Tactics for Avoiding a Terrible Fact: "Human" vs "Person"

Last Friday, I briefly discussed Judith Jarvis Thompson's "Famous Violinist," an argument (or "tactic") used by advocates of abortion to avoid a terrible truth: that abortion is murder. You will recall that murder is defined as the deliberate taking of an innocent human's life. Today I want to briefly discuss another argument (or tactic) used by abortions proponents, which is to state that there is a distinction between a "human" and a "person." That is to say, their argument is that not all humans are in fact persons, and that, moreover, the definition of murder applies to a "person" and not a "human;" thus, if a woman faced an unplanned pregnancy, and particularly an unwanted pregnancy, she has every right to terminate it.

Before I begin the actual discussion, I want to take a moment to clarify and/or debunk few of the obvious equivocations which might be made here. First, the equivocation that a corpse is also a human, but not a person--and that the corpse as such has no rights of its own. Ok, but when referring to a corpse, we usually say that it is a dead "person," not a dead "human," so the analogy really backfires here. Moreover, a corpse is not equivalent to an unborn child, because the unborn child is alive, whereas the corpse is dead.

Second is the complaint that a piece of tissue is fully human, and yet not a person. This argument is flawed in much the same way as the corpse argument: the piece of tissue will not survive when isolated from the rest of the body, no matter what kind of life-support measures are undertaken. The unborn child is often viable without any kind of life support; even in the first trimester, the unborn child is a complete entity, not only with his own DNA, but also with the ability to survive and grow when separated from the mother (as IVF treatments have demonstrated). The child would quite probably be capable of growing entirely outside of his mother, if given the proper life-support.

Now, these two points for equivocation aside, the main issue at stake is, "what is the difference between a human and a person." The science-fiction nerd/philosopher in me would say, tongue-in-cheek, that humans are a sub-set of all beings who could be called "person." This is certainly true theologically, as God is a Person (Three, in fact), as are the angels and the demons. I might add that if there is intelligent life elsewhere in the universe, its members would also probably qualify as "people."

The argument concerning who is an who isn't a person is, in the end, a metaphysical one. It is based on reality, but on that part of reality which can't be accessed by science. Science can tell us basic fats--such as that an unborn child is biologically human and is in fact a separate human from his mother--but it is dumb as concerns metaphysics. The definitions for when a human "becomes" a person are fairly varied, and science might help determine when a specific criterion is met; it cannot prove the veracity of the claim that this is the defining moment of transition from merely "biologically human" to "human person."

There are several definitions of when a human might become a person, one of which is "at conception." Any contrary claim relies on some concept of "ensoulment," a controversy discussed by many of the greatest mind in Christendom--including Saints Thomas Aquinas and Augustine*. And while we can use science to develop technologies which can detect or otherwise measure brain waves, heart beats, emotions, and when the child feels pain/pleasure, science tells us nothing about whether or not a soul becomes present in the child during any of those times. In the words of John C. Wright

"Whenever the debate turns to abortion, it is the anti-abortionists who talk science, and the pro-abortionists who talk metaphysics....The anti-abortionist says a baby in the womb is human if it has the genetic characteristics of a human organism; the pro-abortionists say the baby is not human until after ensoulment--even though they use another word than ensoulment, they are nonetheless talking about an invisible metaphysical property that makes a human organism a human being in the legal and in the moral sense, an object to which human dignity and spiritual properties, such as moral worth, attach: A being with a soul.

Some moderate pro-aborts want to limit abortion onto to babies before they develop a nervous system. The pre-brain baby is not ensouled, in their [metaphysics], and the post-brain baby is ensouled. Of course, as secular materialists, they are unable to answer why a post-brain baby who [is] in the womb, and has no more capacity to reason than a churchmouse or a housecat, should be given the dignity of human rights. Perhaps it is only the potential for intelligence they revere. It is never clear to me why a person's humanity is an insufficient warrant to treat him as a human being, but his potential for intelligence is a sufficient warrant for treating him as a human being, especially when the distinction is being made between a blastulae that will one day develop a brain, and a fetus that has a brain or a proto-brain but no conscience or rational thoughts, no speech or moral decisions, taking place inside it.

As ever, on the topic of abortion, it is so-called mystics [pro-lifers, particularly religious ones] who talk science and common sense, and the so-called scientific types who talk mysticism, paradox, and nonsense....And they call us anti-science."

The argument for abortion which is based on these concepts of ensoulment is further flawed by the fact that our legal system for the most part does not rely on whether one believes that anybody else has a soul or not. Materialists do not believe that anybody has a soul, and ultimately argue that these things which we relegate to the realm of metaphysics--souls and spirits, intelligence, the mind, emotions, etc.--are merely "emergent phenomena." These things exist only because the physical reality exists; thus, by this system of thought, it is impossible to determine the non-existence of the metaphysical attributes of personhood in an unborn child (or, alternatively, it is impossible to determine the existence of such attributes in a twenty-five year old man). Yet, the materialist is expected to obey the same prohibitions against murder as any other person. You don't have to believe in the soul either way to know, deep down, that murder is wrong, and that it is a bad idea for society to allow it.

Moreover, the fact that the stage at which ensoulment occurs is a speculation means that the prudent course of the law is to assume that it occurs at the earliest time possible (conception), not the latest (sometime well after birth, by the account of some). Thus, the argument of uncertainty best applies as a pro-life argument, not a pro-choice one. As for the argument in which humanity is separated from personhood, well, few if any good things have ever come from that mode of thinking; rather, it has given us many of the horrors of human history, from the Nazi mistreatment of the Jews to slavery to human sacrifices (in civilizations such as the Aztecs or the Phoenicians). Applying this distinction to abortion is no different.

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*It is worth noting here that although these great saints lived in an era before ultrasound technology was available, and thus formulated interesting opinions of when after conception (though before birth) ensoulment occurs, both opposed abortion at any stage if for no other reason than that the Church opposed it. This is something which the so-called "pro-choice Catholics" ought to keep in mind when citing such thinkers to attempt to make a "Catholic Case for abortion."

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If you found this post helpful, some related posts may be found here:
The Shame of Silence: Men and Abortion
35 Years of Roe and Doe
Speaking Up, If Painfully
Some Thoughts on Abortion: Some Rights are Greater than Others
Pro-Life Motives
Tactics for Avoiding a Terrible Fact: "Famous Violinist"
Righteous Fear of the Lord and the Pro-Life Movement
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What Makes a Heretic?

There has apparently been some confusion concerning my recent (and perhaps a tad frequent) use of the word "heretic." To a lesser extent, this is also true for the words "apostate" and "infidel." Some people have asked what makes a person a heretic, or alternatively who decides who is an isn't a heretic. Merriam-Webster's dictionary gives a very precise definition for what a heretic is:

a dissenter from established religious dogma ; especially : a baptized member of the Roman Catholic Church who disavows a revealed truth [bold emphasis mine].

This emphasized part is particularly important: while heresy may be applied to any religion or (using its secondary definition, any system of thought), it is particularly well-suited as a term for dissenters within the Catholic Church*. Moreover, St Thomas defines a heresy as

a species of infidelity in men who, having professed the faith of Christ, corrupt its dogmas.

You may perhaps be wondering why this is particularly true of dissident Catholics. The answer is this: Catholic doctrine and dogma is defined in a more comprehensive and decisive manner than, say, Protestant doctrine or dogma. Indeed, It is more precise and comprehensive that the doctrines of any particular Protestant denomination**. Whereas a key tenet of Protestantism is its insistence on the right of every individual to interpret the Bible for himself (and thus to decide for himself which doctrines are true and which are not), the Church lays claim to the authority to interpret Scripture (and Tradition) definitively. Individuals may still interpret these things for themselves, but these interpretations are bound to the Church's interpretations if they are to be orthodox, and, therefore, it is the Church who determines which doctrines are true and which are false.

It is thus much easier to define a heretic in terms of Catholicism than it is to define one in terms of Protestantism, or even in terms of individual Protestant denominations/communities. This is especially true since the 30,000 or so different Protestant denominations (including non-denominational) have, as a whole, very few collective doctrines; pick any doctrine, and at least one of these denominations is likely to embrace it, and another to reject it. It seems to me that the most common doctrines of Protestantism are the Solas, and the acceptance of Christ's divinity, and the doctrine of the Trinity (a doctrine which is not found in Scripture, I might add).

I suppose that denying any of the three Solas, the divinity of Christ, or the Trinity would make one a heretic if one began as a Protestant; after this, there are a number of doctrines which would make one a heretic a great number of denominations, but since the denominations general change regarding any given doctrine, this is considerably more difficult to define; however, Sacramental Theory, Ecclesiastical Authority, and the Rapture are generally considered to be amongst the significant disagreements between Catholics and Protestants.

