Wednesday, July 21, 2010

What is the Purpose of Morality? Part 2: Marriage, Chastity, and Sexual Morality

In my previous post for Catholic America Today, concerning morality, I laid out the purpose of morality. In doing so, I argued that it could not be reduced to a list of moral precepts, but that the list of moral precepts is a necessary part of it. Today, I want to look at marriage, which is in a sense of microcosm of morality. I should add on another note that if this post seems a bit long, it is because this is to be my last post for a while, since I am leaving on vacation.
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We enter a marriage with at least some intent to grow in our love for the other person. It is true that we generally already do love the other person (as a possible counter-example, take arranged marriages). Yet, the point of a marriage is not as the expression that we already love the person, but that we intend to grow to love him or her more deeply. In the teachings of the Church, marriage has the two-fold purpose of procreation and fostering intimacy. But there is a right way and a wrong way to do both (or either) or these things. Hence, for example, marriage is exclusive, because the ability to become more permanently intimate is impaired in the presence of a polygamous (or polyandrous) relationship.

As an example of this, take Mr Walker Percy's "Lost in the Cosmos." During one chapter entitled "A Space Odyssey, Part 2," Mr Percy suggests (in a tongue-in-cheek manner) that for a long-term space-flight, the ideal arrangement was one man and three women, because the man could pair with each woman in succession (and thus never grow bored), while the two "left-over" women could pair up. This was presented as the "trousered ape" approach to sexuality: what is expedient, self-satisfying? Yet, the reader can't help but notice the flaw in the argument: is the man only using each of the three women in succession (and they him)? How is the "rejected" or "left-over" woman to feel, especially once the man has had relations with her and then turned to another? After several "rotations" of the women, will any really love this man, or indeed each other?

I answer that they will not, that they will ultimately grow weary of him, bitter of his boredom and use, and that they will become jealous of each other to boot. And as for the man, how will he really love them if he can put each one away as soon as he grows bored with her, or upset? Such is not love, but use, and no intimacy may grow of such an arrangement save perhaps sexual intimacy, and this will ultimately be shallow too. In the words of Professor J Budziszewski, they will not so much be intimate with each other as using each other's bodies for mutual masturbation. This is not a condition which fosters a loving relationship between persons.

Thus, polygamy can be reduced to a sort of "serial monogamy," which hinders (if not prohibiting) love from growing between the spouses. This is the nature of the exclusivity of the marriage, but it also is of the permanence of the marriage. A dissolvable marriage will be dissolved, and we have seen in modern times that this is indeed what occurs. Some people may complain that they feel "trapped" in their marriage and "imprisoned" by their family, and ask how this can be the loving choice. Perhaps the answer is that in our fallen and sinful nature, a seeming trap is what may be needed for us to grow in love.

Consider, for example, your "first" family, that is, the one into which you were born and by which you were raised. If your childhood was anything like mine, you had two parents and some siblings. At the very least you had a guardian. Now, there were many times when this arrangement might feel like a "trap" to you, as one of the children: you are "stuck" living with these people for many years to come. You live with them, with all their imperfections, with all their annoying habits, with all their demands upon you and the grievances associated therewith. There will be quarrels and tantrums, hurt feelings and whatnot, but after so many years living together, do you not find that you love your siblings for all that? And your parents? I can certainly say that I love my brothers more for having lived with them for so long. If, then, the family is a sort of prison or trap, perhaps it is only to prevent one member from leaving at the first sign of unpleasantry, much to his or her own loss.

Indeed, the beauty of the family in general and marriage in particular is that these things force you to get to know the other people. They do, ideally, bring out the best parts of each member of the family. Indeed, the spouses especially are able to manifest their "good side" to each other. They also may at times manifest their "bad" sides, and in a way which is not known as well to even very close friends. Every person wants his good side to be known--however successful of unsuccessful he may be at showing it to the world--but very few want their bad side to be widely known. In marriage, these secrets become known to another--whatever private sins the husband may have, whatever the private vices of the wife may be, but also his tenderheartedness or her moral toughness--these are revealed to the spouse as a foreshadowing of their revelation during the particular and general judgments.

It is not difficult to see how love may grow between the spouses when they discover something "good" about each other. However, this is not always the case. Alas! We are fallen creatures all, filled with sins, we can be jealous or greedy, lustful or lazy or gluttonous, and filled with wrath, to say nothing of pride. Each of these things may contribute, in its own manner, to our downfall. The husband may develop a new hobby which brings him joy, much to the chagrin of the wife who is envious of the time she "loses" to this newfound activity. Or the wife's good humor may catch the husband in a bad mood and make it worse. The bad side of one spouse may be brought to light by the good side of another, if inadvertently.

My point, in bringing this up, is that the "bad" side of each spouse is what makes him or her more difficult to love. The nature of a marriage--that it is lifelong--forces each spouse to try to love the other in spite of those bad habits, those sins and vices. In this way, too, marriage helps love to develop--indeed, becomes a sort of "proving ground" for love. It was G K Chesterton who once wrote that "Love means loving the unlovable - or it is no virtue at all." Thus, marriage helps us to better learn how to love by giving us the opportunity to develop a since of charity, of selfless love. This in turn is the root of agape, the love of God for every person; by better loving our spouses, we may in turn learn how to more completely love our neighbor.

If love is kindled by joy, it is also tempered by adversity. This is true of all loves, but most especially of charity, agape. As St Paul wrote to the Corinthians,
"My brethren, count it all joy, when you shall fall into divers  temptations;  Knowing that the trying of your faith worketh patience.  [4] And patience hath a perfect work; that you may be perfect and  entire, failing in nothing.  But if any of you want wisdom, let him ask  of God, who giveth to all men abundantly, and upbraideth not; and it  shall be given him" (1 Corinthians 13:4-7)
Love "is not provoked to anger." It "beareth all things." It does not deal perversely nor envy. That St Paul includes these points in his epistles implies that we will at times be tempted to them. Love overcomes these, but we must be willing to suffer them if we are to be strengthened in our love. The hardships are a result of sin, on the one hand; but on the other hand, God permits them to help build us up, in this case to help build up love between spouses, and ultimately between neighbors. Saint James says something similar in the opening to his epistle:
"My brethren, count it all joy, when you shall fall into divers  temptations;  Knowing that the trying of your faith worketh patience.  [4] And patience hath a perfect work; that you may be perfect and  entire, failing in nothing.  But if any of you want wisdom, let him ask  of God, who giveth to all men abundantly, and upbraideth not; and it  shall be given him" James 1:2-5).
Now come the question: how does this relate back to morality? I earlier argued against polygamy and polyandry in the case of a marriage--not to mention adultery--and have now argued for the longevity of marriage (indeed, it is a life-long commitment). These are, I believe, two big points in the Catholic moral teaching concerning marriage. I believe, moreover, that much of the moral teaching in marriage is centered around that fruit of the holy Spirit which is perhaps the least loved by people today. C.S. Lewis once wrote of chastity that
"Chastity is the most unpopular of the Christian virtues.  There  is no getting away from it:  the old Christian rule is, 'Either  marriage, with complete faithfulness to your partner, or else total  abstinence.'  Now this is so difficult and so contrary to our instinct,  that obviously either Christianity is wrong or our sexual instinct, as  it now is, has gone wrong"

There are two sides, then, to Lewis' analysis of Chastity: one within and one without marriage. I've given arguments for what I believe are two of the three big points to "complete faithfulness to your partner," but none at all for chastity outside of marriage. Before I turn to chastity outside of marriage, I should take a moment to address the last major point involving chastity within marriage: contraception. Most Protestant denominations once taught, and the Catholic Church has always and still does teach, that contraception is immoral.



