Suppose a group of five men decide to take a journey, M1 - M5. M1, believing there to be difficult times ahead, works hard and gathers food, and carries twice as much food with him as the others on the journey.  M2-M5, although capable of carrying more, do not do so. Midway through the journey, M3-M5 are completely out of food. M2, knowing himself, has paced well and has enough to last the journey, though uncomfortably.  M1 has enough food to last him through the rest of the journey, comfortably.

The questions about my hypothetical are these:

1. Ought M1 to give food to M3-M5?

2. Ought M3-M5 be able to morally demand food from M1? How about M2 ?

3. If M1 is not willing to give up food for M3-M5, what actions may M2-M5 take in response? Why? Should M2 have equal say in the matter as M3-M5?

Changing the scenario in one aspect, suppose M1, were he to give amounts of food to M3-M5 sufficient to allow them to survive, runs the risk of starvation himself. Does that change your response to any of the above questions? Why?

Suppose M3-M5 were unable to carry more food, all other factors remaining the same? Does that change your response to any of the above questions? Why?

I stated below that:

This hedonistic consequentialism involves a closely-related individualism, at least in the United States, which states that no person can judge another person’s pleasure or pain, such that there is no objective standard for pleasure or pain (a utilitarian calculus, as it has been called).

I am reading an interesting book (don’t worry - I’ll get back to my point there…) by Tom Morris called, “Making Sense of it All: Pascal and the Meaning of Life.” In one interesting passage, Morris notes:

Something has meaning if and only if it is endowed with meaning or significance by a purposive personal agent or group of such agents.

And further:

Meaning is never intrinsic; it is always derivative….If my life is to have meaning (or a meaning), it thus must derive its meaning from some sort of purposive, intentional activity. It must be endowed with meaning.

Now, I suppose the question is, what if we are unable to endow our lives with meaning? That is, we are incapable of making a purposeful, intentional activity in relation to them? I think in this particular instance of the severely mentally handicapped, the aged with mental handicaps, the unborn, and the like - or even children, who are still unordered enough that meaning is fragmented. What of the meaning for their lives?

It seems to me that we, those who can direct our lives purposefully, are called to give meaning to them. To a mother, an unborn child should have meaning. She is the only one who can directly endow it with meaning, for she literally holds its life within her. But, this is only the most obvious example.

Of course, the question of meaning, of purpose, implies nothing of good or bad, simply direction or choice. The problem with the hedonistic individualistic consequentialist mode (told you I’d bring it back) in which we find ourselves in is that if someone has attached a purpose to their life that is wrong, misdirected, or, bluntly, evil, we are often powerless to do anything about it. I think most people have heard the response, to paraphrase, “So what if you think it’s wrong - who are you to say?”

And, the massive consequences of this statement, and all of its attendant attitudes, and all of its attendant philosophies, continue to rock our culture and will continue to do so. For, how could one ideologically oppose any evil, any wrongdoing, which is that which gives meaning to someone or some people, when ears are stopped before the argument begins…when speech itself is deafened by deliberate silence?

A friend has cautioned that in my previous post on the speech of Saruman, some might have interpreted that as comparing Obama to the anti-Christ or the Dark Lord in entirety. I would limit that, however, to the abuse of the gift of speech towards evil ends. Obama says many things which I deem imprudent, but not evil. However, he does say some things that are truly evil, particularly in regard to abortion as an inherent right. Obama has been gifted with an extraordinary ability to speak well and intelligently (as I do not believe that McCain has). Therefore, he abuses this gift when he uses it unvirtuously, both to promote evil ends and to attempt to convince others that this evil end is the right course of action.

-J.

Among Catholics, it is a never-ending debate on how one is to live life. I found the following lesson from the Desert Fathers edifying:

Also there were Paesius and Isaias, sons of a Spanish merchant. When their father died, they divided the estate they held, namely five thousand coins, clothes, and slaves. They deliberated and planned together. “Brother, what kind of life shall we lead? If we become merchants, such as our father was, we will still be entrusting our work to others. Then we would risk harm at the hands of pirates on the high seas. Come, let us take up the monastic life so that we may profit by our father’s goods and still not lose our souls.”