The Catholic theology, on the other hand, is much more developed (there are far more Catholic, and therefore Catholic thinkers, and the Catholic Church has been around for far longer). Furthermore, since the Church has authority to define doctrine and dogma in a way which Protestant denominations can't (and don't claim to), deliberately dissenting from any of these points of defined doctrine and revealed dogma makes one a heretic; assuming, of course, that the other condition of professing faith in Christ in general and claiming to be Catholic in particular is met (recall St Thomas' definition, as quoted above).

Thus, as to the original question: who decides whether a person is a heretic or not, I answer that in general, the Catholic Church does. Specifically, anyone who knowingly and deliberately dissents from Catholic doctrine is a heretic. The word can, however, be used by other religions (the Jews might describe the early Church as a heresy, for example).




*For those who are curious, the Catholic Encyclopedia also treats the distinctions between heretics, apostates, and schismatics.

**I'm not going to comment here concerning other religions, such as Judaism or Islam, which have their own sets of theology. Both admit the existence of heresies within their systems, but I am not quite so familiar with their theologies as a whole, and thus will not offer a comment as to what a heresy might consist.

Tactics for Avoiding a Terrible Fact: "Famous Violinist"

Murder is the deliberate taking of an innocent human's life. This is a basic definition which most reasonable people can agree upon. In reading the arguments commonly presented by the advocates of abortion--those who would be called pro-choice--I have noticed that most of the arguments deny that at least one of the terms in this definition apply to the unborn*. I have said "most" and not "all" because there are a number of clever arguments which have been employed in an attempt to get around applying the description of "murder" to abortions; some even do what they can to avoid the broader term "homicide," by claiming that , although the zygote/embryo/fetus ("child") was alive, the action committed was not to kill him, but rather to let him die.

The most famous of these arguments is probably Judith Jarvis Thompson's "Famous Violinist" argument. This was a clever argument employed at a time before the advocates for abortion-on-demand had effectively admitted defeat in the battle of the definition of murder (that is, they could no longer factually maintain that any of the terms in the definition for murder would not apply to an abortion). It is employed by many abortion advocates within the halls of academia, perhaps most notably by Professor David Boonin in his debate against Professor Peter Kreeft. Thompson's argument hinges on the idea that an "unplanned pregnancy" is analogous to a kidnapping; thus, if the woman has an "unwanted pregnancy," she should have the right to terminate it, just as a man who has been kidnapped so that his kidneys can be used to keep a famous violinist alive for the next 9 months should have the right to refuse, thus allowing the violinist to die.

This analogy is non-sequitur in every case save for the (exceedingly rare) case of rape. In almost every case (save rape), the woman made a decision to have sexual intercourse; an exception is that in some bizarre cases, the woman actually had the embryo implanted before deciding that, on second thought, maybe she didn't really want to become a mother; or alternatively, the wrong embryo is implanted. In any case, the woman has engaged in an activity which she knows can lead to pregnancy (it's called procreation for a reason). Ignorance of this fact is not an excuse, especially in today's environment in which children have sex ed starting in kindergarten. That her or her partner's contraceptive attempts have failed is not an excuse, since she was supposedly warned in these sex-ed classes that contraception can fail.

Moreover, the woman's situation after pregnancy is not analogous to being hooked up to a life-support machine. The image given by Thompson's argument is one of a woman being bed-ridden for the next nine months of her life, unable to do anything by lie on her back attached to a machine. This does not sound like any of the pregnant women who I have ever met; some are actually more energetic during the second trimester of pregnancy that any other time of their lives; during the first trimester, it seems that with morning sickness aside, there is not a loss of quality of life (unless the woman is a binge drinker or chain-smoker, in which case taking a break for the pregnancy is probably a good thing for her). Even during the third trimester, the woman in question is perfectly capable to doing a great many things beyond lying on her back. Just ask feminist groups such as the Fawcett Foundation (UK) or the various feminist groups here in the US who have fought to allow pregnant women to work, arguing that pregnancy is "not a disability" (a point with which I agree).

These points aside, there is another gaping difference between an abortion and unhooking a person from life-support. When the person is unhooked from life-support, he will of course die (if the life-support system was sustaining him), and that is a tragedy. However, this is in no way comparable to the gruesome and indeed excruciating death suffered by the aborted child. Unplugging the violinist is not equivalent to hacking him to pieces, which is what is done during a surgical abortion; nor is it equivalent to immolating him, which is the effect of a saline-solution. This latter, incidentally, is generally used to abort children after 16 weeks of pregnancy; many of these are actually viable, if only they could be given the proper medical treatment.

And that is yet another problem with the violinist argument: advances in medical technology have practically made it obsolete. The presupposition of the argument is that a woman who is pregnant is being forced to act as life-support against her will; indeed, life-support is the role which she is playing in the pregnancy. However, the child could, with our modern medical technology, be transplanted to another woman who would care for him. Alternatively (for those among us who cringe at the idea of transplanting an unborn child from one mother to another), since often pregnancy is not discovered until much later, the child might be placed in artificial life support and given the chance to live.

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*I am not the first to notice this, as Professor J. Budziszewski even recorded this in his book, What We Can't Not Know.

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If you found this post helpful, some related posts may be found here:
The Shame of Silence: Men and Abortion
Speaking Up, If Painfully
Some Thoughts on Abortion: Some Rights are Greater than Others
Abortion Rationalizations and Motives
Tactics for Avoiding a Terrible Fact: "Human" vs "Person"
Pro-Choice to Save the Planet? I Don't Think So
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Prayer for Patience with Heretics (and Apostates and Infidels)

Oh Lord, grant me the patience to act with charity towards those with whom I disagree. When they are in the right and I am in the wrong, grant that my eyes will be opened to see the truth of their argument. When I am in the right, and they are in the wrong, grant that they will see the truth of my argument, that they may come more closely into Your Truth.

Father, grant that I may work with due kindness and tact in my dealings with the heretics, the apostates, the infidels, but foremost may I speak out of charity, being loyal to You first through Your Son and His Bride. Set my feet upon the path which You have ordained, and grant me the courage to speak always the Truth. Grant that they may know Your Truth in their dealings with me, and I pray that they will draw closer to You as a result.

Lord Jesus, Son of the Father and our Brother through Your Incarnation and our Lord in Your Godhead, grant me patience with the heretics, even as I loath their heresy, and similarly with the apostates as I abhor their apostasy; also, with the infidels, even as I deplore their infidelity, especially those who have heard the Truth and have rejected it. Grant, that in answering such heretics, I may not slip into pride, and thus fall myself. Grant that I may not fall into a counter-heresy, as has happened to many of your well-meaning followers in the past. Instead, may my feet be rooted in Your Truth, may orthodoxy be my base of argument, and may the Faith be my guide. Help me to recall that the Truth comes not from me, but rather from You, through Your revelation, through the voice of Your Church. May I serve her, and through her serve You, for she is your Bride, and You are her Lover.

Holy Spirit, guide Your Church, impregnate her with the Truth, and the zeal thereof, but also with holy joy. Grant me Your gifts, of wisdom that I may show the Truth, but also of understanding so that I may be merciful and just in Your name; of knowledge, that I may explain the Truth intelligently, but also of fortitude, so that I may boldly proclaim the Word; of counsel, which is right judgment, that I may properly discern truth from falsehood, but also piety, so that I may revere You with the Father and the Son, Who are Truth. Most importantly, grant me the Fear of You, Lord, that I may stand always in awe of You and not of myself, acting not for myself but for Your glory, and for the honor of Your Church.

Amen.

Childlike, Childish

This has long been a point of reflection for me; that there is on occasion a confusion of terms between childlike and childish. The two words are, after all, different from one another. The former word, as defined by Merriam-Webster, means of, resembling, or appropriate to a child, especially marked by innocence, trust, and ingenuousness. The latter word, childish, means of, relating to, or befitting a child; marked by or suggestive of immaturity and a lack of poise. Note the major distinction which I have emphasized.

Childlike means being marked by innocence, trust, and ingenuousness. What are each of these aspects, and in relation to what to to whom do they apply? Innocence, which ought to be distinguished from naivete', can simply mean "free from guilt," but it can also mean free from sin or unacquainted with evil (or, in one connotation, chaste). Thus, a child-like approach to life may be to avoid the pitfalls of sin; as Mark Shea is so fond of saying, "sin makes you stupid." Thus, there is no contradiction in saying that one must be both wise and childlike.

Trust, on the other hand, has a number of definitions. The most important (and first) is assured reliance on the character, ability, strength, or truth of someone or something. Whom are we to trust? Again, return to the example of being childlike; in whom does a child place his trust? In his father and his mother. Thus, we too ought to place our trust in our Father--God--and in our Mother--God's bride, the Church*.

