Catholic Metanarrative

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Article: In the beginning

FATHER GEORGE W. RUTLER

Human imagination cannot conceive the power and pressure that held all the essential elements of the universe together in a piece of matter about the size of a pinhead when the world began.

Physicists tend now to date the explosion of that particle to about sixteen billion years ago. Their job is to consider how it happened, not why it happened. The Creator Himself explained the "why" of the beginning in the Book of the Beginning. The Bible begins: "Bereshit bara Elohim et hashamayim ve'et ha'arets. — In the beginning, God created the heaven and the earth" (Genesis 1:1). There was a sound and then light.

That sound was the Word — the Logos — the divine power that is the logic of all that is. "En arche en ho Logos — In the beginning was the Word" (John 1:1). This stretches the imagination as much as it does basic physics. Thomas Jefferson knew his Greek and quoted John 1 in a letter to John Adams on April 11, 1823. But his mind was not agile enough to interpret this revelation as anything other than a form of polytheism, or "tritheism" as he dismissed the Holy Trinity. Back then, his physics was as primitive as his metaphysics, but even if he could not conceive of the Creation, he was one with all of us in having been conceived. Like the first particle of the universe at the "Big Bang," all 46 unique chromosomes containing our essential human identity were encoded in us when we began as a single-cell zygote.

When the Holy Spirit, the bond of love between the Father and the Son, "overshadowed" the Virgin Mary, the Eternal Logos "was made flesh and dwelt among us" (John 1:14). In the Annunciation, the young woman conceived "the true light, which enlightens everyone" (John 1:9).

This mystery is recited in Latin at the end of the Extraordinary Form of the Mass, "In principio erat Verbum." The Eucharist ends with the beginning, for by communion with Christ, human beings become moral agents of their Creator: "To those who did accept him he gave power to become children of God, to those who believe in his name, who were born not by natural generation, nor by human choice, nor by a man's decision, but of God" (John 1:12-13).

Bereshit, En arche, In Principio, In the Beginning . . . whatever the language, there is a beginning with a purpose. That is the source of happiness. When the Logos took a human nature, He also sensed the human emotion of joy. There is one explicit reference to that, when Jesus "rejoiced in the Holy Spirit" and spoke to the Father of hashamayim ve'et ha'arets: "I give you praise, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for although you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned you have revealed them to the childlike" (Luke 10:21).



ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Father George William Rutler. "In the beginning." From the Pastor (March 25, 2012).

Reprinted with permission of Father George W. Rutler.

THE AUTHOR

Father Rutler received priestly ordination in 1981. Born in 1945 and reared in the Episcopal tradition, Father Rutler was an Episcopal priest for nine years. He was received into the Catholic Church in 1979 and was sent to the North American College in Rome for seminary studies. Father Rutler graduated from Dartmouth, where he was a Rufus Choate Scholar, and took advanced degrees at the Johns Hopkins University and the General Theological Seminary. He holds several degrees from the Gregorian and Angelicum Universities in Rome, including the Pontifical Doctorate in Sacred Theology, and studied at the Institut Catholique in Paris. In England, in 1988, the University of Oxford awarded him the degree Master of Studies. From 1987 to 1989 he was regular preacher to the students, faculty, and townspeople of Oxford. Cardinal Egan appointed him Pastor of theChurch of Our Saviour, effective September 17, 2001.

Since 1988 his weekly television program has been broadcast worldwide on EWTN. Father Rutler has published 17 books, including: Cloud of Witnesses - Dead People I Knew When They Were Alive, Coincidentally: Unserious Reflections on Trivial Connections, A Crisis of Saints: Essays on People and Principles, Brightest and Best, Saint John Vianney: The Cure D'Ars Today, Crisis in Culture, and Adam Danced: The Cross and the Seven Deadly Sins.

Copyright © 2012 Father George W. Rutler

Article: Happiness: Ancient and Modern Concepts of Happiness

PETER KREEFT

My topic today is Jesus' concept of happiness. And we must begin with the dullest and most necessary preliminary: defining our term.

