two debaters, Robert George is a professor of jurisprudence at Princeton University, and an outspoken and poignant proponent of the Pro-Life cause; and Douglas Kmiec is a professor of constitutional law at Pepperdine University. Both men are Catholic; however both differ severely on how their faith ought to affect their decisions and actions as American citizens.

The cornerstone of the debate—and what probably caused it to occur in the first place—is the fact that Kmiec has openly supported President Obama on a number of occasions (even voting for him in the election) while George has remained staunchly opposed to the president's policies, and continually expresses heavy criticism toward those Catholics who supported him last November, knowing full-well his stance on issues of human life.

All in all, the debate unfolded like most do. Kmiec presented his case, George countered, and then they had a period of Q&A with moderator, Mary Ann Glendon. The main focus of the discussion was, quite naturally, the hard-line stance of President Obama toward anti-life legislation; and the responsibility of Catholics to act conscientiously in the face of such evil. A number of striking points were made on both sides, but the final tally was surely not in favor of Kmiec.

Perhaps the most notable aspect of the whole event was Dr. George's candid presentation of the Obama administration's shortcomings in his 20-minute portion of the debate. George is, without a doubt, a tremendous and clear-headed thinker; and his portrayal of both the pros and cons of almost any situation is bound to be thorough. Once again, he did not disappoint, leveling a barrage of hard-hitting questions against Kmiec's Catholic-Democrat position. He outlined (quite thoroughly) the fact that Obama does not deny the human fetus to be a human being, but that it has rather become a question of 'when must we treat such a being as having fundamental right?' The critical thing, George pointed out, is that Obama's pro-abortionism is not one grounded in ignorance of biological facts; but rather in the alienation of an entire demographic of American citizens.

Overall, I thought the George-Kmiec debate was a real testament to the integrity of the Pro-Life position—and especially one so grounded in philosophical and academic honesty as is presented by Robert George. I would strongly encourage anyone interested in the the roots of the Pro-Life argument to check out this video and see what they think.

The Inner Way to God (Part 2)

2009-05-26T12:59:00.001-04:00

In the last post on Rahner’s inner approach to God by the “pre-apprehension” of being, we discussed the possibility of an encounter with God based on our ‘pressing against’ his infinite being. As we saw, Rahner believes that the best account for God’s real existence is by coming to realize his Infinity—something opposed to our human finitude. We cannot conceptualize God’s fullness. But we can experience it when we find ourselves troubled by our own finitude; and when we realize how finite our lives and actions are in relation to the Infinity beyond us.

In this post, we will get a little more theoretical. (After all, Rahner was a serious philosopher/theologian, and it doesn’t do him justice to take him too lightly.)

There are some valid critiques to Rahner’s position, which we need to look at in order to justly present his theory, and set it in relation to the fuller context of the Catholic faith. And I will try to do that as concisely and clearly as possible.

The first objection might be: “Why does such a ‘pressing against’ the Infinite mean that God must exist? Couldn’t this just be evidence of some other being beyond us and greater than us?”

Most importantly, here, is Rahner’s continual mention of “infinity.” In other words, he is not simply speaking of a being-greater-than-others, but an infinite being. And this is, at least in our Christian faith, part of the definition of God. So pressing against the Infinite (if that is really what is happening) cannot be pressing against anything other than God himself—even if it doesn’t tell us much about his personal character.

A second critique might be: “Doesn’t Rahner’s inner approach to God border dangerously on making man into his own measure (perhaps a la Feuerbach and some other modern atheists)?”

I think this is a legitimate criticism. But I also note that Rahner’s argument can be used in direct rebuttal of a full-on Feuerbachian/atheist response. In other words (for those unfamiliar with Feuerbach and modern atheism), in the Vorgriff auf das Sein, Rahner stresses the fact that this “pre-apprehension” of Infinity is not something we create; but rather something we bring to our experience of the world. Whereas Feuerbach supposed that the idea of God was a mere projection of man’s best qualities into a divine “other,” Rahner wants to maintain a strong sense of man’s finitude, and the absolute reality and existence of the divine “other” over and above man’s relation to him.

For Rahner, man brings this realization of the “I” to all of his encounters with reality. This foundational self-awareness is the “horizon” upon which he experiences the entire world. And this self-awareness continuously presses against an awareness of the Infinity beyond—that is not man. In fact, man-as-man, for Rahner, even relies on this understanding of finitude; the continual longing for an Infinity that is unachievable in human experience. But again, the fundamental response to the criticism itself is that the Vorgriff is something brought to experience, and not the effect thereof nor the projection of any sort of human quality into the realm of eternity.

In the end, I think Rahner’s argument for God from this inner approach is very striking. I think that it offers quite a bit, and augments both cosmological and ontological arguments for God’s existence.

But I think, too, that it must be read with care. And I hope that I have done this—and shown this—in these last two posts.

[Thanks to StMichael for his comments on Part I of this post, which helped in formulating the objections stated here.]

The Inner Way to God (Part 1)

2009-05-23T09:31:00.005-04:00

There are many arguments for the existence of God. Among others are Thomas Aquinas' "Five Ways" for the cosmological existence of God, and St. Anselm's "ontological argument" for God from the perfection of his essence. The first, Thomas', explores an approach to the divine as the necessary cause of all existing things—which could not be their own causes. The second, based on ontology, argues that God's existence must be necessary since God is a perfect being, and therefore must always and unfailing exist in reality.

Here, though, I want to look at a third (and somewhat under-valued) argument for the existence of God: the inner way.

Perhaps one of the most striking cases for the inner way to God, at least in my mind, comes from Karl Rahner's argument for the Vorgriff auf das Sein. While Rahner is a rather complicated read, and to really understand his thought requires quite a bit of work, his idea of Vorgriff auf das Sein—or the "pre-apprehension of being"—is something almost anyone can come to grips with.

Rahner's basic premise lies in the fact that we, as human beings, are limited in our ability to conceptualize (i.e. form abstract notions) about things we encounter in reality. In other words, we can see a pencil, lying on a desk; and we can form a pretty good "concept" of what that pencil is in our minds (viz. yellow, thin, long, includes-eraser, sharp-pointed, etc.). Still, though, something of our concept is left lacking, and there remains an understanding of the pencil-as-a-whole that eludes us. The longer we stare at the pencil, the more we come to learn about it.

Now imagine that deficiency when it comes to our "concept" of God. We can say lots about him—that he is good, true, loving, merciful, etc.—but our abstract sense of him always fails to capture the fullness of his being. And to a far greater degree than with the pencil. Since God is immaterial, any understanding of his "essence" is one that relies on our apprehension of a spiritual reality, which isn't easy!

Rahner's idea is that, in our fundamental and 'regular' human experience, we have a "pre-apprehension" of something that transcends our situation in the world. To put it another way, although I am faced with countless particular situations each day, there is something about the "I" that is identified with me that persists no matter what the situation, and that I come to experience in a non-conceptual way. "I" am more than the decisions I make; "I" am a person who acts in the world.

This fundamental realization (pre-apprehension) of our deepest being is the basis for all further conceptualization. In fact, only because I am "I" can I possibly form a concept of the pencil on the table. It's length and color and weight are all things foreign to "me"; but when I see them and think about them, I can come to understand them.

But more importantly, my fundamental realization of myself—the Vorgriff auf das Sein—tells me quite a bit about the way I stand in relation to what is superior to me. Whenever I act or think, I always have a sense of an infinity beyond me; and an infinite number of things that I will not and cannot be/know. To be a human person is to be limited. I am what I am. But this constant pressing against the infinite, though, is a common experience shared by all human beings. And it is, in Rahner's estimation, the common acknowledgment of something beyond me and something superior to me. It is a primal acknowledgment of the Infinite that is not me. And this is God.

Resurrexit?

2009-05-13T07:55:00.002-04:00

After a long time out of the loop and hitting the books, it seems that a little resurrection may be in order. I miss writing here, and having forayed a bit into uncharted waters outside this little haven of mine, I think there's something to be said for regular readers, familiar topics and concise, to-the-point posts.

This time off has given me the opportunity to reflect on a few things, which I'd like to mention.

1) First, having the chance to focus intently on my philosophical studies has opened a door that I never even realized existed. I'm coming to realize that philosophy, far from being the nit-picky and uneventful discipline most take it to be, is actually much more along the lines of what St. Augustine said of it: the "true religion." In fact, this view has been expressed by many great saints and theologians throughout the ages, including our own Holy Father, Pope Benedict, who writes of it in his book, The Nature and Mission of Theology.

[The theologian] carries in his hand the Gospel, from which he learns, not words, but facts. He is the true philosopher, because he has knowledge of the mystery of death.

Studying philosophy is something more than groping at reality. It is groping at the Reality. And it is one of the most important and engaging responses Christians can give in a modern world that so often seeks to extinguish this Reality.

2) Secondly, in the last months, having some time to myself and my books has also given me a wonderful opportunity to focus more on the vocation that the Lord seems to be showing to me in marriage. I am confident (partly because of my prayer, and party because of my studies) that marriage is a good thing, and am entirely sure that it is beautiful, since I see that beauty each day when I approach it. A vocational decision is something rooted in peace and joyfulness, and I can honestly say that I am filled with both of these as I more closely consider God's design of marriage, and how that plays into my own longing for fulfillment and union with another.

In particular, I think that 'going through' this intense (and radical) spiritual shift has been made easier by the people God has given to me, and by the desire he has placed in me to continue my studies. Together, they have made eminently clear what before was simply obscure and far-off. I am sincerely grateful for that.

So, all that being said, here's to a new incarnation of In Umbris Sancti Petri. I hope you will enjoy it once more; and I look forward to hearing from you all, whom I've lost touch with!

New Things

2009-02-12T18:28:00.005-05:00

To my regular update-checkers, my apologies again for the lack of content on the blog. Per usual, things have been busy. Really busy.

But although my time hasn't been spent here in the last weeks, it has been spent—and doing good things, I might add!

Ecce...www.prolifepropatria.com...the newest addition to Haines-corp-blogging-enterprises-that-sometimes-(although-not-always)-come-to-fruition.

Somehow, though, I think this new one will be a hit. And not only a hit, but a big one—check it out!

In addition to that, I've begun a little gig, writing at Suite101.com, an online magazine that covers everything from cooking and travel to philosophy and Catholicism. (Guess which section I'm writing in...?) Here's a link to my profile; from there you can check out a few of my articles and see what I've been up to elsewhere.

For now, that's about all I've got. Please continue to check back, though, and encourage others to visit the ProLife | ProPatria site in particular. We are really passionate about the mission it seeks to accomplish, and we need all the help we can get!

Thanks!

ProLife|ProPatria

2009-02-01T15:42:00.011-05:00

Most of the time, this blog is pretty philosophical/theological. I try to keep away from political talk, etc.—there are enough other blogs out there with that kinda' stuff. But sometimes, something worthwhile comes to light, which I'm not opposed to sharing in this forum. This time, the thing that has come to light is something I'm pretty intimately involved with.

In the wake of our recent presidential election, and in the midst of the melancholy that plagues many Catholic communities nowadays, some friends of mine and I decided to initiate something productive. We started an organization (or 'movement,' if you like) that seeks to foster prudent and authentic Catholic involvement in the political life of the nation. We call it: ProLife|ProPatria.

Our mission is simple: to encourage Catholics nationwide to work toward a better social and political situation by uniting in prayer and a single vision. To do this, we think the simplest steps will be the most productive, and so we've started with a very basic but powerful one: prayer cards. The card, about the size of a postcard, has a glossy image of the Trinity on the front [above], and a prayer for President Obama on the reverse side [right].

Contrary to most pro-life prayers, though, the one we've come up with is not just about the value of life. It is about the value of life specifically within the context of the Catholic tradition, and an understanding of Catholic theology and thought. Being a pro-lifer is about more than just saving lives—it is about fostering the fullness of life, which is the life of Christ that fills and sustains his Mystical Body.

The prayer we composed is this:

O Most Holy Trinity,

Ineffable Source and Author of our being, who enlightens the world and reveals to us the nature of personal love, the model upon which society is established,

Illuminate the mind and heart of our president, Barack Obama, that he might recognize the dignity inherent in each human life, from the point of conception to natural death.

Lead him, Almighty Father, to exercise his office according to the precepts of your justice, which delivers your children from wrongful exile.

Christ Jesus, Eternal Truth, allow him to know that the glory of God is man fully alive, and that the glory of man is the vision of God.

Holy Spirit, Spouse of the Immaculate, instill in our leader pure intentions, and inspire him to choose always the value of life.

Hear our prayer, O God of Mercy, defend our nation and its leaders and guide us always toward the vision of your eternal glory.

Amen

Anyone interested in purchasing prayer cards, or knowing of a group or organization that might be interested, is welcome to contact us at prolife.propatria@gmail.com for more information; or you can download and fill out an order form. Since we are all students (and finances are scarce) we cannot give the cards away at no cost, but we have come up with a price scheme that is near wholesale.

The total cost for the prayer cards is as follows (plus S&H):

500 cards — $99.99 ($.20 per card) + S&H = $121.49
1000 cards — $149.99 ($.15 per card) + S&H = $169.99
2000 cards — $225.00 ($.11 per card) + S&H = $255.99
5000 cards — $449.99 ($.09 per card) + S&H = $485.99

We are looking forward to distributing at many cards as possible. Ultimately, we want to be faithful to the teachings of the Church, and by being faithful to be successful, for the sake of our Church and our world. Your help is very appreciated!

2009-01-29T08:59:00.003-05:00

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...

Is Goodness Without God Good Enough?

2009-01-20T17:04:00.004-05:00

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.

Good (Christian) Gift-Giving

2009-01-04T15:18:00.003-05:00

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.

Inclinations vs. Intentional Prayer

2008-12-30T16:05:00.010-05:00

Well, the holidays have taken a real toll on my blogging efforts. But I suppose that isn't such a bad thing. I've been escaping the books for a few weeks—and most intellectual-ish activities along with them!

But now I'm back. And after all this time away from thinking (at least thinking critically), I have a few thoughts that are probably long overdue.

First and foremost, I've been thinking quite a bit about prayer. My understanding of prayer is something that has, over the course of my life, taken drastic turns...for better and worse. 'Knowing' how to pray is just as hard as trying to figure out what it means to say, "I prayed." I'm sure that I won't get any solid 'answers' anytime soon—it's rather a mysterious thing—but there are some fundamental truths about prayer that are not dispensable, and these can guide us to seeing just how we can grow in a life of prayer, no matter our vocation in life.

In my mind, prayer seems to fluctuate between appreciating God's presence in a mystical, sacramental sort of way, and appreciating his presence in human interaction. On the one hand, there are times where the only place God seems present is in the tabernacle, in the Eucharist, and there is nothing I want more than to be alone with him, seemingly isolated from the outside world, and to pray. On the other hand, sometimes that is the last thing on my mind; sometimes I want nothing more than to be with other human beings, and to experience the affection and love their presence draws out from the depths of my personhood. Both inclinations are directed at some form of prayer, whether it be meditative or active. Neither inclination is, however, in itself a prayer.

What seems to be necessary for real 'prayer' to occur is that, recognizing these attractions of the heart, I actually do something about it. "To pray" is, most basically, a verb. It requires action.

Whether it be an affection for Christ in the Eucharist, or the indwelling Trinity in others (or even oneself), truly praying means that we are realizing that desire to be from God, and pursuing it as God would have us pursue it: by glorifying him, and seeking to give him our fullest and deepest attention. This sort of 'intentionality' that happens with prayer is the same sort of thing that happens when we see something new, or when we find something interesting that we want to know more about. The focus of our attention—the focus of our 'self'—becomes directed at another. We engage another being with our undivided intentionality. Whether that 'other being' is a book, a pencil, another human person, a divine person, or the Trinity united, the importance of our intentionality is unchanging. We examine it, inspect it, note the impressions it presents us with, take it in, process it, meditate upon its true meaning, and engage it for what it is. We bring to this encounter just as much as does the other. And we bring to prayer just as much as does God. Prayer is the unity of two autonomous persons in a conversation of the heart. If we are not fully present, how are we ever going to pray?

With all this in mind, we can see how prayer can occur either meditatively or actively. It becomes clearer that "to pray" does not simply mean to drown out distractions, but rather to intentionally move toward the object of our affection. It means to discover the revealed God by endeavoring to approach him genuinely, and out of the affection of our hearts. We do this at church, before the Eucharist; we do it in our lives, in being and living with others. The presence of God is everywhere, and our affection towards this presence can be prayerfully transformed anywhere and everywhere. How else could St. Paul have commanded Christians to "pray without ceasing?"

Of course, realizing this and actually doing it are two different things. Understanding the theory of prayer is just the same as understanding that "I am affectionate toward this or that thing, but refuse to do something about it." Reading (or writing) about prayer is not praying. At least not in itself. However, it can be prayerfully transformed if the focus of the understanding is actively directed at coming to know God more fully, and discovering his Truth more plainly. It's not always easy to tell the difference between 'knowing' something and 'doing' something. I suppose the tell-tale sign, though, is that action will always issue a change, while knowing is the foundation for that action. "Do I see myself changing because of my prayer life, or am I simply learning more about what praying might mean?" In more philosophical terms: "Am I simply inclined to goodness, or am I intentionally disposed to it, seeking it actively, and desiring it with my entire person?"

'Understanding' Beautiful Art?

2008-12-19T15:47:00.000-05:00

I was at the National Gallery of Art last weekend, strolling amongst the paintings before getting off to another engagement that evening. It was relaxing, to say the least. There is something about art that is calming—at least (I think) good art. Even the most provocative of scenes, if portrayed well by their depicters, seem to induce an effect of tranquility of mind. For example, Monet's delicate flowers offer a similar consolation as El Greco's rendition of La Agonía en el Jardín.

Any discussion of art is bound (although I think unfortunately) to fall into some sort of cliché. So much has been written and said about art and its relation to man's journey through life that it's difficult to say something new—at least something categorically new. One can only, to use a related metaphor, paint with wide brush strokes for so long before everything that can be said has already been put forward. For that matter, analyzing art on the grand scale is itself an art not easily practiced.

But real progress can happen more easily, I think, when we look at art on the micro-scale; i.e. as individual paintings, schools, etc. (Even speaking of 'modern art' versus 'classical art' versus 'oriental art' is a bit too broad for drawing clear distinctions.) In the end, it's the artist himself who paints the picture, not the milieu in which he lives. It is the artist himself that conveys meaning, even if it is a meaning engendered by the culture he is raised in. To find consolation in art means to find consolation in the expressions of the singular artist, not in art as a whole.

I was thinking of all this as I was at the gallery last weekend, and in reflection it seems to make sense. I had to laugh as I watched the freelance art aficionados perusing the rooms, examining closely the paintings, and then retiring to the benches to chat with one another (in fancy parlance) about such and such an artist and such and such a contribution. I wondered where the authentic solace was in this sort of endeavor—whether or not they found it in the art they looked at or in the words they were able freely to associate with it. I guess I've always been a skeptic about people who like to talk so much about fine things that they themselves eclipse beauty with wordiness and esotericism. What of just seeing and acknowledging? Isn't this a more authentic understanding of what it means that something is 'beautiful' or 'lovely'?

Perhaps I'm guilty of just the sort of thing I'm trying to explain. Maybe it would be better just to look at a nice picture and realize how beautiful it is, in se—in virtue of its created nature and the reflection it affords of the Artist.

New Document: Dignitas Personae

2008-12-13T13:18:00.004-05:00

In a recently released document, Dignitas personae, Rome's Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith has summed up much of the Church's official stance on contemporary matters of bioethics and end-of-life issues. I think it goes without saying that such a document has been a long time coming, and will receive a great deal of attention (both positive and negative) from media outlets and academic institutions alike.

The Vatican-crafted synopsis of the document reads as follows:

In recent years, biomedical research has made great strides, opening new possibilities for the treatment of disease, but also giving rise to serious questions which had not been directly treated in the Instruction Donum vitae (22 February 1987). A new Instruction, which is dated 8 September 2008, the Feast of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, seeks to provide some responses to these new bioethical questions, as these have been the focus of expectations and concerns in large sectors of society. In this way, the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith seeks both to contribute "to the formation of conscience" (n. 10) and to encourage biomedical research respectful of the dignity of every human being and of procreation.

To be specific, some of the main thrusts of Dignitas personae are the anthropological and theological foundations of human procreation, the presentation of new questions and concerns in these areas (i.e. in-vitro fertilization, stem cell research, frozen embryos, gene therapy, human cloning, etc.), and an official synopsis of the Church's stance on all these individual matters. Quite concisely, it's a nice little handbook of what flies and what won't according to Catholic moral teaching and the deposit of faith.

Certainly, I think most Catholics are quite aware of the Church's doctrinal stance on most of these issues. But, I also think it goes without saying that those same Catholics would be hard-pressed to explain much more than a simple, axiomatic statement of the doctrine itself. For example, I can imagine many practicing Catholics saying something like: 'Catholics believe abortion is wrong, because...well...it's unjust, and it's against the Church's teaching,' or 'The Church does not support embryonic stem-cell research because, uhm...it's unethical.' Perhaps that's a little overstated. But ultimately, I think, it is true that most Catholics don't understand much of the reasoning behind what the Church has been saying for years. And there's something to this—it's complicated stuff! If not well informed by their pastors, who are the faithful to turn toward for a coherent explanation of Catholic doctrine? Certainly the media does not portray this accurately, and unfortunately neither do a great majority of theologians or ethicists at Catholic colleges.

On this note, one of the most helpful aspects of the recent release—which deals not just with this document, but with all documents of such a caliber—is a Q&A section published alongside the actual instruction. The members of the Congregation wished to inform Catholics of the actual force of such a publication, in doctrinal term:

[Dignitas personae] is an “instruction” from the Catholic Church’s highest doctrinal agency, the Vatican’s Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF), applying timeless moral principles to some new issues and situations arising from biotechnology. It does not declare a new infallibly defined dogma, but is approved by Pope Benedict XVI and has his authority. Like most Church teachings, its moral judgments are part of the “universal ordinary magisterium.” Catholics are called to inform their consciences with such teaching, adhering to it with “religious assent” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, no. 892).

In my mind, the Holy Office has addressed two popular topics with one fell swoop: bioethical dilemmas as well as the importance of the depositum fidei in the life of the Church. Tanti auguri, Cardinal Levada!

From the Mouths of Babes

2008-12-10T07:37:00.005-05:00

I can't lie; usually when people are noisy at Mass it really annoys me. I guess it's just one of those things I expect shouldn't happen: people talking to one another, rustling around, reading something non-liturgical, etc. In short, it's distracting.

But, like any rule (even rules I make up myself for my own comfort), there's an exception, and yesterday that exception came in the form of a little boy who babbled and chattered from start to finish of the Eucharistic prayer. At first I was typically drawn into his noise—'I was just getting prayerfully focused! Now this kid is going to start talking behind me... geesh...' Naturally, I couldn't help but listen to him, since by this time I was clearly uninterested in my former meditative ideas. The funny thing is, the more I listened to his words, the more my affection was drawn prayerfully back to the altar.

The little boy said lots of things, but I remember two particularly:

First, his comment at the preparation of the chalice. The priest had already said the prayers of offering for the bread, and was preparing the chalice by mingling the water with the wine. Suddenly I heard: "Mommy! That's water like I can drink!"

And indeed it is. Somehow this little kid, who was clearly uninterested with the Mass up until then, became immediately fascinated with the Incarnate Word; he realized that something in the depths of his personhood was compatible with what was going on at the altar. 'Mommy! The priest isn't doing magic. He's using water, and I drink water!'

