If man's deepest and truest desire is for the transcendant (my soul is restless until it rests in thee), the devil's work is to blunt that desire with "worldly concerns" -- politics, faction, "the Cause." "Once you have made the World an end, and faith a means, you have almost won your man, and it makes very little difference what kind of worldly end he is pursuing. Provide that meetings, pamphlets, policies, movements, causes, and crusades, matter more to him than prayers and sacraments and charity, he is ours. . . " (Screwtape, Ch. 7).
The primary symbol of the desire for the transcendent is Eros, love. To the degree we love, to that degree are we able to soar above the clutching fingers of hell. W.B. Yeats depicted something like this in a 1938 poem called "Politics." It's epigraph is a statement made by Thomas Mann as he witnessed Hitler and Europe heading for war: "In our time the destiny of man presents its meaning in political terms." Yeat's reply is this:
How can I, that girl standing there,
My attention fix
On Roman or on Russion
Or on Spanish politics?
Yet here's a travelled man that knows
What he talks about,
And there's a politician
That has read and thought,
And maybe what they say is true
Of war and war's alarms,
But O that I were young again
And held her in my arms!
Glenn Hughes, in Transcendence and History at p. 119 explained the poem this way: "The poet's being distracted by beauty symbolizes all human longing for a life made brilliant and immortal through love, a life fulfilled through the realization of that happiness of which eros is the universal promise. The momentary distraction of the poet symbolizes the impossibility of political concerns ever finally holding the attention of our most searching desires, and thus the impossibility of their constituting the meaning of the 'destiny of man.'"
In light of Screwtape's advice above, I take the poem to mean that unless we glimpse and soar in love to the beauty of the transcendent, the infernal realms will constrain and bind us.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Friday, February 27, 2009
Washing the "Clean Collar" of Pharisaism
Last night as I drove home, I listened on the radio to an interview with an author who has written a book about how his work as a religion journalist caused him to lose his faith. His basic point is that he found that Christianity (and really all religion) did not seem to make a difference in Christian's behavior versus the behavior of persons with no religious faith. He mentioned a terrible pedophile scandal in Alaska in which the Church offered $10K per incident, while in California Cardinal Mahoney offered $1M per incident. Is that the value the church places on humans, he asked.
Being discouraged about sinfulness is understandable, and the scandal it causes is, of course, "scandalous." But maybe a different perspective on sinfulness is called for. I recently read a sermon by Fr. Kentenich of the Schoenstaat Fathers entitled, "Overcoming the Pharisee in Ourselves." In it, he said that we commonly think of redemption as having a "clean collar." "We think that the grace of redemption should free us from the struggle for our soul and our battle against sin. There is no bigger mistake we can make."
"The meaning of redemption is not, in the first place, being without spot and sin. What does God want? Why does he allow people . . . to fall repeatedly? God wants to uproot people from the soil of their own selves. People have to be pulled out of it. And God can usually only do this when he allows us to fall. That even includes people who have already reached the higher levels of a life of prayer. Human nature is so selfish and self-seeking, it is so infected by the plague of selfishness, that God repeatedly has to allow the "clean collar" to be dirtied. Otherwise we will never be completely uprooted.
"True redemption includes, first of all, profound humility. . . Let us apply this to ourselves. How many sins and faults can occur! We will never be free from them. God doesn't want it either. He can give us a "clean collar" to the extent that our nature has been uprooted and re-rooted in himself. Can you feel how false our concept of redemption is, and how we actually drive people away from Christ when they are struggling hard to reach him?" (emphasis added)
Fr. Kentenich counsels to remain "calm and at peace despite all your sinfulness and impulsiveness. You will then be able to say with inner feeling: Thank God I do such stupid things, not because they are stupid, but because I am humbled by these stupidities. God wants us to be small. That is the meaning of redemption. We have to be uprooted, so that we can be re-rooted in God."
Good advice when applied to ourselves, Fr. Kentenich's words about "pharisaism" also apply to how we see others. I am so quick to judge! But if I must accept sinfulness in myself, I must also accept it in others, and in charity, allow others the space to continue the process of being up-rooted from sinfulness and being re-planted in the life of Christ. And apparently this even includes criminals, pedophiles, and other "low lives." Of course, we don't accept these behaviors, but in charity we recognize these persons as fellow human beings, all of us together struggling with our sinfulness.
It is a modern heresy to believe that Christian faith must save the present world to prove itself. Rather, as the scriptures say, the grain and the weeds grow up together. Rene Girard, in his book Evolution and Conversion (p. 220), quotes Jacques Maritain: "History progresses both in the direction of good and in the direction of evil." On the Philosophy of History, p.43. (Another formulation I heard from Gil Bailie comes from Hans Urs von Balthasar: "History is the progressive intensification of the struggle between good and evil.")
It seems to me it is also a form of Pharisaism ("He consorts with sinners!") to maintain that, since Christianity has not "cleaned the collar" of civilization, but continues to consort with sinners, it should be shunned as worthless and untrue? We should rather say that civilization's collar is always in need of a wash, our own collar included, and that Christianity is God's "washing machine"!
But isn't it likewise Pharisaism for believers to shun the one scandalized into unbelief by Christian sin? We believers try humbly to rely on God's grace (not our own efforts) to up-root us from the soil of sin and re-plant us in the garden of His life. Unbelievers cannot accept this. But as we all struggle against sin and evil, can't we believers confidently pray and hope that God's grace, which rains on all, will work for the good of all in the lives of believers and unbelievers? For God looks beyond labels; he scrutinizes the heart.
(I note the second reading for the 1st Sun of Lent: 1 Peter 3:18-22: "This prefigured baptism, which saves you now. It is not a removal of dirt from the body but an appeal to God for a clear conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ,who has gone into heaven and is at the right hand of God, with angels, authorities, and powers subject to him.")
Being discouraged about sinfulness is understandable, and the scandal it causes is, of course, "scandalous." But maybe a different perspective on sinfulness is called for. I recently read a sermon by Fr. Kentenich of the Schoenstaat Fathers entitled, "Overcoming the Pharisee in Ourselves." In it, he said that we commonly think of redemption as having a "clean collar." "We think that the grace of redemption should free us from the struggle for our soul and our battle against sin. There is no bigger mistake we can make."
"The meaning of redemption is not, in the first place, being without spot and sin. What does God want? Why does he allow people . . . to fall repeatedly? God wants to uproot people from the soil of their own selves. People have to be pulled out of it. And God can usually only do this when he allows us to fall. That even includes people who have already reached the higher levels of a life of prayer. Human nature is so selfish and self-seeking, it is so infected by the plague of selfishness, that God repeatedly has to allow the "clean collar" to be dirtied. Otherwise we will never be completely uprooted.
"True redemption includes, first of all, profound humility. . . Let us apply this to ourselves. How many sins and faults can occur! We will never be free from them. God doesn't want it either. He can give us a "clean collar" to the extent that our nature has been uprooted and re-rooted in himself. Can you feel how false our concept of redemption is, and how we actually drive people away from Christ when they are struggling hard to reach him?" (emphasis added)
Fr. Kentenich counsels to remain "calm and at peace despite all your sinfulness and impulsiveness. You will then be able to say with inner feeling: Thank God I do such stupid things, not because they are stupid, but because I am humbled by these stupidities. God wants us to be small. That is the meaning of redemption. We have to be uprooted, so that we can be re-rooted in God."
Good advice when applied to ourselves, Fr. Kentenich's words about "pharisaism" also apply to how we see others. I am so quick to judge! But if I must accept sinfulness in myself, I must also accept it in others, and in charity, allow others the space to continue the process of being up-rooted from sinfulness and being re-planted in the life of Christ. And apparently this even includes criminals, pedophiles, and other "low lives." Of course, we don't accept these behaviors, but in charity we recognize these persons as fellow human beings, all of us together struggling with our sinfulness.
It is a modern heresy to believe that Christian faith must save the present world to prove itself. Rather, as the scriptures say, the grain and the weeds grow up together. Rene Girard, in his book Evolution and Conversion (p. 220), quotes Jacques Maritain: "History progresses both in the direction of good and in the direction of evil." On the Philosophy of History, p.43. (Another formulation I heard from Gil Bailie comes from Hans Urs von Balthasar: "History is the progressive intensification of the struggle between good and evil.")
It seems to me it is also a form of Pharisaism ("He consorts with sinners!") to maintain that, since Christianity has not "cleaned the collar" of civilization, but continues to consort with sinners, it should be shunned as worthless and untrue? We should rather say that civilization's collar is always in need of a wash, our own collar included, and that Christianity is God's "washing machine"!
But isn't it likewise Pharisaism for believers to shun the one scandalized into unbelief by Christian sin? We believers try humbly to rely on God's grace (not our own efforts) to up-root us from the soil of sin and re-plant us in the garden of His life. Unbelievers cannot accept this. But as we all struggle against sin and evil, can't we believers confidently pray and hope that God's grace, which rains on all, will work for the good of all in the lives of believers and unbelievers? For God looks beyond labels; he scrutinizes the heart.
(I note the second reading for the 1st Sun of Lent: 1 Peter 3:18-22: "This prefigured baptism, which saves you now. It is not a removal of dirt from the body but an appeal to God for a clear conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ,who has gone into heaven and is at the right hand of God, with angels, authorities, and powers subject to him.")
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Christianity in a Nutshell
Can you express the Christian paradox in a nutshell? Here's a try: Sacrifice or self-sacrifice. Self-sacrifice (paradoxically) leads to life, sacrifice to death. Cross (self-sacrifice) leads to Resurrection. Sacrificing others (to preserve yourself) leads to death. Here is our freedom: I put before you life and death; choose life.
I marvel at Frank Capra's depiction of that dynamic in It's A Wonderful Life. Self-sacrifice leading to life. (Giving up leading to gift.) We first see it in George's act of self-sacrifice to save his little brother from drowning. George loses his hearing, but his brother is saved. George tells Mr. Gauer he would have poisoned his customer with the wrong prescription, and for that bit of information he gets boxed on his bad ear, but the customer is saved. George sacrifices his trip to college when his dad dies, but saves the saving and loan from Mr. Potter's clutches. George again stays on when his brother gets married and moves away, but George receives his own wonderful wife in return. George skips his honeymoon because he spends his cash on his bank's customers, saving them and the bank in the process. George wrestles with Potter's offer to co-opt him, and finally gives up the vision of a big house and salary, turning Potter down flat. Immediately on arriving home he hears his wife whisper that she is pregnant!
George spends the war years collecting rubber and selling war bonds, running the savings and loan, and celebrating with bread and wine new loans leading to houses for the "working poor" of his town. And, of course, the incident that leads to Clarence's intervention -- the theft of the bank's deposit by Mr. Potter -- has George contemplating suicide to get the insurance money that will avoid "scandal" and Potter's goal of snuffing out the savings and loan. The prospect of that extreme act of self-sacrifice (suicide) finally brings divine intervention, which poignantly turns the tables so that George saves Clarence in yet another act of self-sacrifice. The result you know, a wonderful re-union at home in which the entire village, including the bank examiner, ante up the funds needed to outflank Potter and save the bank.
I can't think of a better example of the Christian paradox: lose your life and you will gain it.
Heading into Lent's time of self-sacrifice, of "giving up," shouldn't that give us encouragement? For, we can't even imagine what God has in store for those who love Him.