Ancient and Modern Concepts of Happiness

My topic today is Jesus' concept of happiness. And we must begin with the dullest and most necessary preliminary: defining our term. Nearly everyone, from Aristotle to Freud, agrees that we all seek happiness, and that we seek it as an end, not as a means. No one seeks happiness for any other reason. We argue about other things, but not about happiness. We may say, "What good are riches if they don't make you happy?" But we don't say, "What good is happiness if it doesn't make you rich?" This is clear, to both ancients like Aristotle and moderns like Freud.

But there is a very significant difference between the typically ancient and the typically modern meaning of happiness. Ancient words for happiness, like eudaimonia, or makarios in Greek or beatitudo in Latin, mean true, real blessedness, while the modern English word happiness usually means merely subjective satisfaction, or contentment, so that in modern English, if you feel happy, you're happy. It makes no sense, in modern English, to tell someone, "You think you're happy, but you're not."

But that is precisely the main point of the most famous book in the history of philosophy, Plato's Republic: that justice, the all-inclusive virtue, is always profitable, that is, 'happifying'. And injustice never is. Thus, that the just man, even if like Socrates, he has nothing else, is happy. And the unjust man is not, even if he has everything else, like Gyges, or Gollum, with his ring of power and invisibility. Thus, we should distinguish the ancient concept, which is really blessedness, from the modern, which is really contentment. I shall be talking about blessedness here.

Blessedness differs from contentment in four ways, all of which can be seen by analyzing the Greek word eudaimonia. First, it begins with the prefix eu, meaning good, thus implying that you have to be good, morally good, to be happy.

Second, daimon means spirit, thus implying that happiness is a matter of the soul, not the body and its external goods of fortune. The word happiness, by contrast, comes from the Old English word hap, meaning precisely fortune, luck or chance, which was the one Pagan thought category Christianity subtracted. In all other cases, Christianity added to Paganism. As Chesterton said, summing up all spiritual history in three sentences: "Paganism was the biggest thing in the world. Christianity was bigger, and everything since has been comparatively small." If blessedness is spiritual, it is free. You are responsible for youreudaimonia, but happiness just happens.

Third, eudaimonia ends in ia, which means a lasting state, something permanent. Contentment is for a moment, blessedness for a lifetime. So much so that Aristotle in theNicomachean Ethics could not make up his mind whether to agree or disagree with the saying "call no man happy 'til he is dead." That is, wait for the end of the story to judge it.

Blessedness differs from contentment in four ways, all of which can be seen by analyzing the Greek word eudaimonia.

Fourth, and most important of all, the state of eudaimoniais objective, whereas contentment is subjective. When we say happiness, we usually confuse these two meanings, the ancient and the modern. And that is not wholly unwise, because within the ancient concept of happiness, in a secondary way, there is also present the modern one: the need for some contentment, peace of mind, pleasure and at least a modicum of the gift of fortune. While within the modern concept of happiness, that is, within subjective contentment, there is also present, in a secondary way, a feeling for the need of something of the typically ancient ingredient, the need for at least some virtue and the feeling that the happiness, to be deep and lasting, ought to be real and earned and true happiness, whatever that may be.

We are about to explore Christ's concept of happiness. It is typically ancient (blessedness) but it also includes the above ambiguity or doubleness of meaning: subjective satisfaction as well as objective perfection.


Our Concept of Happiness

Let's look first at our concept of happiness. When I speak of our concept, who is us? I mean our culture, the mental landscape we all inhabit, even when we feel like aliens here, most generally the modern, post-Christian West, but most specifically contemporary America, as it would appear on opinion polls.

If an opinion poll were to ask Americans to list the nine most important ingredients in the happy life, they would probably give an answer pretty much like the following: First, the most obvious, though not the profoundest ingredient, is probably wealth. If you notice your friend has a big smile on his face today, you most likely would say to him, "What happened to you? Did you just win the lottery?" If that's what you'd say, it must be because that's what would put the biggest smile on your face. And let's face it; money can buy everything money can buy, which is a lot of stuff.

