NOR article on Karl Rahner, S.J.

FROM MYSTERY TO OBSCURITY
Karl Rahner's Baneful Impact on Theology

September 1995
By Charles W. James

Charles W. James is an Episcopal priest who has just finished his Licentiate in Sacred Theology at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley.

Karl Rahner is, without debate, the most influential Catholic theologian of the 20th century. During the course of his spectacular career he wrote or spoke on almost every subject of the Christian faith. When I studied theology at the Jesuit-run University of Santa Clara, Rahner was quoted with more authority than St. Thomas Aquinas. As an Anglican, that gave me pause, so I decided to dig deeper into Rahner's thought. What struck me immediately was Rahner's insistence on interacting with modern European philosophy, especially that of Immanuel Kant. Rahner was unwilling to carry out his theological task in the vacuum of a biblical positivism. He engaged modern philosophy in theological debate, forcing philosophy and theology to speak to each other. Some found this conversation threatening while others found it refreshing. This ambiguous response toward Rahner was reflected in the way he was treated during the Second Vatican Council. At the start of the Council, Rahner was not allowed to act as a peritus -- a theological expert who consults with the Council Fathers. But this semi-ban was lifted from Rahner when Pope John XXIII intervened and gave him the status of theological consultant.

But Rahner's influence has grown even further in the postconciliar period. First, most of his substantive theological works have been translated from the German so that the sheer weight of his theological system is felt by many. The second reason Rahner is so influential today is that he fits our postmortem mentality. Rahner would rather describe God as "holy mystery" than as absolute being. In the developed theology of Rahner, God is not so much the esse absolutum as the mysterium absolutum. This shift from metaphysics to mystery is Rahner's central contribution to the theology of God, but also his greatest liability. To be sure, we sense a subtle attraction to this theology of mystery because the Church has always acknowledged the incomprehensibility of God. We realize that our finite minds can only speak of God analogously. We know that we can have no direct, clear, or full idea of our Creator. "We see through a glass, darkly," as St. Paul said.

But Rahner's use of the notion of mystery goes further than merely a description of God. He wishes to use mystery as a criterion of theological truth. This mystery, which is God, becomes Rahner's theological touchstone. He sees mystery not only as a description of God, but as the nature of human consciousness as well. Following Martin Heidegger, Rahner says that the human being is the questioning being because the person himself is a question. And this questioning nature of the human person guarantees that mystery will remain an intrinsic part of human knowing. Rahner is thus able to argue that the mystery of God and the mystery of the human spirit are in continuity. Rahner says that the very way we come to verify and clarify our everyday knowledge is by illuminating our sensations with the mystery beyond us. We somehow already recognize this mystery, our minds move toward it by the universal grace of God, and we use it to give meaning to what confronts us in the world. Hence, for Rahner, mystery serves as a criterion of truth, a backdrop to all our finite thought. The mystery, which is God, answers the human quest for truth. Absolute mystery serves as a measure for the all-too-human striving of our intellect. In short, Rahner replaces the Thomistic analogy of being with an analogy of mystery (analogia mysterii).

This is all very postmodern because it agrees with the postmodern turn away from the metaphysical foundations of thought. The postmodern attitude eschews Plato's forms as well as Aristotle's teleology. It is even ill-at-ease with Darwin and Marx because both held to the 19th-century metaphysical idea of inevitable progress. Rahner fits well within this postmodern attitude because he does not attempt to ground his theology in a metaphysical constant, but rather in mystery. Mystery is his ground as well as his criterion of the validity of theological truth. One may wonder why any Christian would disagree with Rahner's description of God as "holy mystery," or with validating our thought by this mystery. At first look, it appears to provide the spiritual orientation that much of our contemporary theology needs.

But does Rahner's criterion of mystery serve to validate our beliefs or merely relativize them? Can mystery validate thought? Can it serve as a measure of clarity against which we may compare our very unclear ideas? By its very nature Rahner's notion of mystery cannot possibly serve this function. Permanent mystery can neither validate nor clarify our thought, it can only reveal its finitude. Granted, Rahner's stance has given us a needed pastoral warning against conceptual arrogance, but he has not given us a usable criterion of theological truth. What we need in order to validate our thought and our theological statements is not mystery, but a criterion that is substantial and specific enough to serve as a practical guide for our groping intellects. We need a portrait of truth and reality that shares in both the contingencies of history and the absoluteness of divinity. This criterion, marked by both radical contingency and radical divinity, is what the Church calls revelation. Should the Church attempt to go "behind" revelation -- try to validate her message by an appeal to mystery? The very opaqueness of mystery makes it difficult to see how we could ever connect revelation, much less our paltry thoughts, with the infinite otherness of this "holy mystery."

In fact, Rahner tells us that we cannot even conceive of this mystery; it must be experienced in its infinite silence. But if this is so, how can a nonconceptual (experiential) criterion serve to clarify, much less validate, our conceptual thought? It may be possible to find a home for our feelings in this "holy mystery," but what about our ideas? For all of Rahner's lip service to history and contingency, it seems that he has imprisoned truth in a heaven of mystery which can only be penetrated by the experiential and affective sides of human nature. But if we desire the clarification of our concepts or the validation of our theo-logy, we are left standing before the obscurity of this heaven, outside the gates.