Finally, ingenuousness, which means candidness; or lacking subtly and craft. If innocence is our relationship to the world--specifically to sin--and to ourselves, and if trust is our relationship to God and His Church, then ingenuousness is our relationship to each other. We are to be candid with each other, that is we should be honest and truthful to the best of our abilities. The social nicety of the white lie may seem harmless (and may even have some benefits, at least in the short-term); but even these can become a double-edged sword, as for example when they grow from white lies meant to avoid giving insult into an avoidance of more serious issues. For it is no mere "white lie" when we fail to warn against sins (both in kind and severity)--and particularly grievous sins--as charity requires of us when we are in a position to do so.

However, ingenuousness has another (sometimes obsolete) meaning: honorable and noble. We ought to be noble and honorable, as befits our royal standing among creation; for we are each man a king (and each woman a queen) as regards the rest of creation, under the authority only of the Emperor of Heaven. Or perhaps a more fitting title would be that we are stewards of the King, for God has entrusted to us that which is not ours, but rather that which is His. This includes, first and foremost, ourselves.

If "childlike" is a suitable term to describe right relationships, then "childish" is its very opposite. Children can be innocent, trustful, ingenuous; they can also be selfish, deceitful, and petty. The latter is often the case when they focus only on their own (often immediate) happiness. If you have ever seen a child throw a tantrum, or refuse to share his toys (even if he is not playing with them himself), or fib to get out of trouble, then you know what I am talking about. If being child-like often arises from humility, then being childish arises just as often from pride. In the end, we all have a choice: bend our wills to become child-like, or stoop into childishness.


*One could also insert the Son's mother, St Mary.

The Curse of Moloch

Drums pound their wartime beat,
Boom-do-boom-boom-baboom!
As a mighty parade marches forth,
Elephants fore! and foot soldiers flank.

War falls upon the Senate and People true,
War upon the lands of loyal civic virtue.

The general strides forward upon his mount,
An elephant bull whose solemn steps
Shake alike earth and the hearts of men,
None can withstand this great host.

Roman virtue, honor, courage ne'er fails,
But Roman arms seem oh so frail!

Abroad the great fires roar ever louder,
Hungry for the flesh offered in sacrifice,
Its blaze bright as that which light the underworld
Its cackle drowned only by victims' cries.

Moloch has demanded sacrifices of children,
To be repaid by the blood of Rome's brave men.

Though the Republic's armies sink in bog
And scatter hopeless in battle's defeat,
The Punic hosts must advance no further,
Hold the lines, let not courage yet falter!

The demon's head is protected, unopposed!
Yet his belly lies unguarded and exposed!*

At last, those dreadful fires have cooled,
And Moloch's armies starve with their god,
Return ye to Carthage in defeat!
Though Moloch demands blood still.

Oh, Ba'al**, my hope is to see your buried,
May Rome never forget your savagery!

The fires fade and Moloch's mem'ry is forgotten,
He'll surely return to claim our children again,
For a god cannot be killed by mortal arms,
And his followers will return to seek revenge.



*The Romans struck at the lightly guarded and scarce caravans sent to keep Hannibal's armies supplied.

**Ba'al is another title sometimes given to Moloch

Descriptions, Not Necessarily Insults

For today's thirty minutes, I want to take a moment to talk about insults. More specifically, I want to discuss the difference between an insult, which is meant to be derogatory or pejorative, and simply calling a thing (or person) by its (or his) proper name. The two can at times be similar, but there is generally some difference between them; the difference is largely though not necessarily exclusively one of intent*; the same is true, in fact, of a compliment.

C.S. Lewis explains the difference in Mere Christianity:

The word gentleman originally meant something recognisable; one who had a coat of arms and some landed property. When you called someone "a gentleman" you were not paying him a compliment, but merely stating a fact. If you said he was not "a gentleman" you were not insulting him, but giving information. There was no contradiction in saying that John was a liar and a gentleman; any more than there now is in saying that James is a fool and an M.A. But then there came people who said-so rightly, charitably, spiritually, sensitively, so anything but usefully-"Ah, but surely the important thing about a gentleman is not the coat of arms and the land, but the behaviour? Surely he is the true gentleman who behaves as a gentleman should? Surely in that sense Edward is far more truly a gentleman than John?"

They meant well. To be honourable and courteous and brave is of course a far better thing than to have a coat of arms. But it is not the same thing. Worse still, it is not a thing everyone will agree about. To call a man "a gentleman" in this new, refined sense, becomes, in fact, not a way of giving information about him, but a way of praising him: to deny that he is "a gentleman" becomes simply a way of insulting him. When a word ceases to be a term of description and becomes merely a term of praise, it no longer tells you facts about the object: it only tells you about the speaker's attitude to that object. (A "nice" meal only means a meal the speaker likes.)

A gentleman, once it has been spiritualised and refined out of its old coarse, objective sense, means hardly more than a man whom the speaker likes. As a result, gentleman is now a useless word. We had lots of terms of approval already, so it was not needed for that use; on the other hand if anyone (say, in a historical work) wants to use it in its old sense, he cannot do so without explanations. It has been spoiled for that purpose.

Thus, when I say that a person is a Christian, I am neither complimenting nor insulting him, just as when I say that he is a Muslim or a Buddhist. More importantly, if I state that someone is a heretic, then I am referring to the fact that he is holding a (religious) view which is contrary to the Faith (Catholicism). The label, as used by me, a Catholic, applies equally well to the most devote Lutheran or Presbyterian as to the most sincere of the Cathari, or to the most radical of the liberation theologians who rejects any claims to heaven as being outside of earth. Similarly, when I use the word infidel, it applies correctly to a materialist, but also to a pagan or a Hindi**. A follower of Moloch, Zeus, Quetzalcoatl, Zoroaster or Thor could just as easily refer to me as being an infidel; in his religion, I am.

None of these things are insults when properly applied, though offense may be taken at them. The terms are there to tell us something about the person: that he is not orthodox, or not Catholic at all, or not a Christian. If one isn't actually an orthodox Catholic, then being called a dissident or a heretic is not an insult, it is a true statement. It would, however, be a kind of insult (to all the orthodox Catholics) if we stopped using heretic when referring to a person who rejects or replaces doctrines of the Catholic faith with doctrines of their own.

Do I believe that being a heretic is a bad thing? Yes. But does that mean that I am trying to insult someone who rejects part (or all) of the Faith when I refer to them as a heretic (or infidel)? No. It is an objective observation of their state of belief relative to Catholicism (sometimes to Christianity, though this is broader and thus harder to qualify). If I want to insult you, I will pick on more relative qualities and bring them to a bad light; there are, after all, less objective things than one's faithfulness, loyalty, and orthodoxy to the fullness of the Catholic Faith.


*I might note that one difference between an insult and a proper description is that in many cases the insult involved calling a thing what it is not, i.e. using a term or name which is not proper to the person or thing; this is especially the case if the improper term or name is made out to be the proper one.

**I might here add that both infidel and heretic can be applied to Muslims, but that is a different can of worms.

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If you enjoyed this post, here are some other similar posts which I have written:
Reclaiming Our Rainbow
The Full Significance of the Rainbow
Meaning at the End of the Rainbow
If You Love the Sinners, Warn Them of the Sin
Descriptions, Not Necessarily Insults
Being Tactful and Being "Nice"
"Judge Not" and Mercy (Thirty Minute Musings)
Warnings and Ignorance (Thirty Minute Musings)
The Christian Society: Justice, Mercy, and Solidarity (Nicene Guys)
Apologetics and Motivation
Tolerance, Charity, and Dignity (Nicene Guys)

Trust Who with the Choice?

I recently dropped into the "Real Choice" blog; of interest, an article about NARAL's "trust women" (shouldn't that be spelled with an "i" or "y"?) campaign.

Aside from the very fact that abortion is proof positive that some women can't be trusted, at least not with the lives of their unborn children in times of stress, is NARAL's real agenda about trusting women?

NARAL doesn't trust women at all...Who they really are about trusting is abortionists.

I'm reminded somewhat of the speech given at the University of Texas by NARAL president Nancy Keenan. She essentially said that the "choice" should be up to "the woman, her family, her doctor, and her God." Yet, when you follow the actual practices of these people, you come to realize that they really mean "the choice should be up to her abortionist and anyone else pushing her to get an abortion."

"The choice should be up to the woman." Yet, there is no outcry about the fact that the single largest demographic in the country which favors abortion is young unwed men, and that many a woman is brought to the "clinic" against her own desire of even will. There is, moreover, no outcry from NARAL about the fact that in countries such as China and India, women aren't given the choice at all; after the first child, their choices for pregnancy are "abort, or else." Finally, there is an utter lack of support for any initiative which might encourage the woman to make an informed decision (for example, ultrasound laws or informed consent laws with waiting periods of any time, no matter how short), let alone for organizations such as the various crisis pregnancy centers, "mothering houses," and other resources for women who don't want the abortions.