Second might be our culture's most notable success, the conquest of nature and fortune by science and technology, allowing each of us to be an Alexander the Great, conqueror of the world. Third would probably be freedom from pain. I think few of us would disagree that the single most valuable invention in the entire history of technology has been anesthetics.

Fourth would probably be self-esteem, the greatest good, according to nearly all of our culture's new class of prophets, the secular psychologists — and secular psychologists are among the most secular of all classes in our society. Fifth might be justice, securing one's rights. Justice and peace summarize the social ideals of most Americans, the ideals they want for themselves and for the rest of the world.

Sixth, if we are candid, we have to include sex. To most Americans, this is the closest thing to heaven on Earth, that is ecstasy, mystical transcending of the ego — unless they're surfers. Seventh, we love to win, whether at war, at sports, at games of chance, in business, or even in our fantasies. Our positive self-esteem requires the belief that we are winners, not losers. We want to be successful, not failures.

But it is even harder to believe that anyone would believe his utterly shattering paradoxes about happiness.

Eighth, we want honor. We want to be honored, accepted, loved, and understood. In our modern egalitarian society, we are honored, not for being superior, but for being one of the crowd. In most ancient societies, one was honored for being different, better, superior, excellent. But we still crave to be honored. Some even want to be famous. All want to be accepted.

Ninth, we want life, a long life and a healthy life. Thomas Hobbes is surely right in saying that fear of violent death, especially painful and early death, is very, very powerful. Your life is not happy if it's taken from you, obviously.

This all seems so obvious and so reasonable as to be beyond argument. Higher ideals than these are arguable. Some of us seek them and some of us do not. But these nine would seem to be firm and impregnable, universal and necessary. Whoever would deny that they form a part of happiness would be a fool. Whoever would affirm that happiness consisted in their opposites would be insane.


Christ's Concept of Happiness

Let us now perform a fantastic thought experiment. Let us suppose that there was once a preacher who did teach precisely that insanity, point for point, deliberately and specifically. Perhaps you cannot stretch your imagination quite that far, but I'm going to ask you to stretch it even one step farther. Imagine this man becoming the most famous, beloved, revered, respected, and believed teacher in the history of the world. Imagine nearly everyone in the world, even those who did not classify themselves as his disciples, at least praising his wisdom, especially his moral wisdom, especially the single most famous and beloved sermon he ever preached, the Sermon on the Mount, the summary of his moral wisdom, which begins with his 180 degree reversal of these truisms.

Perhaps you find this far too incredible to be imaginable. It would be a miracle harder to believe than God becoming a man. It is hard enough to believe that anyone would believe the strange Christian notion that a certain man who began his life as a baby, who had to learn to talk, and ended it as an executed criminal, who bled to death on a cross, and in between got tired and hungry and sorrowful, is God, eternal, beginningless, immortal, infinitely perfect, all-wise, all-powerful, the Creator.

But it is even harder to believe that anyone would believe his utterly shattering paradoxes about happiness. Perhaps we do not really believe them after all. Perhaps we only believe we believe them. Perhaps we have faith in our faith rather than faith in his teachings.

For, of course, I am referring to Christ's eight beatitudes which opened his Sermon on the Mount, the most famous sermon ever preached, and the one part of the New Testament that is still held up as central and valid and true and good and beautiful even by dissenters, heretics, revisionists, demythologizers, skeptics, modernists, theological liberals, and anyone else who cannot bring himself to believe all the other claims in the New Testament or the teachings of the Church. These people strain at the gnats but swallow the camel. So let's look at the camel that they swallow. Perhaps they only seem to swallow it. Perhaps they swallow only their own swallowing, gollumping like Gollum.

To our desire for wealth, Christ says, "Blessed are the poor in spirit." To our desire for painlessness, he says, "Blessed are those who mourn." To our desire for conquest, he says, "Blessed are the meek." To our desire for contentment with ourselves, he says, "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness." To our desire for justice, he says, "Blessed are the merciful." To our desire for sex, he says, "Blessed are the pure in heart." To our desire for conquest, he says, "Blessed are the peacemakers." To our desire for acceptance, he says, "Blessed are the persecuted." And to our desire for more life, he offers the Cross. And now this man carrying his cross to Calvary even dares to tell us, "My yoke is easy and my burden is light."