I marvel at Frank Capra's depiction of that dynamic in It's A Wonderful Life. Self-sacrifice leading to life. (Giving up leading to gift.) We first see it in George's act of self-sacrifice to save his little brother from drowning. George loses his hearing, but his brother is saved. George tells Mr. Gauer he would have poisoned his customer with the wrong prescription, and for that bit of information he gets boxed on his bad ear, but the customer is saved. George sacrifices his trip to college when his dad dies, but saves the saving and loan from Mr. Potter's clutches. George again stays on when his brother gets married and moves away, but George receives his own wonderful wife in return. George skips his honeymoon because he spends his cash on his bank's customers, saving them and the bank in the process. George wrestles with Potter's offer to co-opt him, and finally gives up the vision of a big house and salary, turning Potter down flat. Immediately on arriving home he hears his wife whisper that she is pregnant!
George spends the war years collecting rubber and selling war bonds, running the savings and loan, and celebrating with bread and wine new loans leading to houses for the "working poor" of his town. And, of course, the incident that leads to Clarence's intervention -- the theft of the bank's deposit by Mr. Potter -- has George contemplating suicide to get the insurance money that will avoid "scandal" and Potter's goal of snuffing out the savings and loan. The prospect of that extreme act of self-sacrifice (suicide) finally brings divine intervention, which poignantly turns the tables so that George saves Clarence in yet another act of self-sacrifice. The result you know, a wonderful re-union at home in which the entire village, including the bank examiner, ante up the funds needed to outflank Potter and save the bank.
I can't think of a better example of the Christian paradox: lose your life and you will gain it.
Heading into Lent's time of self-sacrifice, of "giving up," shouldn't that give us encouragement? For, we can't even imagine what God has in store for those who love Him.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Is Lent a "Special" Time?
Fr. Don at Mass this morning asked how to make Lent "special"? He observed that we usually don't think of Lent as "special" in the sense of something we look forward to, because who looks forward to "giving up" something?
As Fr. Don noted, Lent offers us an opportunity to "give up" something. Why do that? I suggest that in giving up something we think we value (usually because we do it often or out of habit) , we may uncover something that is more valuable, something we've forgotten about or let slip into the background during "ordinary" life. In other words, maybe our habits and behaviors are blocking our appreciation of what is really valuable and special.
For example, maybe by sacrificing our ordinary TV-watching time or our habit of regular drinking alcohol, we would open ourselves more to our family and friends, and thereby help us to to better appreciate (and enjoy) the gift of their company.
So, to answer Fr. Don, we can make Lent "special" by noticing the gifts we get through giving up! I don't know about you, but I'm going to keep my eyes open!
As Fr. Don noted, Lent offers us an opportunity to "give up" something. Why do that? I suggest that in giving up something we think we value (usually because we do it often or out of habit) , we may uncover something that is more valuable, something we've forgotten about or let slip into the background during "ordinary" life. In other words, maybe our habits and behaviors are blocking our appreciation of what is really valuable and special.
For example, maybe by sacrificing our ordinary TV-watching time or our habit of regular drinking alcohol, we would open ourselves more to our family and friends, and thereby help us to to better appreciate (and enjoy) the gift of their company.
So, to answer Fr. Don, we can make Lent "special" by noticing the gifts we get through giving up! I don't know about you, but I'm going to keep my eyes open!
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
No Country For Old Men
I wondered what Coleman McCarthy was up to in writing his shocking and drenched-in-blood "No Country For Old Men." I concluded he was depicting a possible future in which nihilism sweeps away all in its path. (I also highly recommend The Road, which won the Pullitzer Prize in 2006 and will be released this year as "a major motion picture.")
McCarthy, a Catholic (at least that's what I've read), may be an example of what Flannery O'Connor said (which I quoted Sunday): "My own feeling is that writers who see by the light of the Christian faith will have, in these times, the sharpest eyes for the grotesque, for the perverse, and for the unacceptable."
That future doesn't seem very far away, both literally and figuratively, judging from the newspaper account today of a brazen attack by narco gangs on the Governor of the state of Chihuahua. You can read about it here.
The article I saw in the Tribune this morning said:
"In 2008, more than 1,600 people died statewide in drug-related violence, the highest toll for the year among Mexico's states. This year, the number already exceeds 300. . . The country saw more than 6,000 slayings in 2008. The toll so far this year is above 800. . . .
"In Ciudad Juarez, the state's deadliest spot . . . the city's police chief, Roberto Orduna Cruz, quit Friday -- two days after signs threatened that a police officer would be killed every 48 hours if the chief stayed on the job. In the hours before he stepped down, a municipal officer and jail guard were fatally shot. Orduna said he wanted to prevent more attacks against the city's 1,600 officers."
I don't know how old Sheriff Cruz is, but any sheriff is an "old man" when he believes in "old values." We need to keep praying that this "shootout" between good and evil, between value and Nothing, will be won by the good guys!
McCarthy, a Catholic (at least that's what I've read), may be an example of what Flannery O'Connor said (which I quoted Sunday): "My own feeling is that writers who see by the light of the Christian faith will have, in these times, the sharpest eyes for the grotesque, for the perverse, and for the unacceptable."
That future doesn't seem very far away, both literally and figuratively, judging from the newspaper account today of a brazen attack by narco gangs on the Governor of the state of Chihuahua. You can read about it here.
The article I saw in the Tribune this morning said:
"In 2008, more than 1,600 people died statewide in drug-related violence, the highest toll for the year among Mexico's states. This year, the number already exceeds 300. . . The country saw more than 6,000 slayings in 2008. The toll so far this year is above 800. . . .
"In Ciudad Juarez, the state's deadliest spot . . . the city's police chief, Roberto Orduna Cruz, quit Friday -- two days after signs threatened that a police officer would be killed every 48 hours if the chief stayed on the job. In the hours before he stepped down, a municipal officer and jail guard were fatally shot. Orduna said he wanted to prevent more attacks against the city's 1,600 officers."
I don't know how old Sheriff Cruz is, but any sheriff is an "old man" when he believes in "old values." We need to keep praying that this "shootout" between good and evil, between value and Nothing, will be won by the good guys!
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Spirituality Irrelevant?
Here is the first two paragraphs of a provocative article by Glenn Tinder, "Can We Be Good Without God?" published in the Atlantic Monthly in 1989.
"We are so used to thinking of spirituality as withdrawal from the world and human affairs that it is hard to think of it as political. Spirituality is personal and private, we assume, while politics is public. But such a dichotomy drastically diminishes spirituality, construing it as a relationship to God without implications for one's relationship to the surrounding world. The God of Christian faith (I shall focus on Christianity although the God of the New Testament is also the God of the Old Testament) created the world and is deeply engaged in the affairs of the world. The notion that we can be related to God and not to the world--that we can practice a spirituality that is not political--is in conflict with the Christian understanding of God.
"And if spirituality is properly political, the converse also is true, however distant it may be from prevailing assumptions: politics is properly spiritual. The spirituality of politics was affirmed by Plato at the very beginnings of Western political philosophy and was a commonplace of medieval political thought. Only in modern times has it come to be taken for granted that politics is entirely secular. The inevitable result is the demoralization of politics. Politics loses its moral structure and purpose, and turns into an affair of group interest and personal ambition. Government comes to the aid of only the well organized and influential, and it is limited only where it is checked by countervailing forces. Politics ceases to be understood as a pre-eminently human activity and is left to those who find it profitable, pleasurable, or in some other way useful to themselves. Political action thus comes to be carried out purely for the sake of power and privilege.
"We are so used to thinking of spirituality as withdrawal from the world and human affairs that it is hard to think of it as political. Spirituality is personal and private, we assume, while politics is public. But such a dichotomy drastically diminishes spirituality, construing it as a relationship to God without implications for one's relationship to the surrounding world. The God of Christian faith (I shall focus on Christianity although the God of the New Testament is also the God of the Old Testament) created the world and is deeply engaged in the affairs of the world. The notion that we can be related to God and not to the world--that we can practice a spirituality that is not political--is in conflict with the Christian understanding of God.
"And if spirituality is properly political, the converse also is true, however distant it may be from prevailing assumptions: politics is properly spiritual. The spirituality of politics was affirmed by Plato at the very beginnings of Western political philosophy and was a commonplace of medieval political thought. Only in modern times has it come to be taken for granted that politics is entirely secular. The inevitable result is the demoralization of politics. Politics loses its moral structure and purpose, and turns into an affair of group interest and personal ambition. Government comes to the aid of only the well organized and influential, and it is limited only where it is checked by countervailing forces. Politics ceases to be understood as a pre-eminently human activity and is left to those who find it profitable, pleasurable, or in some other way useful to themselves. Political action thus comes to be carried out purely for the sake of power and privilege.
"It will be my purpose in this essay to try to connect the severed realms of the spiritual and the political."
If I have had a problem with a "spirituality group" it is what seems to be this flip-side of secularism: That spirituality is "private" and has nothing to do with politics. But doesn't that make spirituality practically irrelevant? Views?
Laughter and Joy
In connection with Ch. 11's discussion of laughter as caused by "Joy, Fun, the Joke Proper, and Flippancy," I read some interesting comments about Flannery O'Connor's use of the grotesque as a form of humor.
O'Connor, as a Christian, was a realist, recognizing the actual presence of evil in man and the world. She said in Mystery and Manners, p. 33: "My own feeling is that writers who see by the light of the Christian faith will have, in these times, the sharpest eyes for the grotesque, for the perverse, and for the unacceptable."
Jose Jimenez Lozano, an acclaimed Spanish novelist, in an interview in the Flannery O'Connor Review, expressed his opinion that O'Connor's use of the exaggerated, the grotesque, while it may "seem like dark pessimism, or even the Apocalypse, to a world for which evil does not exist, or is merely circumstantial and will be expelled through pedagogy and progress"(p. 159), is actually connected to "the trust she placed in the capacity of the comical to reveal and express reality, and even to break what might be considered the law, or the necessity, of a reality possessed by evil. With the comical, reality opens itself up to another reality, which is hope." (ibid.)
In another portion of the interview (p.161), Lozano says that when we laugh at certain passages, we "locate ourselves in the world of freedom and play, and the joyfulness that goes with them. . . . Laughter is connected to the world which does not exist, with the world turned upside down, and with our rejection of the real, historical world for another one which is invisible but also real, which we truly inhabit when we laugh. . . .The humor in Flannery O'Connor's writing truly liberates us and brings hope to the darkness or the ferocity of the story she tells."
I mentioned Lincoln's humorous-serious question, "What is the best way to defeat your enemy? You can best defeat your enemy by making him your friend." On another occasion he suggested that those Southerners who were want to extoll the positive benefits of slavery for slaves, would do well to consider assuming the yoke to benefit themselves!
These examples well describe the power of humor to paint an alternate "comic" reality at odds with a dire actuality. And as Lozano notes, this "world turned upside down" is a source of joy. In fact, isn't it the only source of joy? No wonder Screwtape says that this kind of laughter "does us no good" and "is of itself disgusting and a direct insult to the realism, dignity, and austerity of Hell." Laughter truly is an insult to the actuality of evil. The book's frontspiece quotes indicate that this is Lewis' central maneuver in Screwtape Letters.
O'Connor, as a Christian, was a realist, recognizing the actual presence of evil in man and the world. She said in Mystery and Manners, p. 33: "My own feeling is that writers who see by the light of the Christian faith will have, in these times, the sharpest eyes for the grotesque, for the perverse, and for the unacceptable."
