Monday, April 26, 2010
Thérèse and Luther
One would have to be blind not to see that Thérèse's [of Lisieux] doctrine of the little way answers point by point the program outlined by the Reformers and that she presents the Church's bold, irrefutable answer to Protestant spirituality. One can find innumerable points of contact between Thérèse and the Reformers: the rejection of Old Testament justification by works; the demolition of one's own ideal of perfection to leave room for God's perfection in man; the transcendent note in the act of faith, the center of which remains in God; the existential fulfillment of the act of faith, which means more than a mere intellectual assent to the content of faith and involves utter personal fidelity toward the personal truth of God; and, finally, disregard for one's own failings—even for that joy over them that says felix culpa. But the contrasts between Thérèse and the Reformers are equally striking. Thérèse's little way is a way to perfection, a way for those who have courageously resolved to love and do nothing else but love. And the faults of which she speaks are not the sins that Luther had in mind; they are "faults that do not offend God". What divides Thérèse from Luther is that the drama of sin never entwines itself round her soul. She recognizes the drama of God's descending into the nothingness of the creature and the flame of love with which the Absolute, God, unites himself to his creature's nothingness….It is Luther's error to have profaned mystical truths, which presuppose an intimate exchange of love between God and man, by treating them as general formulae for the sinner's relation to God. – Hans Urs von Balthasar, Two Sisters in the Spirit
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Love and Life
"It seems to me that love can substitute for a long life. Jesus takes no account of time, since there is none in heaven. He must take account only of love." - St. Terese of Lisieux, in Two Sisters in the Spirit by Hans Urs von Balthasar
Thinking of the brevity of some of the lives of the saints (Terese only lived to be 24), I got to thinking, maybe some people burn so brightly with love for God that they burn out the wick of their lives early, while others of us sputter along. God's grace gives us long lives so we can at least return some of his love to him, however meager. Not a hard and fast rule, I know, but there have been so many holy people (canonized and not), that died young (Pier Giorgio, virgin martyrs, and others whose stories I know but names I can't remember), but there have been so many that you just wonder if maybe they just "burned out", in a very good, heavenly way.
Thinking of the brevity of some of the lives of the saints (Terese only lived to be 24), I got to thinking, maybe some people burn so brightly with love for God that they burn out the wick of their lives early, while others of us sputter along. God's grace gives us long lives so we can at least return some of his love to him, however meager. Not a hard and fast rule, I know, but there have been so many holy people (canonized and not), that died young (Pier Giorgio, virgin martyrs, and others whose stories I know but names I can't remember), but there have been so many that you just wonder if maybe they just "burned out", in a very good, heavenly way.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Our Weakness Calls For God's Strength
My son sent me an interesting article by Michael Buckley on the need for priests (all of us have a priestly call) to value the experience of weakness as an entry into the priestly ministry of compassion. Buckley quoted St. Paul in 2 Corinthians 12:9-10: "I will all the more gladly boast of my weakness that the power of God may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities; for when I am weak, then I am strong." Of Christ, Paul said, "He is not weak in dealing with you, but powerful in you. For he was crucified in weakness; but lives by the power of God." 2 Cor. 13:3-4.
Buckley says, "Weakness relates us profoundly with other people. It allows us to feel with them the human condition, the human struggle and darkness and anguish that call out for salvation."
I am reminded of Terese of Lisieux who practiced humility and accepted denigration as gifts of suffering with the suffering Christ.
It seems that I can't enter into the suffering of others (suffer with them) if I can't accept my own suffering, my own limited circumstances of life. But it's pretty difficult not to opt for a grand life (that BMW!), or a life walled off from inconvenience and pain. (After all, what am I working for??) Problem is, how then can I answer the call of my vocation to enter into the suffering of others, to be com-passionate as Christ was (is)? The distance I maintain from my own suffering separates me just as much from others'. If vocation is a call to be for others, then it can't be about my own self-realization, how I hope to prove myself in the face of the crowd. Essentially, my "performance" is only before my God who made me, my sole director and critic!
Buckley says, "Weakness relates us profoundly with other people. It allows us to feel with them the human condition, the human struggle and darkness and anguish that call out for salvation."
I am reminded of Terese of Lisieux who practiced humility and accepted denigration as gifts of suffering with the suffering Christ.
It seems that I can't enter into the suffering of others (suffer with them) if I can't accept my own suffering, my own limited circumstances of life. But it's pretty difficult not to opt for a grand life (that BMW!), or a life walled off from inconvenience and pain. (After all, what am I working for??) Problem is, how then can I answer the call of my vocation to enter into the suffering of others, to be com-passionate as Christ was (is)? The distance I maintain from my own suffering separates me just as much from others'. If vocation is a call to be for others, then it can't be about my own self-realization, how I hope to prove myself in the face of the crowd. Essentially, my "performance" is only before my God who made me, my sole director and critic!
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Right Understanding as a Springboard to Action
In an interesting review, Stanley Fish described the modern state as holding itself "aloof" from any and all worldviews, and therefore having "no basis for judging [their] outcomes. . ." It therefore "cannot inspire its citizens to virtuous (as opposed to self-interested) acts because it has lost 'its grip on the images, preserved by religion, of the moral whole'. . .".
This reminds me of Kierkegaard's criticism of modern rationality as endlessly commenting, and never committing. He argues for a type of understanding that promotes, not obstructs, action. In Training For Christianity, he writes (at p. 158): "in relation to action the right understanding is like the spring-board from which the jumper makes his leap. The clearer, the more exact, the more passionate (in a good sense) one's understanding of a matter is, by just so much does it lighten one's weight for action, or just so much easier is it for one who has to act to render himself light for action."
It's a good image: Jumping on a springboard lifts you into the air, lessens your weight, and makes it easier to adopt the form of the dive (the leap). The springboard is right understanding. Working towards right understanding is the key to right action. But the conscious decision of the modern state NOT to make a decision about world views, which most of us mimic, prevents us from reaching the right understanding needed for taking the action we must in order to be "saved." It's like the frog that perishes because the water it's in increases in temperature only degree by degree. Kierkegaard's response is to try to inflame fear at our inaction and the perdition we flirt with.