Part 1 "Happiness: Ancient and Modern Concepts of Happiness"
Part 2 of this talk here.
Part 3 of this talk here.
Part 4 of this talk here.
Part 5 of this talk here.
Part 6 of this talk here.



ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Peter Kreeft. "Happiness: Ancient and Modern Concepts of Happiness" a talk by Peter Kreeft given in various places at various times. .

This article is reprinted with permission from Peter Kreeft.

THE AUTHOR

Peter Kreeft, Ph.D., is a professor of philosophy at Boston College. He is an alumnus of Calvin College (AB 1959) and Fordham University (MA 1961, Ph.D., 1965). He taught at Villanova University from 1962-1965, and has been at Boston College since 1965.

He is the author of numerous books (over forty and counting) including: The Snakebite Letters, The Philosophy of Jesus, The Journey: A Spiritual Roadmap for Modern Pilgrims, Prayer: The Great Conversation: Straight Answers to Tough Questions About Prayer, How to Win the Culture War: A Christian Battle Plan for a Society in Crisis, Love Is Stronger Than Death,Philosophy 101 by Socrates: An Introduction to Philosophy Via Plato's Apology, A Pocket Guide to the Meaning of Life, and Before I Go: Letters to Our Children About What Really Matters. Peter Kreeft in on the Advisory Board of the Catholic Education Resource Center.

Copyright © 2012 Peter Kreeft

Wednesday, March 07, 2012

Article: Conscience/Feelings

MONTAGUE BROWN

Although conscience may seem to be a kind of feeling, the moral demands that it makes on us reveal that its seat is in reason.

Conscience
Rational standard for choice and judgment

To act according to conscience is to follow reason's lead. It is true that feelings always accompany conscience (especially bad feelings with a guilty conscience). However, we feel good or bad about what we choose to do or what we have already done because we know the choice or act to be right or wrong. Perhaps this is why the word conscience means, literally, "with knowledge."

It is always wrong for me to act against my conscience, for to do so is to do what I think to be wrong. This I must never do. However, it is not therefore the case that if I act according to my conscience, my action is necessarily good. In addition to following my conscience (always doing what I think to be good), I must also inform my conscience (constantly try to find out what really is good). When I act in accordance with an informed conscience, my action is good.

The final arbiter in our free actions is conscience. It is conscience that tells us that murder is wrong. It is conscience that reminds us to help those who are less well off. It is conscience that encourages us to work hard at school, sports, or our job rather than goof off. It is conscience that tells us that we should strive to be better and should help others to be better, too.

ASK YOURSELF:

Is my action based on the knowlege of right and wrong? Have I tried to understand the best course of action? If so, I am following my conscience.


"The only obligation which
I have a right to assume
is to do at any time
what I think is right."


Henry David Thoreau
"Civil Disobedience"
, Ch. 1



Feelings
Emotional standard for choice and judgment

Feelings sometimes move us to act, but they cannot tell us how we ought to act. When we have certain feelings, we still need to ask whether or not we should follow them. If we do not ask, we will act arbitrarily. This is inconsistent with our demand that others not treat us justas they feel. For the sake of fairness and community, both sides must strive to be reasonable.

I cannot know what I should do simply by consulting my feelings, for feelings change, often very rapidly. Sometimes I feel good about myself and others; sometimes I do not. If I just follow my feelings, my actions may be extremely irrational. The question of whether my generous and kind feelings or my selfish and hateful ones should be encouraged and nurtured cannot itself be settled by feeling. Ultimately I know, not just feel, that kindness and compassion are better than persecution and hate.

Were feelings our guides, it is hard to see how any action could be wrong. There would be a kind of blanket defense: "I felt like cheating." "I felt like being lazy in school." "I felt like killing him." "I didn't feel like helping her." Immorality would be only "not doing what I felt like doing." If this is the final arbiter in our actions, there really is no arbiter at all.