It was not until the middle of the last century that the Protestants really began to waver on this point, and slowly abandoned their teachings concerning contraception; indeed, many Catholics expected the Church to follow suit, and so preempted her in doing likewise. Much to their surprise and chagrin, the Church did not waver, and n 1968 Pope Paul VI issued his famous (or infamous) encyclical, Humanae Vitae. The Holy Father explained in his encyclical that contraception offended against chastity, against the unity between spouses, against God's command to "be fruitful and multiply" (see Genesis 1:28), and indeed against God's design for us.

"This particular doctrine, often expounded by the magisterium of  the Church, is based on the inseparable connection, established by God,  which man on his own initiative may not break, between the unitive  significance and the procreative significance which are both inherent to  the marriage act.  The reason is that the fundamental nature of the  marriage act, while uniting husband and wife in the closest intimacy,  also renders them capable of generating new life—and this as a result of  laws written into the actual nature of man and of woman. And if each of  these essential qualities, the unitive and the procreative, is  preserved, the use of marriage fully retains its sense of true mutual  love and its ordination to the supreme responsibility of parenthood to  which man is called....Men rightly observe that a conjugal act imposed  on one's partner without regard to his or her condition or personal and  reasonable wishes in the matter, is no true act of love, and therefore  offends the moral order in its particular application to the intimate  relationship of husband and wife. If they further reflect, they must  also recognize that an act of mutual love which impairs the capacity to  transmit life which God the Creator, through specific laws, has built  into it, frustrates His design which constitutes the norm of marriage,  and contradicts the will of the Author of life. Hence to use this divine  gift while depriving it, even if only partially, of its meaning and  purpose, is equally repugnant to the nature of man and of woman, and is  consequently in opposition to the plan of God and His holy will."

Eight years earlier, a then little-known Polish bishop named Karol Wojtyla--the man who would become our beloved Pope John Paul the Great--had published a book of his own on the subject, entitled Love and Responsibility, which was the beginning of what would later become known as the Theology of the Body. He uses some of the same arguments as does Pope Paul VI, but focuses much of his attention to the inseparability of the unitive and procreative aspects of sexual intercourse, and of the procreative and intimacy aspects of marriage. Throughout the book, he opposes to love not hate, but rather use.

Contraception prevent a person from making a free and unreserved gift of himself to--or receiving the same full and unreserved gift from--his spouse. This wounds against not only the procreative purpose of the marital act, but also therefore against the unitive purpose. In contracepting, each spouse is in effect saying to the other, "I make of myself a gift to you, but not my whole self. I will go a great distance for you, but only so far. I love you, but only so much." That this is antithetical to married love should be obvious to anyone who has recited the marriage, forswearing all others for her lover, for his beloved. If even this love is to be deliberately limited by the choice of the spouses, if they cannot, by choice, love each other unreservedly, then whom can they love?

The purpose of chastity, then, is to fight off that sin which reduces another person into an object for use: lust. Chastity is to order us to love the other person, and to subdue our own appetites so that we will be free to love. Morality, in the context of marriage, is the aide to chastity; the moral precepts regarding sex are the guidelines to being chaste. Morality, then, is an aspect of the truth concerning marriage, and helps to reveal the purpose of marriage. In a sense, then, morality reveals to us the truth about marriage, and in turn about ourselves. "And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free" (John 8:32).

Finally, I should say a word about chastity and morality as they relate to people who are not yet married. The moral precepts regarding sex outside of marriage may be summarized as "complete abstinence until married." They demand abstinence from sexual intercourse (fornication), from masturbation (self-abuse), from pornography (fornication in the heart). Chastity goes further by insisting that we should not only not do these things, but also that we should enjoy the blessings which come from being single while anticipating the joys which come from marriage. By this, I mean that while abstinence is well and good, it is only the commandment--the precept, an item on the "do not" list--and not the fullness of chastity.

Rather, chastity demands that we find another outlet for love. It involves developing filios ("brotherly" love) and estorge (affection), and especially agape (charity, total and unlimited), not merely eros (sexual love). We are to form friendships and develop the other aspects of intimacy (e.g. emotional, spiritual, etc), both within marriage and before it. We are to form romantic relationships only to help us discern marriage, and not merely as a "status symbol," a "social thing," or to help us "fill in a hole" in our lives (be it sexual or otherwise). Indeed, one of the first questions asked by the priest of each person who is in preparation for marriage is, "Could you see yourself being happy [and stable] outside of a marriage?" If the answer is no, some counseling is generally needed before the couple is "fit" for marriage.

As to the moral precepts themselves, these are all set against separating the pleasures of sex from the purposes--procreative, unitive--to the detriment of all. Sin is habit-forming. meaning that once a certain habit of sin is begun, it is difficult to break free of this. Begin to have sex outside of marriage, and there is already a tendency to separate pleasure from union and procreation, physical intimacy from love, and sex from commitment. How much harder is it for a person who has begun to have sex without commitment to treat marriage as a commitment? How much harder is it to make a true--and total--gift of oneself in the marital act after marriage if one has practice in doing the opposite by having sexual relations before marriage? Practice tends to make one consistent: if a person "practices" sexual intercourse while unmarried, and thus practices "meaningless" sex before marriage, will the intercourse suddenly take on new meaning for him once married? I answer that it will not.



By the very nature of non-marital sex, it cannot be a full giving of the self to the other. True, a person may give a sort of gift of himself to his partner, and may even mean it. But so long as there is no commitment, he will hold back, and especially the woman will hold back a part of herself for fear of becoming an unwed (and too often, abandoned) mother. This holding back will become a habit, each person will associate this little bit of "self-reserve" with the act of sex, and so he will have greater difficulty in making a total and unreserved gift of himself after marriage. In my previous post about morality, I stated that

We each owe to God our whole selves. That means our spirit--mind,  soul, will, intellect--and our bodies. Our bodies are a part of us,  they are a part of our selves; this is a doctrine of the Faith, held  over against the Gnostic claims that we are merely spirits which are  trapped in (or which use) our bodies. Our bodies are us, the are the  physical manifestation of our selves; or as St Thomas Aquinas puts it,  "the body is the form of the soul."


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Originally Published on the Catholic America Today blogs.

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Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Nicene Guys--Christian Society: Justice, Mercy, Solidarity


One of the most common mistakes I've heard made by my fellow Christians is the idea that the highest aspiration of a "Christian society" is that it be a just society, that is, one which proclaims "justice for all." We therefore have such things as the "social justice" movement which mistakenly believes that it is there to promote justice, and nothing more, or pro-life groups which would be more properly classified as anti-abortion groups, or Christian groups whose interest is in protecting this or that set of rights. In point of fact, even the pre-Christian pagans recognized justice as a virtue: along with prudence, temperance, and fortitude it became one of the cardinal virtues. Therefore, the "just" society is a society which even pagans ought to--and sometimes did--strive to achieve. Thus, by all means we as Christians are called to work for a more just society--one in which to each is given his due, and all rights are recognized--and this may be the best society on the level of government and social institutions.
However, as Christians, we are called to go beyond justice. In his The New World of Faith, the late Avery Cardinal Dulles wrote that

"Solidarity calls for justice for all, but is not satisfied with the demands of justice. Human society cannot be successfully organized on the basis of rights alone. In the good society, justice needs to [be] motivated and supplemented by love. In the absence of love, human relations will be plagued by hostility, recrimination, and endless litigation. In some cases people may at length obtain what they can prove they have a right to receive, but it will be given grudgingly, rather than freely. In love, we freely do good to others, regardless of their just deserts."
Herein lies the dilemma for the Christian.

Continue Reading at the Nicene Guys site.