Stanley Rosen doesn't think Reason "gets it," i.e., knows what it's missing. According to Kierkegaard, only as individuals can we take action in the face of a culture that endlessly "discusses."
This reminds me of Kierkegaard's criticism of modern rationality as endlessly commenting, and never committing. He argues for a type of understanding that promotes, not obstructs, action. In Training For Christianity, he writes (at p. 158): "in relation to action the right understanding is like the spring-board from which the jumper makes his leap. The clearer, the more exact, the more passionate (in a good sense) one's understanding of a matter is, by just so much does it lighten one's weight for action, or just so much easier is it for one who has to act to render himself light for action."
It's a good image: Jumping on a springboard lifts you into the air, lessens your weight, and makes it easier to adopt the form of the dive (the leap). The springboard is right understanding. Working towards right understanding is the key to right action. But the conscious decision of the modern state NOT to make a decision about world views, which most of us mimic, prevents us from reaching the right understanding needed for taking the action we must in order to be "saved." It's like the frog that perishes because the water it's in increases in temperature only degree by degree. Kierkegaard's response is to try to inflame fear at our inaction and the perdition we flirt with.
Stanley Rosen doesn't think Reason "gets it," i.e., knows what it's missing. According to Kierkegaard, only as individuals can we take action in the face of a culture that endlessly "discusses."
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
A Third World Close Moment
I had a "close moment" with students at Duke University whom I accompanied last month on a service project to Guatemala. Mitch, the student leader, sent me a post-trip reflection he wrote in which he mentioned a remark made by a fellow student who said, "It's nice that, here, our presence is enough." Mitch continues, "She said that at Duke, we are required to be intelligent, to present ourselves well, to be organized, to be extremely busy but not quite so busy that we can't handle it, and to be good at everything we do. In Lagunita Salvador, we did not need to be any of those things. Simply being present and showing our love meant everything. . ."
I got to thinking, and replied to Mitch, "I read your reflection, which was touching. I very much agree that being "present" is what counts. Learning that early is good, because being present to others helps us to be present to ourselves too, i.e. to appreciate that we can be ourselves and don't have to be somebody else. The third world dislodges us from our normal stance at the center of our own world, and helps us be happier (less pressured to be at the center) and more available to God's plan. There's the game of life in a nutshell, I would say!"
I was happy to be a part of their experience of growth, and Mitch's reflection was a welcome reminder to me of I need to go on these trips. It also reminded me of Guadium et Spes 24 (see below), which says that we discover ourselves by going out of ourselves to others.
(24. God, Who has fatherly concern for everyone, has willed that all men should constitute one family and treat one another in a spirit of brotherhood. For having been created in the image of God, Who "from one man has created the whole human race and made them live all over the face of the earth" (Acts 17:26), all men are called to one and the same goal, namely God Himself.
I got to thinking, and replied to Mitch, "I read your reflection, which was touching. I very much agree that being "present" is what counts. Learning that early is good, because being present to others helps us to be present to ourselves too, i.e. to appreciate that we can be ourselves and don't have to be somebody else. The third world dislodges us from our normal stance at the center of our own world, and helps us be happier (less pressured to be at the center) and more available to God's plan. There's the game of life in a nutshell, I would say!"
I was happy to be a part of their experience of growth, and Mitch's reflection was a welcome reminder to me of I need to go on these trips. It also reminded me of Guadium et Spes 24 (see below), which says that we discover ourselves by going out of ourselves to others.
(24. God, Who has fatherly concern for everyone, has willed that all men should constitute one family and treat one another in a spirit of brotherhood. For having been created in the image of God, Who "from one man has created the whole human race and made them live all over the face of the earth" (Acts 17:26), all men are called to one and the same goal, namely God Himself.
For this reason, love for God and neighbor is the first and greatest commandment. Sacred Scripture, however, teaches us that the love of God cannot be separated from love of neighbor: "If there is any other commandment, it is summed up in this saying: Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.... Love therefore is the fulfillment of the Law" (Rom. 13:9-10; cf. 1 John 4:20). To men growing daily more dependent on one another, and to a world becoming more unified every day, this truth proves to be of paramount importance.
Indeed, the Lord Jesus, when He prayed to the Father, "that all may be one. . . as we are one" (John 17:21-22) opened up vistas closed to human reason, for He implied a certain likeness between the union of the divine Persons, and the unity of God's sons in truth and charity. This likeness reveals that man, who is the only creature on earth which God willed for itself, cannot fully find himself except through a sincere gift of himself.(2))"
Monday, April 19, 2010
Solving the Faith-Works Question
Soren Kierkegaard, not a Catholic, stresses the importance of works ("works are required of a human being"), but not as a means of "earning heaven." ("Good works in the sense of meritoriousness are naturally an abomination to God.")
Kierkegaard then draws a very apt analogy: we should think of good works "as when a child gives his parents a present procured, however, with what the child has received from his parents; all the pretentiousness which otherwise resides in giving a gift disappears when the child has received from his parents the gift which he gives to the parents." Quoted in Works of Love (Harper Perennial), p. 378.
Sounds like a good solution to the Faith-Works question, doesn't it?
Kierkegaard then draws a very apt analogy: we should think of good works "as when a child gives his parents a present procured, however, with what the child has received from his parents; all the pretentiousness which otherwise resides in giving a gift disappears when the child has received from his parents the gift which he gives to the parents." Quoted in Works of Love (Harper Perennial), p. 378.
Sounds like a good solution to the Faith-Works question, doesn't it?
Friday, April 16, 2010
Wright Thoughts: Jesus
This year's Theology Conference at Wheaton is called "Jesus, Paul and the People of God: A Theological Dialogue with N. T. Wright", a kind of festschrift honoring and interacting with Wright's work. Wright is the Bishop of Durham, England in the Church of England, prominent in the conservative evangelical wing of the CoE.