By the time I got finished dwelling on his beautiful and childlike insight, it seemed we had sped to the words of consecration. My heart was already more affectionate toward the sacrifice than it had been before. But again, I heard spiritual commentary usher forth from the pew behind me: "That's Jesus' body—the priest is holding Jesus' body," whispered the lady. "Where? Where!" shouted the boy. "I want to see it!" Indeed, his realization that something normal was becoming something super-natural baffled him. 'I just saw water, but now it's not water? Never mind! I want to see what happened to the water and the bread!'

I suppose we can meditate all we want on the sublime mysteries of the faith. They are certainly worthy of meditation. But what happened to that little boy was something much more pure than any meditation—it was an actual realization that what stood before him was something that should never be. He heard the testimony of a miracle, immediately believed, and sought to discover its root. Really, he exemplified the entire Christian life in about ten seconds. Is it any wonder that Christ extols the childlike?

Blast From the (Medieval) Past

2008-12-08T07:20:00.001-05:00

According to some, Thomas Aquinas is making a comeback. And I would tend to agree.

Now, call me biased—sure I might have written a few (dozen) essays on the guy. But I'm definitely not the only one enthralled with St. Thomas Aquinas nowadays. In fact, in the words of Archbishop Jean Louis Bruguès, secretary of the Congregation for Catholic Education, the 13th century Thomas' "theory of virtue will stimulate a renewal of moral theology." And that's no vain claim; I believe it.

As a student of philosophy (and dabbler in theology) Aquinas is one of the big hitters, hands down. While the Church has no official philosophical position, perhaps the closest we'll ever come is that of Thomas. His prolific writing is unsurpassed in the philosophical/theological world even today, and the scope of his focus amazes even the most reborn Renaissance men. Moreover, his endeavors into the world of theology (and particularly moral theology) have proven remarkable. The Thomistic 'natural law' theory was revolutionary at its inception, and still holds water 800 years later. But perhaps what's most interesting about the Angelic Doctor's reputation: he can take a lickin' and keep on tickin'.

"Moral theology based on St. Thomas Aquinas is among one of theology's most popular branches today, says [Archbishop Bruguès], but this popularity has come about only after decades of disdain." (Zenit) Indeed, after a long run in seminaries and theological faculties the world over, Thomas suffered a fall from popular grace, culminating in the hectic 1960s. Certainly, Aquinas' dogmatic stances on reality in relation to the faith were not welcomed in the ever secularizing academic environment of the neo-Enlightenment. But the reinvigoration of moral theology in the later part of the 20th century provided a window of return for the neglected Doctor. "[B]y the beginning of the 80s, many issues referring to ecology and the development of medical techniques began to be at the center of attention of bioethics." This ethically-charged atmosphere proved a capital opportunity for Thomas' reintroduction into academia. "Moral theology was becoming the most appreciated subject, the only branch of theology that was really taken into account in a secularized society."

Now, its tempting to think that Thomas Aquinas is more popular than ever. Sure, he's just as unpopular as ever with those who disagree with him, but for those looking toward the classical foundations of ethics (especially for the sake of bioethics and like fields), there is nothing quite like the clear thought of this medieval monk (who, incidentally, is famous for having had six scribes writing simultaneously on six different treatises!) Of course we've all heard of Thomas, but how many of us have actually read him? This might be a good chance to jump on the orthodoxy bandwagon, run to your nearest Amazon.com and pick up a copy of the Summa Theologiae. (Or, if you prefer, you can just read it online. Latin anyone?)

Benedict on Blogging?

2008-12-03T07:25:00.005-05:00

Now here's an interesting story. The pope, during his audience with administrators and students from the University of Parma, Italy, spoke a great deal about the 'dangers' of being too wrapped up in the technological advances of an age.

Students today are in danger of losing this balance, the Holy Father explained, due to the increased use of information technologies. “On the one hand, they run the risk of a growing reduction in their capacity for concentration and mental application on an individual level; on the other, that of isolating themselves individually in an increasingly virtual reality. (CNA)

The crux of Benedict's point seems to be that an overabundance of technology diminishes the need and appreciation of a genuinely social environment, disabling students from forming "constructive relations with other." On the other hand, says the pope, human interaction allows for “the opportunity to mature intellectually, morally and civilly, through the great questions that challenge the conscience of the contemporary man."

How could I disagree with all that? It's pretty foundational stuff (not to mention the very topic of my undergraduate thesis!) But how often is it simply overlooked?

While eating out the other day, I was seated next to a table full of young girls—perhaps 13ish—accompanied by two older ladies, perhaps a mother and grandmother. It looked like a birthday party. Of course, I couldn't tell that from the conversation or interaction between the girls, but I simply guessed it based on the number of kids and their similar ages. The mother and the grandmother sat stoically on one end of the table, with eyes glazed over staring off into oblivion. The girls, on the other hand, all giggled to themselves. Each of them had in her hand some sort of cellphone/PDA/smartphone device, and was occupying herself playing games and sending text messages. I can only assume that the text messages weren't being sent to one another...

If this is any indication of what the Holy Father is getting at—and I think it is—then this shouldn't be something simply for speculation. The very future of our society hinges upon how well we teach children and young people to interact with technology. (Even blogging as much as I do is probably indicative of some overuse of the internet, I admit.) The real trick is figuring out how to enable kids to be proficient with technological advances while at the same time not allowing them to be consumed by them. Unfortunately, the pope doesn't give a quick answer for this. But I think if he had to point in one direction, it would be toward the parents.

Maritain: Art & Creativity

2008-11-29T11:45:00.003-05:00

Over the break—and yes, I'm still getting 'breaks' at 23, hard to believe I know—but, over the break I've been trying to read a book by the famous Thomist, Jacques Maritain, called Creative Intuition in Art and Poetry. Assuming that most here haven't read it (including myself, except for the first chapters), I can't provide much of a detailed discussion or overview. But something he speaks of in the first chapter prompted me to ask a few questions, which I will present here.

The first chapter is a review of various forms of art—Oriental, Chinese, Greek and Western—comparing and contrasting them for their commitment to and portrayal of both "Things" and the "Self." Maritain's primary argument here seems to be that Eastern art, be it Muslim geometry, Buddhist mythology or Chinese iconography, all intends to portray the 'thing-in-itself' and speaks little of the 'self,' who creates the artwork. He contrasts this with ancient Hellenic art, wherein the human form becomes the object of beauty, but remains just that—a Thing—and not an actual extension of the artist-self. Finally, he attempts to show Christian art as the beginning of a form of self-expression that does more than simply focus on beauty in things; rather, it begins to show the beauty of the creator and the ideas which are put into a work of art from the subject end.

Here, I agree very much with Maritain. His representation and analysis of art from East to West seems quite correct, especially with regard to the religious incorporation involved in each form.

Maritain's final section of the chapter is devoted to modern and future art. Here, he makes a few claims which I'm not so sure I understand—at least not in the way he intends. "We are in the presence of an exceptionally great epoch," he says, "[which] comes from the fact that on the one hand never was painting so purely painting, and on the other hand never in painting was such poignant humanity united with such powerful penetration of visible things, through the simultaneous manifestation of the painter's creative Self and of the occult meanings grasped by him in reality." (28) Although he presents his case in eloquent fashion, I think his fundamental ideas are nonetheless up for debate—primarily the notion that modern art represents "pure" art, and that in this 'purity' arises the ultimate expression of self-manifesting creativity. Certainly, modern and contemporary art is unique, and it does speak from and toward a different level of self-involvement. There is something beautiful about abstraction and impression that is not found in realistic or iconic portrayals of reality; an involvement of Self, as Maritain would put it. But as for modern art indicating a true level of progress in the world of art, I think, is something altogether different.

I'll have to read more of the book before coming to a conclusion on this. But nevertheless Maritain does a brilliant thing in Creative Intuition in Art and Poetry, which delves into the problems of art and beauty with a penetrating and fruitful focus.

Love: Dwelling of Truth & Beauty

2008-11-24T07:20:00.005-05:00

For Msgr. Luigi Giussani, founder of the Catholic movement, Communione e Liberazione, two things in our lives are most indicative of our proximity to the divine: 'truth' and 'beauty.' These two ideas—well known in Catholic thought even from the time of the early theologians, and especially in the work of St. Thomas Aquinas—really do manifest most plainly God's presence in things of this world, and the redemptive work carried out by Christ in sanctifying the good things we encounter each day. Truth and beauty, for Giussani, are realities which 'correspond to the heart,' and things which each human heart, at its deepest level, yearns for and is satisfied by.

A common exercise among CL faithful is to examine one's life in terms of 'Where do I find truth and beauty?' It is there, we assume, that Christ is speaking to us. Certainly, this is the recommendation of the movement at large, and has proven instrumental for many individuals in coming to know more fully the depth of the divine plan which characterizes and gives meaning to their entire lives. 'When something clicks for me, I can see Christ in that truth. After reading the same passage of scripture over and over again, its beauty finally became apparent one day—it was so beautiful!—and I was able to see Christ there.' These are common experiences for any Catholic who keeps an eye open for them, and are the particular recommendations for those wishing to pursue the Lord in CL.

Without a doubt—and especially as a philosophy student—I see something admirable in searching for the Lord by searching for truth and beauty. They are, after all, two transcendental properties of all being in which, if we find one, we can often find the other. I think that's hitting the jackpot! But, it's not the only jackpot to be hit. A thing we should never forget is something given to us by St. John the Evangelist, re-presented elsewhere, and finally distilled beautifully by Pope Benedict XVI in his encyclical, Deus Caritas est. This message is simply that one phrase: "God is Love."

Indeed, although sometimes our intellectualized minds (and particularly for those of us who are students) continue to find solace in ideas of truth and beauty, there is something to be said of love, which is in the end even more perfect. "In the end, faith, hope, and love remain," says St. Paul, "and the greatest of these is love." There is something about love that is more universal—more perfect—than even truth or sublime beauty. Although we continually seek the truth, we seek it out of love. Even though we are fixated upon beauty, we must realize that there is no beauty worth having that is not had in love. Love is the guardian of all other goods, and so long as it is not present than neither are we able to be present to them.

I think that a common frustration in living the 'CL-life' is that sometimes we can get too caught up in desiring these true and beautiful realities. 'I want to see Christ so badly in this or that thing, but I just can't—but I know he's there!' Perhaps what we ought to focus on instead is the presence of God in the simple yet profound ability to endure in seeking him. Patience, endurance and persistence are the labors of love. If we desire to see the Lord with our hearts, we are indeed enduring in the fight, and this is nothing short of love. Although we cannot often see it, we must never disregard it. Love—persistence in wanting to see the face of Christ in all we do—is even greater than seeing him.

'Cosmic Patriots' for Christ

2008-11-15T12:12:00.006-05:00

There is something funny about trying to be pertinent to today's world. On the one hand, you have the news: chock full of sad stories, cynicism, despair and harsh, cold 'reality.' On the other hand, you have fluff (or at least what the world and most people consider fluff): optimism, talk about how good life really is under all the harshness, etc. Neither is really appealing—at least to me. Sometimes I like to hear about the news, but a little goes a long way. Sometimes I need a pick-me-up, and a nice story with a good ending makes me feel better. But again, less is more as far as that goes.

What do people really want? False pessimism is bad; false optimism is perhaps even worse. Is it really possible to fall somewhere in between? Even more importantly, what are we called to see, as Christians, in a world that is at times unbearable and at times all too enticing?

G.K. Chesterton, in his wonderful book, Orthodoxy, writes of this proper Christian approach to life: he likens it to patriotism.

My acceptance of the universe is not optimism, it is more like patriotism. It is a matter of primary loyalty. The world is not a lodging-house at Brighton, which we are to leave because it is miserable. It is the fortress of our family, with the flag flying on the turret, and the more miserable it is the less we should leave it. The point is not that this world is too sad to love or too glad not to love; the point is that when you do love a thing, its gladness is a reason for loving it, and its sadness a reason for loving it more. All optimistic thoughts about England and all pessimistic thoughts about her are alike reasons for the English patriot. Similarly, optimism and pessimism are alike arguments for the cosmic patriot.

That final term—"cosmic patriotism"—is certainly a Chesterton special. In his typical way, he captures all the facets of a very multifaceted reality in a single, poignant phrase. We all know what a patriot is (or at least what one used to be, when the word meant something a little stronger). I assume that "cosmic" is an equally familiar term, although again one with a little baggage in contemporary society. When put together, though, Chesterton's "cosmic patriotism" makes perfect sense; it resonates in the heart of modern man. We must be devoted citizens and lovers of the universe we live in. The more miserable it is, as he says, the less we should want to leave it.

Chesterton had a keen eye for what made certain things resplendent with Christian beauty. Certainly, the cosmos is one of those things: ordered by the Logos and permeated by the logoi spermatikoi, it is the handiwork of God and the manifestation of his glory. Saint Irenaeus added to St. Justin Martyr's thought with the wise insight that Gloria Dei vivens homo ("The glory of God is a living man"). What is often forgotten of Irenaeus' statement, however, is the second part of the sentence: gloria autem hominis visio Dei ("The glory of man is the vision of God"). It is this vision of God in his creative majesty that Chesterton speaks to. It is to the divinely made universe, of which we are all beloved citizens, to which we are in turn called to be patriots. No matter how bad it sometimes seems, and no matter how enticing it can sometimes be, it is nothing other than God's love made known to us. "It is the fortress of our family, with the flag flying on the turret, and the more miserable it is the less we should leave it."

Preference for Poverty is Universal

2008-11-10T07:00:00.001-05:00

Some may remember a post I wrote a while back concerning the Church's notion of a 'preferential option for the poor.' I think that now would be a good time to revisit this idea, and consider it especially in terms of our current economic and social situation (particularly as they occur around election time).

One thing that will never change is the Catholic Church's hierarchy of values—even if individual Catholics might sometimes get it wrong. At the top will forever be the needs of the people of God for the sake of salvation and sanctification. Below that are the needs of the Church, which are not directly concerned or facilitative of those first level priorities. And finally, there are the personal desires and expressions of faith and value, which are integral to the life of each individual Catholic. These last things are good, but not necessary for salvation; perhaps some examples would include art, music, literature, etc.

But that's a pretty rough sketch of things. None of us experiences life as some kind of clearly delineated progress from phase to phase. No one thinks in such stratified categories. The interplay between the three levels I tried to identify above is very fluctuant. But I think most theologians would agree that something like this model needs to be upheld if the Church will be able to function properly and for the sake of its goal, salvation.

With this in mind, where does a 'preferential option for the poor' fit into the schema. I think it is clear: it is a top-level priority, which facilitates sanctification both for the poor and for those who serve them. It is, in other words, something indispensable in the life of the Church, and something well above a personal devotion or private expression of faith and value. The manifold writings in Catholic tradition regarding social justice are evidence of this fact. We cannot, as Catholics, seek to somehow circumvent such a primary and fundamental act of the Church in order to further lower level expressions of our faith. It is precisely our faith that makes a preferential option for the poor what it is.

Perhaps the largest question arises when one considers: 'What things are we to consider as "poverty"?' This is, after all, really the question at the heart of any preference for the poor. Certainly, material poverty makes human beings 'poor'. Just as plainly, emotional and social poverty are a growing cause of 'poor' people in our society today. Finally—and closely connected with social poverty—the depravation of fundamental rights to life is perhaps the most notable form of poverty, especially in most affluent Western countries. All of these are forms of poverty. They deprive the human person of the most basic needs, which must be met in order to survive, and to live in a way that fosters a love of Christ and an appreciation of the faith of his Church.

To believe that we, as Catholics, might somehow opt to alleviate one form of poverty at the cost of the others is simply folly. There is no way to bargain between one form of poverty and another: both are poverty, and both represent our highest priority as Christians. For this reason, the Church has always promoted the enactment of laws that protect fundamental human rights to life, while at the same time seeking social justice and economic fairness throughout the world. Different forms of poverty require different approaches, but none of them exclude another.

Finally, perhaps the most important thing to remember when speaking of a 'preferential option for the poor' is that poverty is not something we will eradicate. The poor will always be with you, Jesus tells us. Rather, we would do well to consider poverty as a mystery—as an insight into the life of the Trinity. By seeking to aid those who are poor, we will in turn make ourselves spiritually poor. And it is this holy self-emptiness that most reflects the self-gift of Father to Son and Son to Father by the procession of the Holy Spirit.

'Progress' Achieved?

2008-11-08T08:39:00.000-05:00

I think it's funny how many times I've heard the words, "historic moment," in reference to Obama's election as the first black president of the United Stated. A number of US bishops have used the expression to congratulate the president-elect (probably due to the unavailability of other, more genuine compliments). An even greater number of news anchors have uttered the phrase, normally coupled with "progress" and "achievement." This appears to be its fundamental status: an indication of pride that our nation has finally 'achieved' such a level of 'progress' and 'historical momentariness.'

But why is electing a black president an indication of progress? Is it any more an 'achievement'? At the very least, I'll give it 'historic moment' status, but that's it. I'm not content with the notion that simply electing a non-Caucasian national leader is in any way indicative of progress—any more than electing a leader with fiery red hair would be. Who was the last president with fiery red hair? Have we had one yet? Ought we not to aim for such levels of progress as this?

I'm being a little cynical. I do realize that the rights of African-Americans have been jeopardized throughout the course of US history. I am certainly for giving them every equality which they deserve as human beings and as citizens of this country. But I will forever refuse to subscribe to an ideology that says voting for someone who's 'different' is equal to achieving some degree of 'progress' in our political system. Progress ought to be measured not on the basis of appearances, but of actualities. When Obama shows his colors as chief executive of the federal government, I'll be much more willing to hand out titles like 'achiever of progress' and 'bringer-abouter of change.'

But that leads to another question: 'Is all change progress?' In the eyes of 347 electoral votes worth of Americans, the change promised by the Obama camp is nothing but pure, unabashed progress. I think this jump is a little extreme. I think it requires a little more thought.

The 'Soul' of Democracy: Christianity

2008-11-06T07:01:00.003-05:00

There are, of course, lots of noteworthy things to think about in the wake of the election. Perhaps most germane to this blog are the two letters sent to Barack Obama, one by Francis Cardinal George of Chicago, and one by the Holy Father, Pope Benedict XVI. Both prelates extended words of congratulations to the US president-elect, and stated their continuing prayers for his cooperation in the work of justice, peace and—most pointedly—upholding fundamental human rights.

Dear President-elect Obama [wrote Cardinal George],

I write to you, in my capacity as President of the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, to express our congratulations on your historic election as President of the United States. The people of our country have entrusted you with a great responsibility. As Catholic Bishops, we offer our prayers that God give you strength and wisdom to meet the coming challenges.

Our country is confronting many uncertainties. We pray that you will use the powers of your office to meet them with a special concern to defend the most vulnerable among us and heal the divisions in our country and our world. We stand ready to work with you in defense and support of the life and dignity of every human person.

May God bless you and Vice President-elect Biden as you prepare to assume your duties in service to our country and its citizens. (ZENIT)

Benedict's letter, unlike the cardinal's, was not published due to its "personal nature." However, I think it's fair to say that it expressed much of the same.

So what does this say about the Church and politics? What does it tell us about our own involvement in the political sphere beyond election day? I think the most reasonable conclusion is that the Church, as it has always taught, does not see political involvement solely in terms of elections and vying for political offices, in the sense that secular society portrays it. In Centesimus Annus, Pope John Paul II writes that the Church "values the democratic system…[which] is possible only in a State ruled by law, and on the basis of a correct conception of the human person." This seems to imply that what seems manifestly 'democratic'—i.e. the electoral and representative process we see in the US—is only possible due to the laws of the state it governs, and the adherence to these laws in cases concerning human dignity. Moreover, the pope goes on to say (in a 2000 letter to Cardinal Vlk) that the Church "has a specific contribution to make; not only can Christians join all persons of good will in the realization of this great project [of political activity], but they are also invited to be in some way its soul by showing the true meaning of the organization of the earthly city."

What John Paul II tells us is clear: political life isn't a once-in-four-years phenomenon. It is a sustaining presence and, in the words of the pope, the very "soul" of a democratic government. It is up to Catholics, with the support of their bishops, cardinals and pope, to maintain the efforts toward life so ardently offered in the time leading up to this year's presidential election. Now is when the moves for the next pro-life changes are initiated. Now is when we take up the task of becoming the "soul" of democracy by our witness to the fundamental dignity of life.

Voting Practice...

2008-11-04T12:52:00.002-05:00

It's election day which, incidentally, happens to coincide with the feast of St. Charles Borromeo. Which is more important? You decide!

'Exceptional Growth' in Africa

2008-10-31T09:14:00.007-04:00

When in doubt, just turn to the poor of the world for confirmation in the mission of being Catholic. It happens time and time again, and this time it's with Africa. According to ZENIT, next October's synod will focus on the Church in Africa, discussing it's "exceptional growth" in recent years, and will consider the future of the local church in the coming years. "The idea for this synod arose during the last years of Pope John Paul II's pontificate... The Polish Pontiff had already welcomed the idea in 2004. In 2005, Benedict XVI announced his plan to convoke the assembly, which will be a continuation of the first Africa synod, held in 1994." (Full article here.)

So what kind of things are so "exception," you may be wondering. Well, here are a few statistics about Catholicism in Africa: since 1994, there has been an overall growth in number of bishops by 18%, and in number of diocesan priests by 58%. Also, realizing that a hundred years ago Africa had only 2 million Catholics, it is startling to consider that today, a mere century later, the continent is home to over 150 million (17% of it's total population).

[Archbishop Eterovic] affirmed that the Catholic communities [in Africa] are active and committed: "Religious practice has a high rate, especially regarding participation in Mass on Sundays and holy days. In some countries, the rate of religious practice is around 80%."

This explains, he said, "the high number of vocations to the priesthood and the consecrated life. […] In sum, Africa is not a mission land in the passive sense, but rather it sends missionaries, both for the continent itself and for the whole world."

This much is clear for almost anyone who lives in a US diocese nowadays, since in recent years African priests and nuns have come to the rescue in places with shrinking presbyterates and religious presence. In Rome—as I recall—a substantial portion of almost all my classes was made up of African seminarians, priests and religious, sent to study in Europe for mission or domestic work after receiving their degrees.

But in light of all the progress, Africa still maintains an atmosphere of overwhelming uncertainty and political unrest. The purpose of the upcoming synod, in part, is to discuss the Church's presence on the continent with particular regard for the heightened inter-tribal tensions in recent years, as well as the growing number of African Muslims who are currently making up a significant portion of the land's population. "'Reconciliation is a priority need in Africa, in which progress is not lacking, but neither are problems,' the [Eterovic] affirmed. 'Without the true peace in Christ, there cannot be any cultural or social development. The Church should be a prophetic voice that invites to reconciliation, justice and peace.'"

November 4th in Sight

2008-10-27T18:54:00.003-04:00

For the past few months I should have retitled the blog, In Umbris Diei Comitialis. (We'll see who gets that one...) But finally, it seems that I'm resurfacing from the murky depths of politics into the refreshing shadows of St. Peter's.

So, I thought this would be a good chance to address my brothers in Rome, who are truly living in those shadows, and whose experience of the universal Church is indeed as enviable as it is humbling. Living in Rome—and perhaps even in the Vatican—isn't really an experience that you can describe, especially from the standpoint of experiencing the faith. Anyone who's been to the Eternal City can tell you, there's just something about it, and about the Church in her midst, that makes you feel really good about being Catholic. Walking through the pope's backyard, around the tombs of his predecessors, and even eating at Benedict's favorite German dive (Tirolese) are just a few of the Catholic-Disneyland experiences I rank among my favorites. Those are the things that people enjoy hearing about; the things that make them want to make a trip to Rome.