The prospect of monastic life pleased them, but they found themselves in disagreement. For when they had divided the property, they each had in mind to please God, by taking different ways of life.

Now the one shared everything among the monasteries, churches, and prisons; he learned a trade so that he might provide bread for himself and he spent his time at ascetic practices and prayer. The other, however, made no distribution of his share, but built a monastery for himself and took in a few brethren. Then he took in every stranger, every invalid, every old man, and every poor one as well, setting up three or four tables every Saturday and Sunday. In this way he spent his money

After they were both dead, various pronouncements were made about them as though they had both been perfect. Some preferred one, some the other. Then rivalry developed among the brethren in regard to the eulogies. They went to the blessed Pambo and entrusted the judgment to him, thinking to learn from him which was the better way of life. He told them, “Both were perfect. One showed the work of Abraham; the other, that of Elias.”

One faction said, “By your feet, we implore you, how can they be equal?” And this group considered the ascetic the greater, and insisted that he did what the Gospel commended, selling all and giving to the poor, and every hour both day and night carried the cross and followed the Savior even in his prayers. But the others argued heatedly, saying the Isaias had shared everything with the needy and even used to sit on the highways and gather together the oppressed. Not only did he relieve his own soul, but many others as well by tending the sick and helping them.

Abba Pambo told them, “Again I say to you, they are both equal. I firmly insist to each of you that the one, if he had not lived so ascetically, would not by worthy to be compared with the goodness of the other. As for the other, he refreshed strangers, and thereby himself as well, and even if he appeared to carry the load of toil, he had also its relief thereafter. Wait until I have a revelation from God, and then come back and learn it

They returned some days later and he told them, “I saw both of them standing the Paradise in the presence of God.”

Each Sunday night, I “mentor” a group of college students from a local college as part of a campus ministry program which works to instill good spiritual habits in college-age kids. We meet as a large group after evening Mass, then split into small groups, each headed by a mentor. I am one such mentor, and have 5 men in my group.

The conversations are often difficult to get started - my students have much on their minds (midterms, sports, hormones, hormones, hormones). So, last night, rather than trying the “let’s all talk about whatever) approach (which generates interesting conversations about how this professor is vs. this other one), I elected to ask a direct question - namely, “How do we analyze any act as to whether it is bad or good?” (I like to begin with light questions.)

This question shook a couple of the five out of their torpor, and one gave the interesting response, “It depends on what happens,”  to which the others generally agreed and sank back into lethargy. I asked him to clairify, in that he meant whether an action was good or bad depended on the outcome after the action, to which he assented.

I found this quick response curious. After a moment, I then asked him whether he thought there were any actions that might be wrong independent of the outcome? He responded equally quickly, “Sin” (as a good Catholic ought). I mentioned that “sin” was a rather broad category. But, then asked if it would be wrong for me to throw a mustard bottle at him, even though I missed entirely, and he was not injured. He thought that it might indeed be wrong. We did not get a chance to proceed farther, as there was a reflection talk coming up, and we stopped with those thoughts. However, I do not expect that many of the other students will feel too differently than this one.

Philosopher John Haldane said in essence that we live in an age of hedonistic consequentialism, or something like it in the utilitarian mode. In essence, this is the combination of the view above, that the good or evil of an act lies in it’s outcome (consequentialism), and the view that view that whether an outcome is good or bad depends upon some formulation or variant of whether it makes the viewer or recipient of the action happier, or causes them pain, or reduces their pain, etc. (hedonism). This hedonistic consequentialism involves a closely-related individualism, at least in the United States, which states that no person can judge another person’s pleasure or pain, such that there is no objective standard for pleasure or pain (a utilitarian calculus, as it has been called).