I had always heard Wright was a great theologian, and had written a definitive book on the historicity of the resurrection, which was on my 'want list' of books to check out. I was first prompted to pick up one of his books (one of his newest, Justification: God's Plan and Paul's Vision when I heard he was part of the "new perspective" on Paul. I first got interested in the new perspective when I heard a somewhat glib summary of its thesis: the Protestant reformers read Paul wrong. As a former Protestant, now Catholic, I was intrigued.
Now I'll admit to not knowing too much about the new perspective (theology being more my avocation than what I was trained in, and being unable to find a good summary), so my only real basis is the one book of Wright's that I read, but Justification was very good, so I was very interested in this year's conference. The setup of the conference is focused on Wright's work on the historical Jesus on Friday and his work on Paul on Saturday (call it the "Search for the Historical Paul", perhaps).
Now, the so-called search for the historical Jesus has some serious criticisms that can be leveled against it (Jesus Seminar: Marbles? Seriously?), but Wright's is one of the most orthodox reconstructions of Jesus. I'm going to try and hit some of the things in each talk that stuck out to me.
Richard Hays: "Knowing Jesus: Story, History, and the Question of Truth" dealing with Wright's book Jesus and the Victory of God (JVG).
Hays is a good friend of Wrights and studied under him. He's currently at Duke University. He went over Wright's methodology. Some highlights:
*Hypothesis and verification – Wright differs from most historical Jesus scholars, rejecting their reductionist approaches. He takes the whole of the canonical evidence and formulates a hypothesis that will include the maximum amount of data. A 'hermeneutic of trust', if you will.
*Double similarity vs. double dissimilarity – Jesus Seminar (and others) tend to say the more Christ looks like his Jewish background or early Christian conceptions of Jesus, the less likely he is to be authentic. Wright flips this around.
*Skepticism of form and redaction criticism
*Extensive use of Second Temple Judaism material – this was fascinating to me, the way he firmly grounds a Jewish Jesus in his Jewish context.
Hays raised some concerns with Wright's methodology, however:
*Exclusion of the Gospel of John – Wright responded that this was a necessary self-limitation to even get the book a hearing, given the a priori assumptions of the academy to the historicity of John. It's essentially fighting them on their own ground.
*The relation of Wright's reconstruction of Jesus to the Church's confessional tradition. – Wright tends to avoid Christian creedal/confessional conceptions of Jesus, keeping them at arm's length from his historical assessment. Wright did make a good point in response, however, in that the confessions, written to defend the divinity and humanity of Christ in Hellenistic thought-forms, tend to screen out/obscure the kingdom-preaching, messianic-thinking, Jewish Jesus of history, as well as the political repercussions of Jesus.
Marianne Meye Thompson (Fuller Theological Seminary) – "The Gospel of John Meets Jesus and the Victory of God"
Thompson deals with the lacuna of the John in Wright's book and I thought she had some valuable insights. Essentially she says that Wright's synoptic-only reconstruction of Jesus is essentially Johannine. Wright tended to agree, again stating why he felt he couldn't use John more. Thompson made some good comments about Jesus as the Temple from the Gospel of John.
Interesting take away on the story of "doubting Thomas": Thomas' mistake lay not in his empiricist refusal to believe what he could not see but in his historicist refusal to believe the apostolic witness.
Wright then gave the chapel address from Ephesians. One of the things I like about Wright is his refusal to bracket out Ephesians, Colossians and other books as being deuteron-Pauline. He believes the books attributed to Paul are by Paul.
Brian Walsh and Sylvia Keesmaat (University of Toronto) – kind of fell asleep during this one. Been up since midnight. Led off with a Phil Ochs song (I enjoyed that). Didn't so much like their style of presenting in dialogue with each other. Not too sure how it related to Wright. It was trying to pull out some social ethical implications of his work but focused mostly on criticizing the financial market economy crash. Eh.
Nicholas Perrin – "Jesus Eschatology and Kingdom Ethics: Ever the Twain Shall Meet"
Perrin is a professor at Wheaton and a good friend/student of Wright and helped get him here/organize the conference. Didn't take too much away from this, though. He was a bit rushed to me and it was a bit over my head. He laid out some themes in Wright's work that I'm really interested in:
*Jesus as Israel – Jesus embodies the whole historical trajectory of Israel
*Continuing exile – Jews of Jesus' day viewed themselves as still in exile and Jesus saw himself as bringing them back.
*Integrative biblical theology – bridges OT and NT – Israel and Jesus-as-Israel
*Synthesis of soteriology and ecclesiology. Salvation is corporate and personal (complimentary and mutually strengthening, as opposed to collectivist and individualist, which are opposed) – basically, bringing an emphasis on the community back into soteriology.
*Wright eschews ahistorical positivism and historical skepticism – countering a docetic tendency in Protestantism
*Wright extends Jesus' mission to the historical-political sphere.
I did take this clever little bit away:
Western Protestantism often reduces the church to Jesus' Facebook friends.
:D
(And just for fun: Scott Hahn is attending the conference! I said hi and shook his hand.)
Will probably have more later. Right now I need to get to the evening keynote address by Wright about Jesus.
I had always heard Wright was a great theologian, and had written a definitive book on the historicity of the resurrection, which was on my 'want list' of books to check out. I was first prompted to pick up one of his books (one of his newest, Justification: God's Plan and Paul's Vision when I heard he was part of the "new perspective" on Paul. I first got interested in the new perspective when I heard a somewhat glib summary of its thesis: the Protestant reformers read Paul wrong. As a former Protestant, now Catholic, I was intrigued.
Now I'll admit to not knowing too much about the new perspective (theology being more my avocation than what I was trained in, and being unable to find a good summary), so my only real basis is the one book of Wright's that I read, but Justification was very good, so I was very interested in this year's conference. The setup of the conference is focused on Wright's work on the historical Jesus on Friday and his work on Paul on Saturday (call it the "Search for the Historical Paul", perhaps).
Now, the so-called search for the historical Jesus has some serious criticisms that can be leveled against it (Jesus Seminar: Marbles? Seriously?), but Wright's is one of the most orthodox reconstructions of Jesus. I'm going to try and hit some of the things in each talk that stuck out to me.