But the thoughts that provide me with the sincerest memories are the things I got to see outside the public sphere of tourism and ecclesial pomp. Visiting the children at Bambino Gesu Hospital; talking to Florentina, Mario, Nicholai, Olympia, Brasilia and the other poverelli on the way to and from the Gregorian in the mornings; soaking up Italian culture on Saturday strolls down the Via Giulia; drinking two or three cappuccini in a single day; watching the sun rise over the Alban Hills on cool mornings before Lauds; watching the sun set on sweltering evenings beyond the Villa Doria Pamphili; hearing the bells of St. Peter's chime eleven o'clock, just down the street.

I love Rome. And I enjoyed living in umbris Sancti Petri. But now, it's my goal to make the shadows of that beautiful basilica—the beauty of the teaching that flows from it—accessible to others. And so, as the election season dies down, I look forward to focusing more and more on the ideas that prompted me to start this blog in the first place: the influence of Catholic thought and culture on us in the rest of the world. I hope that you have enjoyed reading, and that you'll keep tuned in for more!

Politics & Paradox

2008-10-24T16:25:00.006-04:00

This pretty much sums it up. The consummation of months (years?) of campaigning, debates, hackery and speeches. After all of this MacIntyre-article-stuff for the last few weeks (most of which, I admit, was due to curiosity, but is turning more into conviction), I've come to the realization that Americans—for the most part—are horribly disinterested in politics. Political activity, for the common citizen of our country, would most likely be identified as campaigning, knocking on doors, sporting the latest "Country First" apparel, or spending entire days and tanks of gas trying to find opposition yard-signs to put one of yours right next to (effectively, I suppose, canceling one another out). It's enough to make one a little nauseous, and to make most people just simply not care anymore.

And I would ask, 'Is this really what we want for our country?' To the political leaders, slandering and backbiting one another, 'Is apathy the virtue upon which are built the great civilizations?' I'm no politician, but it seems that even power mongers should realize that pure contradiction is not the recipe for progress or growth.

Now, before this all sounds too romantic, I do realize that politics has never been a very beautiful thing. The idea of political freedom, sure; the right of a pursuit of happiness, sure. But politics, no. So I don't realistically expect that what we are going through would be any different. But we have to admit that not only is this election season in the US particularly degenerate, but that the past few election years have noted a trend of continual decadence in the American political landscape. More corruption, more slander, more drivel and more 'ick.'

What are the things that Americans, in these relatively dark times of economic and political uncertainty, can fall back on? How can we force ourselves to take the time enough to care about the election process and all the garbage that goes along with it? After all, it is important. We just can't see it, sometimes.

Maybe, in the midst of our wallowing at home, trying to save money and avoid streetcorner riots in the name of one presidential candidate or the other, we could all pop in a copy of Robert Bolt's, "A Man For All Seasons." The portrayal of St. Thomas More in the film is one of the best portrayals of a realistic-seeming saint that I can recall. His political involvement with King Henry VIII, the love he shows for his family, and his ultimate death at the hands of a nation that grew to hate him most viciously for his defense of Truth...it all seems rather fitting. And if only we could all live up to his famous maxim: "I die His Majesty's good servant, but God's first." Sir Thomas more is the model of a faithful citizen. He's also a saint. If that says anything, then maybe we are lucky after all to be living in such a time of political paradox.

Secondo l'Affetività del Cuore...

2008-10-18T21:20:00.019-04:00

Recently, I've been getting more involved in the Communione e Liberazione group on campus. Part of the regular routine of the 'School of Community' factor has been reading the works of Msgr. Luigi Giussani, the movement's founder and theologian. Without a doubt, Giussani's writings always leave you with a nugget of truth to consider throughout the next week, until you come back for a little more.

This past week, the discussion came from a chapter, entitled "Obedience." The focus of this section—as much as we have talked about so far—has been the events surrounding Christ's multiplication of the loaves, and the subsequent call to eat his flesh and drink his blood. The two events, says Giussani, are not coincidental; they are, rather, providentially arranged so that after being nourished physically by the miracle of the loaves, the crowd finds itself hungering for more of the same. They seek out Jesus continually, until finally he is in a position to tell them something they need to hear. Something big.

"You follow me because I satisfied your hunger with bread, freely, but I offer you something else to eat; I give you my flesh to eat and my blood as drink. And he who eats of this bread and drinks of this blood will live forever." (Si Può Vivere Così, 136) The response to this invitation, a resounding disapproval. A few remain. "To whom else can we go? You have the words of eternal life," asks Peter. This part is well known.

But what occurs in the hearts of those disciples? What caused Peter to utter his words? It is this that Giussani focuses upon. "I don't understand this," he supposes Peter was thinking, "but if I go away from him, no one else can speak to me according to the desires of my heart." (138)

This idea of 'speaking to the heart' is absolutely pertinent to a discussion of obedience in the Christian sense. As Catholics, especially, we are called to an obedience to the truth as it is understood and taught by the Magisterium of the Church. This obedience, however, does not arise from some efficient causation—we are not compelled to obedience, for that would not be obedience but slavery. Neither is obedience appealing because it enables us to avoid punishment, since that is equally as unfree. Rather, obedience is appealing to the Christian precisely because it is a language aimed at the desires of the heart; it is the fitting response to the Lord's call to us that we should follow him and find eternal life and happiness in communion with his Son.

This causes me to wonder a few things. Namely, since human beings are quite obviously wired for happiness and goodness, why is it that we are so quick to act contrary to the desires of our heart? After all, it wasn't the case with Peter that the Lord introduced new desires to his being, but rather that he tapped into those already present. Assumably, the same would have been true for the crowd that left. Didn't Christ tap into their deepest desires as well? After all, he is God—he can do that! But why, then, did they so quickly leave him? No doubt they were scandalized, but why?

The answer, I think, arises from the same innately human locale as the desires of the heart. As human persons, we so often desire to construct our own conceptions of reality that we fail to see the ones planted within our very being as having any value. Often, we are so quick to put forth our own ideas of how things should fit together that we fail to see the coherence of the picture before our eyes. Even more, we fail to see that not only does the picture cohere with itself, but that it actually corresponds to reality as well!

This is exactly what Christ offers those to whom he gives his Body and Blood for food and drink. He speaks to the heart, completes the picture, and bestows a knowledge of reality so deep that it seems utterly scandalous. But, as Giussani presents to us, it is precisely because it seems so scandalous in the beginning that it is so truly fitting and magnificent in the end.

"The Only Vote Worth Casting..."

2008-10-13T09:18:00.003-04:00

It's been a quiet week here at the blog. I've been occupied with studying for a midterm, researching for three term papers and preparing two presentations for the coming week. All in all, it's been a load of work. I'll soon be finished with my pressing assignments, though, and back to blogging on a more regular basis. For now, here's a curious (and brief) article about Catholic political activity by a philosopher from the University of Notre Dame (which has generated quite a buzz of attention.) Don't let the cliché subject matter dissuade you from giving it a read. It's very interesting. And I'd be curious to hear some comments:

The Only Vote Worth Casting in November
Alasdair MacIntyre

When offered a choice between two politically intolerable alternatives, it is important to choose neither. And when that choice is presented in rival arguments and debates that exclude from public consideration any other set of possibilities, it becomes a duty to withdraw from those arguments and debates, so as to resist the imposition of this false choice by those who have arrogated to themselves the power of framing the alternatives. These are propositions which in the abstract may seem to invite easy agreement. But, when they find application to the coming presidential election, they are likely to be rejected out of hand. For it has become an ingrained piece of received wisdom that voting is one mark of a good citizen, not voting a sign of irresponsibility. But the only vote worth casting in November is a vote that no one will be able to cast, a vote against a system that presents one with a choice between Bush's conservatism and Kerry's liberalism, those two partners in ideological debate, both of whom need the other as a target.

Why should we reject both? Not primarily because they give us wrong answers, but because they answer the wrong questions. What then are the right political questions? One of them is: What do we owe our children? And the answer is that we owe them the best chance that we can give them of protection and fostering from the moment of conception onwards. And we can only achieve that if we give them the best chance that we can both of a flourishing family life, in which the work of their parents is fairly and adequately rewarded, and of an education which will enable them to flourish. These two sentences, if fully spelled out, amount to a politics. It is a politics that requires us to be pro-life, not only in doing whatever is most effective in reducing the number of abortions, but also in providing healthcare for expectant mothers, in facilitating adoptions, in providing aid for single-parent families and for grandparents who have taken parental responsibility for their grandchildren. And it is a politics that requires us to make as a minimal economic demand the provision of meaningful work that provides a fair and adequate wage for every working parent, a wage sufficient to keep a family well above the poverty line.

The basic economic injustice of our society is that the costs of economic growth are generally borne by those least able to afford them and that the majority of the benefits of economic growth go to those who need them least. Compare the rise in wages of ordinary working people over the last thirty years to the rise in the incomes and wealth of the top twenty percent. Compare the value of minimum wage now to its value then and next compare the value of the remuneration of CEOs to its value then. What is needed to secure family life is a sufficient minimum income for every family and that can perhaps best be secured by some version of the negative income tax, proposed long ago by Milton Friedman, a tax that could be used to secure a large and just redistribution of income and so of property.

We note at this point that we have already broken with both parties and both candidates. Try to promote the pro-life case that we have described within the Democratic Party and you will at best go unheard and at worst be shouted down. Try to advance the case for economic justice as we have described it within the Republican Party and you will be laughed out of court. Above all, insist, as we are doing, that these two cases are inseparable, that each requires the other as its complement, and you will be met with blank incomprehension. For the recognition of this is precluded by the ideological assumptions in terms of which the political alternatives are framed. Yet at the same time neither party is wholeheartedly committed to the cause of which it is the ostensible defender. Republicans happily endorse pro-choice candidates, when it is to their advantage to do so. Democrats draw back from the demands of economic justice with alacrity, when it is to their advantage to do so. And in both cases rhetorical exaggeration disguises what is lacking in political commitment.

In this situation a vote cast is not only a vote for a particular candidate, it is also a vote case for a system that presents us only with unacceptable alternatives. The way to vote against the system is not to vote.

iTunes & 19th Century Nihilism

2008-10-08T09:51:00.008-04:00

I'm pretty sure that iTunes might be one of the singular most indicative examples of the American will-to-own that I can think of. We all (that is, we all iTunes users) understand why. The days of hearing songs on the radio and simply enjoying them are long gone. Now, we have to know the title and artist's name before we even think about sitting back to soak in the music. If I like it, I want to own it. And if I don't like it, then just hurry on to the next song so I can find something to buy!

I suppose I'm not really addicted to iTunes. In fact, I believe that I have one of the smaller music collections of most people (my age) that I know. What I am writing about here is really more the perception of a forming mentality than an actual case study of addictive behavior. But, left unchecked, I have seen what it can become (viz. having so much music that you'll never have time enough to listen to it all, downloading illegally to appease your fixation with acquiring mp3's, etc.)

That being said (and my reputation being temporarily defended), the tendencies that such a mentality of obsessive acquisition engenders are just as bad as being actually addicted to downloading music. In fact, I would think, the mentality of 'will-to-own' might be even worse, since it is more open-ended and prone to various and, perhaps worse, manifest expressions. If we allow our character to be defined by what we can get our hands on, concupiscence won't allow us to stop at downloading music. Simply looking at the wanton acts of selfishness that occur daily throughout the world. People want more, and they are willing to go to great lengths to secure it.

Perhaps most destructive, though, about this consumeristic mindset is the proclivity to begin viewing invaluable items as purchasable. In other words, having the ability to buy whatever you want—even before you know what it is—makes one feel as though they are entitled to anything, and that anything has a price. This, of course, sounds cliché. But think about it: what does putting a "price" on something invaluable indicate? It is more than simply making attainable by human means something that lies outside the bounds of singular acquisition. It is, in actuality, presuming that we are speaking of a commodity manufacturable by human efforts, and contained within the scope of human production. We can buy pencils, cars, houses, even land (which is cultivated and prepared by human efforts). What we cannot buy are people, truth, beauty and goodness. There is, I would argue, a distinct separation between the two sets, and one that, even in America today, we haven't found a way to bridge.

The alarming thing about the 'will-to-own,' though, is that it realizes no bounds. It is, in many ways, a concrete and Westernized expression of the Nietzschean Wille zur Macht. Just go into Barnes & Nobles to find out how popular this nihilistic thinker is: nearly half the "Philosophy" shelf is dedicated to him. Then ask yourself if there is some connection between Übermensch and Überkäufer. I think there is and—in the spirit of Nietzsche—I think we are on the cusp of its simultaneous realization and demise.

"Termination"

2008-10-06T18:39:00.004-04:00

It's not really the most audibly pleasing word in the English language, but it sure can have a nice ring to it, compared to the words it's often used as a substitute for: "We are going to have to terminate your employment, mister so and so," "Susie was terminated last week," etc. Heck, one of the first mental images "terminate" instills in me is of Arnold Schwarzenegger wielding a shotgun.

A lesser-realized yet equally-as-chilling usage of "terminate" comes to us today from the folks at the Down's Syndrome Association, where recent medical progress has heightened spirits. Really, the news starts as Stanford University (also known for their recent gridiron demise at the hands of the Fighting Irish), where Dr. Stephen Quake and a team of colleagues has been pioneering a form of Down's Syndrome testing for use in early-stage pregnancies.

Dr. Quake said: "Non-invasive testing will be much safer than current approaches."

One of the current ways of confirming the syndrome is amniocentesis, in which a needle is used to take a sample of the fluid within the womb.

Approximately one in 100 women who have the test will miscarry as a result, according to the Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists...

Dr. Quake said the new DNA test could be carried out at an even earlier stage of pregnancy than the current tests, giving women more time to make choices about their pregnancy. (BBC)

"What sort of choices," arises the question in the mind of the reader.

Carol Boys, chief executive of the Down's Syndrome Association, said: "There is no question that these non-invasive tests will be introduced in the next few years.

"It's therefore incredibly important that potential parents are given accurate information on Down's syndrome before they make a choice about whether to terminate or not.

"We don't consider Down's syndrome a reason for termination, but we recognise that bringing up a child with Down's syndrome isn't right for everyone.

And so surfaces the topic of our post: "termination." Oddly enough, it does not come from the scientist experimenting with the testing, who incidentally believes his work to be beneficial for those seeking 'choices,' but rather from the woman defending the fetuses afflicted with this 'syndrome.' She doesn't want to call them people, I'm quite sure. Nor does she want to state the harsh reality that her careful choice of words highlights so blatantly. "Potential parents" is a dead giveaway: how can she believe the fetuses are human beings if the procreative agents aren't yet parents? But, then again, why head up an association that seeks to defend Down's Syndrome children if they aren't really 'people' until birth? Why not just "terminate" them all and get it over with? Perhaps she has a cozy job. Perhaps the "termination" of too many fetuses would infringe upon that. Perhaps she may even have to take a solid stance on the issue. But for now, she doesn't.

What is happening is murder, no matter how you choose to say it. And if the advocates of the poor and sick themselves will not stand strong in the face of public and social backlash, then who can?

Moral Uncertainty ≠ Political Might

2008-10-02T13:41:00.004-04:00

For my daily dose of news I usually read the BBC, as opposed to any American news network, since it tends to be a bit more objective in cases of American electoral debates and foreign policy than does anything domestic. Usually, I think that holds true. But like anything, the BBC too has its shortcomings, and quite often they seem to surface by way of a distinctively non-theist bias toward many different sorts of stories and coverage. Simply reading the comments on some of their web-based articles—which reflect mostly the mentality of their British reader base—is enough to evidence this claim. Nevertheless, I think the decidedly non-theist bent is something increasingly popular in news reporting worldwide, and a phenomenon that we cannot overlook as a matter of sheer coincidence.

In a recent comparison of U.S. vice-presidential candidates, the British Broadcasting Corporation published a series of verbal blunders from each candidate in an attempt to predict a possible outcome of Thursday evening's debate. While most were somewhat alarming, some were simply funny; but one seemed out of sorts, and caused me to think a little deeper into the objectivity of the reporting. (Or at least, I should say, into the effort of the reporter to think critically and not simply superficially about the material being published.) The clip I am writing of is this:

Speaking to graduating students at her former Wasilla Assembly of God Church in June, Mrs Palin suggested a natural gas pipeline project had divine backing. "I can do my part in doing things like working really, really hard to get a natural gas pipeline, about a $30bn project that's going to create a lot of jobs for Alaskans and we'll have a lot of energy flowing through here. And pray about that also. I think God's will has to be done in unifying people and companies to get that gas pipeline built, so pray for that." (BBC)

The "problem" here, I gather, is an assertion that Sarah Palin seeks to invoke divine support for economic and commercial projects, and will similarly do so as Vice President of the United States. I, on the other hand, gathered something altogether different from the quote cited. It seems eminently important to consider, as part of the quotation, the context in which it was uttered. If she were speaking to the Senate, that would be one thing. But she wasn't. She was speaking to a group of graduates from a Christian college, and not just any college but rather her own alma mater. Is it really problematic, then, that she urged them to consider praying for a resolution to an issue of personal importance to her? Perhaps it may not have been the most prudent time to make such a statement, but the question is still: "Was it wrong?"

Unfortunately, as I've already noted a number of times, the continual tendency of U.S. citizens expecting lawmakers to be devoid of personal convictions—religious especially, but otherwise as well—is unnerving. Although this instance from a BBC article is hardly something to throw a fit over, it does provide a glimpse into a problem much larger than isolated columns in far corners of the internet. It represents, I would suggest, a growing mentality, and one that shows no signs of coming to terms with the obvious and rational considerations that anyone well-versed in democratic theory could outline: namely, that lawmakers are elected to represent the wishes of the populace, and that they are elected precisely because they are known to believe certain things. If we seek to neuter our government officials of all conscientious potency, then we have only to continue along the path which we've so ardently been pursuing. I think it's naive. And if properly informed of just what is occurring, I think the majority of Americans would believe so too.

Problems Are Bigger Than Slogans Allow

2008-10-01T18:54:00.011-04:00

As I was walking through the parking lot at school this morning—all the way to the end, past all the other cars—I noticed once again the abundance of "pro-life" bumper stickers plastered all over anything from a 2009 Honda to a 1973 Buick. Anything that has a bumper (or had one at some point) is worthy of a sticker around here. Although the theme of most, as I mentioned, has something to do with a pro-life message, the actual catch phrases are all quite different. The difference led me to writing this post...

Sometimes I wonder how much pro-life Catholics know about the cause for which they fight. I wonder what they believe the opposition believes—do the "pro-lifers" understand "pro-choicers" to be ignorant of facts like: "Abortion Stops a Beating Heart," or "Some Choices Are Wrong"? While these slogans are insightful to some degree, they don't really address the issue at hand. People who kill pre-born infants realize that they are killing something living. Who would deny that? For this reason, bumper stickers promoting ideas like "Your Mother was Pro-Life" and "A Child is Not a Choice" seem a bit more germane. In other words, they hit closer to the aim of the pro-life movement, which is to demonstrate the wrongs of abortion based not on biological facts or undeniable claims of ethical certainty, but upon the reality that an unborn fetus is, in fact, a human being. Of all the stickers I've seen, "Abortion is Murder" seems to sum this up best.

Without detracting from the enthusiasm of those who enjoy publishing such views in the form of automotive advertisement, I think we are called—as pro-life Catholics—to something higher than slogan slinging. We are called to something more magnificent than uttering pithy responses to questions which we (often wrongly) assume pro-choice factions are asking themselves. They don't want to know that children are not choices, or that abortion kills living cells. They don't even want to know if we think abortion is murder (implying that a person is involved). They want to know why we believe that the unborn are human beings just as much as you and I are human beings. The perplexingly naive positions of public figures, like Nancy Pelosi, on topics of human life and conception lend further evidence to the urgent need for education and not simply partisan enthusiasm. This question of "why" is much harder to answer than the question of "if" we believe abortion is murder. Of course we do, but can we explain it? And if so, can we explain it intelligibly?

Above all else, prayer will be the key to stopping abortion in America. Alongside prayer, it is an education as to why the Church believes and teaches what She does that will inform hearts and minds to pursue the overturning of Roe v. Wade, and the reconstruction of the legal parameters regarding the multifarious "life issues" we hear about so often. Let us not forget that the Church's mission to spread the Good News of Christ to all nations is likewise a call to inform the world of the Eternal Logos, whose Truth governs reality, and who we can come to know by our experience and knowledge in this world.

Is there a catchy way to put that on a bumper sticker?

Liturgical Renewal Abounds in Vatican

2008-09-28T22:22:00.006-04:00

Also noteworthy—and a little more germane to the title of this blog—the Holy Father has continued his tradition of trend-swaying appointments, once again in the liturgical sector:

Pope Benedict XVI made a low profile but significant move in the direction of liturgical reform by completely renewing the roster of his liturgical advisors yesterday.

A hardly noticed brief note from the Vatican's Press office announced the appointment of new consultants for the office of Liturgical Celebrations of the Supreme Pontiff. It did not mention, however, the importance of the new appointees.

The new consultants include Monsignor Nicola Bux, professor at the Theological Faculty of Puglia (Southern Italy,) and author of several books on liturgy, especially on the Eucharist. Bux recently finish a new book "Pope Benedict’s Reform," printed by the Italian publishing house Piemme, scheduled to hit the shelves in December.

The list of news consultants includes Fr. Mauro Gagliardi, an expert in Dogmatic theology and professor at the Legionaries of Christ's Pontifical Athenaeum “Regina Apostolorum”; Opus Dei Spanish priest Juan José Silvestre Valor, professor at the Pontifical University of Santa Croce in Rome; Fr. Uwe Michael Lang, C.O., an official of the Congregation for the Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments and author of the book "Turning Towards the Lord" -about the importance of facing "ad orientem" during Mass; and Fr. Paul C.F. Gunter, a Benedictine professor at the Pontifical Athenaeum Sant Anselmo in Rome and member of the editorial board of the forthcoming "Usus Antiquior," a quarterly journal dedicated to the Liturgy under the auspices of the Society of St. Catherine of Siena. The Society, which has an association with the English Province of the Order of Preachers (Dominicans), promotes the intellectual and liturgical renewal of the Church.

Also relevant to the appointments is the fact that all former consultants, appointed when Archbishop Piero Marini led the office of Liturgical Celebrations, have been dismissed by not renewing their appointments. (CNA)

Not a shock. But definitely interesting news nevertheless...

Συνοπσις: A New Blog

2008-09-28T18:05:00.003-04:00

Having a blog is a good thing, especially when you need to put in a plug for another blog. And that is what I am doing right now.

Behold, The Synopsis Project.

Although this new project is quite different than In Umbris Sancti Petri, I have a feeling that many of you who are regular readers here will enjoy what (I hope) will be going on at The Synopsis Project. While this blog is mostly dedicated to things related to theology, philosophy and the Church on a wider scale, the other will be focused primarily on philosophical issues, and will have a decidedly more 'pinpointed' approach. For anyone who's wanted to venture deeper into philosophic topics, I would warmly welcome you to become a regular visitor and commenter at The Synopsis Project.

We are still getting it off the ground—we're at about T+2 seconds, I'd say—but soon it will be fully operational, and we're looking forward to lots of good discussion!

Now for Sustainability...

2008-09-25T08:15:00.003-04:00

Obviously, we figured out how to provoke comments. And all sorts of comments at that. I'm pleased that such a silly little exercise got people thinking (and typing).

Although the aim of the last post was two-fold (i.e. critiquing the current mindset of bloggers while attempting to promote useful commentary at the same time), the real purpose—as I noted—was to research how to become a 'better blogger.' Getting comments is one thing (a very important thing, no doubt), but stimulating comments that are germane to a topic, and which are sustained in quantity and quality is a different matter altogether. Now that I have your attention for a few moments, what sorts of ideas would you submit on this point?