"The choice should be up to her family." Who, specifically, does this include? Apparently not the [underaged] girl's parents (let alone those of an adult woman), since NARAL and company oppose parental notification laws (let alone parental consent). They have fought such laws tooth-and-nail, even when those laws make provisions for the possbibilities of abusive parents or other situations in which the woman's safety could be endangered.

"The choice should be up to the girl's doctor." Yet these folks also oppose conscience clauses which would allow doctors (and pharmacists) to opt out of being complicit in abortion. They also oppose any option which involves crisis pregnancy centers, to which many a good doctor or pharmacist might refer the woman in question. And then there is the push to begin making it mandatory for hospitals, even private 9read: Catholic) hospitals to either provide abortions or allow and abortion provider to set-up his mill nearby; tell me that's leaving some choice up to the doctors.

"The choice should be up to the woman's God." This from a group whose their rallying cry is often "Keep your rosaries of my *******." The oppose any statement by any religion (or religious leader) opposing abortion, whether it's an official statement, a voter's guide, a sermon or homily, a prayer vigil, or even a private counseling session in which the woman is told to "trust that God knows what He is doing in bringing this child to the world." Who, exactly, is the God to whom she was referring? Moloch? Quetzalcoatl? Obama?

A Kinder, Gentler, More Modern Gnosticism

In a recent phone conversation with a good friend of mine, the topic of heresies came up. Heresies fascinate me--not because I love heresy, but because their development, their history, their effects on society, the Church's response, and their ultimate demise all are interesting to me. It's interesting to see how the Church's understanding of the faith grows in response to a given heresy, but also to see how the heresy begins and end, and what destruction is wrought in its wake (mostly, in the hopes of avoiding a repeat of the heresy in the future).

During the course of the conversation, my friend mentioned that he, too, was interested by heresies. In particular, he was amazed by the fact that two heresies have survived the centuries to the present day, and have indeed grown: Islam (a heresy from without, as Belloc called it) and Protestantism (really a collection of heresies centered on a rejection of the Church's authority and on a difference of interpretation of the effects of the Fall). I remarked that almost all of the great heresies have survived to or resurfaced in present days, if not in form or name then in teaching or practice.

One of those heresies is, of course, Gnosticism. This was popularized in part by Dan Brown's novels and the ideas contained therein (with no pun intended). However, it has long been an underlying assumption of many folks, including many professed Catholics and other Christians. This phenomenon is thoroughly-treated by Eric Voeglin and (more recently) Robert P. George as pertaining to political life--it is actually fairly prevalent in one form or another.

The heresy of gnosticism is also somewhat widespread as a religious doctrine, one not often recognized even by the people who hold it. To summarize how it appears in religious belief, consider that in the old gnostic heresy, against which the Gospel according to St John was written, there was a widespread revilement of the flesh. Hence the aforementioned gospel begins with

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God....And the Word became flesh (John 1:1,14).

The Gnostics reject the flesh (and indeed the material world) as being itself an evil thing, created not by God but by an evil principal, who was either equal to God or a creature of God who rebelled (depending upon the particular Gnostics and their particular creed); in the case of the early Gnostics, this evil creator of the material world was a Demiurge, below God, but above all else. In any case, Gnostics rejected the flesh as being evil, and often held that salvation came through spiritual things alone, in particular "knowledge" (hence the name "gnostic").

It is this last part which is of particular relevance today. If the flesh is evil, then nothing good can be of the flesh. Indeed, no truth could then be gleaned from the flesh. Thus, the fact that Christ became a man (that is, he was incarnated as a male) could say nothing about His person as the Son (they often shun the use of the terms "Father" and "Son" when describing God). Hence do people often force artificially gender-neutral terms into the language, or worse pick their own favorite terms, substituting "Mother" or "Child" into the Trinity; after all, if the flesh is evil, then anything which can be learned from analogies to the flesh must itself be corrupt.

Thus, Christ's sex as during the Incarnation (He was a Man) and His gender as a spiritual Being can be divorced from each other. Often this is taken a step farther by saying that a person's sex and his or her gender can be divorced (a female can be "trapped' in a man's body and vice-versa). The flesh is at war with the soul, the Gnostic would say*. The original Gnostics actually denied that God became Incarnate. Rather, they held that His earthly form was only an appearance, that Christ was not really both true God and true Man; some eventually held that He was neither, but rather an angel sent from God (not true God) who appeared as a man (not true Man).

But the whole of salvation requires that Christ be both true God and true Man. If He is not true God, then how can perfectly He act on God's behalf? And if not Man, then how could man be at last reconciled to God? Being true man means having all of the characteristics of man, which includes his sexuality. Yet, God also cannot deceive--as the act of faith states; nor did He choose to become a man (as opposed to a woman) by mere accident; indeed, His earthly Incarnation must have conveyed some truth about Him as well: that He is Son, not daughter. To reject this, to reject the significance of the flesh, would be to embrace what is sometimes fittingly called the oldest of heresies.


*I am here reminded of St Teresa of Avila's short though apt refutation of this notion:

There are other things to be done--exterior works, as of charity and spiritual reading--though at time the sould will not be able to do them. Take care, then, of the body for the love of God, because at many other times the body must serve the soul; and let recourse be had to some recreations [of the body]--holy ones--such as conversation or going out into the fields, as teh confessor shall advise. [Taken from "The Life of St. Teresa of Avila; emphasis mine]

Meaning at the End of the Rainbow

'And this', God said, 'is the sign of the covenant which I now make between myself and you and every living creature with you for all ages to come: I now set my bow in the clouds and it will be the sign of the covenant between me and the earth. When I gather the clouds over the earth and the bow appears in the clouds, I shall recall the covenant between myself and you and every living creature, in a word all living things, and never again will the waters become a flood to destroy all living things. When the bow is in the clouds I shall see it and call to mind the eternal covenant between God and every living creature on earth, that is, all living things. ''That', God told Noah, 'is the sign of the covenant I have established between myself and all living things on earth.' (Genesis 9:12-17).

As I wrote in an earlier post, this promise goes beyond goes beyond a mere agreement to cease and desist with the smiting of the earth in general and humanity in particular. Man had long since fallen from the state of supernatural grace I which he had been created. His natural state was in need of redemption, but the time for that had not yet come. No Redeemer had yet graced the earth to offer man a return to the state of grace necessary for his salvation.

The rainbow marked the beginning of a covenant which would be furthered with Noah’s descendant, Abram—Abraham—and then in turn with his descendants. A nation would be raised up to prepare the way for man’s salvation, a nation which, like the rest of mankind, would at times find itself adrift, fallen away from its Lord. The covenant would be a fulfillment of the promise made to Adam and Eve, in the form of a curse upon the serpent:

I shall put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; it will bruise your head and you will strike its heel' (Genesis 3:15).

Such was the promise of the New Man, born of Woman, but sent by God. Yet, how could this have been known by Adam and Eve, or even by Noah? Noah, who with his with and sons and daughters-in-law braved the flood which destroyed everything which they had ever known on the earth, knew the awesome ability of God to punish, as, indeed, did Adam and Eve.

Little did they know that God had something greater in mind for them, that their mere survival was a greater reward than they ever could have asked. For had God eliminated humanity from the earth, who then would have been ultimately saved? Contrary to the claims of Monophysitism and Monothelitism, the Savior must be fully human, just as contrary to Arianism, He must also be fully God. Sure, God might have re-created man, but as Tertullian once noted, the stain of sin is hereditary, and is passed on by the seed of man.

What is so often overlooked is that when this covenant was made, God secretly hinted at the form which salvation would take.

Every living thing that moves will be yours to eat, no less than the foliage of the plants. I give you everything, with this exception: you must not eat flesh with life, that is to say blood, in it (Genesis 9:3-4).

Life is equated with blood. At the time, it may have appeared only to a rule which was binding, and which, indeed, was one of the few dietary laws which were retained by the early Church (Acts 15:20). However, when dealing with God, even rules often point beyond themselves, for (contrary to popular belief) morality is not just rules, nor is it even limited to a guide for right relationships between men and between men and God. Rather, it is meant to teach us something about God (or ourselves).

In this case, the rule to abstain from blood was a sort of sign, pointing towards the sacrifice—the Precious Blood which would be spilled—to enable us to become holy. Our salvation would come from blood, and so blood was to be sacred:
And I shall demand account of your life-blood, too. I shall demand it of every animal, and of man. Of man as regards his fellow-man, I shall demand account for human life (Genesis 9:3).