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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 Musing)

Monday, July 19, 2010

On Criticism

In their How to Read a Book, the philosophers Mortimer Adler and Charles van Doren argue repeatedly that reading a book correctly and thoroughly can be nearly as much effort--indeed, sometimes even more effort--than writing one. This is a point which applies validly to shorter works, be they newspaper columns, magazine articles, or even blog posts. To be fair, not all things written require this level of reading--some deserve only a cursory reading--but it is interesting to note that they include a chapter about how to criticize a book (or other written work) fairly, and that this section is placed in the part of their book concerning analytical reading. Analytical reading, incidentally, is classified by these sages as the hardest form of reading for a single work, surpassed only by syntoptical reading, in which many works are read together and compared and contrasted with each other in a sort of conversation between authors.

I mention this, because I've noticed that their are two forms which criticisms of my blog posts take: thought-out and spontaneous. The former are generally very helpful, and even at times lead to a sort of conversation of posts (as most recently between Mr Nathanael Blake and I), or alternatively they can lead to a combox conversation. Note that "thought-out" doesn't always mean extensive, or even that a lot of thought was put into the criticism; only that the critic had something worth saying and said it. Sometimes this is positive, affirmative, and in agreement; other times such comments are negative, dissenting, or in disagreement. Either way, such comments (or replies) may be properly called "constructive criticism," "dialogue," or even "debate," and I generally appreciate them (or at the least try to), as I suppose do most other writers. At times, I've even listened a bit to the advice or admonishments given, as can be attested by those who have, for example, offered actual corrections to posts (e.g. I've made a "unfair" charge which was not supported by obvious experiential evidence or a link or other citation, received a correction, and retracted the charge or found some evidence to back my claims).

Unfortunately, the "spontaneous" criticisms are so much easier to make, and indeed are made with nearly equal frequency. The article may have required an hour or longer to write (not counting the musing, mulling, and general philosophizing leading up to it). The criticism, however, require only two minutes to write--90 seconds, if the time to read the post is excluded--and is utterly useless. I'm not here referring to the "encouraging" posts--"I liked this," "great post," etc.--but to the "angries," the "brawlers," the "posers," and the "aliens" who plague the comboxes (and often emails) of any blogger or other online writer. I'm referring to the types immortalized by the xkcd comics--"Someone is wrong on the internet!"--whose comments range from strange and incoherent to just plain nasty.

Lest there be any question as to what constitutes a poorly-thought-out, spontaneous, and indeed borderline laughable comment, example abound. I'll give a few. I'm referring to the overly-sensitive Catholic who complains about the uncharitable nature of a pair of pieces I wrote concerning anti-Catholicism in Protestant circles, posts which, if not exactly lauded by my Protestant friends, at least got their version of an imprimatur: that is, none of them saw anything particularly offensive in these posts. I'm referring to the person--presumably Protestant--who complained about my last post that it had a "lack of fact an use in [sic.] scripture [sic.] to support the cathecish [sic.] is really going on a limb." This was followed by an even more ill-supported rant against the Catholic Church: a subject not really addressed in the post itself. This, on a Catholic site, written by a Catholic for a Catholic audience. Bonus points for this as-yet anonymous commenter who complained that I remain anonymous, despite the fact that my name is clearly printed in the biography section of this site! I'm referring to the person who reads a piece of speculative eschatology--complete with a smattering of Bible verses, citations from the Catechism, and quotes from popes, theologians, and saints--and can come up with nothing more to say than, "If your [sic.] reading this article please open your bible [sic.] to Matthew and start reading the Scripture. I don't believe the Bible supports anything discussed here in this article." Bonus points to this example, since he felt the need to follow that up with, "I would say you need to open the bible [sic.] and read it. God shows us the way through the Word." Last but not least, I'm referring to the atheist--formerly a friend--who severed our friendship with a series of screeds culminating in a pointless diatribe against Christ, Christians, and my own personal tastes in philosophy.

I'm not against all criticism, by any stretch. I'm not writing this as a plea that my critics--indeed, critics in general--just shut up, but rather that they spend more time actually thinking about what they want to say before saying it. A distinct pattern which emerges from these examples is not even necessarily their lack of charity (some are written with the best of intentions), but a lack of tact. Equally lacking is any particular concrete examples: such "spontaneous" criticisms are almost inevitably generally and not particular. "You should read your Bible" may be a true statement--I think that the Bible ought to be more widely read, and I try to read a little each day--but it is utterly useless as criticism about an article, especially if the article is supported by passages from the Bible (or if it is exegesis from the Bible). "This post seems filled with invectives" is not helpful if there are no actual invectives to be found, or if said "invectives" are not so much invectives as observations (not necessarily conclusions) based on actual everyday experiences, such as that there exist people who are anti-theistic (as opposed to people who simply don't believe in God). I know that I can sometimes be a bit gruff, but this is not the same thing as abrasive, and it really shouldn't be treated in the same way.

My point, then, is that there are good and useful critiques--criticism which may be of actual use to the writer--and bad critiques, which are almost inevitable worthless. I appreciate useful criticism--sometimes called "constructive criticism"--when it is thoughtfully presented and specific. On the other hand, a vague statement about how "this article annoys me" are not really useful to anyone. The former type of criticism requires some thought, the latter often does not, so think before you comment.

Friday, July 16, 2010

What is the Purpose of Morality? Part 1: Right Living


Note: I've begun blogging for Catholic America Today at the invitation of Mr Vernon Hee, an administrator of that site. The actual conditions for blogging seem to be, write something about Catholicism and/or the culture war. Since this is a large subset of what I do all the time here and on my Nicene Guys site, a great deal of the material I write here and there is (and will continue to be) just imported into the CAT blogs. However, I've decided to make an effort at occasionally writing feature articles for CAT; this is one such article. The whole thing was originally published here.
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A complaint often aired against Christians in general and Catholics in particular is about morality. In my dealings with Protestants, I have heard many say something along the lines of "I just want a relationship with Jesus; the Church gets in the way of all that." Then there are the enlightened glitteratis--most especially the elites from the entertainment industry--who claim that they want "spirituality" as opposed to "religion." When they are saying "religion," they mean all the rituals and practices, but they also often mean the moral precepts, too. In short, both the anti-Church Protestants and the anti-religious secularists want the "spiritualism" of religion without the actual practices: they want their beliefs to place no demands on their lifestyles.

It's easy to consider the "moral teachings" to be the hard part of any religion, because these govern how we ought to live. Religions inevitably come with morality, and so to avoid morality, people avoid religion. Alternatively, they enter into the barest of religions, for example a "personal relationship" with Jesus (itself a good thing) which is free of any demands or restrictions, calling this a more "pure" relationship. Their justification is that the "restrictive" morality gets in the way of this relationship, it hinders their ability to love God. This is somewhat akin to those who say that marriage hinders the ability to love a spouse, because with marriage comes a certain set of rules (e.g. the exclusivity of the spouses, the mutuality of their possessions and their lives, "for better or for worse," etc.). Thus, marriage--itself a topic of morality--is in a sense an analogy for morality, a topic which I attempt to address next week.

There are two great mistakes which are often made regarding morality. The first is to reduce it to a mere list of commandments, "though shall..." and "thou shalt not..." This is by far the more common mistake, and it is the mistake made by those who want "spirituality" without religion, or Christ without the Church. The second mistake is almost as deadly, but is far less common and yet also more subtle. This is to say that because morality is more these "do's" and "don'ts," therefore the do's and don'ts do not matter. This is the heresy more often embraced by liberals within the Church. Although these mistakes are in some ways opposites of each other, they nonetheless has the same result, which is that the actual moral precepts are abandoned as irrelevant.