A Blogging Challenge

2008-09-23T17:43:00.016-04:00

Here's a thought-provoking (and hopefully comment-provoking) exercise, which incidentally (and perhaps oxymoronically) voices my opinion on a few things. I think it provides a good challenge to those who find it necessary to so quickly open their mouths in comboxes internet-wide...

I've been trying to look toward a few other blogs for ideas on how to blog better. For the most part, I've been getting lots of ideas—but in very few cases have they been formulated in positive terms. For some reason, blogging seems to have an inherently degenerative principle of existence (an apparent anomaly in logical thought) which reduces all possibility for constructive dialogue to mere exchanges of heated opinion. It sounds like something from The Matrix, but all you have to do is seek out any number of mainstream 'discussion' blogs to find evidence.

Blogging, in many senses, is like a classroom: one person 'teaches,' and the rest voice their approval or disapproval for that teaching based on reasoned judgments (i.e. "comments"). This can happen in various ways, but two seem prominent in my mind. There are instances of both classical and—for lack of a better term—modern constructions of blogging, each being diametrically opposed to the other. In the (anachronistically) classical approach to blogging, the blogger writes what he or she believes to be the case, anticipating questions and rebuttals, but nevertheless endeavoring to submit new substance for the discussion at hand. In other words, a topic of particular consideration is viewed in its own right, and is subsequently grappled with by inquiring disciples (themselves often master-bloggers in some other and remote niche of cyberspace).

On the other hand, the (felicitously named) modern approach to blogging is closely associated with the modern theory of classroom study, which is dominated by a subjectivist approach to teaching, weakened further by a subjectivist theory of learning. To put it more clearly, a topic is brought into consideration which is admittedly subjective on the part of the teacher, who in turn expects (although often only implicitly, and by virtue of his own example) that his listeners will attempt to discredit his claims based on similarly subjective evidence. The result of this latter method seems to be a degeneration of dialogue, furthered by each side's attempt to undercut the other's evident and otherwise-impenetrable position of subject-focused truth. In plainest terms, the modern construction of the classroom is not a classroom at all, but an endless series of contradictions aimed at establishing personal truths founded on nothing but subjective bias.

Here, I am free to become a bit teacher-ish. I am free to assume that the beauty of my own critique of blogs and bloggers lies in the critique itself, and in the necessarily self-evidencing character of any comment designed to undermine it. If anyone seeks to prove my theory wrong, his or her comment will prove it right: either the comment will be supportive of my theory that reasoned judgments and positions alone have priority in the dialectic setting of the (blog) classroom, or it will itself manifest the degenerative nature of subjectivist positions in the face of logically constructed ones.

That being said, does anyone have a comment?

Benedictus Scientiarum

2008-09-18T10:11:00.016-04:00

Whenever I think of the Roman university of La Sapienzia, and their bold claims against the Holy Father and the Vatican, I can't help but laugh a little. Especially in light of this:

The president of the Pontifical Council for Culture has said that evolutionary theory is “not incompatible” with the teachings of the Catholic Church, insisting that the theory of biological change over time was never condemned by the Church.

Archbishop Gianfranco Ravasi made such remarks while presenting the new interdisciplinary conference to mark the 150th anniversary of Charles Darwin’s Origin of the Species. The conference, which is a Vatican initiative to promote dialogue between scientists and theologians, is scheduled to take place in Rome in March 2009. (CNA)

Now, its already quite clear that the Church has nothing against scientific progress; and I've already written quite enough on that topic for the time being. What really strikes me about this little news clip is the next paragraph (specifically the last line):

[Ravasi] said the theologians, philosophers and scientists are attending the conference not necessarily for the purpose of coming to an agreement, but rather hoping to confirm “the possibility of dialogue and a common desire to interpret reality, albeit from different points of view.”

This statement—as seemingly insignificant as it might be at first glance—provides us a window into some very big issues. First, it shows us precisely the point of all philosophic inquiry. It outlines the basis of philosophical reasoning and methodology: namely, that philosophy is concerned not with some universal method of understanding the truth, but with the truth itself—a truth which alone is universal. In other words, varied approaches to truth are (philosophically) equally acceptable, so long as ultimate and real truth is the goal.

Second, it calls to mind the task of theology, which is quite converse to that of philosophy. In theology, the 'object' or 'aim' of study is God himself. Therefore, the truth being considered is a divine one. Moreover, since theology concerns itself with the knowledge of God directly, something understood only by way of revelation (and particularly in the person of Jesus Christ), it is therefore inherently concerned with the truth of revelation in se. Perhaps more clearly, proper theology places an importance upon the understanding of revelation just as much as it does upon the understanding of God himself. The theological 'study of God' is equally the 'study of God revealed.'

Third, Ravasi's remarks call to our attention the place of science. The word, "science," comes from a Latin word for "knowledge," "scientia." This form of knowing is concerned not only with the ultimate truth, as is philosophy, or the means of knowing, as is theology, but rather both the means and the truth. Science is the understanding of reality based on empirical and experiential observations. One cannot believe that gravity exists and cite the color blue in proof of that claim; nor can one observe an apple fall from a tree and subsequently claim that the theory of gravity has been debunked. For science, the end and the means are equally integral constituents. They must cohere with one another.

The ultimate conclusion is that each of the three—philosophy, theology and science—are inquests toward the truth. In terms of method, philosophy is highest. In terms of object, theology is highest. In terms of utility, science is highest. The real goal is to understand which truth is accessible by which method.

A Final (and Hopeful) Note...

2008-09-16T19:14:00.005-04:00

I apologize for the extended dive into the murky waters of 'freedom' theories. Although it is an eminently important question, it is nevertheless not the only one. I submit, however, one final glimpse into the nature of freedom and its integral place in the human experience:

A requiem Mass was celebrated on Monday for Thomas S. Vander Woude, a former athletic director at Christendom College who died saving his Down Syndrome son who had fallen into a septic tank.

Last week the 66-year-old’s youngest son Joseph, 20, had fallen into a septic tank at Vander Woude’s home in Prince William County. According to the Washington Post, his father jumped into the sewage-filled tank to help his son keep his head above the fouled water while Vander Woude’s wife Mary Ellen and a workman called emergency rescue workers and tried to help.

When he and his son were rescued from the tank, Vander Woude was unconscious. He was later pronounced dead at a hospital.

His son Joseph was hospitalized but is expected to make a full recovery. (cf. CNA)

Oddly enough, freedom seems to surface in the most inhospitable of circumstances; when we can't get a grip on it in the clear, all we need do is turn to the frailty of human nature and, without a doubt, we encounter it.

"Where is the wise one? Where is the scribe? Where is the debater of this age? Has not God made the wisdom of the world foolish? For since in the wisdom of God the world did not come to know God through wisdom, it was the will of God through the foolishness of the proclamation to save those who have faith." (1 Col. 1:20)

The Case for Free Will

2008-09-13T14:44:00.006-04:00

I never realized how intensely debated the topic of 'free will' is in some philosophical circles. I have an entire class this semester, entitled Person & Freedom, in which we have done nothing but seek to understand the notion of freedom of the will, and its implications in the larger scope of philosophy. Amongst the contenders for status of the human modus operandi are, of course, the free will theory, compatibilist theory, and straight-up determinism. All three—despite the initial shock that the latter could be plausible—indeed have a leg to stand on. Defending one and rejecting the others is no easy task. Defending free will theory, as I've found out, is perhaps the hardest of all...

I've spent a bit of time preparing my assigned presentation for this week's class on determinism, in which I must select the most probable defenses of determinism from the annals of history and present them, as convincingly as possible, to the class. Although I volunteered for the assignment, I'm still not sure why. I do firmly believe in hearing all sides of an argument (so long as they are pertinent) before establishing a final judgment. This presentation has certainly heightened my awareness of determinism's place in modern thought. Before too long ago, I had always more or less equated determinism with predestination; although the two can coincide, though, it is not necessary. In fact, they have nothing to do with one another. Determinism is focused on the predictability of individual acts based on the residual effects of previous acts (i.e. conditioning), whereas predestination is more of a fatalism, in which no matter what one does the result is ultimately determined.

Enough with the philosophy lesson. The real question I wanted to raise was this: How often do we consider the true freedom of our daily actions, especially in light of our fundamental desire to see God in the beatific vision. In other words, how do we as Christians recognize the innately free character of truly moral activity, insofar as what is moral will ultimately bring us to the perfection of the moral life in an encounter with God, as he truly is. (That was really more than one question, but considering freedom per se and freedom in the moral life are intimately related, and can hardly be separated for one seeking to understand the Catholic position.)

On the free will side of things, a few weeks ago I began to attend the "school of community" meetings for the campus' Communione e Liberazione group. The topic of discussion has been the nature of freedom in the Christian life: the wonder, questioning, seeking and finally acceptance of faith in Christ as what is truly best and most liberating for man. In this context, freedom is something truly divine—a human participation in the fullness of God's essence, which is per se free. Reconciling this theological freedom with a philosophic view of freedom, though, has been difficult. Of course, philosophy can provide theories of how free will functions which hold water. But I'm beginning to find that the more I think about it, the more free will just simply makes sense. We know we're free. We act like it. We feel like it. Other people treat us as if we are free. We merit praise and blame from others, depending upon our actions. In the end, free will seems to be something entirely self-evident, and often over-thought. The world is constructed as if free will exists, and the world still exists. That's a pretty good case.

Protons & Proto-Inquiry

2008-09-10T12:38:00.012-04:00

Hearing about the successful 'firing' of the Large Hadron Collider (LHC) today in Europe sort of excited me. After reading the BBC's article about the experiment's focus—and listening to the embedded live audio clip—I was even more intrigued. From the way the news agencies were reporting, it sounds like some novel, revolutionary knowledge about sub-atomic particles is an almost certain probability. "We will be able to see deeper into matter than ever before," said one physicist from the University of Liverpool. "We will be looking at what the Universe was made of billionths of a second after the Big Bang. That is amazing, that really is fantastic." (BBC)

As a Catholic, I am very open to the role of scientific research in man's fullest manifestation of himself. After all, as Aristotle tells us, "All men by nature desire to know." What is science other than a systematized basis for coming to know things? If the desire to know is fundamentally natural, it should be treated as are other natural desires; the desires for sleep, food and sex, to name a few. The bottom line: nature is good, and so are the desires it engenders. But, as Aristotle also tells us, "Virtue is in the middle." In other words, extremely impulsive acts—as well as extremely restrictive acts—cannot be a form of virtue, and thereby are deficient in truly articulating human nature in its fullest sense. Just as the appetites for food and sex need to be enjoyed in moderation and within their proper context (viz. hunger and marriage), so too does the desire to know need to be understood within the context of humility in the face of God's infinitude.

All too often, something surfaces in the news that has some group labeling the Catholic Church as being restrictive of 'academic freedom,' 'scientific innovation' or something of the like. Just as often, they cite the locus of such an apparent dilemma in the person of the Roman Pontiff, who so often defends the Church's positions on issues which do not change, despite popular culture's conceptions thereof. But here's something to consider: If I had to make a guess, I bet Pope Benedict XVI was just as excited as me when he turned on his television and caught word of the LHC's successful trial run. Although the pope and I disagree with the prospect of the Big Bang as a viable cause for the universe coming into being, the idea of coming to know more about the world in which we live is nevertheless exciting. The key, I think, is realizing the true beauty of scientific discovery in light of the truths of revelation, which we profess and adhere to as Catholics.

So long as our gaze remains fixed upon the fundamental questions, all the scientific knowledge and learning in the world won't become a problem for us. It is only when we let knowledge control us to the point of acting impulsively that something truly sub-human is occurring. "All men by nature desire to know," indeed. But nature is not the end of man. God is the end of man, and we must continuously realize that all the knowledge in the world is limited to just that—the world. Knowledge of the divine is, however, Wisdom, and transcends both our capacity to understand as well as our capacity to live on this earth. Someday we will die, and someday we will encounter Truth in himself. That seems to me an incredibly fulfilling prospect!

"Weak Sauce"

2008-09-09T19:27:00.016-04:00

My friend—a regular reader of this blog—uses this term to describe things which are less than satisfying in terms of argumentative or convictive substance. I doubt he would define it that way, but I'm pretty sure (based on my own experience of its usage) that this is what he intends by it.

I think we would both agree that Sen. Joe Biden's recent Meet the Press appearance was pretty "weak sauce."

At the risk of sounding polemic toward preeminent Democratic figures—and directing the focus of this blog away from its true telos and toward political commentary—I can't help but mention Biden's display of thoroughly lifeless reasoning on this week's television interview with Tom Brokaw. It is an unsurprising follow-up to Nancy Pelosi's comments of all-too-recent memory. Not only was Sen. Biden's reasoning similarly lifeless, but non-convicting and fallacious as well. When pressed on the question of abortion from the perspective of a Catholic in public office, the response was foreseeably typical: "I'm prepared as a matter of faith to accept that life begins at the moment of conception...But that is my judgment. For me to impose that judgment on everyone else who is equally and maybe even more devout than I am seems to me is inappropriate in a pluralistic society."

While we're at it, we might consider removing murder, rape and pillage from the offenses punishable by United States law. After all, they aren't scientifically demonstrable evils. What are they beyond personal "judgments," imposed upon unsuspecting Americans who have a right to believe and do as they please in our pluralistic society? No one is really right, anyhow. At least not so "right" as to be entitled to press his or her judgment of rectitude onto the masses, who may or may not have voted for such a person to hold an office where precisely that is expected of them. Are we really all right? I guess that's a silly question; who are you to tell me if that is or isn't right? That would be so un-pluralistic of us! I'll think what I think and you think what you think, and we just won't bother with coming to a consensus of truth on this matter or any matter. That will show the world the power of American democracy...

I think a commentary on just why Sen. Biden's remarks were deficient is unwarranted. Hyperbole is worth a thousand words. It's also easier and more entertaining.

[My apologies to all the good Democrats out there. It's just that your party seems to be the one attracting all the nominal Catholics who are willing to compromise 'their' faith for the sake of the public 'good.']

'Freedom' of Religion

2008-09-07T15:54:00.010-04:00

Things have been rather dry lately. My time has been consumed mostly by class, reading, writing and doing that thing I have to do to make money to pay the rent. Although I've had little time to do recreational thinking and writing in recent days, the increasing normalcy of life has given me occasion to reflect on a few things that otherwise I may not have, among them being the implications of the upcoming election, and theories of what I might like to write a thesis on in the near future. I have no definite thoughts on either, but both are coming a little clearer and that's currently good enough for me.

With the 2008 election on the near horizon, it seems that even the occasion for philosophic discourse (i.e. class) has become ever more saturated with polico-centered discussion. This goes without saying for 'normal' conversations with friends and acquaintances. It's a big issue, and something altogether impossible to avoid. The question I've been asking, though, has been this: "What is truly beneficial about discussing politics?" So often it seems that political discourse—on both the macro and micro levels—turns so quickly into either 1) mindless bickering or 2) superficial contradictions based on ill-stated or poorly articulated positions. I suppose the latter is more prevalent. It is also more dangerous.

I mention this in light of a recent conversation with an acquaintance regarding the election, and the ever ubiquitous issues of abortion and homosexual marriage rights. Our discussion began pretty much like every other discussion of the sort, however with one foundational (and I think very important) element: it was not between two Catholics, or even two Christians, but rather between myself and a practicing and devout Muslim. From the outset, the focus of the dialogue centered on just what direction each of us viewed the United States as heading toward by means of its current policies, etc. My position—and the position of a friend of mine participating on the side—was that the US is more or less tending to foster a lessened appreciation for the dignity of human life. The other man's position was that the nation is on a path toward the restriction of freedom of its citizens. Each of us agreed that things appeared to be going more downhill than not, but our perceptions of the origins of the problem were quite diverse.

The interesting part is, both of us saw a downfall; and we both identified it as being restrictive insofar as human life is concerned. The difference occurred in our understandings of 'freedom.' His definition was something much more relative, while mine, I would like to think, was one much more rooted in (at least the notion of) an absolute truth. For the other man, rights to abortion or homosexual unions were a non-issue in the political arena; "Who am I to tell someone what they can or cannot do in their private life." For me, they were not only issues, but central issues and ones at the heart of the entire political question.

I quickly realized that our differing religious views were becoming evident in our political debate. While my understanding of freedom was one aimed at an absolute standard of reality and truth, his was one directed not toward an absolute truth but by it. Such a difference in opinion was, by my best calculation, the ultimate factor in our divergence. It is, coincidentally enough, what I understand to be the fundamental separation between Christian and Islamic theology. The first seems to be focused on a notion of the divine as something toward which all reality flows and because of whose Goodness all things move, undetermined and free; the latter appears, as I see it, a theology much more focused on obligation, duty and—for lack of a better word—determinism. (I am not asserting that the Islamic faith supports a strict determinism of the will, but simply that its doctrines, in their various interpretations, are much more in accord with what we might call a philosophic determinism.)

At any rate, the discussion was an interesting one, and I hope to do some more thinking about it. I would also enjoy hearing any responses or thoughts on the matter. Perhaps I'm way off base. I'm eager to hear what others might be thinking...

Obama: The "Sacred Responsibility" of Life

2008-09-02T13:19:00.015-04:00

It is amazing how manipulative things get in the political arena. Even grammar is not safe from the whims of politicians and—to use a Jon Stewart-ism—the aggrandizement of "party hacks." Our case study today is Michelle Obama's statement about her husband's pro-choice stance: "He’ll protect a woman’s freedom of choice, because government should have no say in whether or when a woman embraces the sacred responsibility of parenthood."

I realize the finer disagreement here is the question of when life begins. If life does not begin at conception, then the pro-abortion position seeks to eliminate the possibility of parenthood before it is actualized. Thus, Mrs. Obama's statement holds some water. Given that set of true premises. On the flip side, if human life begins at conception, then the argument to end life before birth would not prevent any actualization of parenthood, which will already have been initialized in the very act of conception itself. Those are the two sides of the when-does-life-begin debate, with regard to the Obama statement.

My contention is that the statement itself—grammatically speaking—is not only illogical (in that it is an unsound argument), but is even verbally contradictory. The whole point of what Mrs. Obama is trying to get across, it seems, is that a "woman's freedom" is aimed at "sacred responsibility," one of which being parenthood. The choice to embrace this end, then, is in the mind of her husband undefiled by law, and by the government's ability to impose upon what is properly personal and individual to the woman in question. The important part, though, is that Michelle Obama identifies parenthood as sacred, and as a viable end toward which women rightly and justifiably seek to move.

The first question I'd ask Obama, if I had the chance to engage her in dialogue, would be to clarify her qualification of 'sacredness.' If she admitted to believing in some divinely appointed role of parenthood in the plan of universal salvation...well...story over. I think we can all infer how that argument would progress. However, if she means 'sacred' in the sense of what is truly proper to human nature in its fullest and most articulated expression, then we would have another situation entirely. Frankly, I propose that this is probably what she means here—regardless of her individual religious beliefs, whatever they may be. She was speaking, I think, from an anthropocentric viewpoint, common enough to the modern mindset, wherein she intended to demonstrate parenthood as one of the heights of the human experience.

The distinction I would like to make here is of an entirely philosophic nature, yet I believe it is important and quite evidently present in the very statement made by Mrs. Obama. It concerns the presupposition that parenthood can usher forth from pregnancy; I would even argue that it should. Pregnancy, by its nature, and as recognized by Obama's comment, indicates the potential for parenthood. If this were not so, the right to choose would not be sparing some from embracing the "sacred responsibility," but would rather be of a different nature altogether. If this is so, however, doesn't the possibility of a child become necessary in early pregnancy, if the potential for parenthood is present when abortion occurs? If being a 'parent' is directly codependent upon another's being 'son' or 'daughter,' then we can rightly infer that the potential for human life has been initiated at the point of conception—even if many disagree about when that animated life begins. Nevertheless, Michelle Obama's statement is not focused on determining the moment of animation, as we have previously established; it is focused on embracing "sacred responsibility," and nothing sacred can spontaneously be generated if not first in a state of potential, itself in some way sacred by virtue of its life-giving role.

I think it would be difficult for any mother to submit, and particularly one who loves her children, that the right to abortion does not violate something altogether sacred. Although Obama's statement does not seek to identify when life does or does not begin, by seeking to identify parenthood as something intimately linked to pregnancy, she therefore recognizes that the potential for life does exist, even at the most early stages of conception. Her thoughts as a mother are telling. Frankly, I think they betray a fundamental concept of life which is in conflict with her and her husband's outlook on abortion and the 'right to choose.' I am curious what others think of this, and to what extent other Catholics will latch onto her address in similar fashion...

Augustine: The Scholar of 'Evil'

2008-08-28T09:15:00.012-04:00

In a fitting sequence to yesterday's post, today marks the liturgical feast of St. Augustine of Hippo, bishop and doctor of the Church. Augustine's contribution to the theological and philosophical positions of Catholics throughout history has been immense and, as we have recently seen, he continues to play a role even today. Heck, it seems like everyone from Pope Benedict to Nancy Pelosi consider themselves Augustinian thinkers...

Much of Augustine's writing is characterized—by most scholars—as being rigoristic or highly delineated. In other words, his thought is starkly incongruent with most of today's relativistic positions, and is conversely quite well articulated, even to the point of being somewhat doctrinal. Of course, this isn't a critique of the great thinker (of whom I'm quite fond), but rather a realistic forward to his work, and perhaps a brief explanation of why modern personalities often find him somewhat difficult to read. Saint Augustine's most popular work, Confessions, is but one of nearly countless articles and books penned by the fifth-century scholar. City of God and De Trinitate, as well as De Doctrina Christiana and his range of letters against various heretics, mark his other more notable works.

It would be hard to single out just one or two points which Augustine contributed, above all else, to the situation of Catholic theology in the early Middle Ages. Nonetheless, his consideration of the nature of "evil" would be ranked high on anyone's list. The quick summarization of his view: "Evil is the privation of a due good." It is not a substance in itself, but is rather the lack of substance where one should be able to find it. In other words, it is non-being where being ought to be.

Such a simple doctrine as this revolutionized the world in which Augustine lived. Because of his roots as a Manichaen—a belief system which professed that evil and good battle in the cosmos, each force being equal to the other in power and existence—the theologian was well aware that such a unique view on 'good and evil' was indeed revolutionary. Nevertheless, because of his faith and astute understanding of reality, he was able to deduce that evil could not 'exist' in the same way as anything else. Reality is logical; evil is illogical. It occurs when people do things that are contrary to goodness, the ultimate aim of mankind and the ultimate expression of logicality and order. If goodness and good things are rationally desirable, then anything to the contrary is thus irrational and thereby non-existent (in the strict metaphysical sense of the word). This perception of evil as non-being was a radical departure from Manichean thought, as well as from Eastern world views, and marked the beginning of a new form of thought in Western philosophy and theology. Augustine made great progress in our understanding of God, and our perception of his activity in the universe.

For this reason, I would submit that St. Augustine is perhaps one of the greatest sources for the pro-life cause. Despite the clear controversy of late, involving misinterpretations of his doctrine and extrapolations of his thought processes, Augustine himself would nevertheless admit that the deprivation of life where life exists is the greatest form of evil: death. Conversely, to foster and pursue goodness where it exists is precisely the aim of man, and the reason for which he was created. Ultimately, this is made manifest in the beatific vision.

The Augustinian bottom-line is this: God is good, and goodness is made temporally present in the dynamism of created things and, above all, in a human life. Anything promoting the contrary is evil. And I would challenge any politician to represent that view as constitutive of their platform.

Pelosi's Poor Theology

2008-08-27T13:15:00.006-04:00

Nancy Pelosi teaches us an important lesson in the distinction between catechetics and theology: they aren't the same thing.