This plays out in interesting and potentially frightening ways. I take as my example two instances in the academic world this past year. One at Indiana University-Purdue University Indianapolis, the other more recently at Brandeis University. At IU-PUI, a janitor was reading a book on his lunch break entitled, ”Notre Dame vs. the Klan: How the Fighting Irish Defeated the Ku Klux Klan.” He was accused first of reading something like pornography at work, then the school itself accused him of racial insensitivity, based on an anonymous complaint. In a letter, a school official noted, “‘You used extremely poor judgment by insisting on openly reading the book related to a historically and racially abhorrent subject in the presence of your black co-workers.” The janitors pleas that the book was about defeating prejudice went unheard, and it wasn’t until the Wall Street Journal picked up the story that the school apologized. The second matter is still ongoing at Brandeis University, where a professor of fifty years used the term “wetback” in class to describe derogatory ways in which Mexican-Americans were treated. Someone complained, and Brandeis said that they believed the professor was guilty of racial harassment, and placed a monitor in his classes.

I think these two incidents illustrate the more visible results of hedonistic consequentialism, but I think this reasoning underlies many of the decisions made personally and governmentally in our world. Examples are not to difficult to come by (as I have illustrated above), and I think they would be easily reached by any person reading the daily news.

Okay, for the Jonathan side of the Watsons:

1. YOUR ROCK STAR NAME (first pet, current car): Junior Mazda

2. YOUR GANGSTA NAME (fave ice cream flavor, favorite type of shoe): Cookie Dough Wingtip

3. YOUR NATIVE AMERICAN NAME (favorite color, favorite animal): Navy Cat

4. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME (middle name, city where you were born): Andrew Erie

5. YOUR STAR WARS NAME (the first three letters of your last name, first two of your first name): WatJa

6. SUPERHERO NAME (2nd favorite color, favorite drink): Forest Coffee

7. NASCAR NAME (the first names of your grandfathers): Chester Joseph

8. STRIPPER NAME ( the name of your favorite perfume/cologne/scent, favorite candy): Curry Candy Corn

9. TV WEATHER ANCHOR NAME (your fifth grade teacher’s last name, a major city that starts with the same letter): Davis Denver

10. SPY NAME (your favorite season/holiday, flower): Spring Dogwood

11. CARTOON NAME (favorite fruit, article of clothing you’re wearing right now): Orange Khakis

12. HIPPIE NAME (What you ate for breakfast, your favorite tree): Eggs Dogwood

Recently, I finished a reread of C.S. Lewis’ The Four Loves, which as (as titled) Lewis’ discussion of the four different kinds of love - affection, friendship, eros, and charity. I recommend this book for any Christian, and Catholics especially, since Pope Benedict’s encyclical Deus Caritas Est contains many of the same ideas (if not developed in a more specifically Catholic direction).

To (hopefully) whet your appetite, here are a few excerpts dealing with each type of love:

1. Affection: “The dog barks at stranges who have never don it any harm and wags its tail for old acquaintances even if they never did it a good turn. The child will love a crusty old gardener who has hardly ever taken any notice of it and shrink from the visitor who is making every attempt to win its regard.”
2. Friendship: “The first and most obvious answer is that few value it because few experience it. And the possibility of going through life without the experience is rooted in that fact which separates Friendship so sharply from the other loves. Friendship is - in a sense not at all derogatory to it - the lease natural of loves; the least instinctive, organic, biological, gregarious, and necessary….In this kind of love, as Emerson said, Do you love me? means Do you see the same truth? - or at least, “Do you care about the same truth?”
3. Eros: “Sexual desire, without Eros, wants it, the thing in itself; Eros wants the Beloved.”
4. Charity: “If the Victorians needed the reminder that love is not enough, older theologians were always saying very loudly that (natural) love is likely to be a great deal too much. The danger of loving our fellow-creatures too little was less present to their minds than loving them idolatrously. In every wife, mother, child and friend they saw a possible rival to God. So of course does Our Lord.”

In short, get it, read it. It is short and poignant, and well worth it.

–j.

Upon the recommendation of my friend John, I purchased Render Unto Caesar, subtitled Serving the Nation by Living Our Catholic Beliefs in Political Life, by the Archbishop of Denver, Charles J. Chaput, OFM Cap. (a.k.a. Capuchin Franciscan). Now that I have finished it (and John has asked to borrow it), I have decided to write this short review of the book. At around 230 pages, including intro, endnotes, etc., the book is not exceptionally long. I found this relatively short length is even more suprising as I read through the book. Archbishop Chaput has written a tour de force of a book, discussing the history of Catholic political engagement in the United States (where we were), current political activity of Catholics in the United States (where we are), and Vatican II and it’s postlude (how we got here).