We might ask Rahner just how he would go about clarifying or validating a theological statement with his criterion of mystery. In his essay "Reflections on Methodology in Theology," he argues that the propositions of theology must constantly be referred back to religious experience. The job of the theologian is reductio in mysterium -- i.e., a referring of the theological statement back to the theologian's (or the Church's) experience of absolute mystery. In his essay "What is a Dogmatic Statement?" Rahner says that a true theological statement "leads into the mysterium." Rahner makes our experience of mystery the criterion of theological truth. Only those theological statements which reflect this experienced mystery are valid statements. Hence, the experience of mystery is the measure of theology.

But notice what Rahner is really saying. It is not even the "holy mystery" itself that functions as a criterion of theological truth for Rahner, but rather our experience of this mystery. Rahner has ironically allowed his criterion of mystery to become no more than an experience emanating from the subjectivity of religious feeling. We can only "know" mystery by experiencing it and this experience becomes the criterion of theological truth. Rahner has not successfully surpassed Kant's subjectivity which led straight to the Romantic piety of Schleiermacher. Rather than helping us integrate our thought and our religious experience, Rahner hopelessly dichotomizes them, leaving thought to fend for itself without any theological rationale.

Robert Coles has recently stated that we live in an age of "applauded subjectivity." The postmodern age emphasizes subjectivity out of its fear of objectivity. The postmodernist, whether theological or not, lazily prefers the wide open spaces of obscurity to the hard, narrow road of clarity. Rahner's criterion fits well with this attitude since his principle of mystery precludes conceptual clarity. The central problem is: Given that people have wildly differing religious experiences, how will we adjudicate between one theology and another? Also: How will we ever be able to develop a criterion of theological truth that is more than the mirror-image of ourselves? Human beings need a criterion that will give them a worldview that acknowledges both the real contingencies of their existence and the objective grace that pervades that existence.

The Church finds her criterion of truth in revelation, which means that there is a source of knowledge outside human consciousness. For anyone with commitments to postmodern humanism, this is anathema. To claim that knowledge could come from any source apart from human creativity is to contradict flatly the postmodern mentality. But the Church's acknowledgment of divine revelation makes just that claim. The belief in divine revelation serves as a warning against our self-congratulatory intellectual subjectivity. The idea that the "Word of God" is disturbingly and freely present within the world of contingent history makes our privatization of religion in modern Western culture a rather absurd attempt at domesticating the giant. What disturbs many postmodernists about revelation is not its divine nature, but its historical presence. If revelation were confined to the heaven of pure spirit, all would be well. But the Church insists that revelation is, by its nature, historical. It participates in the radical contingency which is part of human experience. It is not a purely formal and limitless category, nor is it conveniently obscured by the mysteriousness of its absoluteness. Revelation is incarnational, sharing in both the contingency of our history and absoluteness of divinity. In order to verify her thought, the Church does hot look up to absolute mystery; rather, she looks out to history, to "deeds and words." As the Dogmatic Constitution on Divine Revelation states, "This economy of revelation is realized by deeds and words, which are intrinsically bound up with each other." This Vatican II document goes on to state that the deeds of God in history reveal the doctrine in the words. But also, the words "bring to light the mystery they [the deeds] contain." Note the restricted use of mystery here. The locus of mystery is history, not, as in Rahner, the limitless mysterium absolutum.

If the Church wants to validate or clarify her theology, she cannot do so by piercing through the appearance of revelation toward some formless mystery. She must patiently pay attention to the events of history and the words of Scripture and Tradition in order to relate her experience to her inherited concepts. In the ongoing work of the mutual interpretation of deeds and words, the Church faces the mystery of God. This mystery, however, is not her criterion of truth, but the inspiration to continue her journey. To use a nautical metaphor, mystery fills the sails of the Church, but something else must serve as her compass.

If we follow Rahner's use of mystery as a criterion of theological truth, we will be forcing the experiential and affective nature of our lives to play a conceptual role -- forcing our feelings to function as concepts. But even more confusing, if we appeal to absolute mystery as our theological criterion, we will be deliberately looking away from the place we are most likely to discover our proper criterion, revelatory history. Our compass cannot be found in the ahistorical realm of mystery, but in the contingency of existence into which God has chosen to enter. The incarnation of Christ proclaims that God has entered history and infused it with meaning. The Church is, then, well advised not to look away from this history, but to find the light of her guidance embedded within it. The Church finds this light in the reality of divine revelation. In revelation the Church sees the integration of historical contingency and conceptuality.

In revelation, we find the integration of experiential and conceptual knowledge, the two modes of human knowledge which Western philosophy has been trying to integrate since Plato. Modeled by this reality of revelation, the Church defines truth as both contingent and conceptual. Our understanding of truth is modeled after our understanding of revelation. The incarnation of Christ historicized God and impregnated our history with revelation. We must, therefore, look to this revelatory history if we are to find the recognizable face of holy mystery. We will find our criterion there, as Jesus did. But what kind of criterion may we hope to find?