If you've read the news lately, you couldn't have missed the bit about the Speaker of the House's attempt to justify her pro-choice stance on abortion by aligning herself with the theological tradition of St. Augustine. The following, taken from a rebuttal by her spokesman, sums up her thinking:

After she was elected to Congress, and the choice issue became more public as she would have to vote on it, she studied the matter more closely. Her views on when life begins were informed by the views of Saint Augustine, who said: ‘…the law does not provide that the act [abortion] pertains to homicide, for there cannot yet be said to be a live soul in a body that lacks sensation…’ (Saint Augustine, On Exodus 21.22)

No surprise to any serious scholar of Catholic thought is the fact that the views of saints do not always express the views of the Church. Although saints—and particularly Fathers and Doctors of the Church—attain such recognition by thinking and acting in accord with the faith of the Church, and by pursuing virtue and holiness to a degree that is exemplary and commendable, they are still humans with human opinions and biases. This is precisely one of those examples.

Amidst the onslaught of reprisal from Church authorities (one unprecedented in recent years), US bishops sought to establish just what the position of the Church, in relation to the ideas of saints such as Augustine, really states.

In the Middle Ages, uninformed and inadequate theories about embryology led some theologians to speculate that specifically human life capable of receiving an immortal soul may not exist until a few weeks into pregnancy. While in canon law these theories led to a distinction in penalties between very early and later abortions, the Church's moral teaching never justified or permitted abortion at any stage of development.

These mistaken biological theories became obsolete over 150 years ago when scientists discovered that a new human individual comes into being from the union of sperm and egg at fertilization. In keeping with this modern understanding, the Church teaches that from the time of conception—fertilization—each member of the human species must be given the full respect due to a human person, beginning with respect for the fundamental right to life.

The advance of modern science does not, thus, enable us to condemn St. Augustine as a liar or heretic. He was a product of his environment, scientifically speaking, and was therefore confined to the conceptions of procreation available in his historical period. Nancy Pelosi, and other Catholic politicians, are similarly products of their historical matrix, and are responsible for discerning truth insofar as truth is discernible. It is not appropriate nor just to point toward a medieval conception of reality if modern conceptions and demonstrations of reality prove otherwise; to such would be a denial of man's ability to reason and develop over the course of time, and an ultimate disavowal of his dignity as a rational creature.

What I find most perplexing about this whole matter is that no self-respecting politician nowadays would point to the Middle Ages as a basis for understanding the role of women in the workplace, or in society at large. They would be criticized as supporting chauvinistic and dated views. But to identify a medieval theory of human conception as scientifically valid is not only permissible, for some politicians, it is laudable. "While Catholic teaching is clear that life begins at conception," continued Pelosi's spokesman, "many Catholics do not ascribe to that view." Perhaps Nancy Pelosi and her colleagues in thought are simply ahead of the curve, jumping ahead of what the Church recognizes as true. Or perhaps she is afraid to admit that her position is indefensible. Either way, you can be assured, Saint Augustine is rolling in his grave.

China & Modern Virtue

2008-08-24T13:02:00.001-04:00

There's been a lot of attention given recently to the situation of China-Vatican relations. Especially in light of the Olympics being held in Beijing, the spotlight has been intensely focused on the red country, and its internal as well as foreign policies. For the Catholic world, the last year has also marked the release of Pope Benedict XVI's Letter to Chinese Catholics, in which the Holy Father's wishes for the faithful of China are made quite explicitly known. Nevertheless, the recent invitation from the Bishop of Beijing regarding a papal visit to the Far East has certainly come as a real shock to many, including Vatican officials, who have identified the current state-of-affairs as ranking "premature" for such an apostolic voyage. In his address, given on Italian national television, Bishop Li Shan expressed that "all Chinese Catholics love and respect the pope and recognize his authority," and assured that such a visit is a "great aspiration," and would be a blessing for the Chinese people.

Regardless of how it all turns out—and just how long it takes for a pope to make the journey into these somewhat hostile territories—Bishop Li Shan's statement regarding Chinese Catholics en masse struck me as very telling. What American bishop (or Italian or German bishop, for that matter) could honestly say that "all (insert respective nationality here) Catholics love and respect the pope and recognize his authority"? The answer, as I'm sure most would agree, is virtually none. I'm not even positive that Bishop Li Shan can be 100% sure either. Nonetheless, I bet he is quite certain that about 99.9% fall into that category of faithfulness to the Magisterium and obedience to the Holy Father. And he can be so certain because he knows that to be Catholic in China means to be Catholic in the face of clear and present danger.

For all the things we lack in the West—for example, the preservation of a unified and publicly recognized code of morality—the greatest deficiency we face may be the deficiency of opposition to our faith. Of course, things occur all that time that implicitly provide opposition to the Catholic faith; laws are enacted that support abortion rights, homosexual unions are given legal status, etc. But what I am talking about is an explicit opposition to the faith. And opposition whose goal it is not to undermine the faith by pursuing its own initiatives, but rather to eliminate the faith as its ultimate and final goal. This is the sort of opposition faced by Chinese Catholics, whose Church has been taken away from them and whose practice of the Catholic religion is often times limited to clandestine and secretive gatherings. This too was the type of oppression issued by Roman authorities in the first and second centuries, during which the Christian faith took root and began to flourish throughout the entire known world. If early Christians thrived when most oppressed, their Chinese counterparts will likely do the same. And it is for this reason that Bishop Li Shan can honestly say that his flock loves and respects Pope Benedict XVI and the Church he shepherds.

An interesting investigation is this: If zeal for the teachings of the Holy See is a sign of authentic acceptance of the faith, then what do we find in a large public rejection of those teachings other than a rejection of the faith. Don't tell this to the many American Catholics, who believe that what the Church says is 'outdated' and 'in need of revision.' In fact, I would venture to guess that the majority of American Catholics over the age of 35 or so see thinking more 'progressively' than the Church as being nothing less than a virtue of the modern age. After all—if we can even accept such a classical definition of "virtue" as being a habit which tends toward the good—then surpassing the 'archaic' and 'medieval' mindsets of the Church with 'free-thinking' and 'liberated' approaches to life is a virtue! What then is left for the Church in our culture than to be the object of ridicule and the Club, whose members individually surpass its collective greatness and whose name indicates nothing more than the historical setting into which one has been born?

Certainly, its a bit of a hyperbole. But its not far from the truth. In areas of the world like China, though, its unfathomable. How could the Catholic faith be anything less than the Truth? And how could any Catholic, at least insofar as doctrine and matters of faith are concerned, not support and respect the Roman Pontiff, whose flock we are and whose charge we have become through the Petrine ministry?

For Christians, the image of the sun, rising in the East and setting in the West, has always been an image of Christ. Now, perhaps the lands of the Oriens are an even greater representation of the Body of Christ than the real sun ever could be. We would do well to look East, and discover for ourselves the true meaning of what it means to be Catholic, and how visibly the 'gates of hell' are present when the Church is authentic and alive.

Academic Freedom and Foolery

2008-08-23T10:09:00.012-04:00

Here's an interesting story. It is one of the few promising examples that academia still has the ability to be authentic in its quest for truth. Hopefully more like it will come.

As it seems, the University of San Diego, a Catholic school, has recently withdrawn an offer of professorship it had extended to Rosemary Radford Ruether, a writer and 'theologian' whose main thrust includes the amalgamation of feminism and Catholic theology [a book of whose appears to the right]. Despite the university chair of theology, Lance Nelson, agreeing that she is in fact a "widely respected scholar in the field," the offer for her to teach and hold an endowed position within the theology department was retracted. Nelson went on to assure us, though, that such a withdrawn offer does not indicate that she won't be back for a guest lecture, or something of that ilk. For her part, Ruether believes that "some right-wing group has put pressure on the university," and is therefore concerned for the future of 'academic freedom' at the University of San Diego.

It's funny; I had a conversation one time with a university president about this same issue of academic freedom. I was taking an introductory class in world religions—wherein we studied Buddhism, Judaism, Islam, etc.—throughout the course of which were presented the 'fundamental tenets' of the Christian faith. Although my professor was an Anglican priest, he had no problem denying such truly fundamental Christian beliefs as the virgin birth of Christ, the Resurrection and, to top it all, the Incarnation. "The Incarnation is...well...insufficient," I remember him saying, with a slight chuckle (and I wish I were lying). Nevertheless, when confronted with my complaints of clearly anti-Catholic 'theology' being taught at a Catholic institution (and under the guise of authentic teaching, mind you), all my president could say was that to deny such would be an affront to 'academic freedom,' and more or less that students shouldn't whine about these things.

I rejoice in the fact that, at least somewhere, anti-Catholic thinkers are being barred from the chairs of Catholic institutions. Not that I believe there is no place for 'theologians' like Rosemary Radford Ruether. She can now perhaps devote more of her time to her position on the board of Catholics for Choice (a pro-abortion lobbying group), or to any number of other pursuits which make her unfit to teach at a Catholic institution. At least unfit to teach theology.

And that is really the bottom line: there is a difference between respecting a person for their ability to think clearly, and respecting the ability to think clearly about a subject which has commonly accepted boundaries and scope. Although professors like mine and Ruether are quite obviously no good at doing Catholic theology, nonetheless I'm sure they would be quite proficient in another field. In the academic life, its an act of humility and charity to realize when the time has come to stop with one thing and start with another; perhaps the other is simply not teaching. When public outcry—even from such a secularized and relativistic culture as ours—supports the removal of such phony theologians from positions of respect and authority within Catholic institutions of higher learning, we must heed the warning. To deny that something very wrong is otherwise occurring is not only dangerous but diabolical. Certainly, censuring such dissident thinkers will always result in a feud between 'left and right' factions. But, as Cardinal Ratzinger so eloquently put it, and as we ought always to remember, "Truth is not determined by a majority vote." It is determined by Christ.

More on River Swimming

2008-08-20T08:45:00.003-04:00

As I was writing the last post, I realized that perhaps this whole matter of Anglo-Roman relations could be grounds for a bit of philosophizing. Or theologizing. Perhaps just some obnoxious pontificating. We'll see what happens...

It seems to me that it's only a matter of time until something breaks. The Anglican communion, which has continuously headed into the trends of liberalism, will only withstand so much internal pressure before a leak is sprung and something ruptures. I think the leak has already sprung, and I think the rupture is not too far off. For the sake of reflection, I think this tells us two important things; one about the state of the Anglican community, and another of the state of affairs in the Catholic Church.

First, the Anglicans—and for that matter 'the world.'

The go-with-the-flow mentality of what I would call 'secular churches' is beginning to dominate the religious landscape of the age. Anyone who has had much exposure to the megachurch phenomenon of late can identify with this. It seems that there is an ever present attitude of conformity in these communities—even if it is superficially geared toward a sort of spiritual revival—which ultimately develops into a rigid doctrinalism, utterly incapable of dealing with real issues presented by society and culture. The shift from conformity in doctrine to conformity in secular trends may seem radical; one might even ask if they are not diametrically opposed. Nevertheless, however, the evidence points to such a continuum. It's not so much about the "what" of belief, but rather about the method of believing. If someone is won over to believing a radical principle of 'faith,' which is presented absolutely and remains without rational credibility, what prevents such a person from believing similarly absolute and logically frail cultural values when presented from the perspective of 'faith' in society's ability to judge between good and bad? In other words, if people are taught to believe without requiring rational bases for their assent, the manner of their belief in religious objects becomes the paradigm for their belief in secular objects. This model, I would conclude, is that most familiar in the West, and the model by which the majority of Protestant communities operate.

If this is truly so, then it explains at least part of the Anglican situation. The increasing degree of secularization within the communion is the leak to which I alluded. Certainly, the tendency toward secular conformity does not necessitate the total rupture of what is good and right in the Anglican faith. However, it will be hard to stop, and it is precisely that point of near-non-reversal at which the communion finds itself just now. Vital blows against the integrity of their faith have been struck and, as Cardinal Kasper pointed out, a recession ensues in their dialogue with the Catholic Church. With all the momentum swinging toward full-fledged Protestantism, though, the question still remains: why are the Anglicans so stuck on dialoguing with Rome?

The answer, I believe, is the second part of our initial consideration; what is revealed to us about the state of affairs within the Catholic Church. The Church of England's plight allows a unique glimpse into the Catholic faith, which would otherwise be almost unattainable. The position of a Catholic-based theology struggling to cope with the buffeting of a secular humanist culture offers perhaps the truest notion of what makes the Catholic faith so valuable in the first place. When Anglicans jump ship, they could just as easily swim the Channel (to, let's say, Holland or Sweden), but almost all prefer to seek safe harbor in the embracing arms of the Vatican.

Despite its own struggles with secularization and modernism (cf. Pope Leo XIII's encyclical letter, Aeterni Patris, for a good illustration), the Catholic Church has always maintained that belief, while aided by the theological virtue of faith, is nonetheless to be grounded upon and precipitated by the proper use of reason. Belief is a fundamentally human action—read any modern or post-modern philosopher who struggles with the notion to no end—but beliefs that remain are always and everywhere based on the more primal human affinity for rationality. People don't jump off a ship that is sinking in order to more speedily race to their watery end; they jump off so that they might swim to shore, or be rescued and thereby again touch solid ground. Quite similarly, those who realize the problems facing the Anglican communion do not see any merit in more swiftly securing a place in secular society, but would rather regain a sense of the stability they feel they've lost in recent years. Really, it is no surprise at all that the murky Teverian waters are more and more crowded with those experience the erosion of a formerly, yet only seemingly stable theological situation. Disunion with the Roman Pontiff is a dissociation from the fullness of the Logos, present in the Body of the Church. Fortunately, so long as people are willing to swim, the pope will be there to help them climb the banks of the Borgo and usher them into full union in the one true, holy, apostolic and catholic Church.

Kasper's Trastevere Address

2008-08-19T10:16:00.007-04:00

One of the major themes for the past year in Catholic ecumenical relations has been the state of affairs between the Roman Church and the Anglican and Episcopalian communities. No doubt, the conversion of former prime minister, Tony Blair, had a huge impact on the media's perception of this subject. Moreover, the continual trend of the Anglicans toward 'liberality' seems to be throwing up more red flags, and warranting more censure from Roman authorities. Just recently, Cardinal Walter Kasper, in his address to the world-wide Anglican conference being held in Canturbury, indicated that the dialogue between the Roman Church and the Church of England "has receded further" from what was its original aim (i.e. the prospect of full ecclesial unity), and that the "dialogue will have less ultimate goals and therefore will be altered in its character." "While such a dialogue could still lead to good results," continued Kasper, "it would not be sustained by the dynamism which arises from the realistic possibility of the unity Christ asks of us, or the shared partaking of the one Lord’s table, for which we so earnestly long."

What the cardinal is speaking of centers on one two main points: ecclesiology and a theology of the priesthood (itself rooted in a proper notion of ecclesiology). Ecclesiology is the study of the Church; how is it ordered, how does it function properly, how is it rooted in Christ, etc. The fundamental ecclesiological difference between Anglicans and Catholics is a differing view on the role of bishops and, therefore, the Bishop of Rome. In his address, Kasper cited Cyprian of Carthage, an early Church Father, who noted that the the role of bishops is a role of "episcopatus unus et indivisus"—a single and undivided episcopacy. This singular and unity-centered mindset, as I have noted in previous posts, was a hallmark of patristic theology, and one of the basic reasons the Church flourished so much in the times just after Christ's earthly life. While the Catholic Church is the Catholic Church precisely because its bishops are "one and undivided" with the Roman Pontiff, the Christian groups not in union with Rome—Protestants, Orthodox churches, etc.—are out of communion for the simple fact that they openly refuse such unity. While the conditions of the Orthodox Church and Protestant communities differ in degree of separation, nevertheless the same fundamental principle is at play. The Anglicans, being one of the 'closer' Protestant groups, were a primary target for dialogue due to their theological and ecclesiological proximity with Rome.

What Kasper speaks of, though, regarding the recession of this dialogue in recent years, is none other than the consent of the Anglican communion to acknowledge, and even promote, homosexual "marriages" (and thereby to open the door for homosexual priests and bishops). According to Rome, this is bad theology. No need to expound upon that here; for a better understanding of the theology of the priesthood, I would recommend Pope Paul VI's letter, Sacerdotalis Caelibatus, Pope John Paul II's Ordinatio Sacerdotalis, or simply a glance to the Catechism of the Catholic Church on the matter. The simple fact I intend to convey is that the Anglican communion is knowingly and consciously severing their ties with Rome by their blatant actions, and the Vatican is not willing to turn a blind eye. Moreover, the ordination of women to the priesthood and episcopacy has "greatly complicated relations between the Anglican Communion and the Catholic Church." Perhaps summing up the situation best, Kasper remarked with the following:

As I stated when addressing the Church of England’s House of Bishops in 2006, for us this decision to ordain women implies a turning away from the common position of all churches of the first millennium, that is, not only the Catholic Church but also the Oriental Orthodox and the Orthodox churches. We would see the Anglican Communion as moving a considerable distance closer to the side of the Protestant churches of the 16th century, and to a position they adopted only during the second half of the 20th century.

Certainly, although the Catholic Church is compassionate to the plight faced by the Anglican communion, it nevertheless continues to urge her toward full union. The last thing Rome wants to see is for a community with such a venerable theological and cultural tradition move slowly but surely into the realm of complete dissociation. However, that is looking more and more inevitable. In the meantime, more and more Anglicans and Episcopalians will continue to contemplate the proverbial 'Tiber crossing,' making their way to the Church by breaking their own ties with Canterbury. The big one to watch now: the Episcopal Diocese of Fort Worth, Texax, which has been in continually more intricate dialogues with the Catholic Diocese of Forth Worth.

I for one hope to see this 'conflict' resolved in a 'good' manner. Whatever that means. But perhaps the conversion of splinter groups of Anglicans to the Catholic faith is just what it will take for the whole communion to realize what sort of situation they've been breeding for these last 500 years.

2008-08-18T10:18:00.002-04:00

Welcome to the new face of In Umbris Sancti Petri. I figured it was time for a little change. The white-on-black text format was starting to hurt my eyes. Perhaps this look is a little more user-friendly...and inviting? Let me know what you think!

YHWH: Sacred Silence

2008-08-14T11:30:00.022-04:00

In more recent news from the Vatican, the Congregation for Divine Worship has issued a directive concerning the utterance of the Name of God in Catholic liturgy. The Hebrew 'tetragrammaton' for the name of God, YHWH (often depicted as "Yahweh"), is no longer to be said aloud during the course of the Mass or any other liturgy of the Church. This will not alter any of the official texts of the Mass, since the Church has always held regard for the sacred name, which is an acronym for the Hebrew words, "I AM WHO AM"—the name given to Moses by God in the Book of Exodus. The only alterations which will need to be made at present, according to the CWN report, pertain to some hymns, which invoke "Yahweh" by name. This is good news for the US bishops, who have been working tirelessly on the approval of new translations of the official liturgical texts.

However, I don't think it's coincidence that the Vatican directive on the pronunciation of the tetragrammaton is aimed only at non-official texts. Certainly, the scope of this new instruction as being aimed only at miscellaneously published texts in songs and other improvised prayers (such as the prayers of the faithful, etc.) is not without cause. The fundamental reason, in my opinion, is that this isn't the first time the Church has dealt with this topic. Even recently, in the 2001 document from the Congregation, Liturgicam Authenticam, the same issue is addressed:

In accordance with immemorial tradition...the name of almighty God expressed by the Hebrew tetragrammaton (YHWH) and rendered in Latin by the word Dominus, is to be rendered into any given vernacular by a word equivalent in meaning. (LA, 41)

Biblical translators have used a variety of words to translate the tetragrammaton, including Dominus, and its Greek version, Kyrios, both stemming from the Hebrew word, Adonai. In fact, the tradition of using alternative titles for God, other than the proper name given in Exodus, has been continuously present in the formation of liturgical texts since the early days of the Church. The curious matter here seems to be, "Why all of a sudden a directive with the intent of restricting the use of the Name of God?"

The answer, I think, lies in a greater problem than simply the utterance of the word, "YHWH." The modern mindset seems to tend toward two extremes, both of which are equally harmful: either 'all is sacred' or 'nothing is sacred.' In the end, both equal out to pretty well the same thing. Both deny the rift between what is transcendental and what is ordinary. In short, both deny the need for mediation between the natural and supernatural. In Christian theology, we call this mediator Jesus Christ. Without Christ, there is no mediation between God and man; sinfulness and brokenness bind man irrevocably. Thus, without the Mediator, nothing is sacred (except of course that which we cannot ever hope to attain). On the flip side, if one assumes that the rift between transcendent and ordinary is bridged by human nature—somehow able to traverse both sides of the metaphysically unbridgeable gap—then the result is that 'all is sacred,' insofar as "all" is experienced and has to do with man's primacy over everything else.

The appearance, in recent years, of "Yahweh" in the liturgy is perhaps nothing other than the beginnings of such a mindset. It should go without saying that many of the songs used in worship have become increasingly less-theological and more-emotive. While there is nothing wrong with acknowledging and articulating emotion and its connection with our created and redeemed nature, we need to be aware that all perception of emotion must necessarily coincide with our theological understanding of God. If our hearts and minds are not pointed in the same direction, we are acting duplicitously. This is not the action called for by the Church.

Although uttering the Name of God during Mass is perhaps a small indication of this mindset, it is nonetheless an indicator. As Catholics, we ought to be ever conscious of our tendencies toward self-exaltation and pride. If we truly believe that 'calling upon the name of the Lord' is a sacred action—sacred enough in Jewish tradition that to utter it is a profanation thereof—then our liturgical and public actions should reflect that truth. The Church, herself born from the Jewish faith, understands this serious responsibility of the faithful to act in accord with such a prominent tradition. We should always seek to understand more and more how we might venerate the blessed Name of God, especially when we are so close to that same Lord in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.

Veritas Dulcis Est

2008-08-12T14:27:00.014-04:00

I know. You are thinking that the header of this post might be the title of the latest papal encyclical. I'm quite sure it's not. But Fr. Foster, if you decide to use my idea I won't hold it against you...

Actually, such a quippy phrase seemed the best way to introduce Pope Benedict XVI's recent meeting with priests at his summer get-away, Bolzano-Bressanone. The candid conversation with priests of the diocese covered many issues, some of which many of us (underlings) often discuss amongst ourselves. Topping the list—in terms of outside attention anyhow—were the topics of sacramental administration and catechesis. What I found to be most interesting was the Holy Father's reply to a question about administering Holy Communion to those who are visibly unprepared to receive:

In response to another question about what do with the children and young people who request First Communion and Conformation but do not appear to be ready to persevere in the faith, Benedict XVI confessed that “when I was younger I was stricter. I said, the sacraments are the sacraments of the faith, and therefore where there is no faith, there is no praxis of faith, and thus the sacrament cannot be conferred. And I discussed this latter with my priests when I was Archbishop of Munich. (…) As time has gone on I have come to understand that we must follow always the example of the Lord, who was very open to those on the fringes of Israel at that time as well, He was a Lord of mercy, very open—according to many official authorities—with sinners, embracing them and allowing himself to be welcomed at their dinners, attracting them to communion with Him.”

“If we can perceive even a flicker of desire for communion in the Church, a desire also of these children who want to enter into communion with Jesus, I think it is fair to be more generous. Naturally of course, one aspect of our catechesis should be to make it understood that Communion, First Communion, is not an ending event, but rather demands a continual friendship with Jesus, a journey with Jesus,” the Pope continued. (CNA, 12 Aug. 2008)

I found this little glimpse into the heart of the pontiff very telling. First of all, it does wonders in breaking apart what remnants endure of the Panzerkardinal's 'rule-with-an-iron-first' reputation. More importantly, though, it exemplifies his true desire to work for religious conversion in the hearts of the faithful and non-faithful alike. It certainly seems that with a perspective like this about the distribution of Holy Communion, the pope is promulgating the true efforts of the Church to bring all into communion with the Lord, and that in the most genuine and truly Christian sense of the word.