Jose Jimenez Lozano, an acclaimed Spanish novelist, in an interview in the Flannery O'Connor Review, expressed his opinion that O'Connor's use of the exaggerated, the grotesque, while it may "seem like dark pessimism, or even the Apocalypse, to a world for which evil does not exist, or is merely circumstantial and will be expelled through pedagogy and progress"(p. 159), is actually connected to "the trust she placed in the capacity of the comical to reveal and express reality, and even to break what might be considered the law, or the necessity, of a reality possessed by evil. With the comical, reality opens itself up to another reality, which is hope." (ibid.)
In another portion of the interview (p.161), Lozano says that when we laugh at certain passages, we "locate ourselves in the world of freedom and play, and the joyfulness that goes with them. . . . Laughter is connected to the world which does not exist, with the world turned upside down, and with our rejection of the real, historical world for another one which is invisible but also real, which we truly inhabit when we laugh. . . .The humor in Flannery O'Connor's writing truly liberates us and brings hope to the darkness or the ferocity of the story she tells."
I mentioned Lincoln's humorous-serious question, "What is the best way to defeat your enemy? You can best defeat your enemy by making him your friend." On another occasion he suggested that those Southerners who were want to extoll the positive benefits of slavery for slaves, would do well to consider assuming the yoke to benefit themselves!
These examples well describe the power of humor to paint an alternate "comic" reality at odds with a dire actuality. And as Lozano notes, this "world turned upside down" is a source of joy. In fact, isn't it the only source of joy? No wonder Screwtape says that this kind of laughter "does us no good" and "is of itself disgusting and a direct insult to the realism, dignity, and austerity of Hell." Laughter truly is an insult to the actuality of evil. The book's frontspiece quotes indicate that this is Lewis' central maneuver in Screwtape Letters.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
The "Heart" of Christian Action
I would like to comment on Lewis' (Screwtape's) reference to the Heart in Chapter 6.
After talking about how to think of humans as "concentric circles" consisting of fantasy (at the outermost), then intellect, then will (at the center), he says he wants "things that smell of the Enemy" to be pushed out to the periphery (into fantasy), and "all the desirable qualities" inward into the Will.
Screwtape then says: "It is only in so far as they reach the will and are there embodied in habits that the virtues are really fatal to us. (I don't of course mean what the patient mistakes for his will, the conscious fume and fret of resolutions and clenched teeth, but the real centre, what the Enemy calls the Heart.)" (emphasis added)
This week I read the following about the Heart: "The Judeo-Christian tradition brought a new element - heart - into the science of virtues: 'When Holy Scripture refers to the heart,' says Escriva, 'it does not refer to some fleeting sentiment of joy or tears. By heart it means the personality which directs its whole being, body and soul, to what it considers its good, as Jesus Himself indicated: 'For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.'. . .When we speak of a person's heart, we refer not just to his sentiments, but to the whole person.' The heart is 'the summary and source, expression and ultimate basis, of one's thoughts, words and actions. A man is worth what his heart is worth.'" Virtuous Leadership, Alexandre Havard, p. 122-23, quoting J. Escriva, Christ is Passing By, no. 164.
It seems Lewis has it just right in his reference to the Heart.
What is the work of the Heart? With Valentine's Day's "hearts," our school kids' effort to "Open Our Hearts to Lagunita" (the Guatemala school it supports at this time of the year), and Fr. Don's touching homily last Sunday in connection with the gospels of healing we have been reading these weeks, I wondered how we should understand the work of the Heart in Christian life.
In reference to Jesus' healing, and Mother Teresa's work, the word "hospitality" came to mind as describing a primary activity of the heart, charity's going out to invite in. The word "hospital" hides (not too deliberately) in this word. So, our Heart, it seems, could be thought of as a hospital, wherein we offer accommodation to those who are in need of healing. A touch of friendship expressed in a child's valentine, a note of condolence to a grieving friend, a word of encouragement, a moment of listening -- in each the Heart is at its work of hospitality, of healing. Isn't this the "heart" of our work as practicing Christians?
After talking about how to think of humans as "concentric circles" consisting of fantasy (at the outermost), then intellect, then will (at the center), he says he wants "things that smell of the Enemy" to be pushed out to the periphery (into fantasy), and "all the desirable qualities" inward into the Will.
Screwtape then says: "It is only in so far as they reach the will and are there embodied in habits that the virtues are really fatal to us. (I don't of course mean what the patient mistakes for his will, the conscious fume and fret of resolutions and clenched teeth, but the real centre, what the Enemy calls the Heart.)" (emphasis added)
This week I read the following about the Heart: "The Judeo-Christian tradition brought a new element - heart - into the science of virtues: 'When Holy Scripture refers to the heart,' says Escriva, 'it does not refer to some fleeting sentiment of joy or tears. By heart it means the personality which directs its whole being, body and soul, to what it considers its good, as Jesus Himself indicated: 'For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.'. . .When we speak of a person's heart, we refer not just to his sentiments, but to the whole person.' The heart is 'the summary and source, expression and ultimate basis, of one's thoughts, words and actions. A man is worth what his heart is worth.'" Virtuous Leadership, Alexandre Havard, p. 122-23, quoting J. Escriva, Christ is Passing By, no. 164.
It seems Lewis has it just right in his reference to the Heart.
What is the work of the Heart? With Valentine's Day's "hearts," our school kids' effort to "Open Our Hearts to Lagunita" (the Guatemala school it supports at this time of the year), and Fr. Don's touching homily last Sunday in connection with the gospels of healing we have been reading these weeks, I wondered how we should understand the work of the Heart in Christian life.
In reference to Jesus' healing, and Mother Teresa's work, the word "hospitality" came to mind as describing a primary activity of the heart, charity's going out to invite in. The word "hospital" hides (not too deliberately) in this word. So, our Heart, it seems, could be thought of as a hospital, wherein we offer accommodation to those who are in need of healing. A touch of friendship expressed in a child's valentine, a note of condolence to a grieving friend, a word of encouragement, a moment of listening -- in each the Heart is at its work of hospitality, of healing. Isn't this the "heart" of our work as practicing Christians?
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
"Belief cannot argue with unbelief, it can only preach to it."
One of the things I feel I failed to do very well is to instill in my kids a better appreciation of their faith, our Catholic faith. Of course, the best way to do this is through example, especially when trying to impress children. The fact is I was still trying to gain a better appreciation myself. So they experienced a man searching for the treasure rather than one who, having the treasure in hand, could confidently display it to them.
I still have the opportunity to prove by example even though they are all grown and my contact with them is mostly at family events and holidays. I occasionally try to express my faith to them. One might say I try to argue my case. Arguing taken to mean to make a point through reason-able means, not arguing in the sense of two sides defending opposing positions. When it comes to matters of faith however, one can only make reasonable arguments if the listener agrees to certain basic beliefs. Without such beliefs in common no argument can be made. Hence, one cannot argue with unbelief.
Preaching is different. The preacher only wants to deliver the message. Of course the preacher hopes that he convinces the audience, but, he does not have to rely on reason to be convincing. He can rely on all manner of emotional and rhetorical devices to make his case without any concern for their reasonableness. Nor does the preacher have to search and establish a common ground before making his case. He says what he believes and the listener can take it or leave it.
As for my kids, I'm still seeking to find agreement on certain basic beliefs so that I can present reasonable ideas. When I'm on my soapbox though, I'm sure they're thinking, "There he goes, preaching again!"
I still have the opportunity to prove by example even though they are all grown and my contact with them is mostly at family events and holidays. I occasionally try to express my faith to them. One might say I try to argue my case. Arguing taken to mean to make a point through reason-able means, not arguing in the sense of two sides defending opposing positions. When it comes to matters of faith however, one can only make reasonable arguments if the listener agrees to certain basic beliefs. Without such beliefs in common no argument can be made. Hence, one cannot argue with unbelief.
Preaching is different. The preacher only wants to deliver the message. Of course the preacher hopes that he convinces the audience, but, he does not have to rely on reason to be convincing. He can rely on all manner of emotional and rhetorical devices to make his case without any concern for their reasonableness. Nor does the preacher have to search and establish a common ground before making his case. He says what he believes and the listener can take it or leave it.
As for my kids, I'm still seeking to find agreement on certain basic beliefs so that I can present reasonable ideas. When I'm on my soapbox though, I'm sure they're thinking, "There he goes, preaching again!"
The Devil and Hope
If you surveyed Catholic believers as to whether or not they believe in hell and the existence of the devil we might find a good deal of skepticism. C. S. Lewis certainly believes them to exist and in the Screwtape Letters, in a very entertaining fashion, points out how these devils exploit our fallen human nature. Of course, as Catholic Christians we do believe in the existence of the devil. I'm certain that most of our Protestant brothers and sisters believe as well.
Now, we may choose to incorporate this belief into our spiritual lives to whatever extent we wish. Certainly, instead of thinking of our quest for holiness as a battle with the demons we can instead look at it as a journey toward perfection through the practice of virtue. This is what most people would feel to be a more positive approach.
However, belief in an active and sinister demon at work attempting to move us into his house can have a positive side. It provides us with hope and reassurance. The hope is that there exists, as well, angels and saints whose purpose is to bring us into the house of our Father. We can be reassured that the communion of saints is out there ready to be called to our aid when we ask for it. Virtue is much more attainable with all the help they can provide. A belief in the presence evil forces can only make the existence of these holy forces more real for us.
The words of the Eucharistic prayers come to mind.
"May their merits and prayers gain us your constant help and protection."
"May he [Jesus] ... enable us to share in the inheritance of your saints, ... on whose constant intersession we rely for help."
Now, we may choose to incorporate this belief into our spiritual lives to whatever extent we wish. Certainly, instead of thinking of our quest for holiness as a battle with the demons we can instead look at it as a journey toward perfection through the practice of virtue. This is what most people would feel to be a more positive approach.
However, belief in an active and sinister demon at work attempting to move us into his house can have a positive side. It provides us with hope and reassurance. The hope is that there exists, as well, angels and saints whose purpose is to bring us into the house of our Father. We can be reassured that the communion of saints is out there ready to be called to our aid when we ask for it. Virtue is much more attainable with all the help they can provide. A belief in the presence evil forces can only make the existence of these holy forces more real for us.
The words of the Eucharistic prayers come to mind.
"May their merits and prayers gain us your constant help and protection."
"May he [Jesus] ... enable us to share in the inheritance of your saints, ... on whose constant intersession we rely for help."
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
The importance of Biblical reliability and can we be good without God.
This is from a blog post from Rod Dreher's "Crunchy Con" blog (http://blog.beliefnet.com/crunchycon/2009/02/god-the-sex-vote-and-human-dig.html) and comes at the beginning (the rest of the post is long passages from another article and not specifically related to Biblical reliability). I thought the text he cited from his review of the book by the Episcopal priestess was the most telling:
Do you ever wonder why the poor and the working classes, if they're religious-minded, are almost always followers of the most conservative forms of religion? And why the wealthier you are, the more likely you are to be a partisan of liberal religion, if you're a partisan of religion at all? You could say it's a matter of education, but correlation does not equal causation. I think it has more to do with the kinds of lives poor and working-class people lead. I've written before here about how the deep need for some sense of structure and guidance in her life and the life of her kids brought our former cleaning lady, a Mexican immigrant, into the Pentecostal church. She was not remotely a theological sophisticate, but she knew she needed Jesus, and she needed Jesus in a direct way, and in a practical way. That it's hard for the Catholic Church or the Orthodox Church, or the mainline Protestant churches, in this country to reach people like her, right here in our own country, ought to make us reflect on the shortcomings of bourgeois religion, and bourgeois religiosity.