Richard Hays: "Knowing Jesus: Story, History, and the Question of Truth" dealing with Wright's book Jesus and the Victory of God (JVG).
Hays is a good friend of Wrights and studied under him. He's currently at Duke University. He went over Wright's methodology. Some highlights:
*Hypothesis and verification – Wright differs from most historical Jesus scholars, rejecting their reductionist approaches. He takes the whole of the canonical evidence and formulates a hypothesis that will include the maximum amount of data. A 'hermeneutic of trust', if you will.
*Double similarity vs. double dissimilarity – Jesus Seminar (and others) tend to say the more Christ looks like his Jewish background or early Christian conceptions of Jesus, the less likely he is to be authentic. Wright flips this around.
*Skepticism of form and redaction criticism
*Extensive use of Second Temple Judaism material – this was fascinating to me, the way he firmly grounds a Jewish Jesus in his Jewish context.
Hays raised some concerns with Wright's methodology, however:
*Exclusion of the Gospel of John – Wright responded that this was a necessary self-limitation to even get the book a hearing, given the a priori assumptions of the academy to the historicity of John. It's essentially fighting them on their own ground.
*The relation of Wright's reconstruction of Jesus to the Church's confessional tradition. – Wright tends to avoid Christian creedal/confessional conceptions of Jesus, keeping them at arm's length from his historical assessment. Wright did make a good point in response, however, in that the confessions, written to defend the divinity and humanity of Christ in Hellenistic thought-forms, tend to screen out/obscure the kingdom-preaching, messianic-thinking, Jewish Jesus of history, as well as the political repercussions of Jesus.
Marianne Meye Thompson (Fuller Theological Seminary) – "The Gospel of John Meets Jesus and the Victory of God"
Thompson deals with the lacuna of the John in Wright's book and I thought she had some valuable insights. Essentially she says that Wright's synoptic-only reconstruction of Jesus is essentially Johannine. Wright tended to agree, again stating why he felt he couldn't use John more. Thompson made some good comments about Jesus as the Temple from the Gospel of John.
Interesting take away on the story of "doubting Thomas": Thomas' mistake lay not in his empiricist refusal to believe what he could not see but in his historicist refusal to believe the apostolic witness.
Wright then gave the chapel address from Ephesians. One of the things I like about Wright is his refusal to bracket out Ephesians, Colossians and other books as being deuteron-Pauline. He believes the books attributed to Paul are by Paul.
Brian Walsh and Sylvia Keesmaat (University of Toronto) – kind of fell asleep during this one. Been up since midnight. Led off with a Phil Ochs song (I enjoyed that). Didn't so much like their style of presenting in dialogue with each other. Not too sure how it related to Wright. It was trying to pull out some social ethical implications of his work but focused mostly on criticizing the financial market economy crash. Eh.
Nicholas Perrin – "Jesus Eschatology and Kingdom Ethics: Ever the Twain Shall Meet"
Perrin is a professor at Wheaton and a good friend/student of Wright and helped get him here/organize the conference. Didn't take too much away from this, though. He was a bit rushed to me and it was a bit over my head. He laid out some themes in Wright's work that I'm really interested in:
*Jesus as Israel – Jesus embodies the whole historical trajectory of Israel
*Continuing exile – Jews of Jesus' day viewed themselves as still in exile and Jesus saw himself as bringing them back.
*Integrative biblical theology – bridges OT and NT – Israel and Jesus-as-Israel
*Synthesis of soteriology and ecclesiology. Salvation is corporate and personal (complimentary and mutually strengthening, as opposed to collectivist and individualist, which are opposed) – basically, bringing an emphasis on the community back into soteriology.
*Wright eschews ahistorical positivism and historical skepticism – countering a docetic tendency in Protestantism
*Wright extends Jesus' mission to the historical-political sphere.
I did take this clever little bit away:
Western Protestantism often reduces the church to Jesus' Facebook friends.
:D
(And just for fun: Scott Hahn is attending the conference! I said hi and shook his hand.)
Will probably have more later. Right now I need to get to the evening keynote address by Wright about Jesus.
On Being Small
The last chapter of St. Therese's “Story of a Soul” is one continuous prayer. The two following paragraphs come from the very end of her autobiography.
"I know that for You the Saints have also been foolish. Because they were eagles they have done great deeds. I am too small to do anything great, and so my folly is to hope that Your love will accept me as its victim; my folly is to rely on the angels and the saints so that I may fly to You, my adored Eagle, with Your own wings. For as long as You wish, I will stay with my eyes on You. I want to be fascinated by Your gaze. I want to be the prey of Your love. I hope that one day You will swoop down on me, carry me off to the furnace of love, and plunge me into its burning depths so that I can be its ecstatic victim for all eternity.
O Jesus, if only I could tell all little souls of your immeasurable condescension. I feel that if You found a soul feebler than mine -- though that's impossible -- You would delight in heaping even greater favors on it if it abandoned itself with supreme confidence to Your infinite mercy."
This passion appeals to my emotional Italian temperment. I fear, however, that I lack the sense of smallness that St. Therese possessed.
"I know that for You the Saints have also been foolish. Because they were eagles they have done great deeds. I am too small to do anything great, and so my folly is to hope that Your love will accept me as its victim; my folly is to rely on the angels and the saints so that I may fly to You, my adored Eagle, with Your own wings. For as long as You wish, I will stay with my eyes on You. I want to be fascinated by Your gaze. I want to be the prey of Your love. I hope that one day You will swoop down on me, carry me off to the furnace of love, and plunge me into its burning depths so that I can be its ecstatic victim for all eternity.
O Jesus, if only I could tell all little souls of your immeasurable condescension. I feel that if You found a soul feebler than mine -- though that's impossible -- You would delight in heaping even greater favors on it if it abandoned itself with supreme confidence to Your infinite mercy."