With this sign comes a warning, for salvation comes through the spilling of Blood by us all. Heaven becomes more attainable—grace now exists—but hell must also become that much worse. For we each fell in the first sin, and we each participated in the greatest sin (Deicide) when men spilled the blood of the New Man. That blood has been spilled, and so we must offer an account for it, whether we choose to accept in good faith the forgiveness, the mercy, and the grace which has been extended to us. Thus, there is meaning to be gleaned from the sign at the end (or perhaps the beginning) of the rainbow. We should receive this sign with “fear and trembling” (Philippians 2:12) but also with great hope, for if we are faithful to God, then His promise extends to us as well.



*This also puts an interesting spin on Christ’s words: “Jesus answered them: ‘I am the bread of life. No one who comes to me will ever hunger; no one who believes in me will ever thirst’” (John 6:35).

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If you enjoyed this post, here are some other similar posts which I have written:
Reclaiming Our Rainbow
The Full Significance of the Rainbow
If You Love the Sinners, Warn Them of the Sin
Descriptions, Not Necessarily Insults
Being Tactful and Being "Nice"
"Judge Not" and Mercy (Thirty Minute Musings)
Warnings and Ignorance (Thirty Minute Musings)
The Christian Society: Justice, Mercy, and Solidarity (Nicene Guys)

In Defense of Summer, and a Critique of Formal Education

I was recently passing through the blogosphere when I came across a short piece posted on Fr Z's blog. It seems that President Obama has proposed, among other things, lengthening the school year (and thus shortening the summer) for children; he also proposed lengthening the school day. Here, then, are my thoughts on this matter.

Having entered graduate school, I can note that my days of having a summer-long vacation are over. Indeed, many people at the college level do not observe summer vacations as such: while a good number get a much-needed break from classes, many will spend the summer working (or interning). For me, at least, the summer has been a much-needed break from classes; I spend the summers focused on my research now, and they can be the most productive time of the year in that regard.

More generally, though, the break from classes is much-needed time to acquire an education. I chose the word "acquire" as opposed to "supplement" or "compliment" because that word really does fit the situation best. School--the classes, the formal learning, the teachers and professors--this really should be about supplementing education, because we really do learn best what we learn for ourselves. The aim of "formal education"is not merely to learn lots of new things, but rather to learn how to learn (what we learn from school is a bonus in this sense).

There are certainly some fundamentals which can most easily be taught in the classroom: mathematics, reading, music, social skills, diction, theoretical (and sometimes experimental) science. But we don't really learn these things until we try them for ourselves. My teachers could teach me how to read and even how to interpret or analyze a book; if the teacher is particularly good, he may even teach me how to understand the book--the answer to this can't be found in the feminist/Marxist/liberationist, reductionist/Freudian/Jungian, (post)modernist, black oppressionist interpretations theories widely taught in college and indeed even earlier. What no teacher can really teach is the value of the book. They could not teach me how to enjoy it on a sunny afternoon under the shade of a tall oak tree, a glass of ice tea near at hand. I had to discover this for myself.

How often does a geology lesson finally take hold when you stumble upon an interesting rock while swimming in the river or quarry? How often does a biology lecture come to life when you see a hawk swoop into the grass, and then glide triumphantly overhead, a writhing snake in his grasp? And the foreign languages that we are all required to study for two years and often more--does the Spanish not take a firmer hold when on a vacation mission trip to Mexico?

This is the purpose of those "vacation" times. It is in our leisure that we learn the truly human things. We can fill our head with the information learned in the classroom, the lecture hall, or even the school laboratory; we will neither understand it nor appreciate it without the chance to go experience it on our own. That information becomes knowledge only if we spend time in reflection. This reflection can best take place during times of leisure. Reflection is indeed often discouraged when in the classroom: how many people caught "daydreaming" are reprimanded by their teachers?

And all of this assumes that the schools are actually doing a good job of teaching the part which they can and should teach. The schools don't need more hours in the day (or more days in the year) to meet our country's educational needs. I can say this from experience, having been home-schooled for 4 years. I often learned more in the three or four hours spent on school-work each day than I did during the 6-7 hours (plus homework) of school that I had daily when in the public schools.

As I said at the beginning of this essay, schools are meant to supplement an education. Some people reading that may well have been complaining that this is ridiculous, that schools are meant to give an education. The schools in this country, from Kindergarten to college, have by-and-large failed in this endeavor, and have done so miserably. Perhaps it is because at some point they tried to become the sole instrument of learning and the sole source of education-overstepping their mandate and going beyond their purpose--during these years that they failed.

In any case, they failed not only in becoming the sole instrument in the orchestra of learning, but in their actual purpose of being the conductor of the orchestra. Schools at best compliment, and at worst inhibit actual learning from taking place. For me, it is during the summers and the weekends when I find myself gaining an education more and more. At school, and even--especially--at graduate school, I find myself being trained more than educated. Too often, indoctrination takes the place of teaching, and that's when considering subjects which ought to be taught. Consider, for example, my prior complaint about the various forms of literary interpretation taught in the classroom--none of any value. The one form of interpretation never taught is to ask why the author wrote his essay or book in the first place. We are to ask what the author is really trying to say, rather than what the author is truly trying to say.

Then there are all of the subjects which have little place--and often no place whatsoever--in our schools. Most major colleges have departments for feminist, gay, black and/or African-American, and often Marxist studies. What value do any of these fields have? I will answer this: none. They are as worthless as the essays written in each of their "respective" fields. Elements of each are surely taught in secondary and even primary schools. Then there are the "Health and Human Sexuality" classes, taught at any number of grade levels (starting, in some districts, with children at the ripe and mature old age of 5). Whatever happened to the fundamentals of reading, writing, and arithmetic? And at a more advanced age, literature/Great Books, writing, and mathematics? Latin, rhetoric, and music? Art, history, and the sciences? What about logic, philosophy, and (heaven forbid) theology? Or even civics, government, and economics (the last of which seems to be ignored whenever proposals for lengthening the school day or year are made)?

We do not need longer days or years in the classroom. What we do need is a more efficient use of the time and resources available. We also need to return to the primary purpose of formal education, which is as a supplement or guide for learning in general. We need to remember that an education is something which is earned--something which individuals attains largely by their own efforts. And most especially, we need the "leisure" time for learning to take root; the time for an appreciation of education to develop; and the time for reflection to take place so that information can be transformed into knowledge, understanding, and wisdom.

Top Ten Slogans for PETA

In light of PETA's response to President Obama's swatting a fly, as well as a reaction to a mother saving her child from a cougar, I think it's time for PETA to re-work some of its motos. After all, "Save the Sea Kittens!" just doesn't do it (and since when are fish "Sea Kittens?"). So, here I present a list of the top ten slogans for PETA:

10. "PETA: we love all animals. (Humans and purebreds excluded.)"

9. "PETA. Fighting speciesism: one person at a time."

8. "Disease is such a small price to pay..."

7. "...especially if the disease is malaria."

6. "Meat is murder, but starvation, well, that's just compassion."

5. PETA (People Euthanizing The Animals)--"We euthanize animals so that you don't have to!"

4. "We wouldn't harm a fly (unless we're sure nobody else is looking)."

3. "Got brain damage? You're in good company (with us)!"

2. "Get comfortable in your skin--or somebody else's."

1. "Save a cougar--kill a child!"

Credit to Mark Shea for giving me this ideas with his "Shorter PETA: Wishing Hitler could have done more" missive.

Who Made Evil?

A recent email discussion with my girlfriend found this somewhat apocryphal account of Einstein's argument with a professor concerning the nature of evil. Whether it can actually be attributed to Einstein or not aside, the point made is a good one: God did not create evil, and indeed, evil is the absence (or distortion) of God and His love.

The account reminds me of Lewis' argument concerning the relationship between omnipotence and free will. In The Problem of Pain, Lewis writes

His Omnipotence means power to do all that is intrinsically possible, not to do the intrinsically impossible. You may attribute miracles to him, but not nonsense. This is no limit to his power. If you choose to say 'God can give a creature free will and at the same time withhold free will from it,' you have not succeeded in saying anything about God: meaningless combinations of words do not suddenly acquire meaning simply because we prefix to them the two other words 'God can.'... It is no more possible for God than for the weakest of his creatures to carry out both of two mutually exclusive alternatives; not because his power meets an obstacle, but because nonsense remains nonsense even when we talk it about God.

In some sense, God makes a willing surrender of His omnipotence when He grants free will to any of His creatures, be they angels or men. We who have been given free will are given a share---finite as it is--of God's power and are allowed to become co-creators. What are we creating?