Nevertheless, I would suspect that some former Ratzis are probably wondering just what has happened to their Motu Proprio pushing, 'traditionalist' pope. Sure enough, such a candid disclosure of his heart will earn Benedict more than a few opponents: "How can he distribute communion on the tongue, kneeling on the one hand," they will say, "and admit to something like this on the other?"

The careful and attentive observer, however, will notice that what the Holy Father has stated in Bressanone is not at all a contradiction to the distribution of Holy Communion on the tongue and kneeling. Instead, it is an affirmation of the True Presence of Christ in the Eucharist; it is evidence—it seems to me—of Christ's presence in his Church and in her mission of converting hearts and saving souls. The pope understands that regulations on the administration of the sacraments do not flow from a desire to litigate, but a desire to love. He understands that catechesis is not a matter of indoctrination, but a matter of loving instruction. Most of all, he understands that the truth is not a weapon—something we wield against enemies to see how much damage we can inflict. Rather, it is something as sweet as honey, and something toward which we must continue to attract others' hearts by our own deeds of service, charity and mercy.

Jesus Christ: "Lord of History"

2008-08-09T19:38:00.009-04:00

I've noticed recently that one of Pope Benedict XVI's favorite titles for Our Lord is "il Signore della storia"—the Lord of history. I suppose this name is somewhat understood at first glance; Jesus Christ was a historical person (a fundamental belief of the Catholic faith) and he is rightly called "Lord," both by his disciples and by us. He is a historical Lord, then, a title which combines two of the most basic truths of Christ's life on earth. That's really all you have to know.

But why stop at the surface when the depths to be mined are so rich? There must be more in Benedict's words than meet the eye. What does he intend to say by calling Jesus Christ the "Lord of history."

First of all, connecting "Lord of history" with simply "a historical Lord" results in an unjustified equation. In the latter, "historical" modifies "Lord"; that means that "historical"—at least grammatically—is more important and influential than "Lord." In the pope's terminology for Christ, however, "Lord" retains a dominance over and above "history" which is definitive. Just as a master is the "master of a slave," Jesus is the Lord who possesses history. It is much more than saying that Christ was a historical person. Instead, it is saying that all history finds its very existence in the existence of Jesus Christ; that God is the life-giving font of all history, and his Son is its master.

"Why is this important," I hear you asking yourself. Precisely because it sums up the fullness of our faith! Certainly, the beauty and mystery of the Mass, the unbroken and lasting perseverance of Tradition, and the ever-discoverable truths of Sacred Scripture find their roots and terminus in Jesus Christ, in whom is contained all being. What would the scriptures be if not the manifestation of the divine Logos, already present before their very transcription? Where is the value of the Catholic Mass if not in Christ, already present in glory as well as in the history of mankind? Is is precisely Christ who holds together all value and sensibility. We no doubt have a sensible grasp on history, and therefore must realize that it finds its very being in the person of Christ.

Nevertheless, there is a perduring element of mystery, which cannot be looked over nor discarded without concern. Seeing Christ as the primordial being, surrounding and engulfing all human, cosmic and spiritual history in himself, is nothing short of a leap of faith. In other words, we cannot prove scientifically that this is the case. However, we can prove scientifically—if we consider philosophy and metaphysics a 'science,' as the ancients and medievals rightly did—that there must be something beyond our knowledge which we cannot explain, and that this 'something' must have given life when there was no life. The "unmoved mover," as Aristotle says, is the philosophic notion of God, and this mysterious force, which philosophy and speculation can only infer by necessity, presents us with the case for a "Lord of history." Who is this unmoved life-giver, who can contain all reality and history within himself? With faith the answer is simple. Pope Benedict says it so well: "Gesú Cristo è il Signore della storia!"

The Road Less Traveled

2008-08-05T22:55:00.012-04:00

In light of my forthcoming academic ventures (and the title of this blog), I thought this bit of news was appropriate...

Quite noticeably present among the up-and-coming scholars of the Catholic world—my peers and I in particular—looms the ever dangerous tendency of finger-pointing. Often we are not allowed to forget it, as it quite regularly comes to the fore as a major criticism from older generations of scholars: "...this conservative movement amongst the young people in the Church... grumble, grumble." Certainly these conservative and, as I would prefer to consider them, more orthodox trends in thought are not equal to finger-pointing. But, nevertheless, the former does quite often seem to give way to the latter. Indeed, both sides of the "conservative/liberal" debate can be duly charged and found guilty of such offenses.

But when I read this story I was encouraged. Finally, an exemplary case of what should and can happen when it comes to dissidence and orthodoxy. Moreover, it is a vital example of the early Church's model of public penitence and reparation, illustrating its life-giving effects.

As the story goes, a former Catholic priest who had signed a document protesting the publication of Humanae Vitae in 1968 recently wrote to Human Life International, asking forgiveness for his dissident actions. The man—a practicing Catholic who raised his family in the Church after being laicized by Pope Paul VI—expressed in his letter that by openly assenting to Catholic doctrine, he hoped to experience "a peace of mind and heart that [he had] not experienced since 1968." By publicly denouncing his former dissidence, the man rejoiced that his "repudiation of the Protest is now known and accepted in a kind of semi-official sort of way by an 'authority' in the Church." "Thank you for reading this," he concluded his letter, "thereby humoring an old man, who despite everything else knows that he is a 'priest forever, according to the Order of Melchizedek.'"

The beauty of such humility overwhelmed Fr. Thomas Euteneuer, the president of Human Life International; so much so that he "shed tears of gratitude" upon reading it. Indeed, the beauty of the apology and assent to an orthodox position should cause all of us to experience some of this same gratitude. After all, isn't this precisely what the Church hopes for when She chastises or silences a theologian? If reconciliation were not the aim, then we would not be Christians. But, as the early Fathers affirm time and again in their apologies to the Roman authorities, it is the deep and abiding goal of all Christians to see the conversion of hearts to the Truth of the faith. Such laudable courage, when demonstrated authentically, has even produced some of the finest theologians the Church has ever known. A twentieth-century example might be the eminent American thinker, Avery Cardinal Dulles, S.J. [right, with Pope Benedict XVI], or the French cardinal, Henri DeLubac; both of whom, after a period of censure, proved to be invaluable figures for modern theological progress.

I think we can learn a lot from this most unpopular but truly humble avenue of reconciliation with the Church and her teachings. Finger-waving cannot be our goal as Catholics, no matter the issue of concern. Perhaps if we prayed for the conversion of dissident thinkers and stopped deriding them with coarse ridicule, we would actually promote an attitude of more genuine dialogue, and prepare the ground for true conversion of heart. Truly praying and honestly discussing, however, is a thing much easier said than done.

2008-08-02T13:17:00.003-04:00

Alas, my beloved blogging project is falling to ruin! Believe it or not, it's been at least a few days since I've even given a thought to posting, much less done something about it. The move back to the States has been a busy and discombobulated one...finally I am emerging into the daylight, however, and the regularity which is brings.

For those following the trek, I'm now set up with a place to live and work, and will commence with philosophy classes at the end of August. Having a somewhere to call home (at least temporarily) will hopefully afford me the chance to post regularly again. Not only having a place, but also a community to feel at home in here at the university is key in forming fresh ideas for thought. I hope that the new friends I make here will contribute as much as my current ones have in shaping my desire to understand and articulate the beauty of Catholicism. For all of you faithful readers, please keep reading...and drop a line in the comments box from time to time, either to interject your own opinions on a matter or just simply let me know you are there!

Thanks again for your prayers, and know that I will be praying for you. Time to recommit the subject of this blog from "my life" to the "meaning of life"--i.e. encountering Jesus Christ in today's world...

2008-07-08T18:57:00.001-04:00

I have not forgotten you (again!) No... I have been all over the place back in the States, and will be doing such for the next couple of weeks. When I have some spare minutes, though, I will be making an attempt to post. Please continue to pray for me, and know that I will be blogging more regularly when the school year comes around again... in a mere month!

"Venite, Adoremus..."

2008-07-01T09:10:00.000-04:00

Probably not a shock to anyone who's been following Vatican practices for the last few years, Pope Benedict's reported affinity for Communion on the tongue has been confirmed by the pope's chief liturgist, Msgr. Guido Marini. According to the Catholic News Agency, Marini testified that "people receiving Communion kneeling and on the tongue will become common practice at the Vatican." No doubt, this step toward further adherence to the liturgical tradition of the Church was a long time coming; this and similarly traditional observations have been continuously implemented all throughout Benedict's papacy.

The practice of receiving Communion on the tongue—as many are familiar with—is still the 'normal' means by which to receive the Holy Eucharist. "In this regard," Msgr. Marini reminds us, "it is necessary not to forget the fact that the distribution of Communion on the hand remains, up to now, from the juridical standpoint, an exception (indult) to the universal law, conceded by the Holy See to those bishops' conferences who requested it." According to the CNA, the United States ranks among quite a few other countries whose bishops have elected to pursue such an indult.

Benedict XVI's affection for such a posture of prayer upon reception of Holy Communion has come to the forefront in recent days, specifically after his pastoral visit to the coastal Italian town of Brindisi. All of the faithful who received Communion from the Holy Father during this celebration did so kneeling and on the tongue. As can be expected, this occurrence caused some uproar among less traditionally-minded groups in the Church, and evoked jubilant praise for those on the other side of the liturgical fence. The ultimate goal of the pope's gesture—I am quite sure—was not to inspire further animosity between 'left and right wing' Catholics, though. As pastor of the universal Church, Pope Benedict undoubtedly seeks not only to reconcile existing differences among the faithful, but to steep both 'sides' in the rich authenticity of the Catholic Tradition. The Holy Father's distribution of Communion kneeling and on the tongue is not a diatribe against the past forty years of liturgical reform, nor an emphatic affirmation of the 'traditionalist' position. Instead, it is a faithful articulation of liturgical piety and genuine Catholic teaching surrounding the dignity and honor due to Our Lord, present in the Blessed Sacrament.

If it is in fact true that the reception of Holy Communion in papal liturgies will soon assume the traditional form practiced in Brindisi, then we as Catholics ought to rejoice. The Holy Father is seeking to show us the fullness of tradition present in the Sacred Liturgy. Since the liturgy itself is the prima theologia, and the fundamental means of catechesis for the faithful, how could a further respect and reverence for Jesus Christ in the Eucharist possibly be a step in the wrong direction?

Princes & Patriarchs: Pallium Mass 2008

2008-06-29T12:46:00.012-04:00

Today, the Feast of Sts. Peter & Paul, marks not only the liturgical commemoration of the two 'Princes of the Church,' but also the conferral of the pallium upon the Church's new metropolitan archbishops. The pallium, signifying the pastoral role of the new archbishop over his particular 'see,' is bestowed directly by the Holy Father in an annual Mass, celebrated in St. Peter's Basilica in Rome. The primacy of juridical authority proper to the pope as Bishop of Rome is thus (symbolically) passed on to the newly appointed leaders of metropolitan archdioceses throughout the world. Although the pallium celebration is merely an outer sign of a much greater and interior reality, the solemnity of the celebration is certainly one of the most renowned in the liturgical year.

The imposition of the pallium coincides with the Feast of Sts. Peter & Paul for a very good reason: Peter is the 'rock,' upon which the entire Church was constructed by Christ; and Paul is the great preacher of that Church's faith. Together, Peter and Paul symbolize the founding and expansion of the Christian faith. In particular, Peter is understood to be the faith's representative to the Jews—he was present in Palestine from the time of Jesus' Ascension, through the events of the Acts of the Apostles, participating in the Council of Jerusalem, and finally leaving later to establish the Church in Rome. Paul, on the other hand, is called the 'Apostle to the Gentiles'—although he was present in Jerusalem for some time, his missionary efforts were predominately focused upon Greek-speaking areas of the Mediterranean, and finally Rome, where he was martyred and buried. The joint testimony of Peter and Paul truly accounts for the faith of the early Church. This same faith—which is today entrusted to the new metropolitan archbishops from around the globe—is especially present in the Church in Rome, and in the teaching and pastoral office of the Bishop of Rome, Pope Benedict XVI.

This year's celebration of the Pallium Mass is particularly important, since the Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople, Bartholomew I, is present in Rome for the beginning of the 'Pauline Year.' His All Holiness Bartholomew I, as head of the Orthodox Church in Turkey, holds a distinct position among the Orthodox bishops. Precisely one of the main reasons for the Great Schism between the Catholic and Orthodox Churches in 1054 AD, the primacy of one bishop over others has been a key point of theological disagreement throughout history. The Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople is considered, in the East, to be primus inter pares ('first among equals'). Thus, while he is not seen as "higher" than other bishops, he is given the privilege of presiding at synods involving other Orthodox bishops. In the West, however, the 'Patriarch' or Rome (i.e. the pope) is seen not as a 'first among equals,' but rather as the head of the entire Catholic Church, with a distinction of office and dignity that truly sets him apart, over and above the office of other bishops. This ecclesiological distinction resulted in the mutual excommunication of both the Bishop of Rome and the Patriarch of Constantinople in the year 1054. Although the excommunications were lifted in 1965, the difference in theological outlooks endures to this day.

In light of this great historical difference between East and West, the presence of the Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople at a Roman Pallium Mass should inspire more than a little awe. As the Pallium Mass signifies so clearly the Western belief that the pope can and does dispense, through the authority of Peter, a shared authority to the rest of the Church's bishops, the presence of the principle Eastern Patriarch indicates some level of mutual respect and hospitality between the two Churches that has not always been so noticeable. Benedict XVI has long been identified as a diligent laborer on the ecumenical front, and today's events are evidence of that fact. It is no doubt that the rift between East and West is getting smaller and smaller, due in no small part to the theological and pastoral adeptness of our current Holy Father. The Pallium Mass of 2008 should be the cause of much hope and rejoicing for Catholics and Orthodox alike. Never before—since the Great Schism of 1054—has reconciliation between the Churches seemed so feasible. How fitting that it should occur on this day, marked specifically by its commemoration of the two ancient Princes of the Church. How pleased the Lord must be to see that his one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church growing closer and closer to perfect unity.

Gender & Essence: A Critical Distinction

2008-06-27T22:36:00.029-04:00

After watching a 20/20 special about cases of transgender children in today's world, I was lead to reflect upon the significance of meaning present when one says the word, "gender." So much is hidden in this one word—even the fullness of reality conveyed in a person's proper name is coincidentally bound up with some gender identity. It is quite undoubtedly impossible to speak of any animate object without in turn applying some gender-specific pronoun: "he," "she" or the specifically neuter, "it." Nothing within the realm of human speech—at least in the English language—falls outside these categories. Gender seems to permeate the entire world of human experience. We cannot escape it.

A problem arises, though, when 'gender distinctions' begin to blur. This happens in a variety of ways, especially in modern society, but all such cases result in similar outcomes. A loss of gender-based clarity occurs in everything from inflated gender identity to transgender self-identity. The fundamental consequence of blurred gender distinction, it seems, is the inability to further view the human person as an individually created and objectively important reality. Separating 'gender' from 'who-ness' is a dangerous business; it supposes the self-assumed identity to be the objectively-assigned identity. In other words, it presumes that the subjective apprehension of self suffices in articulating the divine and objectively ordered meaning present in the individual human person.

The case which comes to mind right now is that of 20/20's transgender children. It seems to provide a good example. Although I don't profess to know much about the hormonal and biological aspects of opposite gender identification, merely looking at the issue through the lens of philosophy tells us much about the realities hidden below the surface. To begin, an objective and observable reality (one of primary import to human life) is disregarded as 'false.' The ostensible sign of masculinity or femininity is dubbed insufficient for discerning whether or not the person in question is truly masculine or feminine. Hereafter, a quest for self-identity ensues which is no longer rooted in the empirical observation of facts, but rather in the subjective experience of 'self,' and that self's assertion of what it is that truly constitutes its own essence. The observable facts are thrown out all together. The outcome is that the essential qualities of the individual subject seem thus to be consequents of the self's autonomous pre-existence. The ultimate result: an existentialist notion of reality, wherein overarching human essence is meaningless until actualized in the individual person—a person identified not by his or her notable qualities, but rather by means of an Enlightenment-esque, epistemologically grounded mindset.

While this syllogistic line of reasoning may be lacking a full exposition of its implicit premises, the deduction should appear quite clear: the basis of gender distinction cannot originate in the subject. At the same time, it cannot originate completely in the object. Rather, full account of the objective facts surrounding the individual subject must be made, and the subject ought then rightly to conclude that the physical phenomena of gender, present in the body, point to the truth of gender present in him or herself. In this way, neither the existence or essence of the human person is isolated from the other, and a more integrated, organic approach to personhood is maintained. This integration is foundational to the Christian perspective of what it means to be a "human person," formed in the "image and likeness of God," and tending toward likeness with Christ, who is the fullness of Truth and Self-Knowledge.

Poor Protesting Etiquette

2008-06-24T09:34:00.010-04:00

I'm not opposed to protests. In fact, in many cases I am a big supporter. Protests have been the basis of many good social developments over the course of human history. Small groups working in unison can make a difference in the world at large. Nevertheless, the fundamental principle of any protest, though, should not be the devaluation of the party being protested against, but rather the positive promotion of a value or truth currently unrealized by the majority group. Negative tactics cannot bring about positive truth.

With that in mind, I've found a scenario which appears to go precisely contrary to the form of 'good protesting': demonstrators handing out condoms to youth attending a Mass at this year's World Youth Day. The seemingly-loving-yet-pompous battle cry of the "NoToPope Coalition," antagonists at this summer's demonstration: "We don't want to condemn Catholic youth for being Catholics. We want to condemn the pope for being homophobic and anti-condom."

To the modern ear, such a line seems downright logical; "We can condemn one man for being something, and leave the entire group he is in charge of untouched. Clearly, what Catholics believe en masse has nothing to do with the theocratic egoism of the one who claims to be the Vicar of Christ on Earth. That's just pompous." On the other hand, though, and for the more astute listener, the fallacy hidden in the reasoning becomes ever more apparent; "How can one 'condemn the pope' and not 'condemn Catholic youth for being Catholic?'" This is perhaps more degrading than simply condemning the youth flat out. In this way, since they admit to being in line with the pope's teaching, they are assumed either to be irreconcilably obsequious or completely unaware of the faith they profess. Either reality seems far worse than being 'condemned.'

I have a suggestion for those self-assumedly gentle protesters in the NoToPope Coalition: condemn the kids too.

Why leave unscathed a myriad of young people who clearly disagree with those 'values' the NoToPope people are seeking to promote? Why not touch the fact that the innocent and supposedly indoctrinated Catholic youth present at this papal Mass will understand all too well the lie that "the pope's teachings contributed to 67,000 women dying every year from backyard abortions." What about the contribution made by pro-abortionists to the death of millions of babies each year? Why not call a spade a spade? Why not at least venture to posit some truth in the midst of clearly biased and uneducated slander? The protesters themselves admit to this bias by their manifest aggression toward one man and not toward a contested understanding of truth. They admit their unwillingness to fight on the grounds of reality, and their desire to remain confined to the sphere of idealizations and 21st century sophistry.

While 'good' protests depend on the positive articulation of truth, the witness of the Catholic faith depends on this principle even more. To witness to the faith means to express with one's entire life the positive reality of Christ in the world; the positive presence of the Truth among men. If profane society seeks to show the world the truth, let them begin by demonstrating that truth. But if they fail at that, let them at least begin by attacking well the Truth which the Church possesses. "All men, by nature, desire to know," writes Aristotle. It is, then, part of our very vocation to holiness as Catholics and Christians to give evidence of the Truth to be known via this desiderium naturale by the example and testimony of our entire lives.

2008-06-21T04:54:00.002-04:00

To the faithful remnant that is still keeping up on the blog, thanks! Count on more posts in the near future. I know I keep saying that, but really this time! After getting all of my stuff together and finalizing plans to leave for more English-speaking shores early tomorrow morning, I will make sure to fit in some blogging whenever I can. It is exciting to know that my return to the "land of steak and potatoes" is imminent. For now, however, I must leave just another short 'filler' post and continue packing. I have definitely had some good ideas brewing in my mind over the course of these exams, and hopefully they will soon be unpacked and articulated for all ya'll to consider. In the mean time, please continue praying for me. Thanks!

The Church: Essential Unity

2008-06-15T13:49:00.012-04:00

Thanks to all of you who commented and/or promised your prayers for my continued discernment of God's will. I truly appreciate being so joyfully commended to the Lord's loving Providence. I do not doubt that he will manifest himself all the more clearly now that he has lead me to this new nexus of prayer and study. Again, thank you.

Strangely enough, this entire occurrence ties in seamlessly with what I've been studying for my exams, and what I wanted to post about today: the early Fathers of the Church and their view on ecclesial unity. Studying the Fathers has always been one of the key elements of studying the Catholic faith; without them, unlocking the wisdom of the scriptures becomes impossible, and seeing the faith through the indispensable lens of Tradition becomes something totally unthinkable. One theme the Fathers stress continually, and in many different contexts, is the invaluable and ultimately indissoluble nature of unity in the Church. Unity is the fundamental characteristic of the Catholic Church, for if it were not of one spirit and mind it would in fact no longer be ecclesial (from the Greek, ekklesia, meaning "assembly, church"). All the early writers agree on this one point. The question one might ask, though, is just what is intended when one says, "unity of the Church?"

Viewing the "Church" as some external, inanimate object is a basic stumbling block for many. Clearly, the Catholic Church is not the brick or wooden church where we celebrate Mass. Neither is St. Peter's Basilica in Rome. Nor is it the college of bishops or Cardinals. It isn't even the pope. While all of these are indispensable elements of an authentic "Church," none alone suffice in constituting it. In addition, it is wrong to think of the Church as the mere ideas professed by the Church; i.e. the moral and doctrinal teachings which we understand to be Catholic are not the Catholic Church itself. While ideas are 'spiritual' and not simply material and inanimate, they nevertheless derive their significance and 'dynamism' from those who profess to hold them.

In the end, the true "Church" is constituted by the whole body, or assembly, which calls itself and is authentically attempting to be Catholic. The Church is formed in the "image of God," just as man: Saint Irenaeus or Lyons explains the bishops as having the role of God the Father, giving life to the rest of the community under their care. The assembly, then, as the "Body of Christ," partakes in the role of God the Son. Binding the two in unitive love, finally, is the Holy Spirit, functioning in the Church just as fully as he functions in the intimate life of the Triune God. Not only is the Church the image of God, the Catholic Church is truly the "mystical body of Christ." We come to know the Trinity by realizing the saving mission of Jesus Christ, and in his establishing the Church to continue that same purpose. As such, the unifying role of the Holy Spirit is utterly essential to the existence of the Church. Without unity in the Holy Spirit, there is no Church.

Seeing all of this, it gives me great comfort to know that so many are praying for me. Likewise, it should comfort each one of us to know that we are in union with so many others in the one Body of Christ, and that our bond is nothing less than the Third Person of the Trinity himself! We ought never to forget the obligation we have, then, to pray ceaselessly and to do all things in order to strengthen and manifest that bond, which God himself has graciously entrusted to his Church.

It's Official...

2008-06-12T08:18:00.003-04:00

Sometimes the Lord works with us in mysterious ways. This past year of learning, prayer and discernment at the North American College has been an incredible chance for me to learn more and more about how the Lord is calling me to serve him with my own life. He has first of all invited me to a deeper interior life, and poured grace into my heart that I might see him as the central and ultimate focus of my entire being. He has shown me a profound beauty in the Catholic priesthood that truly appeals to my heart. He has also shown me the eminent mission of service in the Church and to the Church, and the joy that can flow from loving care and compassion for the poor and sick.