This passion appeals to my emotional Italian temperment. I fear, however, that I lack the sense of smallness that St. Therese possessed.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
The Vatican and the Beatles
It was nice to see the Vatican recognize the quality of the Beatles' "beautiful melodies, which changed forever pop music and . . . live on like precious jewels." Tribune, April 3, 2010. The stodgy old Vatican praising the Beatles? That's news! Still, it's nice to have an authority as weighty as the Vatican confirm the judgment of so many of us over the years. And that it took 40 years to come is also not so bad -- a "considered" opinion is always best . . . Try to see it my way!
Monday, April 12, 2010
A Discriminating Vitner
If, as Pascal says (see Noli me Tangere post earlier), the right "distance" is needed in moral life, the question arises how we find that proper perspective in our relationships with others. If love entails unity, how do we find the unity commensurate with the charity we share with others? I recently read an article by Gilbert Ryle entitled "Jane Austen and the Moralists." (Chapter 20 in his Collected Papers). In it, Ryle says that Austen's characters depict differences in a specific quality she is interested in. For example, in Emma she is interested in asking how far one can go in influencing another's life. Where is the line between Meddling and Helping? All the characters are described "in terms of their different kinds or degrees of concernment or unconcernment with the lives of others." I won't go into where each character falls in the continuum drawn by Austen in this novel, I simply wish to say that, according to Ryle, Austen's novels may be viewed as an effort to give the reader, via a look at many characters in small English town, examples as to how such a calibration of perspective, of the proper distance in relationships, can be managed, and mis-managed.
Austen's answer is not "one thing or the other," but usually "both and." For example, in Sense and Sensibility the moral theme is "the relations between Head and Heart, Thought and Feeling, Judgment and Emotion . . ." Austen felt that Head and Heart need not be antagonists. "The best Heart and the best Head are combined in the best person." So perspective involves combining rather than dividing, and finding a balance among different qualities. Through balance we avoid extremes, which block out flavors in our personality which, if balanced in expression, we can experience positively in our lives and share beneficially with others.
Ryle described Austen as a vitner or wine taster who effectively displays the nuances of human character in her novels. In my opinion, it is a good description of a person with discrimination in the good sense of the term: a person who sees the world in proper perspective and who can thereupon calibrate his behavior with others to the good and in charity.
Austen's answer is not "one thing or the other," but usually "both and." For example, in Sense and Sensibility the moral theme is "the relations between Head and Heart, Thought and Feeling, Judgment and Emotion . . ." Austen felt that Head and Heart need not be antagonists. "The best Heart and the best Head are combined in the best person." So perspective involves combining rather than dividing, and finding a balance among different qualities. Through balance we avoid extremes, which block out flavors in our personality which, if balanced in expression, we can experience positively in our lives and share beneficially with others.
Ryle described Austen as a vitner or wine taster who effectively displays the nuances of human character in her novels. In my opinion, it is a good description of a person with discrimination in the good sense of the term: a person who sees the world in proper perspective and who can thereupon calibrate his behavior with others to the good and in charity.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Michelangelo the poet
TO THE SUPREME BEING
by: Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475-1564)
THE prayers I make will then be sweet indeed,
If Thou the spirit give by which I pray:
My unassisted heart is barren clay,
Which of its native self can nothing feed:
Of good and pious works Thou art the seed,
Which quickens only where Thou say'st it may;
Unless Thou show to us Thine own true way,
No man can find it: Father! Thou must lead.
Do Thou, then, breathe those thoughts into my mind
By which such virtue may in me be bred
That in Thy holy footsteps I may tread;
The fetters of my tongue do Thou unbind,
That I may have the power to sing of Thee,
And sound Thy praises everlastingly.
This poem was translated into English by William Wordsworth (1770-1850).
by: Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475-1564)
THE prayers I make will then be sweet indeed,
If Thou the spirit give by which I pray:
My unassisted heart is barren clay,
Which of its native self can nothing feed:
Of good and pious works Thou art the seed,
Which quickens only where Thou say'st it may;
Unless Thou show to us Thine own true way,
No man can find it: Father! Thou must lead.
Do Thou, then, breathe those thoughts into my mind
By which such virtue may in me be bred
That in Thy holy footsteps I may tread;
The fetters of my tongue do Thou unbind,
That I may have the power to sing of Thee,
And sound Thy praises everlastingly.
This poem was translated into English by William Wordsworth (1770-1850).
Friday, April 9, 2010
My Latest Readings of Balthasar
From “The Glory of the Lord: Vol. 5. pp. 270-271
Balthasar discusses the aspects of eros made manifest through the beauty of creation and especially the human form and the passions it arouses. Yet, such eroticism fails to meet the demands of the human spirit for union with the creator and proves to be only a spiraling circle of longing and heartache followed by disappointment and an increasingly persistent pursuit of that which fails to satisfy. He uses Shakespeare’s Sonnets as a poetic expression of the failings of mortal love to satisfy.
129
The expense of spirit in a waste of shame
Is lust in action: and till action, lust
Is perjured, murderous, bloody, full of blame,
Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust;
Enjoyed no sooner but despised straight;
…
All this the world well knows; yet none knows well
To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.
142
Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate,
Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving:
….
146
My love is as a fever longing still,
For that which longer nurseth the disease;
Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
The uncertain sickly appetite to please.
…
For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,
Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.
Balthasar goes on to say “If we had the versed confessions of Botticelli, Tintoretto and so many others, who created the inconceivably beautiful, who knows whether they would not sound the same, and with what melancholy the glories were purchased that should bear witness to the powers of bodies to utter the eternal and to shelter the divine!”
Balthasar discusses the aspects of eros made manifest through the beauty of creation and especially the human form and the passions it arouses. Yet, such eroticism fails to meet the demands of the human spirit for union with the creator and proves to be only a spiraling circle of longing and heartache followed by disappointment and an increasingly persistent pursuit of that which fails to satisfy. He uses Shakespeare’s Sonnets as a poetic expression of the failings of mortal love to satisfy.
129
The expense of spirit in a waste of shame
Is lust in action: and till action, lust
Is perjured, murderous, bloody, full of blame,
Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust;
Enjoyed no sooner but despised straight;
…
All this the world well knows; yet none knows well
To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.