As to reducing morality to a list, this is a mistake, because this is to make morality into a set of restrictions on how we must behave--be it in deed, word, or thought--when the real purpose of morality is to be our guide to right living. When I say right living, I mean that morality underlies both how we are meant to live in private, and how we are to relate to others, and how we are to relate to God. The law--that is, the lists of moral precepts--is mad then, to guide us in right living; this list is an imposition, because we are sinful people. This is what St Paul means when he tells St Timothy (and us) that


St Paul wrote:
"Now the end of the commandment is charity, from a pure heart, and a good conscience, and an unfeigned faith. From which things some going astray, are turned aside unto vain babbling: Desiring to be teachers of the law, understanding neither the things they say, nor whereof they affirm. But we know that the law is good, if a man use it lawfully: Knowing this, that the law is not made for the just man, but for the unjust and disobedient, for the ungodly, and for sinners, for the wicked and defiled, for murderers of fathers, and murderers of mothers, for manslayers, For fornicators, for them who defile themselves with mankind, for menstealers, for liars, for perjured persons, and whatever other thing is contrary to sound doctrine" (1 Timothy 1:6-10).


The morality which has been preserved and taught be the Church, and passed to us by her, is meant to aid us in loving our neighbors, loving God, and even loving ourselves. Herein lies the second possible error, which is to say that because I love my neighbor, my God, and myself, therefore I do not really need to follow the whole set of "moral instructions" which have been given to aide me in this. This, too, is a heresy. After all, it was our LORD Himself who said, "If you love me, keep my commandments" (John 14:15). Thus, we show our love to God by keeping His commandments--that is, by obeying His moral precepts--and so "thou shall" and "thou shalt not" still matter.

Now, it is true that St Paul says that he is "dead to the law" (see Galatians 2:19). Or, alternatively, that he is free from it. This is not, however, the same as to say that he has no need to obey it. Rather, it means that he has no desire to disobey it. To give one seemingly extreme example, I am free from the moral law "thou shalt not murder," because I have no desire to murder anybody. The law places no restriction on my action, since I don't have the intent to murder anybody. I do, in fact, want not to murder anybody, hence I live in accord with this law. On the other hand, we know that there are murders--thus, there are people who are not free from this law. Moreover, there are people at some times who actually desire murder, in that they see it as a good thing--that is, the murder of one person will solve a problem which they face, or will lead to their happiness, etc. This is the case, for example, in abortion, or euthanasia, or (quite often) in the death penalty. Thus, not everybody is free from the proscription against murder.

Now, I said that morality largely represents a means of ordered right living. This also implies that morality contains a set of instructions for how to live--the do's and don'ts, moral precepts--which ought to be obeyed. This is even the case when we think that we have a better solution. So, for example, it is immoral to fornicate because sexual activity is meant to be an expression of love and intimacy (not to mention that its primary purpose is to be procreative). Perhaps I really do love the woman with whom I am about to fornicate, and perhaps sexual intercourse really will make us be more intimate; perhaps we even agree that if she becomes pregnant, we will raise the child together hence fulfilling the procreative purpose). Maybe we're even engaged to be married to each other. Does this make sexual relations between us "moral?" I answer that it does not, even if it seems like it does. After all, the definition of fornication is sexual relations between two unmarried people. Thus, even if we fulfill, on the surface, all of the requirements for sexual activity to be morally licit save for marriage, the act is still fornication, is still immoral. I may think that I have found a "loophole" by saying that sex is supposed to be in marriage only because marriage is an arrangement for child-rearing and for fostering love, but that i have made an alternate arrangement for both. However, I would be wrong.

To use an analogy from my own childhood: consider a new "set" of Legos. Really, any model with many parts, each with its own distinct place, will work. When I was a child, I used to play with Lego, and any time my parents bought me a new set, I couldn't wait to put them together. Now, there is a specific way in which the Legos fit together in order to make the toy pictured on the front of the box. I could either try to put them together by looking at the picture, and hope for the best, or follow the numbers picture-instructions which inevitably came in the box. For the simplest of the lego sets, looking at the picture on the front was often enough (or nearly so) to build the toy. With the larger and more complicated sets--containing, quite often, thousands of little pieces--the instructions were all but a necessity in order to correctly build the set.

Even so, I would often find that 100+ steps were too many for me to want to follow the whole way through. Sometimes, I just knew that then next piece would go in a certain position. Sometimes, I was able to take these "shortcuts" with no difficulty. Sometimes, however, it was necessary to remove the pieces and take steps back, because of that one little piece which just wouldn't fit when I tried to built the toy my own way. I found that by following the instructions in the package, I could always build the whole toy, and correctly, using all of the pieces which I was supposed to use (sometimes, there were leftovers included in the box), and I could then enjoy the toy. Truth be told, often building by the instructions was the fun part, but in any case this was always made easier by having a guide to follow. Any deviation from the guide, and I would need to go back, or the future steps would become confusing and even useless.

If the instructions for the Lego set is an analogy for our moral instructions, then the finished Lego product is like each one of us, complete with our relationships to God and each other. Now, morality is often more difficult to follow than an instruction manual for a Lego set; sometimes, this is due to ambiguity, and sometimes because we have a desire which is contrary to the moral law. If morality is often more difficult than an instruction manual, it is also at least as necessary to obey, even when it seems unclear, even when we think we have a better solution.

Every one of us is far more complicated than even the most complex and intricate Lego set. After all, as humans we have our own will, feelings, emotions, likes, dislikes, levels of understanding, abilities in communication, and indeed our own unique identities, to say nothing of our proclivities for sin which thwart all of these things. We are, in other words, "I" and not "it," subjects and not merely objects. Because a person is infinitely more complex than a Lego set, it is in our best interest to obey the precepts of our morality; and God, being infinite, is infinitely more complex and complicated still. Thus, His morality provides us with the only means of ordering our lives towards Him. We cannot glance at Him, or even at the points He's revealed about Himself (e.g. in the Bible) and use these to determine our own correct response to Him. Instead, we must rely on the "instructions manual" which He has passed on to us, which is morality.

Now, I've mentioned that there are two errors against morality. Morality is more than a list of precepts, but it must include that list. There is one final objection raised, often from Protestant quarters, which is that Christ wants from us faith in Him, and this is all that matters; that if we have this faith, we will gain the hope of salvation, and from this hope will come love for God, and perhaps also for our neighbors. After all, the basis of right living is love, is it not?

Indeed, this is all correct, as far as it goes. However, it overlooks that we have a duty to respond to this faith, this hope, this love. Certainly, that response includes prayers--be they praise and worship, thanksgiving, petitions, or whatever--but it also means living as morally as we can. That is to say, the response is not only in our heart (that is, in our soul) or even in our minds (spirit, when mind and soul, will and intellect are taken together), but in our bodies. This last response is the object of morality, that we may properly respond to God not only with our hearts and minds, but also with our bodies. As St Anselm of Canterbury puts it, "Truly, O Lord, because Thou madest me, I owe unto Thy love my  whole self. Because Thou didst redeem me, I owe Thee my whole self.  Because Thou makest me such great promises, I owe Thee my whole self."

We each owe to God our whole selves. That means our spirit--mind, soul, will, intellect--and our bodies. Our bodies are a part of us, they are a part of our selves; this is a doctrine of the Faith, held over against the Gnostic claims that we are merely spirits which are trapped in (or which use) our bodies. Our bodies are us, the are the physical manifestation of our selves; or as St Thomas Aquinas puts it, "the body is the form of the soul." The Catechism of the Catholic Church echoes this statement.

It is for this reason that we look forward to not only the eternal life of our spirits, but of the resurrection of our bodies. It is because our bodies are a part of us, of who we are, that what we do with them matters, not only for how we relate to others but in how we relate to God. We are told to "pray without ceasing" (1 Thessalonians 5:17, which implies praying not only through our thoughts and words but through our actions, that is, with our bodies. The morality given to us by the Church provides us a means of doing this. It is the means for right relationships, for right conduct, and, indeed, for right living, which is pleasing to God.