Or, in the Archbishop’s words:

Like it or not, American Catholics are part of a struggle over our country’s identity and future. If this book helps some of us rediscover what it really means to be Catholic - the purpose of our time in the world, the lessons of our history, the responsibilities of citizenship, and the implications of the Christian faith we claim to believe - then it succeeds.

Throughout the book, Archbishop Chaput displays a wide knowledge of Catholic thinkers and Catholic history. John Courtney Murray, Henri de Lubac, Yves Congar, John Henry Newman, and Christopher Dawson are all mentioned. However, he also expands to discuss others such as C.S. Lewis, Victor Frankl, George Orwell, Christopher Lasch, and Lord Acton. (My own thought has been consistently expanded by some of these, especially C.S. Lewis and Christopher Lasch.) None are quoted simply for effect - all add something of importance to the discussion.

I find this book especiually important for several reasons. First, it excels as an overview of the history of American Catholicism, from a discussion of Charles Carroll, the Catholic Senator from Maryland who signed the Declaration of Independence through to John Kennedy, Mario Cuomo, and Robert Casey, Sr., three modern Catholic politicians. In examining the lives and talks of these individuals, the Archbishop charts a course for Catholic readers as to public and private political life (and suggest even that this distinction is too often of too much importance). Second, this book carefully dissects slogans and bad arguments used against Catholics (and other Christians). He uses as an example such phrases as “the separation of church and state” and “don’t impose your beliefs on society” and shows that they are less than argument and more like “a kind of verbal voodoo” employed “to shut down serious thought.” Third, this book is intended to give Catholics and any other Christian reader courage to argue for their beliefs in civil society. He notes that we do not argue for certain things because they are religious beliefs taught by the Church alone - rather, they are taught by the Church because they are right.

Finally, as with any book, the direct purposes are not the only ones which arise. I enjoyed this book, as I do many similar works, in some way just for the joy of contact with a well-organized mind. The book is not a difficult read, nor does it require any sort of “pre-reading” in order to understand it. Rather, it is beautifully laid-out and argued, and is likely to be one which I will re-read several times, discovering something new, and some new direction, each time.

-j.

So, I finished the aforementioned book. Much of what was important expounds on the theme I mentioned - “moralistic therapeutic deism.” One of the interesting themes the author mentioned constantly was that, while teenagers seemed quite religious in many ways, they were not the “rebellious spirital seekers” that many seemed to characterize them as - rather, they absorbed their parents’ religions quite readily. The parents, creatures of the “60s” and “70s,” often expounded a tolerant, easy-going approach to religion, which transferred to the children. The author often found the teens without an ability to state their religious beliefs easily, and were nervous when questioned more in depth, due to lack of knowledge. In addition, the author noted that many teens who were members of certain Christian (or otherwise) religious sects (such as Methodist) often held beliefs that would be schismatic / heretical to that sect as it was founded, but also were not aware of that fact.

One of the more interesting sections of the book came at the end, where the discussion focused on how youth group leaders, etc., could get the youth interested. The author recommeded challenging the youth on their belief - pushing them to learn more and seek out the reasons for their faith, and learn to enunciate them. (Interestingly, at about this time, I also happened upon an article laying out differences between an oral society, such as the early Greeks, and the written societies that came after - the written could sustain an extended argument and analysis. The article also argued that we may be reversing that trend in some ways.)

-j.

From Smurray comes this jewel - if your kids watch Dora, see this link now:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C1FfL9_P5LE 

(Mostly safe for work - probably not for kids…)

-j.

I’ve been considering the idea of “meaning,” in its more or less emotive context, over the past few days. One of the things that has struck me repeatedly is that in order for something to have meaning in our lives - and now that I see this, it strikes me as so simple that I wonder if it’s even worthwhile discussing - we must acknowledge some sort of personal limitation on ourselves by that thing. This is not a limitation in the sense of being fenced by an exterior force, but rather a self-limiting, a self-giving or gift, which results in a personal connection with that thing.