142
Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate,
Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving:
….
146
My love is as a fever longing still,
For that which longer nurseth the disease;
Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
The uncertain sickly appetite to please.
…
For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,
Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.
Balthasar goes on to say “If we had the versed confessions of Botticelli, Tintoretto and so many others, who created the inconceivably beautiful, who knows whether they would not sound the same, and with what melancholy the glories were purchased that should bear witness to the powers of bodies to utter the eternal and to shelter the divine!”
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Noli me tangere
I agree with Matt's comment that we need a certain formality in our relationship with our God. Only in that way do we recognize "our place." This is also true of our relationships with others. I have heard it said that love can get too empathetic and smarmy, on one hand, or become too distant and detached, on the other. One needs an appropriate distance. Noli me tangere! (which means don't touch me, or better, don't cling to me) is good advice about how to re-spect others (in their presence and their absence), as Titian's masterpiece depicts.
Pascal pointed at the same idea in his Pensee's:
"So with pictures seen from too far or too near; there is but one exact point which is the true place wherefrom to look at them: the rest are too near, too far, too high or too low. Perspective determines that point in the art of painting. But who shall determine it in truth and morality?"
In Battling To The End, Rene Girard's latest book about our age's apocalyptic tendencies (the "trend to extremes" in violence and human interactions), Girard and his conversation partner Benoit Chantre cite this Pensee and conclude that the point Pascal is referring to (the "one true place") is "nothing other than charity." (p.134). According to Girard, only our imitation of Christ will help us escape the "order of bodies"-- a description of the entanglements of hyper-closeness or resentment and anger that we are prone to as mimetic creatures -- into the "order of charity," where I can relate respectfully and helpfully with others without being too close or too distant. "To imitate Christ by keeping the other at the right distance is to escape the mimetic whirlpool: no longer imitate in order to no longer be imitated." To put on Christ not only helps us to escape the mimetic whirlpool, it helps others do the same by withdrawing ourselves from the imitation gallery. As an unrecognized one, I disappear into Christ so as to let Christ appear in me. Then, any model I offer is a positive one, not me but Christ in me. This strikes me as a good description of the Christian vocation: to allow God's call to resound, to echo in my life, I am giving God's call a true hearing -- and becoming a saint!
Pascal pointed at the same idea in his Pensee's:
"So with pictures seen from too far or too near; there is but one exact point which is the true place wherefrom to look at them: the rest are too near, too far, too high or too low. Perspective determines that point in the art of painting. But who shall determine it in truth and morality?"
In Battling To The End, Rene Girard's latest book about our age's apocalyptic tendencies (the "trend to extremes" in violence and human interactions), Girard and his conversation partner Benoit Chantre cite this Pensee and conclude that the point Pascal is referring to (the "one true place") is "nothing other than charity." (p.134). According to Girard, only our imitation of Christ will help us escape the "order of bodies"-- a description of the entanglements of hyper-closeness or resentment and anger that we are prone to as mimetic creatures -- into the "order of charity," where I can relate respectfully and helpfully with others without being too close or too distant. "To imitate Christ by keeping the other at the right distance is to escape the mimetic whirlpool: no longer imitate in order to no longer be imitated." To put on Christ not only helps us to escape the mimetic whirlpool, it helps others do the same by withdrawing ourselves from the imitation gallery. As an unrecognized one, I disappear into Christ so as to let Christ appear in me. Then, any model I offer is a positive one, not me but Christ in me. This strikes me as a good description of the Christian vocation: to allow God's call to resound, to echo in my life, I am giving God's call a true hearing -- and becoming a saint!
Are You Serious???
My son was home for Easter weekend, and he told me he is taking a course about vocations. Kids today, and indeed folks of all ages -- including me! -- need to think about and listen for our "calling." What gets in the way, it seems to me, is all that background noise! The call is there, like the whisper that Elijah heard, but we just can't seem to hear it.
I happened to come across an interesting article by Hubert Dreyfus that describes the condition of lots of us, a condition that was already well-described by Kierkegaard in the mid 1800's. I highly recommend it. You can find it here. Essentially, Kierkegaard says in his review essay "The Present Age," that the modern world "levels," making all things accessible but ultimately banal. We become part of an anonymous "public" who pass around opinions we pick up, and endlessly "comment," but can't seem to latch on to anything or "do" something unconditionally. Dreyfus applies this insight to our current "public" participation in the internet. (I'll let you decide how a propos his description is of our own "blog experience"!)
Kierkegaard says that such a person "recognizes no power over itself; therefore in the final instance it lacks seriousness. . . ." (Sickness unto Death, 100). It's interesting that he relates seriousness to power. I looked up "serious" and found its etymological root is "wer" meaning "to bind," and to "hang on a scale." We see the root in "swear." I am serious when I am bound to something, when I recognize its power over me, when I am being weighed on a scale, evaluated, responsible. The opposite of seriousness is frivolity (from the Latin frivos "broken, crumbled," from friare "break, rub away, crumble."), which describes an uncommitted, dissipated life, disconnected and ultimately broken. ("Ps. 1: "The wicked are not so, but are like chaff, which the wind drives away.") Until we are bound, i.e., have a master, or in Kierkegaard's words, "unconditionally committed," we live frivolously. And we may not even know it!
Where does the binding come from? From our spiritual relationship of obedience to our "ground" of authority, God. Kierkegaard said that all of his work boils down to preaching obedience. Obedience is the recognition and acceptance of the divine law (of love), as we see it embodied in Jesus Christ. To repent and obey makes us serious. It keeps us from being blown about by the winds of frivolity, and allows us to hear, and follow, God's call, our vocation. For Kierkegaard groups have no existence vis a vis the absolute; each man will be judged by God as an individual. So to hear and follow our call is crucial.
I happened to come across an interesting article by Hubert Dreyfus that describes the condition of lots of us, a condition that was already well-described by Kierkegaard in the mid 1800's. I highly recommend it. You can find it here. Essentially, Kierkegaard says in his review essay "The Present Age," that the modern world "levels," making all things accessible but ultimately banal. We become part of an anonymous "public" who pass around opinions we pick up, and endlessly "comment," but can't seem to latch on to anything or "do" something unconditionally. Dreyfus applies this insight to our current "public" participation in the internet. (I'll let you decide how a propos his description is of our own "blog experience"!)