Here's what I mean: if this woman, Maria, and her teenage girls came to our parish, they would certainly be welcome. They would be in the presence of a liturgy of unparalleled beauty, and indeed in the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist. But if they had no prior experience of Orthodoxy, I wonder if they'd come back? It's not like we're a wealthy parish or anything, but the Orthodox faith takes work to get to know. Similarly, as a Catholic I was often amazed and grateful for the depth and beauty of the Catholic faith, but I often sat in mass wondering what would keep a lost soul from the underclass coming back to church. I know enough about the charismatic churches to know that whatever they lack in theological depth and sophistication, they make up for in speaking directly and realistically to the struggles of those on the economic margins. Whatever the criticism I have of those churches and their theologies, I am grateful for them, because they're reaching people who are drowning in this cultural tempest, and offering them a lifeline that these folks just aren't finding at the more established churches.
To illustrate the point further, here's a passage from a review I once did of the Rev. Chloe Breyer's book about her Episcopal seminary years:
Chloe decides to set up a Bible study for a group of Bellevue patients who are in from Rikers Island, the notorious city prison. She plays a video segment from the Bill Moyers series Genesis. The inmates see Bible scholars agreeing that Genesis gives us plenty of questions, but few answers. Her students don't get it.
"They're supposed to be experts, right?" says Tyrone. "So then why are they giving us all this stuff about not having any answers? I mean, it doesn't take a Ph.D. not to have answers! And if they don't have any answers, then who does?"
Others chime in with contempt for the equivocating liberal scholars Breyer so admires. Finally, a Muslim convert speaks up. "See, this is what I'm telling you, man. The Koran is the place to go for answers! . . . I became a Muslim because the Koran has the most truth in it. You don't argue about what it means. You read it, and you know what to do. The Prophet got the word directly from God."
"Is that right?" asks Tyrone. "Is that how it is? The Koran has more answers than the Bible?" Undeterred, and unable to grasp the significance of the moment, Breyer sets out to teach these poor sinners that the Bible doesn't have to be taken literally. There are lots of gray areas, she tells them, and they should feel empowered by the fact that they can interpret Scripture any way they like. The inmates are unmoved.
"They want answers, not questions," Breyer writes. "[T]he more contradictions I point out in the Bible, the more the inmates decide there is no point in wasting their time with a religion that lacks answers."
In other words, the people who have the most to lose from a life without moral boundaries are those who have the most attraction to strict religion. I know, I know, there are exceptions. But I believe it to be true that those who support a libertine cultural politics are those who either have not thought about the consequences of their politics on the broader society, or don't have to think about it because they can't imagine paying a material price for living by those principles.
(snip)
I don't think there is nearly enough understanding in America today, and not only among liberals, for how necessary a strong belief in God is for most people -- especially the poor and working classes -- to build lives of dignity and order. I think about how poor my ancestors were, and not too far back, and how the only thing they had was their God and their dignity. Not all of them did, and amid the same material deprivation, they led lives of squalor and disorder. It's hard to make a direct comparison, of course, especially over time, but it occurs to me that they were as secular as any educated upper-middle set, but they were poor, and made room for nothing to keep them morally anchored, and aware of the dignity that they possessed as creatures of God. And what that required of them. Having read the galleys of Julie Lyons' upcoming book about her black Pentecostal congregation in poverty-stricken south Dallas, I am more convinced than ever that when you are living in conditions of poverty and moral chaos, the church is the only thing that will save you (and I'm not talking about in an eschatological sense). Again, I recall Robert D. Kaplan's discussion of how whatever you might say about Islam's strictures, the Islamic faith made it possible for the people of Egypt to endure lives of great stress and suffering while keeping social order and dignity.
We don't understand these things in America today. But we might yet again. The hard way. I mean this: Can we be good without God?
Do you ever wonder why the poor and the working classes, if they're religious-minded, are almost always followers of the most conservative forms of religion? And why the wealthier you are, the more likely you are to be a partisan of liberal religion, if you're a partisan of religion at all? You could say it's a matter of education, but correlation does not equal causation. I think it has more to do with the kinds of lives poor and working-class people lead. I've written before here about how the deep need for some sense of structure and guidance in her life and the life of her kids brought our former cleaning lady, a Mexican immigrant, into the Pentecostal church. She was not remotely a theological sophisticate, but she knew she needed Jesus, and she needed Jesus in a direct way, and in a practical way. That it's hard for the Catholic Church or the Orthodox Church, or the mainline Protestant churches, in this country to reach people like her, right here in our own country, ought to make us reflect on the shortcomings of bourgeois religion, and bourgeois religiosity.
Here's what I mean: if this woman, Maria, and her teenage girls came to our parish, they would certainly be welcome. They would be in the presence of a liturgy of unparalleled beauty, and indeed in the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist. But if they had no prior experience of Orthodoxy, I wonder if they'd come back? It's not like we're a wealthy parish or anything, but the Orthodox faith takes work to get to know. Similarly, as a Catholic I was often amazed and grateful for the depth and beauty of the Catholic faith, but I often sat in mass wondering what would keep a lost soul from the underclass coming back to church. I know enough about the charismatic churches to know that whatever they lack in theological depth and sophistication, they make up for in speaking directly and realistically to the struggles of those on the economic margins. Whatever the criticism I have of those churches and their theologies, I am grateful for them, because they're reaching people who are drowning in this cultural tempest, and offering them a lifeline that these folks just aren't finding at the more established churches.
To illustrate the point further, here's a passage from a review I once did of the Rev. Chloe Breyer's book about her Episcopal seminary years:
Chloe decides to set up a Bible study for a group of Bellevue patients who are in from Rikers Island, the notorious city prison. She plays a video segment from the Bill Moyers series Genesis. The inmates see Bible scholars agreeing that Genesis gives us plenty of questions, but few answers. Her students don't get it.
"They're supposed to be experts, right?" says Tyrone. "So then why are they giving us all this stuff about not having any answers? I mean, it doesn't take a Ph.D. not to have answers! And if they don't have any answers, then who does?"
Others chime in with contempt for the equivocating liberal scholars Breyer so admires. Finally, a Muslim convert speaks up. "See, this is what I'm telling you, man. The Koran is the place to go for answers! . . . I became a Muslim because the Koran has the most truth in it. You don't argue about what it means. You read it, and you know what to do. The Prophet got the word directly from God."
"Is that right?" asks Tyrone. "Is that how it is? The Koran has more answers than the Bible?" Undeterred, and unable to grasp the significance of the moment, Breyer sets out to teach these poor sinners that the Bible doesn't have to be taken literally. There are lots of gray areas, she tells them, and they should feel empowered by the fact that they can interpret Scripture any way they like. The inmates are unmoved.
"They want answers, not questions," Breyer writes. "[T]he more contradictions I point out in the Bible, the more the inmates decide there is no point in wasting their time with a religion that lacks answers."
In other words, the people who have the most to lose from a life without moral boundaries are those who have the most attraction to strict religion. I know, I know, there are exceptions. But I believe it to be true that those who support a libertine cultural politics are those who either have not thought about the consequences of their politics on the broader society, or don't have to think about it because they can't imagine paying a material price for living by those principles.
I don't think there is nearly enough understanding in America today, and not only among liberals, for how necessary a strong belief in God is for most people -- especially the poor and working classes -- to build lives of dignity and order. I think about how poor my ancestors were, and not too far back, and how the only thing they had was their God and their dignity. Not all of them did, and amid the same material deprivation, they led lives of squalor and disorder. It's hard to make a direct comparison, of course, especially over time, but it occurs to me that they were as secular as any educated upper-middle set, but they were poor, and made room for nothing to keep them morally anchored, and aware of the dignity that they possessed as creatures of God. And what that required of them. Having read the galleys of Julie Lyons' upcoming book about her black Pentecostal congregation in poverty-stricken south Dallas, I am more convinced than ever that when you are living in conditions of poverty and moral chaos, the church is the only thing that will save you (and I'm not talking about in an eschatological sense). Again, I recall Robert D. Kaplan's discussion of how whatever you might say about Islam's strictures, the Islamic faith made it possible for the people of Egypt to endure lives of great stress and suffering while keeping social order and dignity.
We don't understand these things in America today. But we might yet again. The hard way. I mean this: Can we be good without God?
Monday, February 16, 2009
An Action Establishing a Truth That Cannot Be Deconstructed
One of the problems of our contemporary world is the common belief that we can never reach a bedrock truth; all is "interpretation" and "opinion." I read an interesting response by Rene Girard in his recent book Evolution and Conversion, p. 255-56. He is discussing the views of Gianni Vattimo, an Italian philosopher:
"[Vattimo] clearly understands the importance and the centrality of Christian belief in defining the destiny of Western culture and civilization . . . [h]owever, it seems to me there is a problem in his religious perspective because he does not place enough emphasis on the Cross. As I recently wrote, he sees only interpretations in human history and no facts. He aligns himself with the post-Nietzchean tradition in claiming the nonviability of any historical 'truth' and confining the novelty of Christianity to a purely discursive level. For him Christianity is mainly a textual experience, which we only believe in because somebody whom we trust and love told us to do so. . . . there is no grounding, no point of departure in this long chain of good imitation; or at least it is a loose one: the book, that, according to a strict hermeneutical approach, can be subject to any possible interpretation.
"Paul says that the only things he knows are Jesus Christ and him crucified (1 Corinthians 2.2), and this seems to me to be an indirect answer to Vattimo: one can deconstruct any form of mythical or ideological 'truth', but not the Cross, the actual death of the Son of God. That is the centre around which our culture rotates and from which it has evolved. Why should the world have changed if that event did not convey a radical and fundamental anthropological truth to the human being? God provided the text, but also the hermeneutical key with which to read it: the Cross. The two cannot be separated."
What "radical and fundamental anthropological truth" did Christ's action on the Cross establish?
"[Vattimo] clearly understands the importance and the centrality of Christian belief in defining the destiny of Western culture and civilization . . . [h]owever, it seems to me there is a problem in his religious perspective because he does not place enough emphasis on the Cross. As I recently wrote, he sees only interpretations in human history and no facts. He aligns himself with the post-Nietzchean tradition in claiming the nonviability of any historical 'truth' and confining the novelty of Christianity to a purely discursive level. For him Christianity is mainly a textual experience, which we only believe in because somebody whom we trust and love told us to do so. . . . there is no grounding, no point of departure in this long chain of good imitation; or at least it is a loose one: the book, that, according to a strict hermeneutical approach, can be subject to any possible interpretation.
"Paul says that the only things he knows are Jesus Christ and him crucified (1 Corinthians 2.2), and this seems to me to be an indirect answer to Vattimo: one can deconstruct any form of mythical or ideological 'truth', but not the Cross, the actual death of the Son of God. That is the centre around which our culture rotates and from which it has evolved. Why should the world have changed if that event did not convey a radical and fundamental anthropological truth to the human being? God provided the text, but also the hermeneutical key with which to read it: the Cross. The two cannot be separated."
What "radical and fundamental anthropological truth" did Christ's action on the Cross establish?
The Second Coming Revisited
The Diocese of Joliet provides workshops on various topics. As part of these workshops there is a series of lectures on theology. I recently attended a lecture entitled "Creation and Eschatology" given by Fr. John Surette, SJ. Using the theology of Karl Rahner and theologian John Haught, Fr. John provides us with a view of history and our future in the Kingdom as an evolutionary process.