I think it may be analogized with art. Consider painting. The canvas, of whatever size, is the limitation. Or sculpture. The sculptor pares away stone (for instance), gradually evolving a figure out of it. Meaning is only acquired by limitation of space in accordance with reason. (Perhaps this is why “modern art” seems so devoid. The artists seeks no self-limitation, and asks none of you - interpretations might limit the artist in some way, and so therefore, the art is literally without meaning in being without limitation.)

This idea of meaning through limitation seems contrary to what society demands. Limitation is viewed as constriction on freedom (whether imposed within or without). However, in demanding unlimited access to anything, one thereby makes that thing devoid of meaning, for such is the emotional effect of unfettered choice.

-j.

I plan to read Soul Searching: The Religious and Spiritual Lives of American Teenagers, in preparation for a potential ministry I’ll be working on at Holy Cross College. Here’s an interesting excerpt (from a summary written by the book’s author, Christian Smith):

[W]e suggest that the de facto dominant religion among contemporary teenagers in the United States is what we might call “Moralistic Therapeutic Deism.” The creed of this religion, as codified from what emerged from our interviews with U.S. teenagers, sounds something like this:

1. A God exists who created and orders the world and watches over human life on earth.

2. God wants people to be good, nice, and fair to each other, as taught in the Bible and by most world religions.

3. The central goal of life is to be happy and to feel good about oneself.

4. God does not need to be particularly involved in one’s life except when he is needed to resolve a problem.

5. Good people go to heaven when they die.

I’ll post again when I’ve finished the work.

-J.

The book Doors of the Sea - Where Was God in the Tsunami is a deceptively small book. At about 100 pages, and no larger than an average mouse pad (which is a comparison I can readily make from visual observation), it nonetheless contains one of the best summations of Christian responses to the problem of how a world which is supposed to be the product of a good and loving God nonetheless contains suffering and other evil. The book is an expansion of two articles, one for the WSJ and one for First Things on the same topic, and I recommend that you read the First Things article.

One of the great statements Hart makes both in his book and article concerns the arguments (railings?) against God by Ivan Karamazov, from Dostoevsky’s great work The Brothers Karamazov. Having set forth the arguments, Hart notes:

But Ivan’s rebellion is something altogether different. Voltaire sees only the terrible truth that the actual history of suffering and death is not morally intelligible. Dostoevsky sees—and this bespeaks both his moral genius and his Christian view of reality—that it would be far more terrible if it were.

Some other important discussions in the book, which I think will open up new avenues for my own personal exploration are the idea of the impassibility of God (that God does not experience pain or pleasure from the actions of any other being), the difficulty of reconciling free will with evil (if God created creatures with free will, and knew that they would then engage in evil, isn’t God somehow responsible for evil? And how can a good God be responsible for evil?), and so on.

Hart takes a very patristical approach to the question, and his response is one of a classic Christian and Orthodox theologian. As such, his thoughts may be unsettling to many outside of the Catholic or Orthodox traditions. However, to those inside such traditions, his thought is both lucid and illuminating. He is somewhat harsh (if his writing can be called such) with John Calvin, and Calvin’s assertion of the “idea of a God who can be called omnipotent only if his will is the direct efficient cause of every aspect of created reality.” (See Where Was God? An Interview with David Bentley Hart) Hart notes that this doctrine often appears in (to his mind) extremely mistaken responses of Christian theologians to the Tsunami of 2004 in the Pacific rim. Taken to an extreme, these responses took the Calvinist doctrine to its logical end by asserting (in various ways) either that suffering is necessary, and / or that suffering is created and used by God to some end. He makes a careful distinction between God’s ability to bring good out of evil, and suffering as some creation or tool of God. The distinction, he believes, is illustrated by the statement that Christ did not come to reconcile or explain death (evil) to humanity, but to conquer it.

Provocative, yet completely orthodox Christian thought (deliberate use of the small “o” there).