Fortunately, God does not only manifest one 'side' of his saving mission, though. He presents to us all the options, in order that we might make a free and peace-filled decision to serve him with our entire life. In addition to the joy of priesthood, the Lord has also used this year to show me the beauty of the vocation of marriage, and the life-giving capacity of conjugal chastity. In short, God has surpassed my expectations, which is not uncommon, and has prompted my heart with desires I never foresaw a year ago.

In order to take the time to discern well what the Lord is calling me toward, and as a result of the helpful guidance of my spiritual director and many close priests and friends, I will be taking a "leave of absence" from the Diocese of Toledo in the coming year and pursuing graduate philosophical studies in the States. During this time I will continually be seeking to understand God's will for me, and how he intends me to serve him most fully.

In light of this rather large decision, I've considered a few things that I'd like to share here. Perhaps the most beautiful thing about the spiritual life is the tension between "call" and "choice" that exists in our vocation. If our fundamental vocation is to holiness, as the Second Vatican Council says, then our vocation in life should ultimately reflect that movement toward sanctity. Although God calls each of us to a particular way of service within the Church, there is no doubt that he leaves the entire decision free for us to pursue as we will. The continual aim of prayer and discernment is to pursue the vocation God is calling us toward, not because it is harder or impossible, but because we begin to realize there is a level of peace in it which is inexplicable in human terms and which has been put into our hearts by our Creator from before our birth. We are all created to serve God in a particular manner, and it is our goal to freely choose that vocation through ceaseless prayer and loving pursuit of God's will.

No doubt I will continue to write this blog, and perhaps with greater frequency than before. Seeking the Truth of the Catholic faith is a vocation to which we are all called. I hope that this blog can be a source of fruitful meditation and discussion for as long as I am able to write. Please continue to pray for me and know that I am praying for those of you who read this!

Eminent Mission for Chinese Catholics

2008-06-10T06:35:00.002-04:00

After talking with a Chinese-American seminarian at breakfast the other day, I realized that one aspect of the faith most Americans don’t hear enough about is Catholic Church in China’s struggle for autonomy. Although being in Rome has heightened my senses to this phenomenon, the fact is that China’s Communist government every day is suppressing millions of Catholics, and that the authentic Catholic Church in China continually fights for independence from the state-run ‘Church,’ backed by Beijing. Pope Benedict XVI has taken considerable steps this year in working on behalf of his oriental flock, most notably releasing a Letter to Chinese Catholics in May of 2007. In the letter, the pope speaks of his compassion for those Catholics suffering at the hands of the government, and assures them that their struggles do not go without notice. He also vows his pastoral care and imparts his fatherly wisdom to the suffering community:

I wish, therefore, to convey to all of you the expression of my fraternal closeness. With intense joy I acknowledge your faithfulness to Christ the Lord and to the Church, a faithfulness that you have manifested “sometimes at the price of grave sufferings,” since “it has been granted to you that for the sake of Christ you should not only believe in him but also suffer for his sake” (Phil 1:29). Nevertheless, some important aspects of the ecclesial life of your country give cause for concern. Without claiming to deal with every detail of the complex matters well known to you, I wish through this letter to offer some guidelines concerning the life of the Church and the task of evangelization in China, in order to help you discover what the Lord and Master, Jesus Christ, “the key, the centre and the purpose of the whole of human history” wants from you.

And what is it that Christ wants of his Church? Be it in China or elsewhere—America included—the mission of the Church “is to proclaim Christ to men and women, as the Savior of the world, basing herself—in carrying out her proper apostolate—on the power of God.” (Letter, 4) Specifically notable of the case of the Church in China is the issue of atheism, which no doubt permeates modern thought, society and culture, and is the fundamental obstacle of the Catholic Church (in my opinion) in the twenty-first century. This apostolate to preach Christ as Savior, relying “on the power of God,” speaks strongly of the effects of atheistic thought. The ‘power of God’ has been all but forgotten, and the power of governments and man has been assumed as the summum bonum toward which we ought to strive. In short, modern atheism (as I have written about before) is not so much an absence of the divine as most would believe, but rather an imposition of something finite and base into the realm of divinity. For Feuerbach, it was man’s absolute qualities; for Comte, it was ‘Humanity’; for Marxists and the Chinese government, it is the will of the state.

Struggling against the god of Communist ideology, the Church in China is in a perfect place to show the rest of the world just what it means to truly be Catholic. Not only is the Enemy utilizing the Beijing government itself to suppress authentic Catholicism, but also the officially sanctioned ‘Catholic Church’ of China, whose doctrines and clergy are both subjugated to the authority of the state. In addition, the authentic Church is battling the centuries-old mentality of the East, which has always been highly critical of all western influence, and in particular western religious and moral views. Catholic martyrs in China—particularly Jesuit and other religious missionaries—give evidence to the gravity of this situation. Nowadays, the martyrs are much less known, but without doubt there are still great amounts of blood being shed for the faith each day. As Tertullian writes, “the blood of martyrs is the seed of Christians,” and the fruit to be borne from such suffering and struggle will certainly show forth the glory and Providence of God, just as the blood of the old martyrs has given abundant life in the countries where they preached.

We ought not to lose focus on the goal of the Christian mission: to teach Jesus Christ as Savior of all men and women, and to rely in all things on the power of God. This charge of Pope Benedict is particularly relevant in today’s relativistic and consumeristic world, and no doubt will be the labor of the Church until Christ comes again to reclaim all things for himself.

Healthcare & Natural Law

2008-06-08T05:52:00.004-04:00

The recent case of an Oregon woman whose cancer medication fell outside the bounds of her healthcare coverage shocked me a little. I suppose its only to be expected that insurance would not cover something altogether necessary for healthy survival, that's just the way things often work. But to hear that the same coverage would pay for "palliative care," including assisted suicide, caused me to question just what precisely is meant by the term "healthcare" anyway.

If there is one thing I can do, it's find synonyms and verbal equivalents. I've had to take a battery of tests to prove my ability to do just such things, and was not able to apply for college until this skill was demonstrated outright. Thus, I am lead to believe that understanding the non-synonymous relationship of the words "health" and "death" is a rather facile project. In fact, the astute third-grader will tell you that these words could even be called "opposites" (or "antonyms" for those of us who've taken the SAT). As it seems, "health" and "death" have nothing to do with one another, other than that the failure of the former results in the actualization of the latter. The contradiction in terms alone should be enough to demonstrate how unfitting it is to place assisted suicide under the provision of a healthcare plan. Maybe the ones in charge of this particular plan didn't have to take college entrance exams. That seems like the only logical conclusion. Either that or they cheated.

But at any rate, and even if they did cheat, there is another level of truth that is far more fundamental than opposition in terms that needs to be considered. That truth is called "natural law," and has always been the constant guide of the Church in matters of morality. Saint Thomas Aquinas says that natural law is "nothing else than the rational creature's participation in the eternal law." In other words, it is man's natural involvement in the divine Wisdom that created and rules all existence. By virtue of his own existence, the human person is subject to the laws of all existence, which for the Christian (and I dare say any theist) are the laws of God. Moreover, they are not the laws of God as promulgated in the Ten Commandments or other revelation, but rather the underlying law of God written on the human heart from its very conception. Natural law is just that: "natural."

The case of healthcare providing coverage for assisted suicide is a stark contrast to the natural law. Almost anyone would agree that killing innocent human life is a moral evil. Even the most radical murderers view their killings as in some way vindictive toward a supposed evil present in the their victims, or else the achievement of a higher good through the death of innocent life. Assisted suicide falls under this final category; those murdering innocent persons believe they are accomplishing a higher good for them in the end. This, however, is not natural law. Natural law seeks the good of the person in the natural order, i.e. the preservation of life. Assisted suicide presupposes a sort of divine act on the part of the killer, wherein they feel it is their responsibility to supercede the natural order and take all life into their own hands. In short, they assume the role of God, and essentially deem it appropriate to judge between life and death. Assisted suicide, as it completely opposes the possibility of "health," might rather been seen as a "mercy killing." The problem here is that all mercy, if it is authentic, is dispatched from the throne of the Almighty. Nowhere does God condone such action. In no way can 'mercy' be achieved through murder. It is another fundamental contradiction in terms, and one that ought to be taken into account when "healthcare" providers hire new executives. Just look at their SAT scores.

Exams

2008-06-06T08:12:00.002-04:00

And the race is on yet again. Another rousing exam-period at the Pontifical Gregorian University, and another two-week-semester at the North American College. For those who presume my virtuosity in study, let it be known that the "two-week-semester" is not a reference to upped prayer intensity, but rather the initialization of exam cramming. All that I should have learned in a semester, I will now learn in two weeks...

Perhaps that's a bit of hyperbole, but not by much. Unfortunately, students are students, and seminarians are students too. So, pray for me that I might study well and ultimately offer it all up for the glory of God. On the plus side, this semester's classes have been some of the best I can remember: Trinity, Christology, Patristics, etc. All things that are fundamental to knowing and loving the Lord, all in one semester! I suppose studying for these classes is just as much a prayer as anything else, and I've been able to see that more and more as time goes on.

At any rate, pray for me and keep checking back for updates. When exams finish, I hope to blog much more frequently. I know it's been an oft-repeated theme but, "stay tuned!"

Sacramental Aesthetic: Part III

2008-05-31T02:47:00.001-04:00

III. Knowing in the Sacraments

To understand how knowing occurs in the Catholic sacraments, one must first realize the basic and essential composition of a sacrament. Surely, however, a broad venture into sacramental theology here would over-shoot our aims and would call to mind many factors that have nothing to do with our primary investigation. For us, then, it is important to clarify only a few items, thus ensuring that we not overstep the orthodox bounds of what does, in fact, constitute a sacrament in the Catholic sense.

A satisfactory articulation of the Church’s position regarding the essential composition and function of the sacraments can be found in Thomas Aquinas’ discussion of the topic in the Summa Theologiae. Taking into account the Aristotelian rationale that man naturally tends toward knowledge and understanding, Thomas writes thatit is part of man’s nature to acquire knowledge of the intelligible from the sensible…Consequently, since the sacred things which are signified by the sacraments, are the spiritual and intelligible goods by means of which man is sanctified, it follows that the sacramental signs consist in sensible things…And hence it is that sensible things are required for the sacraments. This necessarily sensible and experiential character of the sacraments accordingly presumes that we might treat them as instances of meaningful and aesthetic encounter, as discussed above. Moreover, in the sacraments we find as well the transmission of an objective truth by means of subjective fact—the Person of Christ, who is Truth, positively transmits himself to his Church by way of an efficacious sign—again permitting us to treat the sacraments as meaningful and aesthetic experiences.

In addition to being simply signs of an intelligible reality, though, we must assert strongly that the Catholic sacraments are also avenues of grace, which function in a manner beyond simple ‘significance.’ For Thomas, the sacraments can be seen as fonts of grace in two ways: “First, as in its sign; for a sacrament is a sign of grace. Secondly, as in its cause; for…a sacrament…is an instrumental [efficient] cause of grace.” Here, it seems the diffusion of grace to the faithful completes what is begun in the diffusion of truth via the ‘meaningful experience.’ Both halves of the sacramental whole, as it were, function concurrently and necessarily in order to bring about the fullness of divine auto-communication proper to each sacrament in particular. One sacramental function cannot exist without the other.

If all this is true, what can we say then about the aesthetic quality of the sacramental experience? More precisely, how can we articulate the mode and manner of knowing, which must occur as part of an authentic experience of the sacraments? Initially, and certainly on the most fundamental level, it seems that we should treat the issue from the standpoint of Christ’s self-revelation, and with regard to his identity as “Truth” and “Logos.” Since that objective truth conveyed in the sacraments is not one subjugated to a higher truth, but is rather itself the ultimate Truth (existing in the divine person of Jesus Christ), the meaningful character of sacramental knowledge assumes an entirely unprecedented gravity vis-à-vis all other meaningful and aesthetic experiences in human reality. In fact, the involvement of the person of Christ, who is the truth conveyed as well as the possessor of divine life—a participation in which is conveyed as grace—raises sacramental meaning to an entirely new level of superiority. Nevertheless, despite this unique conveyance of absolute Truth on the part of the divine, the sacraments cannot be seen as conforming to the second (mis)understanding of “aesthetic” discussed above—i.e. one wherein the truth conveyed is meaningful and beautiful even prior to its being experienced by the human subject. While it must be admitted that God in se is both Truth and Beauty—even prior to his being experienced by the external subject—those properties are, by their very qualification, transcendental properties, and are not to be classified in the same manner as the reality of truth or beauty being conveyed through the sacraments. Thus, while God himself does possess an a priori meaningfulness, that reality is not the one encountered in sacramental experience. Rather, it is the self-gift of God to man which is understood in the sacraments, and to that phenomenon we can rightly apply all the criteria of our solid and most accurate definition of “aesthetic” as something neither completely subjective nor objective.

In fact, the means of sacramental knowing seems to exemplify perfectly the synthetic and proper understanding of “aesthetic,” and its ultimate application in the ‘aesthetic experience.’ Nowhere else, it seems, does such a pure form of the aesthetic encounter become manifest as in the sacraments of the Church. There is certainly a precondition for this transmission of knowledge, however, that has not yet been explicitly mentioned: that condition is that the one encountering the Lord in the sacraments must first believe that the God he is encountering is real, and that such a God has the power to efficaciously act within the human world of time and space, namely by way of the Incarnation. Moreover—and really as part in parcel of such a faith—the sacramental participant must be in communion with the Body of Christ in the Catholic Church; otherwise, true knowledge of the Jesus Christ who is found in the Church cannot be the object of such a sacramental encounter. Thereby, sacramental participation loses its genuine meaning from the subjective viewpoint, and its fullness of beauty in the more objective, cooperative sense. Coming to know God sacramentally is only possible if it is the exercise of an authentic fides quaerens intellectum; it is both the ultimate intellectum of the mind and essentificatio of the heart in coming to understand and realize the presence, power and love of the Almighty God for his human creation.

IV. Conclusion

“I shall know the fullness of joy when I see your face, O Lord.” These words from the responsorial of the Divine Office come to be understood most beautifully in the sacramental ministry of the Catholic Church. Although the Christian must always keep as his aim the beatific vision of God in heaven, and therefore a knowing that surpasses all experiential and earthly human knowing, he must nevertheless be willing to realize that such knowledge is indeed prefigured to a great degree through faithful participation in the sacraments. The primary vehicle for this active knowledge of the divine life is the aesthetic value inherent in the sacraments, when properly received; this ‘aesthetic’ reality is also a meaningful one, as we have seen, insofar as absolute truth is being conveyed to the finite subject by way of a factual yet ever-mysterious means. The coexistence of both fact and meaning is precisely the context for true beauty, which is neither completely objective nor subjective, but rather depends on the confluence of both in order to be fully manifested. As the image of God the Father, Jesus Christ, who himself is Truth, Beauty and Logos, appears most substantially to us in the sacraments of his Church; it is by means of the Church that he has chosen to be made present to the world, and by way of the Church that he desires to be actively known in his sacramental presence. Thus, we can see that the Catholic sacraments convey a real and sure knowledge of God that is unparalleled anywhere else in the world of human experience.

Sacramental Aesthetic: Part II

2008-05-28T09:41:00.002-04:00

II. ‘Meaningful Experience’ in the Real World

i. ‘Meaningful Experience’ as ‘Aesthetic Experience’

For the human person, it seems that ‘meaningful experience’ can accurately be associated with ‘aesthetic experience.’ In fact, it seems not only that the two can be associated but that they can perhaps also be equated in many ways, so that the meaningful experience of man always in some way manifests a sort of aesthetic character. To make such an allegation one must first, however, be intensely aware that the definition of the word, “aesthetic,” has been shown to elude philosophers’ grasp for centuries. Rather than assume a pre-established definition of “aesthetic” here, it would serve us well to examine the issue in some depth, coming to an autonomous yet plausible realization of aesthetic experience as it relates to the meaningful.

First, let us begin with the elemental definition of “aesthetic” as being concerned with the beautiful; this assertion is a safe one (inasmuch as we can see, and with the intention of avoiding a protracted and meticulous discourse on the topic), and provides a necessary platform upon which to erect a subsequent conception of the word. If this holds, that authentic aesthetic experience is therefore essentially an experience of the beautiful—or perhaps more plainly, an experience in some way concerned with the beautiful—then we have already completed a considerable portion of our work; we have identified that insofar as man is interested in the beautiful, he is interested and involved in aesthetic experience. Thus, we have ascertained a definition of “aesthetic” that is strongly correlative with our understanding of ‘meaning,’ insofar as meaning is concerned with the beautiful, itself a viable expression of the truth. What is left is to distinguish the degree to which meaningful and aesthetic experiences find equivalence in human understanding. In other words, we must come to know if meaning per se (i.e. the subjective fact which conveys truth) can be transmitted by way of beauty, for only if this reality holds can we justly equate ‘meaningful’ with ‘aesthetic.’

ii. Three Forms of Aesthetic Experience

Here, it will be helpful to examine three types of aesthetic experience that occur in human world-interaction. Each of the three forms communicates a different level of beauty and truth, and each is bound to a respective matrix of functionality, within which it must be seen and interpreted for fear of mistakenly generalizing ‘aesthetic experience’ as being something universal and mathematically quantifiable.

The first application of the word, “aesthetic,” to which we will pay attention has already been assumed in our discussion to be a misappropriation of the term, but nevertheless it must be included as a popular and oft-exercised understanding thereof. This basic and colloquial perception of an aesthetic experience as something completely subjective—that is to say, as an experience whose complete and total value arises as a result of the application of value on the part of the experiencing subject—vastly overlooks the profound depth of meaning present in any experience of the beautiful. In this proposed type of aesthetic encounter, the object of experience itself is attributed its ‘aesthetic’ or ‘meaningful’ quality not by virtue of the character of the experience (i.e. a transmission of truth in a manner conditioned by human perception), but rather by the acting subject, who himself deems independently to ascribe to the encounter some level of value. Here, there is a circumvention of the experience itself, which is replaced instead by an exaltation of the knower and the known; as such, a void remains where the nexus of the experience should have been, and we are left with an encounter that in itself retains no worth, not even on the ontological level. Bankrupt of significance, this application of the term, “aesthetic,” is quite obviously unconcerned with the relationship we first established between fact and meaning, and might therefore be considered inconsequential in further considerations.

A second conceivable application of the term in question is located at precisely the opposite end of the spectrum as the first; that is, in an ‘aesthetic experience’ ontologically constituted as such and totally uninterested in the existential aspect of the human experience. In other words, in this instance the object of the experience—the ‘aesthetic object’—is not attributed the substantially augmenting characteristic of aesthetic value, but rather possesses it, as it were, as part of its own composition. In such a conjecture, the import of the human experience is utterly irrelevant; no subjective encounter with such an object could alter or add in any way to the pre-existent value inherent therein. However, taking into account our earlier reflection on ‘fact’ and ‘meaning,’ we realize that the transmission of truth is never a completely a priori reality, and must inevitably occur within the framework of human experience. As with the first example, the point of convergence for fundamental truth and subjective interpretation in this model is bereft of significance. Whereas in the previous example absolute subjectivism precluded further serious reflection, here a sort of metaphysical absolutism—one which may rightly be called realism, but in the most extreme sense—presents an entirely new yet equally debilitating obstacle.

A third probable function of the term, “aesthetic,” seems to articulate best what most likely occurs in an ‘aesthetic experience’ as it has been constructed here. While the two abovementioned investigations have uncovered either a markedly subjective or exceedingly objective template for aesthetic experience, it should be clear to see that a more reasonable solution lies somewhere in between. Calling to mind what should therefore already be obvious, in this last understanding the phenomenon we mean something where the experiential nexus itself is finally found to possess value in and of itself; i.e. the value of the aesthetic experience is no longer imposed by the objective or subjective element of the event, but rather is formed upon the convergence of the two in the experience per se. Here, the aesthetic object is not such before being experienced, but instead is ascribed (rightly, it would seem) the substantial attribute of ‘aesthetic’ only once it is encountered by the subject. Similarly, the subject does not compel this value upon the object by any power of its own but, on the contrary, permits the object to be augmented in meaning by submitting it to active experience. Therefore, the objective and subjective elements of the experience work reciprocally to provide one another with value. What is more, this third treatment of the ‘aesthetic experience’ also provides a most reasonable account for the aim of all such experiences: the transfer of fundamental truth by way of the subjective fact (i.e. in a manner conditioned by human experience). In the end, this understanding provides evidence in answer to our primary inquiry in this section—namely whether or not the ‘meaningful’ and the ‘aesthetic’ can be somehow equated—since such a model of ‘aesthetic experience’ appears to rely heavily upon ‘meaning’ for final recognition of its basic yet communicable truth.

Thus, it seems we can once again step forward with confidence, this time into the final consideration of our topic and the one toward which we have been aiming all along: the fundamental relationship of the ‘aesthetic experience’ and the reality of knowing in the sacraments of the Catholic Church.

Sacramental Aesthetic: Part I

2008-05-25T23:54:00.004-04:00

Below is the beginning to a 3-part-post of an article I intend to submit for publication. The title is, Sacramental Aesthetic: The Reality of Knowing in the Catholic Sacraments. I will be curious to hear what you all have to say on the matter...
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Introduction

For Catholics, the ultimate goal of all human life is knowledge and love of God. Man was created in God’s image and likeness so that he might come to see him as he is. Accordingly, all human effort tends toward this telos—the natural end of man, which finally capitulates unto his supernatural and heavenly end in the beatific vision. Realizing man’s need for aide in such a monumental task, however, the Father offers his children, as a window into that blissful vision, a chance to penetrate the supernal mystery of God via the person of Jesus Christ, and in particular through the sacraments he entrusted to his Church. These same sacraments have endured until today—fonts of grace and knowledge for the believer—and serve man in his earthly quest for Truth and Love.

A reflection that must be considered then, in light of this basic apprehension of the economy of salvation, is how exactly man comes to know God in the sacraments of the Church. Certainly, the sacraments cannot be wholly personal and subjectively valuable realities, since their essence consists in the transmission of divine reality into the world of human existence. The sacraments must necessarily provide an objective and incontestable knowledge of God whose image man, as a consequence of his created nature, is capable of understanding and recognizing to some notable degree. Their value cannot simply consist in assigned properties of significance, but must be clearly and fundamentally objective, even if there does remain a great element of subjective participation in that truth on the part of the faithful.

For such an investigation as this to occur—namely, one seeking to identify the essence and locus of sacramental truth and its transmission—one must ask preliminary questions of an eminently epistemological nature; particularly, the question of factual knowledge versus subjective and ‘meaningful’ knowledge must be raised. Having been discussed, this groundwork will provide a more precise basis for recognizing ‘value’ in the sacraments, and thereupon an entire philosophy of sacramental knowing might find its footing.