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If you like this post and want to read more, here are some related posts:
The Sanitary, Sterilized Life
Love and Lust:  How Porn Undermines a Marriage (Catholic America Today)
Procreation and Commitment As Characteristics of Christian Marriage (Thirty Minute Musings)
Speculation About Augustine and Birth Control (Thirty Minute Musings)
Abstinence, Chastity, and Sexuality (Nicene Guys)
What is the Purpose of Morality? Part 2: Marriage, Chastity, and Sexual Morality (Catholic America Today)
Contraception and Discernment (Nicene Guys)

Thursday, July 15, 2010

A Response to Dr Robbert Veen's "Why We Still Need to Talk about Heresy"



Note, this is written in response to
a post on the Christian.com blogs by Dr Robbert Veen. Dr Veen's post may also be found on his blog.

Though Karl Barth must certainly be counted among the theological giants of history--quite possible the greatest Protestant theologian ever to live--I have only passing and indirect familiarity with his works. Certainly, he has had the respect of a number of Catholic theologians, notably Popes Pius XII and Benedict XVI. With that said, I have a few comments concerning the thought of Mr Barth, as conveyed by Rev Dr Robbert Veen. That is to say, I have somewhat of a critique of Dr Veen's latest post.

First, I should note that I agree with a good deal of what he says. His section "Heresy as a Contradiction" is quite good, and I find myself in agreement.

Although heresy is a shape of Christian faith and a possibility of interpretation that arises within the life of the Church, it is in truth to be considered a contradiction to faith. A contradiction to faith that claims to be the true faith, that tries to establish itself as the legitimate way of being Church....individual believers may be wrong or unclear about the criterion of face them deviates from the common confession or may entertain points of view that our difference, contradictory or downright hostile to the contents of the Gospel. But as long as they do not consider their points of view to be of such validity that others should follow them or if they do not try to ground a church on their opinions, they themselves would not be seen as heretics and neither would their doctrines be considered heretical.

This seems to me a good working definition for heresy, on a first glance. However, there is already a problem with this definition, to be found in the last two sentences. A person may hold a private interpretation of a given doctrine which is incorrect--that is, he may misunderstand it--without being an active (that is, a dissenting) heretic, it is true. But this is only valid so long as that interpretation 1) remains private and 2) by extension receives no correction, or is changed in response to said correction.

Continue reading at the Nicene Guys Site.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Quote of the Day: Avery Cardinal Dulles on Theologians


"Occasionally it happens that certain theologians find it difficult to assent to a given teaching of the magisterium. In such cases, they should not leap to the conclusion that the magisterium has erred. The charism is judging the truth of doctrine is given primarily to the pope and the bishops, not to theologians. Theologians, like other members of the faithful, should try to see the truth or credibility of the official teaching. If they have difficulties, they may express them to colleagues and to the hierarchical teachers. In this way, they may help the magisterium to find a more convincing and accurate way of expressing its position. Over the centuries, the magisterium has been able to profit from the feedback that comes, so to speak, from the pews.

"What is unhelpful is for theologians to engage in noisy protests and try to recruit adherents for their dissenting positions. It is especially harmful when they try to bring pressure on the magisterium by organizing rallies, calling press conferences, or placing paid advertisements in newspapers. The Church, unlike political society, is a community of faith held together by the shared beliefs and mutual love of its members. When the Church becomes a battlefield between opposed groups, sowing discord and antipathy, it becomes less appealing to its own members and less attractive to others whom it is commissioned to evangelize."

--Avery Cardinal Dulles

I've been reading Carrdinal Dulles' New World of Faith, which is a sort of catechetical work. It's fairly basic--perhaps meant for use by Catechumens and candidates in RCIA?--but there are a few statements here and there which have stood out to me. This is one of those statements, because it seems to me that this is rather even-handed advice, not only for theologians but also for the magisterium.

The passage avoids the error of clericalism, and admits honestly that at times the bishops and pope can improve upon and refine their approaches at times. Implicit is the importance of ensuring that the terms used to explain a doctrine are as clear and unambiguous as possible, and that they are understood not only by the hierarchy which is led to a dogmatic conclusion, but also by the faithful whom said dogma will affect.

Case in point: Catholic-Lutheran relations (conflicts, dialogue, and perhaps resolution) on the doctrine of Justification. After nearly 500 years of controversy and conflict, leader of both the Lutheran community and the Catholic Church were able to agree to a Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification. My summary of the situation--assuming that neither side has essentially changed in their beliefs on this doctrine--is that for 500 years, both sides were saying essentialy the same thing, but using different words to mean the same thing. They did not agree upon common terms, and so were at conflict with each other. After some serious dialogue, now both sides see that they really were saying mostly the same things, but using different language to say these things; they were also focusing on different aspects of the same doctrine.

Thus, the Church agrees with Luther and his followers in that salvation comes through the grace of God. Works continue to play an important role in the life of the Church--and even an important role in the economy of salvation--but she does not (nor did she then) base salvation on them. Justification is not--nor has it ever been--a merit badge. Rather, both Catholics and Lutherans are able to affirm that salvation comes from Christ's death and resurrection: through His sacred Body and precious Blood, as one formulation puts it. Nor, however, are works to be utterly discarded, since it is through them that faith is manifested, indeed, through works that faith is practiced and thus caused to grow stronger ("practice makes perfect," as the old saying goes!).

Returning to Cardinal Dulles' passage, it also admits that lay persons (in this case, theologians, but more generally applicable to the entire laity) have an important role to play in the Church. This is done over and against those who embrace clericalism--and hence often shun any of the duties more properly given to the laity. These duties include the everyday evangelization which enriches the Church with new, faithful members; and of the education (and evangelization) of the family, which is the primary responsibility of parents. The theologians, in particular, have a duty to ask the right kinds of questions, for it is in discovering the answers to these questions that our knowledge of God and his revelation may be deepened.

The flip side of this is that, once an answer has been found and a conclusion has been arrived at--a dogma is formulated--the duty of the theologian is not to undermine that conclusion. Too often, the lay theologians (and indeed, some within the clergy) rebel against the magisterium of the Church once an answer is definitively given to the question posed. Little if any attempt is made to understand the answer, let alone its implications. Such rebellion ultimately sews discord amongst the faithful and undermines the witness of the Church. Such is the fruit of pride, a sin which is unfortunately prevalent among the so-called "elites," those who form what is the academic wing of the Church.

Dissent soon leads to heresy and to schism, injurious ruptures in the Body of Christ which impede her mission to evangelize and to catechize. Too often, theologians who disagree with the Church's teachings do not take the time to understand with those teachings, or to discuss them with their colleagues or their pastors. Rather, they value their pride above humility, and their opinion over obedience; their first action to to dissent loudly and to recruit as many others into dissent as they can, without regard for authority, unity, or charity. They obstruct the faithful's ability to discern truth and enfeeble their obedience to the Church and to Christ. They hinder the Church's ability to preach and to teach, and do so at the cost of their own ability to do these things. Finally, they weaken the bonds of faith and love which bind together the Body of Christ.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Is That Really a Hymn?

Usually, my local parish has a good selection of music for Mass. We have a mixed choir (some are volunteers, but I hear the section leaders are paid), which includes the voice of my lovely wife, and a great organist; the music ministry at Saint Louis is usually quite good. However, every once in a while, a song slips through which leaves me scratching my head and wondering, "How did that one get by the censors?" A case in point is our recessional hymn from Sunday: "God Who Stretched the Spangled Heavens." The tune is to "Holy Mana," a classic of sorts; and it was certainly well-sung. I will add that as a poem and a social commentary, it is an acceptable work. But does this mean that it should be used as a hymn during Mass? I suppose if the goal is for the more alert parishioners to leave thinking "oh, God!" then it is a smashing success.