Kierkegaard says that such a person "recognizes no power over itself; therefore in the final instance it lacks seriousness. . . ." (Sickness unto Death, 100). It's interesting that he relates seriousness to power. I looked up "serious" and found its etymological root is "wer" meaning "to bind," and to "hang on a scale." We see the root in "swear." I am serious when I am bound to something, when I recognize its power over me, when I am being weighed on a scale, evaluated, responsible. The opposite of seriousness is frivolity (from the Latin frivos "broken, crumbled," from friare "break, rub away, crumble."), which describes an uncommitted, dissipated life, disconnected and ultimately broken. ("Ps. 1: "The wicked are not so, but are like chaff, which the wind drives away.") Until we are bound, i.e., have a master, or in Kierkegaard's words, "unconditionally committed," we live frivolously. And we may not even know it!
Where does the binding come from? From our spiritual relationship of obedience to our "ground" of authority, God. Kierkegaard said that all of his work boils down to preaching obedience. Obedience is the recognition and acceptance of the divine law (of love), as we see it embodied in Jesus Christ. To repent and obey makes us serious. It keeps us from being blown about by the winds of frivolity, and allows us to hear, and follow, God's call, our vocation. For Kierkegaard groups have no existence vis a vis the absolute; each man will be judged by God as an individual. So to hear and follow our call is crucial.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Good Friday
Good Friday cannot be confined to Holy Week. It is not simply the dismal but necessary prelude to the joy of Easter, although I'm afraid many Christians think of it that way. Every day of the year is a good day to think more deeply about Good Friday, for Good Friday is the drama of the love by which our every day is sustained. – Richard John Neuhaus, Death on a Friday Afternoon
Some thoughts on Holy Thursday
1. Washing of Feet
I now it's an act of humility for the priest to wash feet, but tonight I was struck by how humbling it is to allow the priest to wash your feet. I suppose my first inkling of this was discovering how difficult it actually is to get people to volunteer for the foot washing, but tonight I was particularly struck by it. I'm probably too "friendly" with Fr. Don to get the full impact, but I thought maybe for a moment I understood what Peter felt when he protested Christ washing his feet.
In our culture, we don't really have a sense of "hierarchical" friendship (my term), a friendship with a recognition of superiority of rank or kind. We're way too easily "buddy-buddy" with Jesus to the point where we forget he is Lord! He's God! We don't really understand what that means, since we don't normally have 'lords' anymore.
Yes, Christ calls us "friend" rather than "servant" (John 15:15), and that is very important for our conception of God (compare with the master-slave dynamic of Islam). I know a youth leader who likes to ask the teens if Jesus was there before you, would you hug him or bow to the ground? A bit tongue in cheek, I always said that the only person in Scripture that ever hugged Jesus was Judas! I think there is a lot of truth in that, though. Even Mary Magdalene, when she tried to embrace Christ after the resurrection, was told, "Don't touch me."
I think the gospel of Holy Thursday shows that important dynamic. The disciples were Jesus' friends, but they still maintained a respectful distance and recognized his position as rabbi, enough that they were troubled by his washing their feet like a slave. They were wrong in this particular instance because Jesus was trying to teach them something, but I don't think one can fault them for their respect and honor.
2. The Roman Canon! And it was sung!
This is my absolute favorite Eucharistic Prayer. I love the list of saints and martyrs; it connects us back to the earlier believers. We don't hear it hardly at all now since Fr. John left; it was the only one he ever prayed. It is arguably the only really "legitimate" Eucharistic Prayer. The others may be allowed by the Church, but Eucharistic Prayer 1 (the Roman Canon) is the only prayer that goes back to the earliest centuries of the Church. Eucharistic Prayer 2, which seems to be the favorite of many priests because it is the shortest, also has ancient origins (Hippolytus), but it is arguably not actually a full Eucharistic Prayer because with its length it was likely more of a summary guide, a kind of "highlights" manual for priests of what needed to be prayed as the priest made up the Eucharistic Prayer (since they weren't originally written down). Other of the Eucharistic Prayers were essentially made up whole cloth, I believe.
I now it's an act of humility for the priest to wash feet, but tonight I was struck by how humbling it is to allow the priest to wash your feet. I suppose my first inkling of this was discovering how difficult it actually is to get people to volunteer for the foot washing, but tonight I was particularly struck by it. I'm probably too "friendly" with Fr. Don to get the full impact, but I thought maybe for a moment I understood what Peter felt when he protested Christ washing his feet.
In our culture, we don't really have a sense of "hierarchical" friendship (my term), a friendship with a recognition of superiority of rank or kind. We're way too easily "buddy-buddy" with Jesus to the point where we forget he is Lord! He's God! We don't really understand what that means, since we don't normally have 'lords' anymore.
Yes, Christ calls us "friend" rather than "servant" (John 15:15), and that is very important for our conception of God (compare with the master-slave dynamic of Islam). I know a youth leader who likes to ask the teens if Jesus was there before you, would you hug him or bow to the ground? A bit tongue in cheek, I always said that the only person in Scripture that ever hugged Jesus was Judas! I think there is a lot of truth in that, though. Even Mary Magdalene, when she tried to embrace Christ after the resurrection, was told, "Don't touch me."
I think the gospel of Holy Thursday shows that important dynamic. The disciples were Jesus' friends, but they still maintained a respectful distance and recognized his position as rabbi, enough that they were troubled by his washing their feet like a slave. They were wrong in this particular instance because Jesus was trying to teach them something, but I don't think one can fault them for their respect and honor.