In giving us this power, we are allowed a choice: accept of reject God. One may say that a bit of the power of the will is to prevent God from being omnipresent. St Teresa of Avila says in her autobiography that

Prayer is the door to those great graces which our Lord has bestowed upon me. If this door is shut, I do not see how He can bestow them; and even if He entered into a soul to take delight therein, there is no way by which he can do so....If we put many hindrances in the way, and take no pains whatever to remove them, how can He come to us, and how can we have any desire that He should show us His great mercies?

God has given us the ability to reject Him, because only having this choice are we truly able to embrace Him. As a consequence of rejecting Him, we see the great evils of the world. How could we expect any differently? Why would we expect the world to be a good place if we ourselves have exiled the Source of all good? Evil exists, but it is not God who created it; no, that infamy belongs first to the fallen angels--demons--and then to us.

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If you enjoyed this post, here are some related ones:

Unstoppable Objects, Immovable Walls, and Omnipotence (Nicene Guys)
Homogeneity in Heaven and Hell
Does Hell Matter?
The Problem of Pain: A Brief Theology of Theodicy
Why Is God All-Powerful
Cosmological Evil: Some Thoughts
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Or return to Equus Nom Veritas Home.

Biblical Humor: The Serpent

Now the serpent was the most cunning of all the animals that the LORD God had made. The serpent asked the woman, 'Did God really tell you not to eat from any of the trees in the garden? The woman answered the serpent: "We may eat of the fruit of the trees in the garden; it is only about the fruit of the tree in the middle of the garden that God said, 'You shall not eat it or even touch it, lest you die.'" But the serpent said to the woman: "You certainly will not die! No, God knows well that the moment you eat of it your eyes will be opened and you will be like gods who know what is good and what is bad." The woman saw that the tree was good for food, pleasing to the eyes, and desirable for gaining wisdom. So she took some of its fruit and ate it; and she also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it. Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized that they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made loincloths for themselves. (Genesis 3:1-7)

The creation accounts are actually very rich in theology. They offer us, in some ways, a glimpse into eschatology which is different from the glimpses we get from the New Testament. They also relate to us, in a metaphorical and literary (or mythical) manner the story of the Fall of man from his original supernatural state into his present natural one.

Here is the story of the Fall as told in Genesis. It may have been retold as "God made man, blessed him in a supernatural state, and placed him in a paradise. Man could do anything he wanted, so long as he did not do one little ting: eat form the tree of knowledge. As soon as God left the paradise for His one-day vacation, man ate from the tree of knowledge. Man! What a screw-up." While this is important for our theology--we would need neither redemption nor a Redeemer had our race not originally fallen from grace--it is all to easy to miss the humor of this passage.

First, I would like to write a disclaimer about this joke from Genesis. It is subtle. So subtle, in fact, that the writer of Genesis had to give us a hint: a possible (and indeed common) translation of the word "cunning " in the first verse is "subtle." In some ways, though, I think that this subtlety is a part of the joke. The heavenly hosts, which are so far beyond us in intellect, probably got the joke immediately; it took me the better part of 25 years and at least 100 readings of this passage to get it, and yet somehow I thought myself clever when I first understood the joke. I'm sure that the heavenly host got a good laugh at that!

In any case, the joke may begin as follows. What did the Phoenicians, the Babylonians, and the Egyptians all have in common? Two things, really. First, they were the major powers of the Mediterranean world around the time when Genesis would have been written down. Second, every one of them had some kind of myth involving a dragon; in some of the myths (the Babylonian one especially) the dragon was directly involved with the creation of the world; in all of the myths, the dragon was a representative of evil and power. Moreover, in some of these myths (again, the Babylonian myth especially), men were created of the blood (or some other element of) the primordial dragon--and therefore could be considered wicked. In others, men were misled or tricked by the evil dragons in some way.

Now turn to the Genesis account. Eve is tricked into eating of the forbidden fruit by a serpent, and through Eve, Adam. Now, it is true that the serpent has a number of symbolic connotations: they are guardians (in this case, maybe the opposite of a guardian), they are poisonous (man eats of the tree of knowledge and loses the tree of life, and thus dies), they are vengeful and vindictive (thus, a good vehicle for the recently fallen devil to work his vengeful and vindictive mischief). And while we often translate "serpent" as "snake," there is another translation for serpent which is particularly applicable in the mythical context: dragons are a type of serpent.

Thus, Genesis is here telling a joke about--indeed, poking fun at--the creation myths of the other religions of the day. The Babylonians believed that the world was a dragon's corpse, and mankind was born of the dragon's blood--thus implying that mankind was evil, and needed to be governed by a powerful and tyrannical government (Babylon) which would punish the evils of humanity with its cruelty. Man was evil, because man was from the dragon's own heart. Genesis, on the other hand, is saying that man had the story all wrong. He was created from dirt, not blood, and thus was neither necessarily good nor necessarily bad, but was rather a thing in which the seeds of both good and evil could be planted. As for the dragons, well, Genesis tells us to be ware of them, even if they're just snakes after all. The use of the serpent is, in a sense, God's way of saying to man, perhaps with a wink and a grin, "Watch out for those dragons! They'll really lead you astray."

The Theological Importance of a Pronoun

I've long since noticed an aversion to the use of the pronouns "He," "His," and "Him" within feminist circles when making references to God. The more militant (and heretical) groups attempt to inject "she," "her," and "hers" whenever possible and must corresponding replace "Father" with "mother" and "Son" with "daughter" (the last of which becomes especially strange given that Jesus was, in fact, a man). While this practice is thankfully rare (I've only ever heard it loudly and boldly proclaimed by a few shrill voices at the chapel at St Edwards' University), there is a second practice which is more subtle and yet possibly equally as dangerous; it is certainly far more widespread.

This practice is to drop the use of pronouns altogether. How many times has the traditional (and correct) phrasing of (responsoral) prayers during the Mass get changed: for example, I can't tell you how often I have heard "May the Lord accept the sacrifice at your hands for the praise and glory of God's name, for our good, and the good of all God's Church" [emphasis not necessarily mine]. The correct translation according to the Latin Rite Missal, is May the Lord accept the sacrifice at your hands for the praise and glory of his name, for our good, and the good of all his Church" [emphasis mine]." Often, there is also a corresponding shift in phrasing from "Father" and "Son" to "Creator" and "Redeemer;" for good measure, "Holy Spirit" becomes "Sanctifier." This may at first seem a reasonable compromise with the language--we step on no body's toes, and are not interjecting a falsely feminine character to God. We are not at a glance changing God's character to better suits ours. Or are we?

I find that, in fact, we are doing so in several ways. First and foremost, while we are not foisting the terms "mother" and "daughter" into our religious language (and thus into our faith), we are still managing to lose a number of things which are genuine articles of faith. First and foremost, by replacing "Son" with "Redeemer" in every usage, we very quickly forget just Who the Son was. Was the Redeemer someone other that Jesus Christ, our Lord? Catholics (and indeed all true Christians) must answer this in the negative, or be guilty of perpetrating a lie. But Jesus Christ is, as I mentioned, a man. Thus, the term "Son" (and the masculine pronouns) are all accurate*.

Similarly, this Man-who-was-also-God, the Son, referred to the One Who sent Him as "Father." Never once did He refer to the Creator as "mother," "mommy" (Abba literally means "Daddy"), or "generic parent of unspecified type." In Catholic theology, we have a different term for the "Mother of God:" Theotokos. This title has its proper application to a woman, St Mary, whose honor we have proudly and joyfully defended from Nestorians, Protestants, and modernists alike. We hold her in plenty high esteem (the titles "Queen of Heaven," "Queen of the Angels," "Mother of the Church/Faithful," and even simply "Our Lady" all apply). However, she is not God, nor even a goddess.

In actual references to the First Person of the Trinity, the term "Father" is the one which has been handed to us first by the prophets and then by the Son, and so "Father" is indeed the correct term. Within the the Trinity, the Son is "begotten," not "born." Begotten is, again, an action of fathers and not of mothers, whom instead have the unenviable task of birthing. Moreover, the definitions for "beget" ("to generate; to produce as an effect")** as opposed to "birth" ("an act or instance of being born") have to interesting theological implications; whereas as birthing implies a particular time, begetting alone makes sense as an eternal action. Hence, it is not even proper to suggest that "birth" is a better word for the situation that "beget."

Finally, there is something else which lurks behind the total exclusion of the use of pronouns, masculine or feminine. We as Catholic Christians believe in a personal God (a God Who Is three persons). This means that, among other things, we believe in a God to Whom the personal pronouns can, and ought, to be applied. He of course applies the pronouns "I," "My(self)," and "Mine" to himself; His very name, Yahweh, means "I am (Who am)." Similarly, we might apply the second person (personal) pronouns to Him in prayer: "You," "Your(self)," "Yours." Why, then, is there such aversion to applying the third person (personal) pronouns to Him?