I have sever problems with this song as a hymn. First, while it is supposedly a song of praise, the way in which the lyrics are constructed leaves me wondering where our attention is supposed to be while singing it. Consider the first verse:

God, who stretched the spangled heavens,
infinite in time and place,
flung the suns in burning radiance
through the silent fields of space;
we, your children in your likeness,
share inventive powers with you.
Great Creator, still creating,
show us what we yet may do.


The first line begins well enough, but by about the fourth line, my mind is somewhere between Jethro Tull, "Age of Aquarius," and "Space Trucking." The next four lines are mostly about us--a problem common to many modern hymns--and are probably the most trite part of the hymn. The second verse (which is not found at the link) is actually fairly good as a social commentary type of poem, and evoked images of Winter and Old Night:

Proudly rise our modern cities,
Stately buildings, row on row;
Yet their windows, blank, unfeeling,
Stare on canyoned streets below,
Where the lonely drift unnoticed
In the city's ebb and flow,
Lost to purpose and to meaning,
Scarcely caring where they go.


Yes, this modern life is so often nasty, brutish, and short. I don't so much mind this verse, except that it if it is to be used as a hymn, it calls for a necessary complimentary verse about how God gives meaning and hope to our lives. Alas, said complimentary verse never appears.

We have ventured worlds undreamed of
since the childhood of our race,
known the ecstasy of winging
through untraveled realms of space,
probed the secrets of the atom,
yielding unimagined power,
facing us with life's destruction
or our most triumphant hour.


Again, where is the focus of this verse? Aside from the fact that there is another complimentary verse which is missing:

Our enemies come from a vast land
A tundra of ice and snow,
They now have this very same bomb,
We praise you and grab more ammo,
Prepare us for this fiery fate,
We head for the nearest shelter,
Before it's for us too late,
To save ourselves from the swelter.


Ahem. It's fun to think of starships and bombs nuclear power and things which go "boom," but is Mass really the best time to be doing this?

As each far horizon beckons,
may it challenge us anew,
children of creative purpose
serving others, honoring you.
May our dreams prove rich with promise,
each endeavor well begun.
Great Creator, give us guidance
till our goals and yours are one.


Is this a prayer against having nightmares? What, exactly, is a "child of creative purpose?" Oh, and God returns to this hymn, after all this time of being absent. Also, since this hymn is constantly referencing the fact that we are "children," would not a reference to God as Father be more appropriate that simply "Creator?" Is the hymn more about our being God's children, or about the fact that we are oh-so-smart, and oh-so-creative? Look at how smart we are? That just doesn't seem like worship to me. The hymn focuses not so much on God's trancendence as on our own immanence. Yes, the first half of the first verse makes a rather tepid attempt to move from earth to heaven and from creation to paradise; but then it takes a wrong turn by jumping back to us.

Friday, July 09, 2010

Nicene Guys Feed: Tolerance, Dignity, and Charity



I was reading a reflection by Monsignor Charles Pope concerning beliefs, philosophies, and God. He opens by stating that

There is a tendency in the modern age, at least in the Western world, to trivialize the human person. One of the ways we do this is to say, in so many words, that it does not really matter what a person thinks or believes.


This is by no means a new sentiment (in the sense of being unique to today), but rather has permeated the "modern" era. For example, writing about 100 years ago, G.K. Chesterton said that this was often the attitude of the day. He continued by writing that


“It is foolish, generally speaking, for a philosopher to set fire to another philosopher in Smithfield Market because they do not agree in their theory of the universe. That was done very frequently in the last decadence of the Middle Ages….But there is one thing that is infinitely more absurd and unpractical than burning a man for his philosophy. This is the habit of saying that his philosophy does not matter, and this is done universally in the twentieth century, in the decadence of the great revolutionary period.” (Heretics)


The true root of tolerance is charity, the greatest of virtues. Unfortunately, it is also the virtue which is most frequently absent in every era and among every people. Worse yet, it is far too often misunderstood when present. For example, in a previous age people may have been burned at the stake for heresy*. On the surface, this looks like a lack of tolerance for "different ideas," but I think a case can be made that the root is a twisted sense of charity: burning a person at the stake kills the body, but heresy may kill the soul; throw in a dash of utilitarianism (in an nascent, pre-articulated form), and some people concluded that for the sake of the entire believing community, the heretic must be killed. Exile even would not do, since said heretic may go to another community and poison them with his beliefs.

Read the rest at the Nicene Guys site.

Links Round-Up 7/9/10: Church Music Edition



Rank on rank the host of heaven
Spreads its vanguard on the way,
As the Light of light descendeth
From the realms of endless day,
That the powers of hell may vanish
As the darkness clears away.

Verse 3 of one of my favorite Church Hymns of all time, "Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence."
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It seems that this week's blogosphere topic is church music, and church hymns, so why not have a round-up, with a few comments here and there. When my friends Mr Nathanael Blake, Mr Andrew Elster, and Mr David Conley were down for the wedding, one of the things we discussed was church music. Mr Blake constantly referenced "Gift of Finest Wheat" as his example of "bad" church music. I hate to break it to you, Nate, but there's worse. Much worse.
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My own personal least favorite song, by the way, is "Anthem," because it is not only bad music, and incredibly narcissistic, but also heretical. My wife concurs with this choice, as, apparently, do a lot of people.
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Where does all of this music come from? I am ashamed to say that the hidden hand behind much bad Catholic music is from my own home state, Oregon. Of course, it's coming from Portland, which is the Mordor to much of the state's shire, so I guess there shouldn't be too much surprise here. And What can we do about it? Will, perhaps begin with a moratorium on certain musicians.
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Perhaps you would prefer death metal worship? Maybe we could try this in some parishes to draw in those teens too angsty for the "Life Teen" Masses.
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Mr Mark Shea (and one of his readers) offers some advice for how to cope with bad hymnody. He also shares a note of warning (via a commenter) whcih is worth considering:
Namely, that people who express nothing but contempt for the music used in Mass risk treating the musicians who offer it with contempt, when they are often giving (like the widow with the mite) the best they have. I'll take lousy music offered with a good heart over great music offered in cold Pharisaic pride any day. I often wonder how folks who try to help out with music at Mass feel when they read the boulders of sheer contempt that rain down on their heads in combox threads like those over at First Things. Can't be rewarding to offer the best you know how and then find a battalion of critics, reeking with disgust, contempt and mockery, spitting on your offering to God. So while I empathize with the critics of the bad music and heretical lyrics, I tend to want to say "Remember that as you rain down artillery on that position, there are civilians, women and children in there."

He also concurs with the choice of "Anthem" as the worst church hymn available. Me, I just choose a silly voice or a foreign accent with which to sing if the music is merely banal or trite (on a good day), and hold silence on a "bad" day (or if it's heretical). In related news, I've received compliments for my Kermit the Frog renditions of certain "Eagles' Wings."
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How can we tell the good hymns from the bad? True, it's not all about the date of composition (either of the lyrics or the music), but it certainly seems to me that you've a higher probability of getting something good if you look for music written before about 1960. Also, heretical lyrics should always be a deal-breaker.
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Fr Dwight Longenecker provides us a nice glimpse into how he chooses music for Mass.
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Lest this become a mostly negative post, several people have posted lists of their favorite hymns (note: I don't agree with all of these selections, though to some extent this is a matter of taste; others are very well-chosen). Conspicuously absent from all this is Fr John Zuhlsdorf, whose list of favorites I'd like to see. As for me, I like (when liturgically appropriate) "Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence," "Adoro Te Devote," "Ubi Caritas," "Te Deum," some arrangements of the "Stabat Mater Dolorosa," and the responsory "Non Nobis." Heck, even the arrangement done for the 1989 movie "Henry V" would be a step up. And though I've never heard it done in person before, some of the poetry of John Henry Newman would surely make for good hymns ("Lead, Kindly Light," anyone?).