Our recent discussions on the second coming and the final judgment came to mind during his lecture. He offered an explanation of the second coming of Christ, not as some future event, but as a process in which God is an active participant, propelling man toward an ever increasing perfection. Each act of creation being a seed, a promise of advancement toward his Kingdom.
John Haught will be giving two talks at Benedictine Univertsity on March 4th in the evening and March 5th in the afternoon.
Go to www.ben.edu/news/events/event_calendar.asp for more information.
The final talk in the series this spring is on April 28 from 8:30 AM to 10:30 AM. It will be given by Richard McCarron, Ph.D and the topic is “The Eucharist in a World of Hunger”. The talks are held at St. Charles Borromeo Pastoral Center in Romeoville.
Our recent discussions on the second coming and the final judgment came to mind during his lecture. He offered an explanation of the second coming of Christ, not as some future event, but as a process in which God is an active participant, propelling man toward an ever increasing perfection. Each act of creation being a seed, a promise of advancement toward his Kingdom.
John Haught will be giving two talks at Benedictine Univertsity on March 4th in the evening and March 5th in the afternoon.
Go to www.ben.edu/news/events/event_calendar.asp for more information.
The final talk in the series this spring is on April 28 from 8:30 AM to 10:30 AM. It will be given by Richard McCarron, Ph.D and the topic is “The Eucharist in a World of Hunger”. The talks are held at St. Charles Borromeo Pastoral Center in Romeoville.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
We made it to Letter 8 at the last meeting. The meeting was well attended and we had a good discussion.
Some things to think about taken from the next several letters:
Letter nine
"Never forget that when we are dealing with any pleasure in its healthy and normal and satisfying form, we are, in a sense, on the Enemy's ground. I know we have won many a soul through pleasure. All the same, it is His invention not ours."
Letter 10
"... he can be induced to live, as I have known many humans live, for quite long periods, parallel lives; he will not only appear to be, but actually be, a different man in each of the circles he frequents."
Letter 11
"Fun is closely related to joy --a sort of emotional froth arising from the play instinct. It is very little use to us. It can sometimes be used, of course, to divert humans from something else which the Enemy would like them to be feeling or doing: but in itself it has wholly undesirable tendencies; it promotes charity, courage, contentment, and many other evils."
Letter 12
“... you are anxious to be able to report spectacular wickedness. But do remember, the only thing that matters is the extent to which you separate the man from the Enemy. It does not matter how small the sins are provided that their cumulative effect is to edge the man away from the Light and out into the Nothing."
Letter 13
"The great thing is to prevent his doing anything.... Let him do anything but act. No amount of piety in his imagination and affections will harm us if we can keep it out of his will.... The more often he feels without acting, the less he will be able ever to act .... "
Some things to think about taken from the next several letters:
Letter nine
"Never forget that when we are dealing with any pleasure in its healthy and normal and satisfying form, we are, in a sense, on the Enemy's ground. I know we have won many a soul through pleasure. All the same, it is His invention not ours."
Letter 10
"... he can be induced to live, as I have known many humans live, for quite long periods, parallel lives; he will not only appear to be, but actually be, a different man in each of the circles he frequents."
Letter 11
"Fun is closely related to joy --a sort of emotional froth arising from the play instinct. It is very little use to us. It can sometimes be used, of course, to divert humans from something else which the Enemy would like them to be feeling or doing: but in itself it has wholly undesirable tendencies; it promotes charity, courage, contentment, and many other evils."
Letter 12
“... you are anxious to be able to report spectacular wickedness. But do remember, the only thing that matters is the extent to which you separate the man from the Enemy. It does not matter how small the sins are provided that their cumulative effect is to edge the man away from the Light and out into the Nothing."
Letter 13
"The great thing is to prevent his doing anything.... Let him do anything but act. No amount of piety in his imagination and affections will harm us if we can keep it out of his will.... The more often he feels without acting, the less he will be able ever to act .... "
The Crux of Action
What is Lewis driving at in Letter VI? While he uses the word "action" only once, I believe he wants Wormwood to keep his patient from acting to form virtuous habits, which are stable patterns of good behavior.
Screwtape says, "in all activities of mind which favor our cause, encourage the patient to be un-selfconscious . . . [l]et an insult or a woman's body so fix his attention outward that he does not reflect "I am now entering into the state called Anger - or the state called Lust. Contrariwise let the reflection 'My feelings are now growing more devout, or more charitable,' so fix his attention inward that he no longer looks beyond himself to see our Enemy or his own neighbors."
Screwtape counsels raising impediments to the patient's awareness and reasonable appraisal of the situation he is in, so he is not able to respond appropriately. For to act, to respond appropriately and intelligently to a situation, entails a reasonable appraisal of the situation. An act is done consciously, for a reason. Reason saturates an action. And the "will" jump starts it, prods it out of the starting blocks, "into action." ("Indeed, what is called 'the will' is nothing but intelligence in doing; in denying 'will' to an ebbing tide we are refusing to recognize it as an exhibition of intelligence." Michael Oakeshott, On Human Conduct, p. 39.)
The word "action" stands opposite in meaning to the word "reaction," which in its pure form of physical law is automatic and admits of no deliberation or will. (Newton's Third Law: "If body A exerts a force on body B (an 'action'), then body B exerts a force of equal magnitude but opposite direction on body A (a 'reaction').")
As Screwtape admits, true action emerges out of the center of the concentric circles Screwtape tells Wormwood that he should think of humans as possessing, i.e., will [at the core], then intellect, then fantasy (imagination?). True action, as rational action, springs from the center, the "Heart" of the human being!
At bottom, Screwtape wants to discourage the patient from taking actions that form good habits or virtues. For only actions - not fantasies, thoughts or wishes - build up virtues and a virtuous life. As Screwtape observes, "All sorts of virtues painted in the fantasy or approved by the intellect or even, in some measure, loved and admired, will not keep a man from Our Father's house: indeed they make make him more amusing when he gets there."
What "amuses" Screwtape? Isn't it puncturing the pretense? Disenchanting King Midas? Smirking, while watching a person who thought he was "clothed to the nines" in virtue, protest in indignation as his garments are stripped off one by one to reveal the naked, ugly truth?
Screwtape's m.o.? Keep virtue from forming by keeping the patient from truly acting. The antidote? Engage your intelligence and your will. And act. Pick up your cross and carry it, don't just fantasize about it, approve of it, desire it (or write about it!). Act. That's what's crucial!
Screwtape says, "in all activities of mind which favor our cause, encourage the patient to be un-selfconscious . . . [l]et an insult or a woman's body so fix his attention outward that he does not reflect "I am now entering into the state called Anger - or the state called Lust. Contrariwise let the reflection 'My feelings are now growing more devout, or more charitable,' so fix his attention inward that he no longer looks beyond himself to see our Enemy or his own neighbors."
Screwtape counsels raising impediments to the patient's awareness and reasonable appraisal of the situation he is in, so he is not able to respond appropriately. For to act, to respond appropriately and intelligently to a situation, entails a reasonable appraisal of the situation. An act is done consciously, for a reason. Reason saturates an action. And the "will" jump starts it, prods it out of the starting blocks, "into action." ("Indeed, what is called 'the will' is nothing but intelligence in doing; in denying 'will' to an ebbing tide we are refusing to recognize it as an exhibition of intelligence." Michael Oakeshott, On Human Conduct, p. 39.)
The word "action" stands opposite in meaning to the word "reaction," which in its pure form of physical law is automatic and admits of no deliberation or will. (Newton's Third Law: "If body A exerts a force on body B (an 'action'), then body B exerts a force of equal magnitude but opposite direction on body A (a 'reaction').")
As Screwtape admits, true action emerges out of the center of the concentric circles Screwtape tells Wormwood that he should think of humans as possessing, i.e., will [at the core], then intellect, then fantasy (imagination?). True action, as rational action, springs from the center, the "Heart" of the human being!
At bottom, Screwtape wants to discourage the patient from taking actions that form good habits or virtues. For only actions - not fantasies, thoughts or wishes - build up virtues and a virtuous life. As Screwtape observes, "All sorts of virtues painted in the fantasy or approved by the intellect or even, in some measure, loved and admired, will not keep a man from Our Father's house: indeed they make make him more amusing when he gets there."
What "amuses" Screwtape? Isn't it puncturing the pretense? Disenchanting King Midas? Smirking, while watching a person who thought he was "clothed to the nines" in virtue, protest in indignation as his garments are stripped off one by one to reveal the naked, ugly truth?
Screwtape's m.o.? Keep virtue from forming by keeping the patient from truly acting. The antidote? Engage your intelligence and your will. And act. Pick up your cross and carry it, don't just fantasize about it, approve of it, desire it (or write about it!). Act. That's what's crucial!
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Another Question About Culture
Here's another question for you: What did Helen Keller do for "the rest of her life"? And when you answer that, ask yourself, why didn't you know? (This from Lies My Teacher Told Me, James W. Loewen, Ch. 1.)
Monday, February 9, 2009
Saturday, February 7, 2009
The Power of the Culture
If anyone doubts the power of culture to influence and even control at times how we think, I invite you to answer the following question, which I got from Halpern, Thought and Knowledge: An Introduction to Critical Thinking, p. 15:
"A young boy and his father went for a Sunday drive. A drunken driver swerved in front of their car, killing the father on impact. The young boy was rushed to the nearest hospital where the chief of neurosurgery was summoned to perform an operation. Upon seeing the boy, the chief of neurosurgery cried out, "I can't operate on him, he's my son!" How is this possible?"
If anyone doubts the power of culture to influence and even control at times how we think, I invite you to answer the following question, which I got from Halpern, Thought and Knowledge: An Introduction to Critical Thinking, p. 15:
"A young boy and his father went for a Sunday drive. A drunken driver swerved in front of their car, killing the father on impact. The young boy was rushed to the nearest hospital where the chief of neurosurgery was summoned to perform an operation. Upon seeing the boy, the chief of neurosurgery cried out, "I can't operate on him, he's my son!" How is this possible?"
Friday, February 6, 2009
More on Contented Worldliness
I had the good fortune to visit the Schoenstaat Center in Waukesha, Wisconsin over Christmas. I became aware of it through an article I read about Fr. Kentenich, its founder. The article is entitled "The Mass Man and the Free Personality in the Pedagogical Thinking and Practice of Josef Kentenich," by Sr. Doria Schlickmann. (I can email you a copy if you have an interest.)
Fr. Kentenich experienced first hand the tyranny of Naziism, having fallen into the hands of the Gestapo, and spending 4 years in Dachau. Fr. Kentenich reflected on the National Socialist experience and saw in it the elaboration of a symptom he observed in the culture at large. As he saw it, in the modern, pluralistic-democratic forms of society, there is an increasing agglomeration of people, who are more and more subject to stimulation and even manipulation and control from the outside through advertising, entertainment, and the whole world of "opinion-shaping" media. In conjunction with these modes of "external control," he perceived that people were too often "too little interiorly seized by God, as if the baptismal water does not penetrate the interior of the person." He saw a mere aping of religious exercises. He described this type of person as "mass man, one who does and thinks what the others do and think because the others do and think it."
The experience of National Socialism, to Fr. Kentenich, was an extreme example of this mass passivity and control, which he even called a "mass demonic possession." He stated, "If Christ wants to elevate his members to the full awareness of their dignity, to the nobility of the children of God, then the intentions of Satan tend toward the depersonalization of his followers and their dissolution in the masses." Fr. Kentenich continued (this was said in 1950), "The man who does not live according to [God's] order of being, will sink to brutality and bestiality . . . There you have the situation of the person today, as we experienced it in the concentration camps and as we will experience it even more drastically in the forseeable future . . . The homo sapiens becomes homo faber; the homo faber becomes the homo lupus; the homo lupus becomes the homo diabolicus . . ."