Such aversion may spring, on the one hand, from a disdain for imputing any masculine characteristics to God. This is heretical, because at best it rejects revealed truths about God (Who is the Source of all Truth), even if only privately, and at worst implies a private substitution of one's own doctrines. One the other hand, the rejection of masculine personal pronouns may only be because a person has rejected all personal pronouns, which is just as bad: because here, the personal nature of God is rejected. If that personal nature of God has been rejected, then God Himself has been rejected for He is a person. With that rejection of God and His nature comes also a rejection of His grace, His salvation--for a non-personal God cannot love, let alone redeem, the world or anyone in it.

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*Hence also the reason for a male-only priesthood. The priest represents Christ, the Son, Who was also a man.

**Note that neither the Son's existence nor his Godhood is contingent upon the Father's, but His existence as Son is in relationship to the Father, hence Sonship is produced as an effect of Fatherhood.

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If you enjoyed this post, here are some other related posts:

On Language and the Sexes
Priestettes, VOT"F", Reincarnation, Resurrection, and Gnosticism
Of Womin and Min: a Rant
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A Reflection on Corpus Christi Sunday

Yesterday marked the observed celebration of Corpus Christi. I was given the joint pleasures of a good homily and the use of "Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence" in the liturgy*. The Mass itself was, as a result, one of the most uplifting which I have participated in at the Catholic Center, and perhaps the most when the Easter vigil Masses are excluded. It has, moreover, given me something substantial to reflect upon (no pun intended).

The homily took us from the Old Testament blood sacrifices through St Paul's epistle and finally to the last supper, in which the Eucharist is at last instituted. Blood sacrifices during Old Testament times were highly symbolic: blood is life (hence the term "lifeblood"). This are at last fulfilled by the life-giving Blood, that is, the Most Precious Blood spilled by our Lord, which is physically present in the Eucharist.

And here is the high point of the homily which I heard, a reminder of what we believe as Catholics. Yes, be believe in the Real Presence; the bread and wine are transformed substantially (transubstantiation) into the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of the Lord Jesus Christ. We should be in total awe of this. As the hymn which we sang soon after the homily notes

"At his feet the six-winged seraph;
cherubim with sleepless eye,
veil their faces to the Presence,
as with ceaseless voice they cry,
'Alleluia, alleluia!
Alleluia, Lord Most High!' "

The Seraphim and Cherubim, you may recall, are said to be the highest of the orders of angels, those among the celestial hosts who are closest to God. They are, in short, the highest of all created beings (with the exception of Man redeemed and glorified), so high above us in our "mortal flesh." Yet even these must veil their faces in the presence of God. How is it, then, that we are so often disrespectful of the same Presence? Perhaps it is because our ancestors also did not recognize Him when "as of old on earth he stood, Lord of lords in human vesture." We mortal men could not recognize Him standing before us in flesh and blood then, and it seems that we cannot do so now.

So shows the study done by Georgetown University's Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate (CARA), which was cited during the homily. Among other things, the study found that only 57% of Catholics believe in the Real Presence. Moreover, if numbers matter, Catholics find it to be only the third most important of the sacraments, after baptism and marriage. Moreover, only about 2/3 of Catholic fell that the Eucharist is "very important." It's hard to imagine that these statistics and the hymn are referring to the same thing.

Is it merely poor catechesis which is driving this trend? Or have we become so irreverent, so unbelieving as we are caught in the throes of postmodernism? And yet, so many of us sit in bored silence, or fail to attend at all, as "Christ our God to earth descendeth, our full homage to demand." Do we respond to this demand, offering Him our reverence, or obedience, our belief? Or do we let our faith be as a dead thing separate from our daily lives, sperate from the faith ouf our fathers, from the teachings of our Holy Mother Church?

Worse still is it to treat our faith as a thing which we can modify to suit ourselves, and not one which is grounded in Truth. Some certainly do, acting as people whose beliefs become lost and confused in the storm of postmodernism. Let us pray that we too will not be lost "as the Light of Light descendeth from the realms of endless day, that the powers of hell may vanish as the darkness clears away."

*As a bonus, here is a good choral arrangement of "Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence."

Reflection on Some Words of Wisdom

"There is a jealous ear that overhears everything, not even a murmur of complaint escapes it. So beware of uttering frivolous complaints, restrain your tongue from finding fault; even what is said in secret has repercussions, and a lying mouth deals death to the soul" (Wisdom 1:10-11).

Protestants--particularly fundamentalists--may feel free to ignore this post, since your canon was assembled without Wisdom. For everyone else, these words truly do contain some wisdom which should speak to us (and indeed chastise us) today. We live in a culture which values "the right to privacy," which is in reality a secondary right at best. We like to think that the stuff we say or do behind closed doors when nobody else is around doesn't matter. If no one else is involved, or alternatively if everybody who is involved is a consenting adult, then it really isn't anybody else's business but ours.

Not so, contends Wisdom, not so. Even private sins can have public consequences, for if I secretly harbor hatred of my neighbor, then my interactions with him can't really be friendly. We all know this from experience, because we all have a few of those people in our lives who we just don't get along with (or who just don't get along with us). Might this conflict be fed through our going home and stewing in our anger or hatred? If I harbor resentment in my heart against my neighbor, then my actions towards him may be neither fair nor just, and he (being wronged) may go on to wrong another. Thus my "private disagreement" has very public consequences--the whole community may be affected.

Worse still is when I share this private resentment with a friend, and bring him into that resentment. An unkind words, a malevolent whisper of the other's failings, and a reputation may be sunk, perhaps unjustly. And for what? Do I actually feel any better about the other person as a result? Or about myself? Indeed, I probably do not. I have, however, managed to break the eighth commandment, and moreover may find myself trapped by at least one of the deadly sins: detraction is, in St Thomas Aquinas' ontology, a daughter of wrath (loquatiousness and scurrility, on the other hand, are daughters of gluttony, thoughtlessness of lust, and discontentment of pride, if memory serves).

The philosopher Robert P. George noted in his Clash of Orthodoxies that "The acts of private parties—indeed, sometimes even the apparently private acts of private parties—can and do have public consequences." This can be seen in the most heated debates in America--those of "social issues" such as abortion and gay "marriage." It can also be seen in the reaction of so many to the Church's teachings on contracetion, divorce, and remarriage. None of these issues are good from a societal perspective, which becomes especially clearwhen the sugar coating of "equal rights," the right of conscience, and especially "the right to privacy" removed and the issue at heart is examined more clearly. Nor are any of them really any good for any individuals within society.

Moreover, we know that they are not good. So how have we as a society managed to convince ourselves that they are? We lie. We lie to oursleves, saying "it's for the best." We lie to each other, saying that "we'll all be happier this way." And what do our lies bring? First a divorce rate of 50%, then a rejection of the eqxclusive nature of marriage, and then finally a denial of its value all together. First a removal of one primary end to sex (procreation), resulting in the forgetfullness of the other (unification), and finally enslavement to the secondary end (pleasure); the relationships become casual (denying unification as an end to sex), then when the contraception fails we fall back on abortion. I contend that our guilty consciences and need to fulfill what soon becomes an urge, and apetite, leads at last to a loss of even the secondary end of sex--the pleasure becomes fleeting, and then at last leave, with only a hunger in its place.

Our lies have attempted to slay our consciences; they have nearly achieved the intended result, but the consequences are damning. The death of our souls is sure to follow.

The Dilemma of a Blue Jay

The month of may ushered in that transition period from spring to summer in Austin. Most of the trees were now fully-leafed, and plants entered into that month of full bloom (and allergies). For me, a new surprise arrived as well: a group of blue jays began to nest in the trees near my apartment. This was a welcome addition at first: the birds are beautifully colored, and fun to watch.

It wasn't until day began to break steadily earlier that I noticed the other side of these birds. Blue begin their calls when the sun rises: which these days, is some time around six in the morning. And what annoying sounds these things make. Worse, they like to perch on the branch just outside of my window, so I get the full force of their squawking. I thus am forced to wake up at around 6 in the morning, seven days a week. I have witnessed them harassing other birds for sport, and their squawking has an almost taunting manner about it. They tend to jump back from the near branch when I step outside, silent for a moment before resuming from just out of reach.

It is amazing that, for all of their outer beauty, these birds can have such a loathsome voice. But is that not the case for a great many people, too? How many times do we meet an attractive or well-dressed or well-mannered person who, for all of their outer beauty, hides some ugliness which comes out when you begin to know them (or even before then, too often). As an aside, it's fun to contrast this with a robin--a plump bird of plainer plumage whose singing can brighten any day--a plain bird with an inner beauty. These birds really bring out the age-old words of wisdom that one ought not to judge a book by its cover. The same is true not only for birds, but for people.