ASK YOURSELF:

Is my action based on my emotions? Have I neglected deliberation about the best course of action? If so, I am following my feelings, not my conscience.

"The Moral Law is not any one instinct
or any set of instincts: it is something
which makes a kind of tune (the tune
we call goodness or right conduct)
by directing the instincts."

C.S. Lewis
Mere Christianity, Ch. 2



ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Montague Brown. "Conscience/Feelings." In The One-Minute Philosopher (Manchester, NH: Sophia Institute Press, 2001) 22-23.

Reprinted with permission of Montague Brown and Sophia Institute Press.

THE AUTHOR

Montague Brown began a lifelong love affair with philosophy by reading theDialogues of Plato. He earned a Ph.D. in philosophy from Boston College and now holds the The Richard L. Bready Chair of Ethics, Economics, and the Common Goodat St. Anselm College in New Hampshire. The author of The One-Minute Philosopher, Half Truths: What's Right (and What's Wrong) With the Cliché's You and I Live With, Restoration of Reason: The Eclipse And Recovery Of Truth, Goodness And Beauty, The Quest for Moral Foundations, The Romance of Reason: An Adventure in the Thought of Thomas Aquinas.

When he's not in the classroom, the professor spends time writing, skiing on the local cross-country trails, or providing the rock-steady beat of the bass in a faculty jazz quartet. In the summer, this philosopher might be hiking in his home state of Maine or presenting a paper in Rome.

Copyright © 2001 Montague Brown

Article: Almsgiving

MIKE AQUILINA

Of the three marks of Lent — prayer, fasting and almsgiving — almsgiving is surely the most neglected.

And yet, in the only place where the Bible brings all three together, the inspired author puts the emphasis firmly on the last: "Prayer and fasting are good, but better than either is almsgiving accompanied by righteousness ... It is better to give alms than to store up gold; for almsgiving saves one from death and expiates every sin. Those who regularly give alms shall enjoy a full life" (Tob 12:8-9).

Why is almsgiving better than prayer and fasting? Because it is prayer, and it involves fasting. Almsgiving is a form of prayer because it is "giving to God" — and not mere philanthropy. It is a form of fasting because it demands sacrificial giving — not just giving something, but giving up something, giving till it hurts.

Jesus presented almsgiving as a necessary part of Christian life: "when you give alms, sound no trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may be praised by men. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing" (Mt 6:2-3). He does not say IF you give alms, but WHEN. Like fasting and prayer, almsgiving is non-negotiable.

The first Christians knew this. "There was no needy person among them, for those who owned property or houses would sell them, bring the proceeds of the sale, and put them at the feet of the apostles, and they were distributed to each according to need" (Acts 4:34-35).

That was the living embodiment of a basic principle of Catholic social teaching, what tradition calls "the universal destination of goods." The Catechism of the Catholic Church puts it succinctly: "The goods of creation are destined for the entire human race" (n. 2452).

But they can't get there unless we put them there — and that requires effort.

As with prayer and fasting, so with almsgiving. If we have a plan, we'll find it easier to do. Throughout history, many Christians have used the Old Testament practice of "tithing" as a guide — that is, they give a tenth of their income "to God." In practice, that means giving it to the poor, to the parish, or to charitable institutions.


My friend Ed Kenna, an octogenarian and dad, remembers the day he decided to start tithing. "When I was a senior in high school, back in 1939-40, I read an article on charitable giving in a Catholic newspaper," he recalls. "And it had a lot of testimonies to the fruits of tithing. Breadwinners told how God provided whenever they were in need or had an emergency. I decided, then and there, to start tithing, and I've been doing it ever since."

For Kenna, those 65 years have had their financial ups and downs. He served in the military during World War II, went to college and raised a family of nine children. Through it all, he says, he was often tempted, but he never wavered in his tithing. "There were many times when I reached a point where I said, 'Something has to give — but I'm not going to give up on my tithing.'"

It's a matter of trusting God, Kenna adds, "and God will not be outdone in generosity."

Charity begins at home, where we daily make the choice to give our time, our attention, our affirming smile, and give generously. But charity must not stop there, because for Catholics "home" is universal, and our family is as big as the world.