(Certainly this is the basic approach of Screwtape and Wormwood, don't you agree? To give just one example, in Ch., XII, Screwtape says, ". . . even in things indifferent it is always desirable to substitute the standards of the World, or convention, or fashion, for a human's own real likings and dislikings. I myself would carry this very far . . . You should always try to make the patient abandon the people or food or books he really likes in favor of the 'best' people, the 'right' food, the 'important' books.")
Fr. Kentenich saw his primary work as strengthening the individual to resist the blind drive to imitate, and to gain an inner stability to compete with the external undertow of modern culture. What I thought very interesting was that he asserted the need, the primacy, of self-education to accomplish this.
As Sr. Doria puts in, "The free personality develops only where the individual -- even under pressure from manifold external controls -- finds a possibility for independent growth and maturity. Self-education, that is, work on oneself in an ethical and religious sense, should begin as early as possible. . . Kentenich said, 'All education has only the one purpose, to set the self-education (of the educand) in motion.' The educator will become an effective example only insofar as he gives self-education the absolute primacy also in his own self. All education begins with self-education -- and that means the self-education of the educator."
Self-education is not a piling up of abstract, learned facts, or the development of technical prowess. Nor is it thoughtless imitation, which generates division (envy, jealousy, rivalry, and anger). Rather, it is a process that leads the educand to value himself or herself as a unique, original person, loved by God, and willed by God to love. Fr. Kentenich stressed God is not the judging, wrathful God and Ruler of the world that hungers for reparation, but the loving Father God, who loves his children not because they are good, but because He is good. Fr. Kentenich said, "We must imitate the pedegogy of God! This is a pedagogy of love and freedom."
I am reminded of what Gil Bailie said about Christ, "He was the perfect embodiment of obedience, freedom and authority." This is road we are called to walk, in His footsteps. Satan, on the other hand, cannot understand this love and freedom. As Lewis relates in Ch. XIX, Satan just doesn't "get" love, can't understand how someone can love. For him, "to be" human means to be in competition. And devils can only "consume" others, not love them.
If our culture is to be healed, we must take up our responsibility for self-education. As Sr. Doria said, only when we educate ourselves can we ed-ucate our loved ones, that is, lead them out, in an exodus, from a land of external control and mass mindedness, which is slavery, to the love and freedom of the land God promises to those who know the truth.
Quite some time ago I came across the following cartoon. It speaks to me about how important it is for each of us to try to get to the truth of things. As the picture shows, you become what you see. How do you see things? The gift and challenge of being human is, only you can answer that question!
I had the good fortune to visit the Schoenstaat Center in Waukesha, Wisconsin over Christmas. I became aware of it through an article I read about Fr. Kentenich, its founder. The article is entitled "The Mass Man and the Free Personality in the Pedagogical Thinking and Practice of Josef Kentenich," by Sr. Doria Schlickmann. (I can email you a copy if you have an interest.)
Fr. Kentenich experienced first hand the tyranny of Naziism, having fallen into the hands of the Gestapo, and spending 4 years in Dachau. Fr. Kentenich reflected on the National Socialist experience and saw in it the elaboration of a symptom he observed in the culture at large. As he saw it, in the modern, pluralistic-democratic forms of society, there is an increasing agglomeration of people, who are more and more subject to stimulation and even manipulation and control from the outside through advertising, entertainment, and the whole world of "opinion-shaping" media. In conjunction with these modes of "external control," he perceived that people were too often "too little interiorly seized by God, as if the baptismal water does not penetrate the interior of the person." He saw a mere aping of religious exercises. He described this type of person as "mass man, one who does and thinks what the others do and think because the others do and think it."
The experience of National Socialism, to Fr. Kentenich, was an extreme example of this mass passivity and control, which he even called a "mass demonic possession." He stated, "If Christ wants to elevate his members to the full awareness of their dignity, to the nobility of the children of God, then the intentions of Satan tend toward the depersonalization of his followers and their dissolution in the masses." Fr. Kentenich continued (this was said in 1950), "The man who does not live according to [God's] order of being, will sink to brutality and bestiality . . . There you have the situation of the person today, as we experienced it in the concentration camps and as we will experience it even more drastically in the forseeable future . . . The homo sapiens becomes homo faber; the homo faber becomes the homo lupus; the homo lupus becomes the homo diabolicus . . ."
(Certainly this is the basic approach of Screwtape and Wormwood, don't you agree? To give just one example, in Ch., XII, Screwtape says, ". . . even in things indifferent it is always desirable to substitute the standards of the World, or convention, or fashion, for a human's own real likings and dislikings. I myself would carry this very far . . . You should always try to make the patient abandon the people or food or books he really likes in favor of the 'best' people, the 'right' food, the 'important' books.")
Fr. Kentenich saw his primary work as strengthening the individual to resist the blind drive to imitate, and to gain an inner stability to compete with the external undertow of modern culture. What I thought very interesting was that he asserted the need, the primacy, of self-education to accomplish this.
As Sr. Doria puts in, "The free personality develops only where the individual -- even under pressure from manifold external controls -- finds a possibility for independent growth and maturity. Self-education, that is, work on oneself in an ethical and religious sense, should begin as early as possible. . . Kentenich said, 'All education has only the one purpose, to set the self-education (of the educand) in motion.' The educator will become an effective example only insofar as he gives self-education the absolute primacy also in his own self. All education begins with self-education -- and that means the self-education of the educator."
Self-education is not a piling up of abstract, learned facts, or the development of technical prowess. Nor is it thoughtless imitation, which generates division (envy, jealousy, rivalry, and anger). Rather, it is a process that leads the educand to value himself or herself as a unique, original person, loved by God, and willed by God to love. Fr. Kentenich stressed God is not the judging, wrathful God and Ruler of the world that hungers for reparation, but the loving Father God, who loves his children not because they are good, but because He is good. Fr. Kentenich said, "We must imitate the pedegogy of God! This is a pedagogy of love and freedom."
I am reminded of what Gil Bailie said about Christ, "He was the perfect embodiment of obedience, freedom and authority." This is road we are called to walk, in His footsteps. Satan, on the other hand, cannot understand this love and freedom. As Lewis relates in Ch. XIX, Satan just doesn't "get" love, can't understand how someone can love. For him, "to be" human means to be in competition. And devils can only "consume" others, not love them.
If our culture is to be healed, we must take up our responsibility for self-education. As Sr. Doria said, only when we educate ourselves can we ed-ucate our loved ones, that is, lead them out, in an exodus, from a land of external control and mass mindedness, which is slavery, to the love and freedom of the land God promises to those who know the truth.
Quite some time ago I came across the following cartoon. It speaks to me about how important it is for each of us to try to get to the truth of things. As the picture shows, you become what you see. How do you see things? The gift and challenge of being human is, only you can answer that question!
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Help from Habakkuk
I was ill prepared for my Wednesday night session with the eight graders and had not picked out a bible reading for that night. So I went to some of my favorite lines in the Bible from Habakkuk.
I hear and my body trembles;
at the sound my lips quiver.
Decay invades my bones,
my legs tremble beneath me.
I await the day of distress
that will come upon the people who attack us.
For though the fig tree blossom not
nor the fruit be on the vines,
Though the yield of the olive fail
and the terraces produce no nourishment,
Though the flocks disappear from the fold
and there be no herd in the stalls,
Yet will I rejoice in the Lord
and exult in my saving God.
God, my Lord, is my strength;
he makes my feet swift as those of hinds
and enables me to go upon the heights.
Every day we are bombarded by bad news. The blossoms of prosperity on the tree that is our country are not to be seen. Thousands of jobs are lost every day. Homes are being lost by those no longer able to afford them.
For those fortunate enough to have a job it seems that we must work harder and little progress is made. The result of our labors diminishes as we expend more effort.
Many disappear from the fold as we continue to squander the gift of life and refuse to celebrate it and afford it the dignity it deserves.
Burdened by these ponderous realities, we can be frozen in action. We are distracted from the little human foibles Screwtape revels in and so take no action against them. Yet, if we take Habakkuk’s final thought to heart we can allow these ponderous realities to be handled by our saving God and in him can find the energy to go upon the heights, far above Screwtape’s and Wormwood’s machinations.
I hear and my body trembles;
at the sound my lips quiver.
Decay invades my bones,
my legs tremble beneath me.
I await the day of distress
that will come upon the people who attack us.
For though the fig tree blossom not
nor the fruit be on the vines,
Though the yield of the olive fail
and the terraces produce no nourishment,
Though the flocks disappear from the fold
and there be no herd in the stalls,
Yet will I rejoice in the Lord
and exult in my saving God.
God, my Lord, is my strength;
he makes my feet swift as those of hinds
and enables me to go upon the heights.
Every day we are bombarded by bad news. The blossoms of prosperity on the tree that is our country are not to be seen. Thousands of jobs are lost every day. Homes are being lost by those no longer able to afford them.
For those fortunate enough to have a job it seems that we must work harder and little progress is made. The result of our labors diminishes as we expend more effort.
Many disappear from the fold as we continue to squander the gift of life and refuse to celebrate it and afford it the dignity it deserves.
Burdened by these ponderous realities, we can be frozen in action. We are distracted from the little human foibles Screwtape revels in and so take no action against them. Yet, if we take Habakkuk’s final thought to heart we can allow these ponderous realities to be handled by our saving God and in him can find the energy to go upon the heights, far above Screwtape’s and Wormwood’s machinations.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
How about 'them apples'?
When God comes and upsets the applecart of your life, do you stop and spend time picking up the apples? No, you leave them scattered and follow Him. You drop everything. You count all your losses as rubbish, as Paul says (Phil 3:8). You don't stop to bury the dead. Get thee behind me, Satan. Isn't this what Lewis is basically saying in Ch. 14 (end) when he says, "Even of his sins the Enemy does not want him to think too much: once they are repented, the sooner the man turns his attention outward, the better the Enemy is pleased."
After hearing a call our focus must be outward, not inward, and our attention given to removing and avoiding the "obstacles" to responding (moving closer to God). We see that in Ch. 27, when our "patient" (I'm starting to like that guy!) lays his problem of distraction in prayer before God and makes it "the main theme of his prayers and his endeavors. . . Anything, even a sin, which has the total effect of moving him close up to the Enemy makes against us in the long run."
So, the attention we give to our sins (weaknesses), and our attitude toward them, is to repent and move on, hopefully to thrust away once and for all (knowing it's not so easy) the roadblocks of sin as so much chaff, so we can walk in His Way. (Ps.1). This is our "work" of "progressive conversion." I think that's a fitting end for Eden's "apple," don't you?
When God comes and upsets the applecart of your life, do you stop and spend time picking up the apples? No, you leave them scattered and follow Him. You drop everything. You count all your losses as rubbish, as Paul says (Phil 3:8). You don't stop to bury the dead. Get thee behind me, Satan. Isn't this what Lewis is basically saying in Ch. 14 (end) when he says, "Even of his sins the Enemy does not want him to think too much: once they are repented, the sooner the man turns his attention outward, the better the Enemy is pleased."