Note, to be fair, I wouldn't expect any of these songs I've linked to necessarily sound this good in the typical parish, with all-volunteer choirs, but just re-introducing them into the regular Mass line-up would a start.
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That, I suppose, concludes my round-up of links. Any thoughts? Favorite and least favorite hymns?

Thursday, July 08, 2010

On the Topic of Differences between the Sexes

Miss "Adoro" nails it:

The first thing I thought of when I learned about the Theology of the Body was the conversation I had with my male friends that night. Pope John Paul II, had he been present with us, would have been nodding along with them while they told me about the facts regarding men and women.

Those guys explained very candidly that men have a natural instinct to protect women.

They agreed that women can indeed defend themselves, can do many or most of the same jobs men do, but women have to work harder to do it. (This was a lesson that came home to me about five years later when I trained for and was hired by the Fire Dept.) Their acquiescence to the idea that women had abilities, however, differed from their argument, for ultimately, they weren't talking about doing...they were talking about the foundation of BEING!

Carefully, trying to help me understand, these guys, these friends and co-workers of mine tried to explain that (in a combat, law enforcement, firefighting situation) even though men realize women don't want any help if they are struggling with a task, men will still want to help them. Thus, in a combat situation, men will instinctively put themselves, and even other men at risk in order to help a woman, even if she is a soldier fighting alongside them. They will do it for the good of their unit, for the good of their country, for the good of the woman...possibly to the detriment of all.

I refused to see his logic and tried to argue that we women don't WANT protection, and we don't NEED protection. I was missing the point...he was attempting to explain to me that it wasn't about what women wanted...it was about how men are designed and that no matter how much they tried, they could not suppress their internal instinct to protect the women around them....Men and women are NOT the same, but are designed to be complimentary to one another, for the good primarily of the family, secondarily to society.

Ok, more specifically, she nails it from the perspective of a woman coming to grips with (or having come to grips with) a real man's understanding of his relationship to a woman. Men are meant to be protectors; it's what we do, and it's ingrained in us by our design. Sure, some of us shy away from this responsibility--by fear, by repressing this in conformity with what modern feminists say men ought to do, or whatever--but the instinct of a man is to protect his family (and his female friends, and colleagues, etc). This is one reason (not the only one) why allowing women in the military can be problematic; if the men in the unit act as men, then they will have great difficulty suppressing the instinct to protect the women in the unit at all costs--much to their unit's detriment (as Adoro has noted).

This will be done even if the woman in question is far from helpless, even if she can "take care of herself." This brings to light one of the many problems with radical feminism: whatever may be said about their understanding of women (and I believe that they are dead wrong here, too), they lack any understanding whatsoever of men. Hence, their schemes for a "better" society are bound to fail, even when those schemes actually attempt to include men in that society. I'm not here claiming that chauvinistic men have a better understanding of women writ large. The nature of two complimentary things is that they each have what the other lacks; but this also means that each understand others of his (or her) own kind better than others of the opposite kind.

Wednesday, July 07, 2010

Another Thought about the Importance of Good Works in Salvation


I've written before that I believe that works are an important part of the economy of salvation, and that they do not replace faith but rather complete it. Today, I have a little more to add to this, but in a different vein. Our works may not be the means of our own salvation--we don't earn this for ourselves--but they can be the vehicle through which faith comes to our neighbors, and so have great importance as such. In the Gospel of Saint Matthew, our LORD warns us:

"By their fruits you shall know them. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles? Even so every good tree bringeth forth good fruit, and the evil tree bringeth forth evil fruit. A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can an evil tree bring forth good fruit. Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit, shall be cut down, and shall be cast into the fire. Wherefore by their fruits you shall know them" (Matthew 7:16-20).
This is not only true for Christians, but for men the world over. They look at the Church, hear her preaching, read her teachings, and yet refuse to enter. Why is this? Because they see the members of the Church, sinners all, and conflate their actions with those of the Church. It is one thing to preach chastity (for example), but another entirely to practice it. Both are needed, but the preaching rings hollow if the preacher is an adulterer.

The orthodoxy of a great number of members of the Church may be called into question, sadly, and this creates a certain impediment to evangelization, to the conversion of hearts and minds. However, equally at fault--perhaps even at greater fault--is the lack of orthopraxis, of right practice. A great many "intellectual" dissenters began by favoring a particular sin or vice condemned by the Church. I can't count on both hands the number of my friends who have apostasied entirely because they anted to engage in sex as a contact sport outside of the bonds and bounds of marriage*. They began with an "inconvenient" moral teaching and then search out a convenient dogma to reject for intellectual cover. This is just as often the case for people who were "born and raised" outside the Faith. A seemingly inconvenient morality helps to keep them out.

It would be easy to end the analysis here, apportioning individual blame to each individual who rejects faith, truth, and salvation. To some extent, it is true that this is done by individuals, and that those individuals are responsible for their decisions; indeed, they are primarily responsible. However, it does not end here. How many of those people saw an "inconvenient" moral precept, then looked around for support in living by that precept, and found none? Far too many. Or how many people who are on the outside and looking in ask what we believe, is told the answer, and ask, "show me?" and are completely disappointed in the result, even within the bounds of a fallen mankind?

Yes, the Faith is undermined by those who say "we don't really believe that" when asked about sundry doctrines. Too many "believers" are all too happy to throw out the Fall, sin and damnation, Hell, the miracles of Christ, the Incarnation, the Virgin Birth, the doctrine of the Trinity, or even the existence of God (to name only a few); this does not help matters in the least, and it weakens the Faith. However, there is something which can weaken the faith more than this, and it is that even those who really do believe all of these doctrines (let alone those who don't!) so often fall short of practicing their Faith in any meaningful way.

The often turn to surrogates to practice their faith: "abstinence only education," "making abortion illegal," "government taxation for charitable causes." These are all worthy things, to be fair, but faith is not practiced by a legal system or a government, but rather by people. The Faith of the Church is unassailable (see Matthew 16:18), but the practice of that faith by her members is not only fallible, but often quite poor.

It is by that practice that we most often evangelize the world, both in winning new converts and in passing on the Faith to those who are born into it. Many people reject the Faith because of the lack of good works, saying that this faith is dead (see James 2:20), and to tel the honest truth they would be right. It is not by our belief that we draw people into the Faith--and thus to their salvation--but by our works; these may include preaching and prayer (which are two of the greatest works), but they also include our other "good works." I have scarcely met a convert who has said, "I first came to the Church because of her teaching**." This may be the last thing which a convert considers, and perhaps even in the final measure the most important. However, the first thing is so often the good works, be they spiritual or corporal works of mercy, or other good works: the "fruits" of the Church***. To put it in words often attributed to Saint Francis of Assisi, "Preach the Gospel at all times and when necessary use words."

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*Which is not to say that this is the only excuse or reason for apostasy or that all apostates do so for pelvic reasons

**This may, however, be the final reason for conversion, or for that matter for remaining within the Church. Indeed, if the Church offered a great many good works without also teaching truth, then ultimately conversion would not be a good thing.

***Some people are also attracted at first to the artwork or the music (which may be making a resurgence in some parishes, but which has languished in most) of the Church; but these may also be a form of "works," both as spiritual works of mercy (instruct the ignorant) and as "other" types of work.