On a more philosophical note, I might press the question further. Since I have witnessed some sort of inner disharmony or ugliness in every other person, even if in a faint amount, I know that the law must apply to me as well. Within Christian circles, we would call this "sin," and of it, we are all guilty. It's easy to see the fault in others, but we should each know that the fault lies in us as well. This is perhaps why people especially dislike others who share with them a common fault.

For the people I meet, I can only ask for a change of heart (theirs or mine?), and say a prayer on their behalf. For our faults we may all wish each other harm--we each deserve hell in the eyes of someone else. We must ask our common Judge to show mercy and lift the sentence which we deserve. As for the blue jays, I wish they could be trained to silence. This is unlikely, and so I am left with a dilemma: do I go with the A1M1 Thompson or the MP40 "Maschinenpistole" (don't worry, I don't intend to kill the birds, only to scare them to silence)?

Book Review: "The Death of a Pope"

Ecclesiastical thrillers are few and far between. Too often, they take the form of Dan Brown's work: popular, perhaps, controversial certainly, and of little if any value in terms of their actual content. Such works tend to be completely detrimental to those who read them, with banal dialogues, shoddy morals, and themes which tend at best to push readers into distrusting religions in general and the Church in particular--and at worst to view the Church as a lying, evil, and secretive organization whose sole concern is its own wealth, power, and influence.

Thus, Piers Paul Read's "The Death of a Pope" comes as a breath of fresh air within the genre. Read masterfully brings together an eclectic blend of characters, mostly Catholics and ex-Catholics. Within their interactions can be found many of the major themes of tension between traditionalists and progressives, as well as faithful and "cultural" (or lapsed) Catholics. These interaction play out between three of the main characters: Kate Ramsey, a reporter with a theology degree who represents the lapsed Catholics; her uncle, Fr Luke ("Lolo") Scott, a traditionalist; and the laicized former Jesuit priest, Juan Uriarte, a progressive Catholic.

The central tension between these groups is the differing views concerning sexual morality. The views of Fr Luke and Kate are constantly clashing over this topic. For example, a discussion of how to aid the plight of the folks in Africa quickly devolves into an argument about condoms:

'And AIDS,' said Kate. 'All those people dying of AIDS and...' She stops.
Luke knows why she has stopped. 'And the Church's ban on the use of condoms?'
She hesitates, as if she had wanted to avoid the subject. but now that it has been raised, must go on. 'It really is difficult for someone of my generation to understand it. Even Catholics.'

This leads to a brief discussion of Thomas Aquinas' natural law regarding sex. At the climax of this dialogue, Kate lay the complaint: "Secondary ends. Primary ends. These theological niceties don't mean much when it comes to love." Here Read puts forth one of the primary challenges of the Church today. Modernity does not need to answer the argument put forth by the Church in matters of morality (and particularly sexual morality), because although the Church's argument is correct, it is not presented in a manner which can compete with the temptations of a moment.

The dispassionate arguments of the Church fathers and doctors have much to say to the people of today--but they often don't meet modern man where he is. The Church certainly needs her philosophers to interpret and apply the gospels, but she also needs her popularizers to spread it amongst the people in a dynamic way which engages and inspires. One thinks, for example, of the relationship between Pope John Paul the Great and Christopher West. The former presented his Theology of the Body as a positive answer from the Church to the turmoil of the sexual revolution, the latter has made it more readily palatable to the average teenager or young adult--the ages at which the temptations of the sexual revolution are often the strongest.

The logical conclusion of the sexual revolution is revealed by the character of Juan Uriarte. While Fr Scott views sex as a means to unification with both the spouse and God whose primary end is procreation and whose secondary end is pleasure, and Kate sees it as a means to unification to ones lover alone with the sole end of pleasure and with the side-effect of procreation, Uriarte has a different view of sex.

'Sex is a human need,' [Uriarte] says. 'Man has need of a woman, and a woman of a man. To fulfill that need cannot be sinful....It is no good telling people that they cannot be gay or divorced or remarried or living with a partner. They are what they are. And there are particular situations in which everything must be provisional. For example, the guerilla army in El Salvador, the FMLN, no one knew if they would live beyond the next day, but the men had their needs, and those needs were met.'

Sex is reduced from a union to a mere pleasure, a need which must be fulfilled. Further, it becomes a right to have that need fulfilled, one which implies duties for another to fulfill it. When Kate asked Uriarte if that need was met willingly by the women, Uiarte responds

'You know, they had been indoctrinated by the Church and by their mothers to see sex not as a need....But when the situation was explained to them, they understood.'

The parallel with modern attitudes towards sex could not be much more obvious. The logical conclusion to he sexual revolution is not that sex is good, but that it is an object, a desire which needs satisfaction. Men and especially women become objects to fulfill each others desires, and not other persons. And as for love as being justification for sex--the battle cry often repeated today--this is seldom actually believed or practiced. After Uriarte admits that he was amongst those men in the FMLN, Kate asks him if he ever fell in love. Uriarte replies, 'The conditions were not suited to Hollywood romances.'

Kate, meanwhile, begins to fall in love with Uriarte, and he seems to reciprocate this love. Kate thus falls into one of the unfortunate though common fallacies of post-sexual-revolution thought: that Uriarte, a man who has used countless women in his past to satisfy a desire, an urge, somehow sees her differently. This mistake is not rectified when she meets Uriarte's former (and, indeed, current) mistress and his bastard son. When questioned about the mistress (Lucia), Uriarte simply replies, '[Lucia and their son] are in the present only because of the past whereas you ... you are the present.'

Even this is not enough for Kate to see the light: Uriarte is indeed using her. While she is knowingly sent to carrying out his plot, praying that she will be given the strength to remain faithful to his trust, Uriarte is already having other thoughts.

Thinking of Kate as he sits o the sofa, Uriarte smiles. How pleasing it had been to discover that the proud young woman--so earnest, so professional, so reserved--should so wholly abandon herself, heart and soul....He could not now remember whether or not he had said he loved her....a pressing affair with a British journalist could never be of any consequence--or could be of consequence only if it formed part of his plan.

As for the traditionalists, those faithful to the Tradition and Teaching of the CHurch, Read illustrates concisely the great temptation which faces them. It is often hard to speak the Truth, because the Truth often holds unpleasant consequences for those who reject it. Father Luke Scott's muses about how his own style of preaching has changed in response to the lifestyles of his beloved niece (Kate) and her brother (Charlie).

During her adolescence, Kate had lost her faith. Was it because of sex? The Church taught that outside of marriage, it was a mortal sin and those who died unrepentant in a state of mortal sin went to Hell. No one believed that any more--neither the sinfulness of consensual sex nor the existence of Hell....When Kate had told him about her love life, Luke found that he could not bring himself to talk of damnation. He dropped the role of the strict priest for that of the worldly-wise uncle.

Hell--and therefore also sin--is a difficult subject to broach, because everybody sins and many people sin constantly and unrepentantly. That some people are destined for Hell is a fact, though by hiding that fact from the world, it is possible that even more people may be doomed. This can be compared with Read's thoughts about Hell, from the title essay of his collection "Hell and Other Destinations":

'What are the four last things to be ever remembered?' asked Question 332 [of the Penny Catechism]. 'The four last things to be ever remembered are Death, Judgment, Hell, and Heaven.' What was Hell? Eternal Punishment. What would lead to eternal punishment? Dying unrepentant in a state of mortal sin. What sins were mortal? Murder, adultery--and choosing not to go to Mass on Sunday....These 'four last things ever to be remembered' appear to have been forgotten in today's Catholic Church. Why in particular are we so rarely warned that we run a real risk of spending eternity in torment?...There has never been, to my knowledge, any clear [and authoritative] and unambiguous statement...that the Church has changed its mind on the question of Hell; yet...it would seem to a dispassionate observer that there is no longer any real belief among contemporary Catholics in the last item of the Nicean Creed, 'life everlasting.'

Throughout the book, a number of other themes are touched upon, from the War on Terror[ism] to the ordination of women, and from conscience to the radical ideology (and revolutions) of liberation theology. Most of those modern topics of tension between the orthodox and the progressive (or lapsed) Catholics are touched upon at least briefly. All of this is set against a plot against the papacy. The plot's suspense made this book a page-turner, a delightfully fun Read. I could not put this one down.

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If you like this post and want to read more, here are some related posts:
A Short Review of The Third Testament
Review of By What Authority?
A Sort of Review of Chesterton's Heretics
A Review of Walter M Miller's "A Canticle for Leibowitz" (Nicene Guys)
The Gargoyle Code:  A Short Review
The Gargoyle Code: A More Substantive Review
The Wizard Knight:  A Sort of Review
Disorientation: A Review in Four Parts (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4)
My review of Three to Get Married (Nicene Guys)
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