After hearing a call our focus must be outward, not inward, and our attention given to removing and avoiding the "obstacles" to responding (moving closer to God). We see that in Ch. 27, when our "patient" (I'm starting to like that guy!) lays his problem of distraction in prayer before God and makes it "the main theme of his prayers and his endeavors. . . Anything, even a sin, which has the total effect of moving him close up to the Enemy makes against us in the long run."
So, the attention we give to our sins (weaknesses), and our attitude toward them, is to repent and move on, hopefully to thrust away once and for all (knowing it's not so easy) the roadblocks of sin as so much chaff, so we can walk in His Way. (Ps.1). This is our "work" of "progressive conversion." I think that's a fitting end for Eden's "apple," don't you?
Monday, February 2, 2009
More on "Contented Worldliness"
C. S Lewis’ letters serve the purpose of exposing to us our spiritual weaknesses. Those aspects of our nature that the devil makes use of to gain control of our lives. If these weaknesses were apparent to us and if the means to strengthen ourselves against them were equally as apparent, what need would we have of C. S. Lewis.
The gospel message is simple. There is no need to intellectualize our behaviors and attitudes. We are human and we have very few weaknesses that are unique to ourselves. When it comes to weaknesses we share many. This is an essential component of the command to love one another. Only in the acknowledgement of our common weaknesses do we find the ability to forgive others and maintain a charitable attitude toward them.
It is not “dirty laundry” I am seeking and perhaps the word “indict” was a poor choice. Yet, it is through my not understanding my weaknesses that I personally make myself vulnerable to evil. I can be carried away through false concepts and rationalizations to the detriment of my soul. As I said, such false concepts and rationalizations are not unique to me. If I need the help of others to recognize them, then as a Christian, undergoing a progressive conversion, I seek from my fellow Christians an identification of what these weaknesses might be.
I do not seek to be personally accused nor do I seek personal confessions from my fellow Christians. Knowing what sin is does not make me a sinner. Personal knowledge of spiritual and moral weaknesses of course makes me a perfect one to point out such weaknesses and, if I am seeking a progressive conversion and I am willing to minister to my community, it provides me an opportunity to reveal how I am fighting these weaknesses. On the other hand, it does not mean that I cannot understand spiritual pitfalls even though I may not be guilt of them myself. It does not mean that I can’t understand the meaning of ‘contented worldliness’ unless I am guilt of that attitude.
The gospel message is simple. There is no need to intellectualize our behaviors and attitudes. We are human and we have very few weaknesses that are unique to ourselves. When it comes to weaknesses we share many. This is an essential component of the command to love one another. Only in the acknowledgement of our common weaknesses do we find the ability to forgive others and maintain a charitable attitude toward them.
It is not “dirty laundry” I am seeking and perhaps the word “indict” was a poor choice. Yet, it is through my not understanding my weaknesses that I personally make myself vulnerable to evil. I can be carried away through false concepts and rationalizations to the detriment of my soul. As I said, such false concepts and rationalizations are not unique to me. If I need the help of others to recognize them, then as a Christian, undergoing a progressive conversion, I seek from my fellow Christians an identification of what these weaknesses might be.
I do not seek to be personally accused nor do I seek personal confessions from my fellow Christians. Knowing what sin is does not make me a sinner. Personal knowledge of spiritual and moral weaknesses of course makes me a perfect one to point out such weaknesses and, if I am seeking a progressive conversion and I am willing to minister to my community, it provides me an opportunity to reveal how I am fighting these weaknesses. On the other hand, it does not mean that I cannot understand spiritual pitfalls even though I may not be guilt of them myself. It does not mean that I can’t understand the meaning of ‘contented worldliness’ unless I am guilt of that attitude.
Time to Air the Dirty Laundry?
Bob, how "up close and personal" do you want us to get with our confessions of "conduct and behaviors that indict us"? Shall I share with you (and everyone else) the results of my "examination of conscience"? It would embarrass you and shame me (properly so).
Or shall we stick with generalities, what we've read in the newspapers, or heard about? Then we can either all join together in condemnation, or the "pros" can say X and the "cons" Y. Will that get us anywhere?
(For example, I could tell you that at our SVDP bowling night a couple of weeks ago, that the TV monitors above the alleys were showing an episode of Sex and the City, including a scene where the two actors are in bed having a go-to, very clearly, if not explicitly shown, and how embarassed I was, but did nothing about it, like approach the management, but only "averted" my eyes. We could spend lots of time discussing "what I should have done" and whether the showing, or my inactions, were a sign of "worldly contentedness", or some other malaise, but wouldn't that be pretty much of a waste of time?)
(Or, maybe we should gang up on all those out there who practice birth control, or believe in the "right to choose," embryonic stem-cell research, etc. If we hit 'em hard enough, maybe we can convince them!)
No, it seems to me that each one of us has to examine our own conscience.
Of course, that task itself raises a host of questions. How do I examine my conscience? What is it I am listening to - what do I hear - when my "conscience" speaks (in silence!) to me? (Does it speak in silence?) And how do I act on what I hear?
Contrary to the modern notion that I "am my own man," able to originate my own ideas, it seems to me that what I "hear," what I think, is pretty much dictated by the culture I live in. (Wouldn't I be a Muslim today if I had grown up in Saudi Arabia?) Have I ever had any original idea? I don't know of any. It seems like I parrot what I read or hear.
But this rather humbling realization does have a real benefit: it allows me to ask myself, what "culture" am I a reflection of? (Who am I imitating?) (As I've read[!], this "stepping back" is the only way I can "lead" my life, which is what it means to be a "human" animal. Non-human animals don't "lead" their own lives. They can't "get a distance" from themselves, as humans can.)
Now we are in the area of what traditionally has been called "formation of conscience," right? So, shouldn't we talk about how conscience is formed? (How is it that Abram actually heard and responded to God's voice? Moses? Paul? Could God have something to say to little ol' me, too?)
For those of us who are reluctant to go to confession, apparently "because it's not relevant" -- and I am one of those culprits (there's a confession for you!) -- maybe we could talk about why confession might be relevant, is relevant, and why still, few of us go. (Maybe part of the reason is we don't do a real examination of conscience, are unwilling to do one. I hear someone [maybe myself] saying, ". . . all I have to confess are either insipid pecadillos, or black sins I'm too embarrased to tell another human being . . .") I sense pride in that statement, a failure to appreciate the nature of sin. (. . . don't worry about it, God forgives everything in the end. . .) I read somewhere, unless we are conscious of sin, we don't feel a need for God. What has happened to our sense of sin? And as a result, isn't our sense of God diminished?
Another question, are there "techniques" of conscience formation? What role does prayer play? Action? Discussion? Emotion? Cognition? How do we experience revelation (coming from the outside as Cardinal Ratzinger explained), and distinguish it from the devilish "noise" out there? (Or is there yet a third source of "information" out there that is neither from God or from the devil, something neutral, not to be frightened of, science for example?)
Because if we can figure out, among all those out there giving directions, who to listen to, we'll know what direction to take, right? Or at least what direction we will take -- what direction God wants us to take -- even though I bet we won't ever reach unanimity, or cease with discussion and disagreement (and the judgments that give rise to them).
As Matt would say, "Does this make sense?"
At any rate, Bob, I don't think you want to hear any more of my "dirty laundry," and to tell you the truth, anyone else's is probably "too much information" for me, thank you very much! Oh, did I get into the "therapy" group by mistake, and the spirituality group (blog) is down the hall?
Bob, how "up close and personal" do you want us to get with our confessions of "conduct and behaviors that indict us"? Shall I share with you (and everyone else) the results of my "examination of conscience"? It would embarrass you and shame me (properly so).
Or shall we stick with generalities, what we've read in the newspapers, or heard about? Then we can either all join together in condemnation, or the "pros" can say X and the "cons" Y. Will that get us anywhere?
(For example, I could tell you that at our SVDP bowling night a couple of weeks ago, that the TV monitors above the alleys were showing an episode of Sex and the City, including a scene where the two actors are in bed having a go-to, very clearly, if not explicitly shown, and how embarassed I was, but did nothing about it, like approach the management, but only "averted" my eyes. We could spend lots of time discussing "what I should have done" and whether the showing, or my inactions, were a sign of "worldly contentedness", or some other malaise, but wouldn't that be pretty much of a waste of time?)
(Or, maybe we should gang up on all those out there who practice birth control, or believe in the "right to choose," embryonic stem-cell research, etc. If we hit 'em hard enough, maybe we can convince them!)
No, it seems to me that each one of us has to examine our own conscience.
Of course, that task itself raises a host of questions. How do I examine my conscience? What is it I am listening to - what do I hear - when my "conscience" speaks (in silence!) to me? (Does it speak in silence?) And how do I act on what I hear?
Contrary to the modern notion that I "am my own man," able to originate my own ideas, it seems to me that what I "hear," what I think, is pretty much dictated by the culture I live in. (Wouldn't I be a Muslim today if I had grown up in Saudi Arabia?) Have I ever had any original idea? I don't know of any. It seems like I parrot what I read or hear.
But this rather humbling realization does have a real benefit: it allows me to ask myself, what "culture" am I a reflection of? (Who am I imitating?) (As I've read[!], this "stepping back" is the only way I can "lead" my life, which is what it means to be a "human" animal. Non-human animals don't "lead" their own lives. They can't "get a distance" from themselves, as humans can.)
Now we are in the area of what traditionally has been called "formation of conscience," right? So, shouldn't we talk about how conscience is formed? (How is it that Abram actually heard and responded to God's voice? Moses? Paul? Could God have something to say to little ol' me, too?)
For those of us who are reluctant to go to confession, apparently "because it's not relevant" -- and I am one of those culprits (there's a confession for you!) -- maybe we could talk about why confession might be relevant, is relevant, and why still, few of us go. (Maybe part of the reason is we don't do a real examination of conscience, are unwilling to do one. I hear someone [maybe myself] saying, ". . . all I have to confess are either insipid pecadillos, or black sins I'm too embarrased to tell another human being . . .") I sense pride in that statement, a failure to appreciate the nature of sin. (. . . don't worry about it, God forgives everything in the end. . .) I read somewhere, unless we are conscious of sin, we don't feel a need for God. What has happened to our sense of sin? And as a result, isn't our sense of God diminished?
Another question, are there "techniques" of conscience formation? What role does prayer play? Action? Discussion? Emotion? Cognition? How do we experience revelation (coming from the outside as Cardinal Ratzinger explained), and distinguish it from the devilish "noise" out there? (Or is there yet a third source of "information" out there that is neither from God or from the devil, something neutral, not to be frightened of, science for example?)
Because if we can figure out, among all those out there giving directions, who to listen to, we'll know what direction to take, right? Or at least what direction we will take -- what direction God wants us to take -- even though I bet we won't ever reach unanimity, or cease with discussion and disagreement (and the judgments that give rise to them).
As Matt would say, "Does this make sense?"
At any rate, Bob, I don't think you want to hear any more of my "dirty laundry," and to tell you the truth, anyone else's is probably "too much information" for me, thank you very much! Oh, did I get into the "therapy" group by mistake, and the spirituality group (blog) is down the hall?
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Yes, Tom but what is contented worldliness?
Tom – Your posting regarding “contented worldliness” is quite good and brings to bear on the question (What is contented worldliness?) intellectual resources that provide an answer. But, I believe that in order to use C. S. Lewis’ exposition of the devil’s machinations for our own betterment we must identify those of our behaviors and attitudes that indict us of contented worldliness. Where in our everyday lives do we exhibit contented worldliness? How does our culture encourage such behavior? What countermeasures can we take to correct out attitudes and behaviors?