Jesus said, "It is more blessed to give than to receive" (Acts 20:35), but those who tithe often find themselves on the receiving end as well. "I worked as an industrial engineer through the highs and lows of American industry," Kenna recalls. "Twice my job fell victim to corporate mergers, but the phone always rang just in time. I never lost an hour of work to layoffs."

He sees the difficult times as God's test of our trust. "It's especially hard in the beginning. On your first paycheck, it hurts. On the second, the pain's a little less. At about the third or fourth, there's no pain at all. You get used to it. It's a habit. But you have to make that firm resolution: I'm gonna do it and not give in."

Kenna, like many others, interprets tithing to mean taking ten percent off the "first fruits" — gross income, rather than net. He divides this up as "5 percent to the parish and 5 percent to other Catholic institutions." He also gives of his time and has, for many decades, been a volunteer for the St. Vincent de Paul Society.

Indeed, many Catholics extend the concept of almsgiving beyond money to include time and talent as well, donating a portion of these to worthy causes.


In the late fourth century, St. John Chrysostom looked at the good life people were living in the imperial court, and he was filled with righteous anger. In the name of God, he raged against those who owned toilet seats made of gold, while other people starved in cold hovels.

While our commodes may be made of less precious materials, many Americans today enjoy a better standard of life than any Byzantine emperor ever knew. Central heat, central air conditioning, electric lights, consistently safe food and water, antibiotics, and even aspirin — these are luxuries beyond the dreams of our ancient ancestors.

We are living high, but are we giving high?

It's a good question to ask ourselves during Lent. It is a scandal, after all, for Christians to have closets overstuffed with clothing when there are families who are shivering because they can't pay their heating bill. It is a scandal for Christians to be epidemically overweight when they have near neighbors who go to bed hungry.

We need to give to God — whom we meet in our neighbor — until these problems go away. Whatever we give, whether it's a tenth or a twentieth or half, is symbolic of the greater giving that defines the Christian life. As God gave himself entirely to us, so we give ourselves entirely to Him. In the Eucharist, He holds nothing back. He gives us His body, blood, soul and divinity — everything He has. That's the giving we need to imitate.

Charity begins at home, where we daily make the choice to give our time, our attention, our affirming smile, and give generously. But charity must not stop there, because for Catholics "home" is universal, and our family is as big as the world. We need to dig deep and give much where much is needed. But, whenever possible, our charity should also involve personal acts, not just automatic withdrawals from our bank account. Pope John Paul asked us to see, and be seen by, "the human face of poverty."

We give what we have till we have nothing left to give. My friend and sometime co-author Regis Flaherty remembers his sister Pat as a woman who practiced giving all her life, to her sibilings, her husband, her children and her friends. To the end, she gave what she could. "When she was dying she was in and out of consciousness, but whenever she looked up at us, she would invariable smile — absolutely amazing considering how much she was suffering."

Sometimes all we can give is a smile, but sometimes that is the greatest sacrifice, the greatest prayer, and indeed the most generous and most sacrificial alms.



The three distinguishing
marks of Lent

prayer
fasting
almsgiving



ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Mike Aquilina. "Almsgiving." The St. Paul Center blog (February 27, 2012).

Reprinted by permission of the author, Mike Aquilina.

The St. Paul Center for Biblical Theology is a non-profit research and educational institute that promotes life-transforming Scripture study in the Catholic tradition. The Center serves clergy and laity, students and scholars, with research and study tools — from books and publications to multimedia and on-line programming.

THE AUTHOR

Mike Aquilina is vice president of the St. Paul Center for Biblical Theology and co-host, with Scott Hahn, of several television series on EWTN. He is the author or co-author of,Living the Mysteries: A Guide for Unfinished Christians, Fathers of the Church: An Introduction to the First Christian Teachers,The Way of the Fathers: Praying with the Early Christians, and Praying in the Presence of Our Lord: With St. Thomas Aquinas. See Mike Aquilina's "The Way of the Fathers" blog here.

Copyright © 2012 The St. Paul Center for Biblical Theology