I. ‘Fact’ & ‘Meaning’ in Human Knowing

In human knowing, there seems to exist a reciprocal dependence between facts and meanings. By ‘fact’ here we mean those things, which express truth in an incontrovertible fashion; facts are concrete and thus possess a definite and realistic value, upon which judgment may rightly and rationally be based. In short our lives as human beings, always seeking to know, as Aristotle indicates, seem properly aimed at the acquisition and utilization of facts in making logical choices. However, if one takes daily life as an indication, it seems a matter of fact that the human person is not concerned with facts alone. What drives the human soul to know things if it is not solely the objective facts? How often do we make decisions informed not by an unquestionably impartial reality, but rather on a personally interpreted and more proximate version of truth? The human soul is impacted by nearly countless phenomena each minute, and it is probably true that most of these instances are of a non-objectively factual nature. In this way we find ourselves often concerned with ‘meanings’—those truths conveyed in our experience of reality, both in objectively factual and subjectively factual situations, and which find existential quarter only within the human person. In the end, although a fact-like knowledge of things alone seems suited for the task (from the rigidly Aristotelian perspective), meaning prevails as the object of man’s truest desire, and becomes what enables him to function properly and competently within society. To think of a world where humans do not endeavor to see facts as pregnant with meaning would be to imagine a world where the realistic human telos would seemingly be abandoned. On the other hand, the subjective facts we encounter—i.e. meaningful objects, with which we will primarily be concerned here—are ultimately grounded in the reality of an absolute and indispensable fact, which lies beyond them. What pragmatic significance can there be in the purely meaningful? Can it even exist? In a word, can the ‘meaningful’ itself provide the human soul with a basis for concrete understanding?

A preliminary consideration takes us back to the initial definition of “fact”: do meaningful objects possess a ‘realistic value,’ or is this character reserved to objective facts alone? At first glance, strictly meaningful experiences seem not to possess the same realism as that of the objective fact; they are, after all, only meaningful since they have been tempered and distilled by human understanding, leaving them in some manner devoid of the purity present in empirical, demonstrable facts. However, since the nature of man’s existence and capacity to reason is truly ‘realistic,’ we are bound to admit that meaning, as a sort of human by-product, is also full of this same realistic value. Such realism cannot be understood as being the same as that proper to objective facts, though, which may rightly be attributed a more a priori position. Rather, the meaningful object attains its meaning precisely as a result of man’s interaction with the world, and in light of his personal history and past experience. In other words, the meaningful object is not ontologically constituted as such, but instead acquires this sort of ‘substantial attribute’ only after human consideration.

Although succinct and hardly exhaustive of all tangential possibilities, this crucial exposition of meaningful experience as it relates to strictly and demonstrably factual experience gives rise to a final effect that seems not to be one of dichotomy, opposing one type of experience against the other, but rather of cohesion, wherein the two are intimately linked and by which ultimate and objective truth might eventually be understood. If this is indeed so—and chiefly, if this reasoning should later be applied in terms of the sacramental knowing—then we must ask a further question of meaningful experience that will enable us to see rightly where the sacraments truly fit into the complete epistemological schema. Namely, our question must consider two items: to what degree is the fundamental and objective truth knowable in the meaningful object, and in what worldly instances do we actually recognize these objects of meaning. While the second query will constitute an entire section in itself (one which includes a proper investigation of each subsequent, perceivable instance) and form the crux of this essay, the question concerning the degree of man’s knowledge as a result of meaningful objects can be suitably answered here.

Again, even if the scope of this matter far exceeds what is treatable at present, we might at least say enough to enable an authentic study of the reality of knowing in the sacraments. To be sure, we must begin by stating that objective and fundamental truth is positively present in the meaningful object insofar as the latter exists, and therefore exists in truth and objective reality. In other words, the mere existence of an object demands its sure participation in the fullness of truth and in the fullness of objectivity, ontologically speaking. Thus, there is inevitably an internal connection linking the deeper, more primary truth which man seeks and the proximate truth of the object of his understanding, i.e. the ‘meaningful object.’ At this point, there is a temptation to separate the two truths—one objective and the other subjective—as they are present in each object independently. It is important to note, however, that we cannot separate truth, even though we can separate the degree to which it appears as ‘fact’ (viz. objective fact and subjective fact); “fact” and “truth” are not equivalent terms. Therefore, while the factual nuance of a ‘meaningful experience’ may be less unequivocal than that of the objective experience, the truth encountered is one in the same. It should not go without saying, though, that the degree of truth apprehended by the human subject may be considerably less in this context than in a purely objective-factual situation; in the order of knowing, the prevalence of a more doctrinal assimilation of truth must be upheld.

To find the exact and numerical degree of truth present in the subjective and meaningful experience, then, appears not only impractical at this point, but also quite unnecessary; for our purpose, it suffices to say simply that there is a definitive participation in ultimate truth within the meaningful experience precisely because its object is true and real. Consequently, we are now able to permit ourselves a further investigation upon the second part of our above inquiry, namely as to what real-world experiences constitute ‘meaningful experiences.’

Hiatuses

2008-05-22T06:40:00.002-04:00

Never having thought I'd use that word in the plural...ever...it seems to fit here due to the large number of commitments that have been coming my way, and the subsequent breaks in writing that have occurred. My only petition: stay with me. I assure you more fruitful and regular posting in the (hopefully immediate) future. But again, for now, be prepared for the sporadic blogging that comes along with visitors, studying and exams. Thanks!

"Greek Wisdom" in Service to Faith

2008-05-16T02:44:00.004-04:00

At this week’s Wednesday Audience, Pope Benedict took the opportunity to talk about a “mysterious figure” in the history of Catholic thought, Pseudo-Dionysius. The real man-behind-the-name is a hotly contested topic in intellectual circles, but the pope sided with the opinion that Pseudo-Dionysius was in fact “a theologian of the sixth century, whose name is not really known, and who wrote under the name of Dionysius the Areopagite,” an early disciple of St. Paul. Pseudo-Dionysius, in addition to being the most often referenced thinker in St. Thomas Aquinas’ Summa Theologiae (a hefty feat in and of itself), is also author to some of the most fundamental works in early Catholic philosophic and theological thought: The Divine Names is probably his most notable work, and details the application of Neo-Platonic ‘emanation’ within the realm of early Trinitarian theology.

It is precisely in this Hellenic conception of God for Pseudo-Dionysius that Pope Benedict XVI finds such great value. “If the author of these books,” he said, “chose five centuries afterward the pseudonym of Dionysius the Areopagite, it says that his intention was to put the wisdom of the Greeks into the service of the Gospel, and to aid in the encounter between Greek culture and understanding and the Christian message.” This certainly outlines Benedict’s entire theological approach—putting secular reason and science at the service of the Gospel—and serves as a basis for the development of such unification in the Church throughout the years. Undoubtedly, the confluence of the two schools of thought, both Greek and Christian, was not always seen as tenable. Tertullian, the prominent Latin writer of the second century after Christ, is credited with the ever-famous question, “What has Athens to do with Jerusalem?” That is to say, “What does reason have to do with faith?”

Fortunately for us, an articulate synthesis of the answer to such a question can be found almost two thousand years later in the work of our current Holy Father, and also in the work of his predecessor, Pope John Paul II. The late pope’s encyclical letter, Fides et Ratio, discusses this very topic in great detail and provides the core for most contemporary discussion of it within the Church. Pope Benedict’s synthesis on Wednesday of what it means to hold together the two tenets of theological faith and human reason was equally beautiful, yet a bit more constricted to the realm of Platonic philosophy and its relation to Jesus Christ. The Holy Father put the whole project in terms of “negative theology,” a classic means of keeping the tension between the absolutely sure and the absolutely unsure. “The face of God is our incapacity to really express who he is,” said the pope. “It is, so to say…a ‘negative theology.’ We can more easily say what God is not than express what he truly is. Only by way of these images [which we attain through our interaction with the world] can we gauge his true face; yet on the other hand his face is very concrete: he is Jesus Christ.”

Keeping the productive tension between faith and reason is precisely the task at hand for budding Catholic intellectuals. If we hope to provide a credible witness to our faith—one that is not simply ‘fideist’ (i.e. non-rational) nor completely intellectualist—we must always strive to maintain the interdependence of both faith and reason with one another. In the Letter of St. Peter, the author writes that the Christian should “always be ready to give an explanation to anyone who asks you for a reason for your hope.” (1 Pt 3:15) How this is! And how well is it manifested in the teaching and ministry of Pope Benedict XVI? Surely, we have as our earthly Vicar of Christ a great teacher and student of the Catholic Tradition, and it would do us well to pay attention to his insights and to stress in our own lives the truths he so beautifully articulates.

Justin Martyr & Rational Religion

2008-05-12T03:44:00.003-04:00

In my reading today, I came across a great exposition of the Catholic faith by the second century apologist, St. Justin Martyr. Certainly, understanding the Church Fathers is one of the most important ways we have of understanding authentic Catholic doctrine and how it has developed. The topic I note here, 'faith and reason,' is no exception. Among other topics, Justin writes in one of his letters to the Roman emperor about the nature of the Christian religion, which was still enduring heavy persecution. Perhaps not surprisingly, the persecution of the faith nearly two millennia ago does not differ so much from the opposition to the faith posed by society today. In both cases, cultural mindsets of emotionalism and licentiousness present a grave obstacle to the truth of a belief in Jesus Christ. However, much like Pope Benedict XVI is working to accomplish in the twenty-first century, St. Justin Martyr sought in his works to appeal to the deeper, rational nature of the human person. The excerpt below, from the First Apology of Justin Martyr, shows precisely that; namely, how it is that Christians worship God by virtue of their properly rational capacity:

But we have received by tradition that God does not need the material offerings which men can give, seeing, indeed, that He Himself is the provider of all things. And we have been taught, and are convinced, and do believe, that He accepts those only who imitate the excellencies which reside in Him, temperance, and justice, and philanthropy, and as many virtues as are peculiar to a God who is called by no proper name. And we have been taught that He in the beginning did of His goodness, for man's sake, create all things out of unformed matter; and if men by their works show themselves worthy of this His design, they are deemed worthy, and so we have received of reigning in company with Him, being delivered from corruption and suffering. For as in the beginning He created us when we were not, so do we consider that, in like manner, those who choose what is pleasing to Him are, on account of their choice, deemed worthy of incorruption and of fellowship with Him. For the coming into being at first was not in our own power; and in order that we may follow those things which please Him, choosing them by means of the rational faculties He has Himself endowed us with, He both persuades us and leads us to faith. And we think it for the advantage of all men that they are not restrained from learning these things, but are even urged thereto. For the restraint which human laws could not effect, the Word, inasmuch as He is divine, would have effected, had not the wicked demons, taking as their ally the lust of wickedness which is in every man, and which draws variously to all manner of vice, scattered many false and profane accusations, none of which attach to us…

What sober-minded man, then, will not acknowledge that we are not atheists, worshipping as we do the Maker of this universe, and declaring, as we have been taught, that He has no need of streams of blood and libations and incense; whom we praise to the utmost of our power by the exercise of prayer and thanksgiving for all things wherewith we are supplied, as we have been taught that the only honour that is worthy of Him is not to consume by fire what He has brought into being for our sustenance, but to use it for ourselves and those who need, and with gratitude to Him to offer thanks by invocations and hymns for our creation, and for all the means of health, and for the various qualities of the different kinds of things, and for the changes of the seasons; and to present before Him petitions for our existing again in incorruption through faith in Him. Our teacher of these things is Jesus Christ, who also was born for this purpose, and was crucified under Pontius Pilate, procurator of Judaea, in the times of Tiberius Caesar; and that we reasonably worship Him, having learned that He is the Son of the true God Himself, and holding Him in the second place, and the prophetic Spirit in the third, we will prove. For they proclaim our madness to consist in this, that we give to a crucified man a place second to the unchangeable and eternal God, the Creator of all; for they do not discern the mystery that is herein, to which, as we make it plain to you, we pray you to give heed.

'Personhood' & Divine Love

2008-05-09T02:57:00.003-04:00

The question of what ‘defines’ the human person is certainly not a settled issue. At least not from a philosophical vantage point. For the more empirical thinkers, sustained consciousness of self is enough to denote personhood. For Kant, the “transcendental unity of apperception” is the “I” with which each person associates. In modern pop-culture, “mistakes are the only things which we can truly call our own,” and thus inevitably become the measure by which we can rightly be called human persons. All together, it seems that the history of what it means to be a ‘somebody’ is defined completely from the subjective, singular vantage point: we are what we do.

Unfortunately, ‘we are what we do’ turns out to mean that our very existence is equivalent to our essence (i.e intrinsic nature). In other words, the manner by which we function defines the fact that we exist as human beings. This is certainly the underpinning of modern existentialist thought, and a pervasive mentality throughout the world. Fortunately, it cannot be true…

God alone, being perfect and completely self-sufficient, can have for his existence his very essence: who he is and how he ‘works’ are one in the same; they are quite inseparable, except in idea. For us humans, however, to claim that our activity defines our being is to in actuality claim a sort of divinity; it is to presume that we are capable of defining ourselves and sustaining ourselves based completely on our own activity. This is evidently non-Christian and, to be sure, non-theist. One cannot believe in an all-powerful God and posit the self-definition of the human person. They are mutually exclusive and contradictory statements. In the end, if we were in fact defined in our being by our (sinful) actions, the possibility of salvation would not be for us, since we would be incapacitated from freely responding to the generous gift of Christ on the Cross; we would be hard-wired to turn against his gift of self and would perpetually refuse his merciful love. To be self-determining is to be self-effacing.

On the contrary, when we realize the truth of what it means to be a ‘human person’ in the Catholic mindset, salvation becomes not inaccessible but rather most palpable. The human person, in this view, is defined not by personal action but by the love of God, through which it remains in existence and apart from which it cannot exist or function. Instead of viewing personal action—sinful or loving—as the defining characteristic of the self, the Christian definition of person allows for a free ascent to the redemption offered by Christ through the knowledge that we are loved, and that such profound and divine love alone facilitates our being. Even our own acts of love cannot be separated from the divine Love, which created us and sustains us. In all things, we are inseparably related to and dependent upon the Holy Trinity. Keeping this reality in mind, the power of the Paschal Mystery becomes all the more evident for us, and the salvation offered through Jesus Christ attains a realism that is otherwise hidden and undesired.

Synthesis and Truth

2008-05-05T08:48:00.003-04:00

Despite all the consequential drawbacks of his philosophy, the German thinker, Georg W. F. Hegel, leaves us one very fundamental and useful approach to ‘truth.’ For Hegel, all activity participates in the perpetual cosmic cycle of “thesis,” “antithesis” and “synthesis.” In short, one reality emerges first; he calls this the thesis. Then, an opposite reality arises to counter a balance against the already existing thesis; this he names the antithesis. In the tension between these two polar opposites, a final consequence materializes from the midst of the struggle: the synthesis. This synthesis then, standing alone as the sole product of the whole operation, will assume the role of ‘thesis,’ and the whole process begins anew: thesis, antithesis, synthesis.

Although that is an overly simplistic view of Hegel’s truly groundbreaking philosophy, it is enough to at least prompt some basic questions. While I’m not lobbying for a neo-Hegelian upswing in contemporary philosophy, perhaps considering this proposed lifecycle of truth and reality, so to speak, would be helpful in our own perception of truth, and particularly of the Truth of Jesus Christ present in the world around us. If the purpose of philosophy is to aid us in understanding reality, then surely utilizing such critical reasoning in seeking to understand the fullness of reality present in the divine Logos—the Son of God—is well within the scope of dutiful Christian activity. Oftentimes, it is all too easy for us to forget that the history of the Catholic faith is laden with just this sort of ‘thesis, antithesis and synthesis.’ Undoubtedly, the process will continue for as long as humans are unable to articulate perfectly the mysterious reality of a Triune God. However, we cannot fail to see the importance of such productive argumentation in the academic forum. After all, it is what has given us the faith we possess today.

One critical aspect of this dialectic, as it is called by Hegel, and with specific regard to the faith of the Church, is that the fundamental principle for all synthesis and understanding must be an appeal to the already accepted dogma of the Catholic Church, and an ascent to rightly informed reason. Without these two cornerstones, all dialectic will inevitably become flawed, and more focused on self-interest than on an interest in the objective and ultimate Truth we ought to desire. This being said, the freedom to thoughtfully and challengingly process the depths of our knowledge about life and God should be the primary focus of academic pursuits, for those serious about coming to understand the fullness of truth and reality as best as possible.

While we all encounter the fundamental “vocation to holiness” as the basis for our own lives, we ought to consider that calling in relation to our inherent human vocation to engage the world in which we live, and the thoughts and mentalities that compose it. If we look at our desire for truth as a dialectic of positions, ultimately resulting in the beautiful synthesis of Catholic Truth, we should not be afraid to venture into the deep—to duc in altum—and to mine the riches of the reality that surrounds us. This is precisely the importance of authentic academic freedom, and the forum to discuss such sensitive yet compelling topics in a manner oriented toward true growth and the pursuit of knowledge. So long as our quest is always guided by an ascent to the Truth as we know it and the Church professes, and we maintain the discipline to fully hear all possible considerations before making conclusions, our labor will prove fruitful and our lives and intellects will benefit greatly.

"No Vacation From A Vocation"

2008-05-04T08:06:00.003-04:00

Apologies again for the delay in posting. Like I mentioned last week, things are getting a little hectic here. Stay tuned for more, but expect infrequency for a bit.

In the meantime, something good to consider…

As the school year comes to an end for us students (sooner rather than later for those in the US—I’ve still got 2 months!), the prospect of summer looms ever closer. We can almost smell the upcoming bout of freedom. At first it smells sweet, like the springtime that ushers it in. But inevitably our freedom to be free will grow unbearable as the summer grows unbearably hot and—without a doubt—long. All that we had planned to do will go out the window in the end, and we’ll be back to school in the fall without much of a sense of achievement. Almost suddenly, it seems, our summer evaporates from us and all we are left with is a lessened vigor for studies and work come September. This might be a bit dramatic, I admit, but such sentiment is what usually defines my summers and I’m sure most can relate…

Two things become evident in such a reflection as this: first, the place of ‘freedom’ in our lives and its true and false implications; secondly, the import of the age-old maxim that “You can’t take a vacation from your vocation.”

Although one could talk about human freedom to no end, a critical point of what it means to be truly ‘free’ can be seen in the summer experience above. In the beginning, we equate freedom with being able to choose something (e.g. not studying, laying on the beach, drinking margaritas, etc.). Then, we suddenly find that through our free choices we have somehow become entangled in a web of laziness and inactivity which, although it was formerly serving the good of mental and physical refreshment for the coming year, is really keeping us from wanting to work at all. We go from being ‘free’ to being quite enslaved and somnolent. In the hope of attaining true freedom, we completely miss it.

The resolution to this simple mystery of summer-time planning—and surely life in general—comes when we consider the “no vacation from a vocation” idea. If our fundamental vocation in life is to holiness, which we recognize as the unchanging teaching of the Church and of its Head, Jesus Christ, then we can quickly affirm that anything making us fail in virtue or our acquisition thereof is not an appropriate means of relaxation and, therefore, will hinder us from being truly free. Certainly this means not doing things that are objectively evil just because we have the time. But it also means not doing things that are good and right in themselves to an excessive degree. This is all pretty commonsensical, I’m sure, but no matter how many times you hear it, how often do you just blow it off?

With a couple whole months of time to either grow or slacken in our primary vocation to holiness, it’s worth considering just how we will plan to avoid instances of laziness and to encounter opportunities for genuine Christian growth throughout the summer. Certainly, the Sacraments provide a sure foundation for any discipline; in them we encounter Christ himself, who is the divine Logos and Understanding of the Father. The summer is surely a time to deepen our appreciation of Christ’s role as the mediator of all truth and revelation, which will in turn deepen our resolve to learn and study well when school time does pick up again. If summer is meant to refresh our minds and bodies for the work of the Lord, then we ought not to forget the Lord in the midst of our relaxation.

Pentecost and the Human Person

2008-04-29T04:53:00.004-04:00

In anticipation of the feast of Pentecost, which will soon be upon us, something struck me in my reading that I thought would make for a good reflection. In his book, Christ Our Joy: The Theological Vision of Pope Benedict XVI, Msgr. Joseph Murphy submits a profound understanding of the role of the Holy Spirit in the lives of the Catholic faithful and in the mission of the Church; I am inclined to believe he is onto something here:

Rarely as in our time have people become so dramatically aware of how inaccessible others ultimately are and of how difficult it is to give oneself to another or understand the other in an enduring way.

Pentecost, says Ratzinger, is the response to this situation. The Spirit sheds light on the fundamental human question, “How can we reach one another?” More specifically, how is it possible to remain oneself and yet leave the prison of one’s solitude to encounter the other from within? The answer lies neither in a dissolution of self, after the manner of some of the Asiatic religions, nor in simple activism. Furthermore, the “I” and the “you” cannot be reconciled with each other if the “I” is not reconciled with itself.

The Christian answer is to be found in the Trinity, which is the highest unity. In the Trinity, the oppositeness of the “I” and the “you” is not taken away; instead, a mutual compenetration takes place in the Holy Spirit. (Murphy, pp. 153-4)

Really, this claim on the part of the author—and ultimately the Holy Father—is nothing more than a further articulation of the Catholic belief that man was created in the “image and likeness” of God. In other words, we were specifically designed to be Trinitarian in our relationship with others and with God himself. Just as God communicates himself to himself in the relation of divine persons (e.g. the Father to the Son and vice versa) without losing anything of himself in the process, the human person is hard-wired to do the same; that is, to realize the depth of ‘self’ in the auto-communication of that self to another (by acts of love).

This idea stands in stark contrast to modern philosophy’s notion of self-understanding, which consists in either the “dissolution” mentioned by Murphy as evidenced in eastern religions and Nietzschian nihilism, or the “simple activism” of the scientific positivist, who sees God as nothing more than the totality of material reality. Certainly in the history of his theological and philosophical pursuits, Pope Benedict has considered both of these extremes and weighed them in the balance of authentic and discernable truth. In the end, as the terms suggest, both extremes prove too extreme. For one convicted by a faith in God, who is Triune, a new reality emerges: “The relation of each divine person itself becomes the nature of that person.” In simpler terms, the very and complete giving of self, which defines each person of the Holy Trinity, also defines the human person who images the Trinity in his or her mode of existing. We are created for no other reason than to give ourselves completely to the other. The title of Msgr. Murphy’s book identifies well the result of such a self-donation: “Christ Our Joy.” In fact, true and lasting joy—as Benedict’s continuing theological work suggests—can only come from a deep and abiding relationship with Jesus Christ, joined to God the Father in the Holy Spirit.

Or Tuesday...

2008-04-29T02:58:00.004-04:00

Well, writing a post on the day of returning from Germany didn’t work out so well. Baden-Baden proved to be so relaxing that it seems to have taken all the motivation out of me. I have to say that of all the cities I’ve seen in Europe so far (which in all honesty hasn’t been as many as some may believe), this one certainly offered the most endearing and captivating atmosphere. Usually, little trips like this leave me more exhausted than refreshed—after the flying, driving, walking—but finally it seems I’ve found a cure to that unfortunate cycle. I would highly recommend Baden-Baden to anyone in the area who is looking for a get-away, and one that isn’t too expensive at that!

In other travel news, some upcoming visitors to Rome will be keeping me quite occupied, and thus will probably incapacitate my posting abilities for a little while. The first group—a pilgrimage from the Diocese of Toledo, led by a priest I know very well—will arrive at the beginning of next week and be here for a few days. Needless to say, I am looking forward to meeting quite a few young people from the university parish of St. Thomas More in Bowling Green, Ohio, who will be joining their pastor in making this trek to Rome, Assisi and Fatima. Right on their heels, the second group of visitors—my parents and sister—will be descending upon the Eternal City for a week’s vacation. Obviously, I’m pretty excited about this too since I haven’t seen them for about nine months. Hopefully, we will get to do some pretty cool things together; and, since neither my mother nor sister has ever left the United States, I’m pretty sure that anything Italian will be eye-opening enough to suffice!

In conclusion, thank you all for reading. I really do appreciate the comments and readership, and I hope that this blog is serving a good purpose in the call to holiness that we all encounter as part of our faith in God. Keep checking back in the next few weeks, and I’ll keep trying to stay on top of the game, but pardon my absences (if they occur). Hopefully the time with friends and family will provide some good meditations for future posting!