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

Sola Fide and Works (Nicene Guys)
C.S. Lewis on the Importance of "Good Work" in "Good Works" (Quote of the Day)
C.S. Lewis on Art, Artists, and Good Work (Quote of the Day)
Homogeneity in Heaven and Hell
What Happens to Non-Christians When They Die: a Speculative Reflection
Of Infants and Salvation (Nicene Guys)
Religion or Relationship
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Tuesday, July 06, 2010

Quote of the Day: Louis de Wohl on Language and Enemies

"You are doing a little better in Latin, and I like your pronunciation of French," Don Luiz continued. "You must become perfect in both. Latin is the language, and God speaks to us in it through his Holy Church. French is the language of our Christian enemy, and we must be able to understand him. You won't have to learn either Turkish or Arabic because the only language in which we speak to the Turks and Arabs is that of the sword."

--Louis de Wohl, The Last Crusader: A Novel about Don Juan of Austria







I can't claim to be an expert on the writings of Louis de Wohl--I've only read a few of his novels--but I can say that he manages to be constantly quotable in his writings. This particular passage from his novel about Don Juan of Austria is a part of an exchange between Don Luiz--who acts as a sort of foster father to the future Don John--and the future Don John himself.

The entire book is set against the backdrop of the aggressive and expansionist campaigns of the Turks leading up to their defeat in the Battle of Lepanto*. It can, however, be taken metaphorically in another manner for us today. In a sense, every man is a brother Christian, metaphorically speaking, in that the real enemy of every Christian is not to be found amongst humanity. Sure, certain men can become pawns or tools of that enemy, and some may be more successfully used for these purposes than others**. However, even those who would become the enemies of mankind or of the Faith are not the real enemies, but only his servants.

Thus there is some metaphorical meaning, "French is the language of our Christian enemy, and we must be able to understand him." It does not mean that we need to literally learn French, but rather to be able to reach out to our would-be enemies. This is one of the tasks of evangelization, albeit perhaps also the most difficult. We could take as an example Saint Dominic, who spent years amongst the Albigensian heretics in order to learn from them, the better to evangelize them.

Another meaning to learning the language "of our Christian enemies" is in what language signifies. Language is the means of communication, and communication imparts a sort of dignity. We don't (indeed, can't) communicate with rocks and trees; we can communicate in a very limited way with animals. With other people, however, we can communicate in a more complete manner (though rarely if ever perfectly). To speak another's language is to acknowledge the dignity of the other, to show the other that there is the possibility of reaching an accord (if discord exists) or or striving towards cooperation and perhaps even friendship.

There is more to Mr de Wohl's statement, with regard to the Turks and Arabs. Islam may be the greatest (that is, longest lasting) of the enemies of Christendom, and is generally centered in Turkey (its most formidable empire) and Arabia (its birthplace). However, they may also symbolize the great enemies against which every Christian must fight: sin, temptation, evil on the one hand; and the tempter, the first sinner, the master of evil, on the other. Our real enemy is not the Muhammedans***, but rather Sin and the devil. These enemies cannot be reasoned with, cannot be accorded dignity, cannot be evangelized. Whereas our charitable duty is to evangelize men, our Christian duty is to master our sins and to fight against (or avoid) the wickedness and snare of Satan. The only language for the devil is the sword, that is, spiritual combat.

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*A battle which was a great victory for Christendom, but which was ultimately squandered due to certain "internal" concerns.

**Names which come immediately to mind: Nero, Julian the Apostate, Attila the Hun, the Khilifah of the 19th century, Lennin and Stalin, Hitler, Margaret Sanger, Ho Chi Minh, Castro and Guevara, Kim Jon Il, to name just a few.

***Though we may certainly engage them in just wars, and should certainly resist their expansionism.

Links Round-Up 7/6/10

When I am not good for my word
And touch upon the cheek of truth
The likeness of a kiss,
I think of Judas, defender of the poor,
Who ascended not flaming chariot clouds
(As Elijah did, taking them in his stride)
Nor strode the earth like a man,
But climbed up a tree,
Threw himself down, and stopped
Somewhere in-between.

--William Tobias Straney, Judas Ambiguous, Published in the Christendom Review
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Independence Day has come and gone, giving some people an extra day off (I wasn't one of them). The festivities inevitably included fireworks; Popular Mechanics included an article about how the professionals get the brilliant pyrotechnics to work out for these displays. Tip of the derby cap to Mr Patrick Madrid.
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My friend Mr Daniel Bui has been writing a set of reflections about Catholics and our devotion to Our Lady (with more to come). So far, there are three installments.
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Mr Eric Sammons has a post up about the unfortunate choice faced by the Church (and really, any organization) in our fallen world: tolerate heresy, or accept schism? Neither choice is very appealing, in the end we are left to tolerate one or the other. As an interesting summary, the Catholic Church is more tolerant of heresy, the Orthodox Churches are more tolerant of schism. I would add Protestant sects seem to more or less run the gauntlet from extreme tolerance of both to no tolerance of either, with Protestantism writ large being highly schismatic (see 33,000 denominations and other sects), but for the most part in at least some agreement over a few tenants held commonly (what C.S. Lewis called "Mere Christianity").

This tension between tolerating heresy or tolerating schism has been with the Church since the beginning, and Church leaders have always had to tolerate one or the other when dealing with those members who promote something against the teachings of the Church. Pope John Paul II obviously leaned towards tolerating heresy more than schism, and in doing so, he stayed within the more common Western tradition. But this is not the way of the East; in fact, if you look at the history of the Church, a general rule of thumb has been that the West tolerates heresy more than schism, and the East tolerates schism more than heresy.

The very names that have been associated with the Church in the East and the West support this rule. The Church in the West has been known as the “Catholic” Church: “catholic” means “universal” and emphasizes the unity of the Body of Christ throughout the world. The Church in the East has been known as the “Orthodox” Church; “orthodox” means “right belief” and emphasizes the correct teachings of the church. Although there are obviously exceptions, this has been the path taken by each throughout the centuries: the Catholic Church has tolerated heresy in its ranks more liberally, but the Orthodox churches have endured more internal schisms than the West. This also partially explains the fact that the drive for reunification between East and West has mostly originated in the West: we are more willing to endure varied beliefs between us for the cause of unity, but the East is more adamant that our beliefs align fully before we talk unity (for example, note the differing receptions between the East and West to the Council of Florence).


This seems to me to be a fairly good description of the difference in ecclesiology between East and West (though I claim little expertise on the Orthodox churches).
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"If you are willing to die for a cause, you must be prepared to kill for it, too." So writes pro-"choice" feminist Ms Antonia Senior, though for some reason it's always the pro-lifers who are portrayed in the MSM as violent extremists. The essay's chilling title is "Yes, Abortion is Killing. But it's the Lesser Evil." This is not really a big surprise, since it's long been known that certain members of the pro-abortion movement knew exactly what they were doing, knew that they were promoting murder. Mr Carl Olson fisks the article for Ignatius Insights; Mr Mark Shea gives it a much shorter (though no less accurate and fair) treatment.
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The Bronze Age Barbarian-Fundamentalists strike again! And Again! The Religion of Peace is often not so much at peace with Catholics and Jews. Neither is the MSM.
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Acts of the Apostasy's Mr Larry D reports that a liberal, heterodox-leaning retired Catholic bishops has called for a third Vatican Council. Mr D comments, "But if he means the Vatican should convene another council, then I have a suggestion: hold it in Trent (or whatever the town's called nowadays) Call it Trent II. The first one was a phenomenal success, so why not? I think it's time to generously apply "Anathema sit!" again, and get those Catholyc heads a-spinnin'!" Creative Minority Report's Mr Matthew Archbold sees this as a sign that the traditionalists are slowly but surely winning. Deo gratias!
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The Telegraph has some images of 10 new marine species discovered recently in the depths of the Atlantic Ocean.
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With a tip of the Derby to the Sci FI Catholic, The Onion has a brilliant video "story":


Christian Groups: Biblical Armageddon Must Be Taught Alongside Global Warming

Brilliant as always!
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