2. The Roman Canon! And it was sung!
This is my absolute favorite Eucharistic Prayer. I love the list of saints and martyrs; it connects us back to the earlier believers. We don't hear it hardly at all now since Fr. John left; it was the only one he ever prayed. It is arguably the only really "legitimate" Eucharistic Prayer. The others may be allowed by the Church, but Eucharistic Prayer 1 (the Roman Canon) is the only prayer that goes back to the earliest centuries of the Church. Eucharistic Prayer 2, which seems to be the favorite of many priests because it is the shortest, also has ancient origins (Hippolytus), but it is arguably not actually a full Eucharistic Prayer because with its length it was likely more of a summary guide, a kind of "highlights" manual for priests of what needed to be prayed as the priest made up the Eucharistic Prayer (since they weren't originally written down). Other of the Eucharistic Prayers were essentially made up whole cloth, I believe.
Judas
From Magnificat's meditation for Spy Wednesday this week:
Judas, one of the chosen twelve, one of those to whom Jesus said, "I have not called you servants, but friends": he it is who is to betray his Master – for thirty pieces of silver. And Jesus knew it. For three years, he kept him there among his intimates, treating him like the rest, calling him to the same destiny, and surrounding him with the same delicate attentions. Nothing ever aroused a suspicion – except perhaps in John, where the intuition of love seems to have divined the traitor – a suspicion that he knew whom he had chosen, as he would say.
He even gave Judas a mark of special trust: he was the one who carried the purse belonging to the little band of Apostles. Already he had given evidence of being avaricious; and John had been keen enough to observe it.
As for Jesus, he closed his eyes to it and allowed time and grace to take their course. Before that heart, which was gradually closing itself against him, he opened up the treasures of his forbearance; he was prodigal of his forgiveness, that rare and precious gift which most men are nearly always reluctant to bestow.
What mystery there is in this attitude of Jesus confronted by the traitor. Perhaps nothing enables us to penetrate deeper into that heart than an analysis of what he must have felt then, at every contact.
He was willing to experience at length and in silence that royal sorrow of betrayal – of betrayal by an intimate, by on who has been showered with kindnesses. He had poured them forth upon Judas, knowing all the while that he would show himself a monster. He spoke to him with consideration, with the vision of his crime before him. He washed his feet on that Thursday evening, conscious that he had already been sold.
And in the garden of Gethsemane, when the miserable man had destroyed the last barrier that still held back the torrent of hatred, of iniquity, and of torture with his infamous kiss, the only revenge of Jesus was the gentle query: "My poor friend, what have you come here to do?" Once more he gave Judas the title of friend, which he had perhaps not applied to him at supper. He wanted him to know he had a right to it, as the final effort put forth by the patience of God.
--Father Antonin Gilbert Sertillanges, O.P.
Judas, one of the chosen twelve, one of those to whom Jesus said, "I have not called you servants, but friends": he it is who is to betray his Master – for thirty pieces of silver. And Jesus knew it. For three years, he kept him there among his intimates, treating him like the rest, calling him to the same destiny, and surrounding him with the same delicate attentions. Nothing ever aroused a suspicion – except perhaps in John, where the intuition of love seems to have divined the traitor – a suspicion that he knew whom he had chosen, as he would say.
He even gave Judas a mark of special trust: he was the one who carried the purse belonging to the little band of Apostles. Already he had given evidence of being avaricious; and John had been keen enough to observe it.
As for Jesus, he closed his eyes to it and allowed time and grace to take their course. Before that heart, which was gradually closing itself against him, he opened up the treasures of his forbearance; he was prodigal of his forgiveness, that rare and precious gift which most men are nearly always reluctant to bestow.
What mystery there is in this attitude of Jesus confronted by the traitor. Perhaps nothing enables us to penetrate deeper into that heart than an analysis of what he must have felt then, at every contact.
He was willing to experience at length and in silence that royal sorrow of betrayal – of betrayal by an intimate, by on who has been showered with kindnesses. He had poured them forth upon Judas, knowing all the while that he would show himself a monster. He spoke to him with consideration, with the vision of his crime before him. He washed his feet on that Thursday evening, conscious that he had already been sold.
And in the garden of Gethsemane, when the miserable man had destroyed the last barrier that still held back the torrent of hatred, of iniquity, and of torture with his infamous kiss, the only revenge of Jesus was the gentle query: "My poor friend, what have you come here to do?" Once more he gave Judas the title of friend, which he had perhaps not applied to him at supper. He wanted him to know he had a right to it, as the final effort put forth by the patience of God.
--Father Antonin Gilbert Sertillanges, O.P.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Legalism
I think this expresses what I often imperfectly try to get across to people (even Catholics!) about Catholicism, and one of the things that attracted me to it:
In Principles for a Catholic Morality Timothy O'Connell is speaking on the characteristics of Old Testament law:
"All this leads to a last characteristic of Old Testament law: It generated a strangely beautiful and compelling sort of legalism. This term, reserved as it usually is for empty and fear-motivated ritualism, is generally conceived negatively.... But we ought to acknowledge nonetheless that a different sort of legalism exists. There is a posture that primarily evaluates actions not in terms of their objective and immediate significance, but rather in terms of their potential as symbols of love, that sees behavior less as a tool for the accomplishment of tasks and more as a word speaking the language of love. For one who adopts this posture, even the most apparently empty of actions is full of devotional potential. Such a person is a legalist, but a legalist of a tremendously rich, poetic, and saintly sort. For the best of the Jewish tradition, this is precisely the significance that the law always had."
In Principles for a Catholic Morality Timothy O'Connell is speaking on the characteristics of Old Testament law:
"All this leads to a last characteristic of Old Testament law: It generated a strangely beautiful and compelling sort of legalism. This term, reserved as it usually is for empty and fear-motivated ritualism, is generally conceived negatively.... But we ought to acknowledge nonetheless that a different sort of legalism exists. There is a posture that primarily evaluates actions not in terms of their objective and immediate significance, but rather in terms of their potential as symbols of love, that sees behavior less as a tool for the accomplishment of tasks and more as a word speaking the language of love. For one who adopts this posture, even the most apparently empty of actions is full of devotional potential. Such a person is a legalist, but a legalist of a tremendously rich, poetic, and saintly sort. For the best of the Jewish tradition, this is precisely the significance that the law always had."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)