Tom – Your posting regarding “contented worldliness” is quite good and brings to bear on the question (What is contented worldliness?) intellectual resources that provide an answer. But, I believe that in order to use C. S. Lewis’ exposition of the devil’s machinations for our own betterment we must identify those of our behaviors and attitudes that indict us of contented worldliness. Where in our everyday lives do we exhibit contented worldliness? How does our culture encourage such behavior? What countermeasures can we take to correct out attitudes and behaviors?
More on Contented Worldliness
"The world, the flesh and the devil." An unholy trinity. In Ch. X, Screwtape notes that while "the Enemy's servants have been preaching about 'the World' as one of the standard temptations for two thousand years, . . . they have said very little about it for the last few decades." Warnings about "Worldy Vanities" have fallen on deaf ears apparently because people classify them as "Puritanism" -- a kind of extreme asceticism, something "weird" and unnatural, like St. Thomas More wearing a hair shirt.
In Ch. 28, Screwtape urges keeping his nephew's "patient" alive a good long time so he has time "for the difficult task of unravelling [his] soul[ ] from Heaven and building up a firm attachment to the Earth." Screwtape hopes either for "attrition" - drabness and resentment, or "prosperity," which "knits a man to the World. He feels that he is 'finding his place in it,' while really it is finding its place in him. His increasing reputation, his widening circle of acquaintances, his sense of importance, the growing pressure of absorbing and agreeable work, build up in him a sense of being really at home on Earth, which is just what we want."
Compare that with the following definition of culture: "The genuine culture is not necessarily high or low; it is merely harmonious, balanced, and self-satisfactory. It is the experience of a richly varied, yet somehow unified and consistent attitude toward life. . . It is, ideally speaking, a culture in which nothing is spiritually meaningless, in which no important part of the general functioning brings with it a sense of frustration, of misdirected or unsympathetic effort." (Edward Sapir, "Culture: Genuine and Spurious,"American Journal of Sociology 29, January 1924, p. 402.)
Sounds like what the devil aims for and culture achieves are about the same! -- a comfortable, "contended" at-home-ness with the world.
Now listen to how Cardinal Ratzinger describes Christianity's "breaking in" on culture in Truth and Tolerance, pp. 97-89:
"Exodus, making a cultural break, with its death and regrowth, is a basic pattern in Christianity. The story of this begins with Abraham, with the command from God: "Go from your country and your kindred and your father's house. (Gen 12:1). . . . We can say of the Christian faith, in line with the faith of Abraham, that no one simply finds it there as his possession. It never comes out of what we have ourselves. It breaks in from outside. That is still always the way.
"Nobody is born a Christian, not even in a Christian world and of Christian parents. Being Christian can only ever happen as a new birth." Citing Guardini, he continues, "Christianity, the Christian faith, is not the product of our own experiences; rather it is an event that comes to us from without. Faith is based on our meeting something (or someone) for which our capacity for experiencing things is inadequate. It is not our experience that is widened or deepened . . . but something happens. The categories of "encounter," "otherness," "event," describe the inner origins of the Christian faith and indicate the limits of the concept of experience." (See Lewis' criticism [in Ch. 28, p.133] of "experience" as being the "mother of illusion" [the philosopher Lewis quotes is Immanuel Kant, Critique of Pure Reason, p.313]).
Ratzinger continues: "This is exactly what we mean by the concept of revelation; something not ours, not to be found in what we have, comes to me and takes me out of myself, above myself, creates something new. That also determes the historical nature of Christianity, which is based on events and not on becoming aware of the depths of one's own inner self, what is called 'illumination.' (Here Ratzinger contrasts the Gnostic way of looking at the redemption, not in the suffering and death of Christ, but in 'the message concerning the holy path', the 'wise and wonderful' teaching. For the Gnostic, illumination comes, not through pain, but through the communication of knowledge.)
Raztinger concludes, "The Trinity is not the object of our experience but is something that has to be uttered from outside, that comes to me from outside as 'revelation.' The same is true of the Incarnation of the Word, which is indeed an event and cannot be discovered in one's inner experience. This coming to us is scandalous for man, who is striving after autonomy and autarchy; for every culture it is a presumption: when Paul says that Christianity is a scandal for the Jews and foolishness for the 'nations' (1 Cor. 1:23), he is trying to express this feature peculiar to the Christian faith, which for everyone is something coming 'from without.'" (emphasis added)
If you want an idea how revelation feels, I recommend the story of the same name ("Revelation") by Flannery O'Connor, and her story "The Coat." By reading these stories (and others by her) you can get an idea of how revelation "breaks in." Maybe what Saul felt upon being thrown to the ground on his journey to Damascus. Usually it isn't pretty.
What is the price of being immersed in our culture, "contented" in our worldliness? One consequence is that, to that extent, we are slaves. Jean Bethke Elshtain, in her Gifford Lectures (published last year as Sovreignty: God, State and Self, p. 206), points out that human freedom consists in part "in refusing overidentification with the sea in which we swim . . ." People who are absorbed in the zeitgeist parrot and live its platitudes -- such as the desire for "self-sovereignty" (autonomy and autarchy in Ratzinger's words) -- and to that degree are enslaved by them. (Elshtain tells the story of the eugenics movement in the early 20th century in which plenty of "Christian" leaders climbed aboard the "better world" bandwagon. We see a "eugenics" reprise today in embryonic stem cell research, "selective reduction" of implanted eggs, and "termination" of "unintended" pregnancies. For, in the inaugural words of our new president, we must "put science back in its rightful place."
Elshtain quotes Luther, who opined that "sloth" clings to us because we are born into it. Continuing the sea metaphor, she observes, the slothful "never come up for air." And, of course, they drown. (Fits right in Screwtape's game plan!)
Are there antidotes for "the world, the flesh and the devil"? The most effective, I think, are the evangelical counsels: "Poverty, chastity, and obedience." Poverty defeats prosperity, chastity the flesh, and obedience devilish willfulness. We need to keep spading our ground so the seeds of revelation may find a home here, germinate, and bear (much) fruit.
"The world, the flesh and the devil." An unholy trinity. In Ch. X, Screwtape notes that while "the Enemy's servants have been preaching about 'the World' as one of the standard temptations for two thousand years, . . . they have said very little about it for the last few decades." Warnings about "Worldy Vanities" have fallen on deaf ears apparently because people classify them as "Puritanism" -- a kind of extreme asceticism, something "weird" and unnatural, like St. Thomas More wearing a hair shirt.
In Ch. 28, Screwtape urges keeping his nephew's "patient" alive a good long time so he has time "for the difficult task of unravelling [his] soul[ ] from Heaven and building up a firm attachment to the Earth." Screwtape hopes either for "attrition" - drabness and resentment, or "prosperity," which "knits a man to the World. He feels that he is 'finding his place in it,' while really it is finding its place in him. His increasing reputation, his widening circle of acquaintances, his sense of importance, the growing pressure of absorbing and agreeable work, build up in him a sense of being really at home on Earth, which is just what we want."
Compare that with the following definition of culture: "The genuine culture is not necessarily high or low; it is merely harmonious, balanced, and self-satisfactory. It is the experience of a richly varied, yet somehow unified and consistent attitude toward life. . . It is, ideally speaking, a culture in which nothing is spiritually meaningless, in which no important part of the general functioning brings with it a sense of frustration, of misdirected or unsympathetic effort." (Edward Sapir, "Culture: Genuine and Spurious,"American Journal of Sociology 29, January 1924, p. 402.)
Sounds like what the devil aims for and culture achieves are about the same! -- a comfortable, "contended" at-home-ness with the world.
Now listen to how Cardinal Ratzinger describes Christianity's "breaking in" on culture in Truth and Tolerance, pp. 97-89:
"Exodus, making a cultural break, with its death and regrowth, is a basic pattern in Christianity. The story of this begins with Abraham, with the command from God: "Go from your country and your kindred and your father's house. (Gen 12:1). . . . We can say of the Christian faith, in line with the faith of Abraham, that no one simply finds it there as his possession. It never comes out of what we have ourselves. It breaks in from outside. That is still always the way.
"Nobody is born a Christian, not even in a Christian world and of Christian parents. Being Christian can only ever happen as a new birth." Citing Guardini, he continues, "Christianity, the Christian faith, is not the product of our own experiences; rather it is an event that comes to us from without. Faith is based on our meeting something (or someone) for which our capacity for experiencing things is inadequate. It is not our experience that is widened or deepened . . . but something happens. The categories of "encounter," "otherness," "event," describe the inner origins of the Christian faith and indicate the limits of the concept of experience." (See Lewis' criticism [in Ch. 28, p.133] of "experience" as being the "mother of illusion" [the philosopher Lewis quotes is Immanuel Kant, Critique of Pure Reason, p.313]).
Ratzinger continues: "This is exactly what we mean by the concept of revelation; something not ours, not to be found in what we have, comes to me and takes me out of myself, above myself, creates something new. That also determes the historical nature of Christianity, which is based on events and not on becoming aware of the depths of one's own inner self, what is called 'illumination.' (Here Ratzinger contrasts the Gnostic way of looking at the redemption, not in the suffering and death of Christ, but in 'the message concerning the holy path', the 'wise and wonderful' teaching. For the Gnostic, illumination comes, not through pain, but through the communication of knowledge.)
Raztinger concludes, "The Trinity is not the object of our experience but is something that has to be uttered from outside, that comes to me from outside as 'revelation.' The same is true of the Incarnation of the Word, which is indeed an event and cannot be discovered in one's inner experience. This coming to us is scandalous for man, who is striving after autonomy and autarchy; for every culture it is a presumption: when Paul says that Christianity is a scandal for the Jews and foolishness for the 'nations' (1 Cor. 1:23), he is trying to express this feature peculiar to the Christian faith, which for everyone is something coming 'from without.'" (emphasis added)
If you want an idea how revelation feels, I recommend the story of the same name ("Revelation") by Flannery O'Connor, and her story "The Coat." By reading these stories (and others by her) you can get an idea of how revelation "breaks in." Maybe what Saul felt upon being thrown to the ground on his journey to Damascus. Usually it isn't pretty.
What is the price of being immersed in our culture, "contented" in our worldliness? One consequence is that, to that extent, we are slaves. Jean Bethke Elshtain, in her Gifford Lectures (published last year as Sovreignty: God, State and Self, p. 206), points out that human freedom consists in part "in refusing overidentification with the sea in which we swim . . ." People who are absorbed in the zeitgeist parrot and live its platitudes -- such as the desire for "self-sovereignty" (autonomy and autarchy in Ratzinger's words) -- and to that degree are enslaved by them. (Elshtain tells the story of the eugenics movement in the early 20th century in which plenty of "Christian" leaders climbed aboard the "better world" bandwagon. We see a "eugenics" reprise today in embryonic stem cell research, "selective reduction" of implanted eggs, and "termination" of "unintended" pregnancies. For, in the inaugural words of our new president, we must "put science back in its rightful place."
Elshtain quotes Luther, who opined that "sloth" clings to us because we are born into it. Continuing the sea metaphor, she observes, the slothful "never come up for air." And, of course, they drown. (Fits right in Screwtape's game plan!)
Are there antidotes for "the world, the flesh and the devil"? The most effective, I think, are the evangelical counsels: "Poverty, chastity, and obedience." Poverty defeats prosperity, chastity the flesh, and obedience devilish willfulness. We need to keep spading our ground so the seeds of revelation may find a home here, germinate, and bear (much) fruit.
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