First, it will not be a single criterion, but a multifaceted one. Second, our criterion will most likely not be apprehended in an instantaneous intuition. Rather, it will emerge as we patiently interpret event with word and word with event. It will be a criterion for pilgrims. But what we lack in singularity we will gain in well-roundedness. And what we lack in immediacy, we will gain in detailed familiarity.

Let us call our criterion the criterion of contingency, and let's replace Rahner's analogy of mystery with an analogy of history. Knowledge of God is made possible not by a continuity of mystery, but by the continuity of history that the incarnating God initiated between Himself and, His creation. Man can know God because both participate in history. But what are the specifics of our criterion? How can we use it, say, to validate a theological statement? Here are some guidelines.

(1) Does our theological statement adequately integrate the experience and the knowledge of the Church? If it is true that revelation is both historical (experiential) and conceptual (thought-like), then our theology ought to reflect this partnership and integrate the experience of grace and the conceptualization of grace. In brief, does our theology help to wed our experience with our doctrine, or divorce them? (It is not accidental that Rahner's experientialism has been deployed by certain Catholic leaders at the parish level to downplay or jettison Catholic doctrine.)

(2) Does our theological statement illuminate the revelatory truth found in the particularities of history? If history without revelation is dark, surely revelation without history is too bright for us to see.

(3) Does our theological statement encourage the growth of the Church's knowledge? By its nature, revelation allows history and word to interpret each other, thus providing for the possibility of understanding. Our theological statements, by reflecting this interaction, should themselves promote the growth of our understanding of that revelation. Theology is not merely the repetition of historical dogma, but the growing understanding of dogma through history.

Rahner's criterion of mystery lacks the specificity of history, and that is why it is not a usable criterion. Rahner consistently points us beyond history toward absolute mystery. In so doing, he doesn't even give us a meaningful criterion of mystery -- he just gives us obscurity.

Big Bang at the atomic lab after scientists get their maths wrong

via Lew Rockwell

April 8, 2007
Big Bang at the atomic lab after scientists get their maths wrong
Jonathan Leake, Science Editor

A £2 billion project to answer some of the biggest mysteries of the universe has been delayed by months after scientists building it made basic errors in their mathematical calculations.
The mistakes led to an explosion deep in the tunnel at the Cern particle accelerator complex near Geneva in Switzerland. It lifted a 20-ton magnet off its mountings, filling a tunnel with helium gas and forcing an evacuation.

It means that 24 magnets located all around the 17-mile circular accelerator must now be stripped down and repaired or upgraded. The failure is a huge embarrassment for Fermilab, the American national physics laboratory that built the magnets and the anchor system that secured them to the machine.

It appears Fermilab made elementary mistakes in the design of the magnets and their anchors that made them insecure once the system was operational.

Last week an apparently furious and embarrassed Pier Oddone, director of Fermilab, wrote to his staff saying they had caused “a pratfall on the world stage”. He said: “We are dumb-founded that we missed some very simple balance of forces. Not only was it missed in the engineering design but also in the four engineering reviews carried out between 1998 and 2002 before launching the construction of the magnets.”

The machine, the Large Hadron Collider (LHC), aims to recreate the conditions of the Big Bang, when the universe is thought to have exploded into existence about 14 billion years ago. However, the November start-up may now have to be delayed until next spring.

Dr Lyn Evans, who leads the accelerator construction project at Cern, the European organisation for nuclear research, said the explosion had been potentially very dangerous.

“There was a hell of a bang, the tunnel housing the machine filled with helium and dust and we had to call in the fire brigade to evacuate the place,” he said. “The people working on the test were frightened to death but they were all in a safe place so no-one was hurt.” An investigation by Cern researchers found “fundamental” flaws that caused the explosion, close to the CMS detector, one of the LHC’s most important experiments.

The accelerator is designed to smash together protons, a kind of sub-atomic particle, at near light speed. The hope is that such collisions will generate exotic new particles — especially the so-called Higgs boson which, theorists predict, could help explain key properties of matter, such as how it acquires mass and, hence, weight.

The LHC itself comprises two pipes, each containing a beam of protons travelling at near-light speed that are steered around the circular tunnel by powerful magnets. Such magnets are “superconducting” meaning they and the whole LHC are cooled to below -268C, using pipes filled with liquid helium.

The two proton beams travel in opposite directions but, at various points around the ring, their pipes merge, allowing the protons in each beam to collide.

However, since the thickness of each beam is less than that of a human hair, they have to be focused. This is the task of a second set of magnets, and it is these that were under test at the time of the explosion.

Coincidentally, Fermilab stands to gain most from delays at Cern. Its researchers also operate a rival but less powerful particle accelerator, the Tevatron.

Fermilab staff are pushing the Tevatron to ever-higher energies hoping that they might find the Higgs boson before the LHC switches on. An LHC researcher said: “Ironically, this delay could be all they need.”

Can liberalism be salvaged?

Wolfe's "Natural Law Liberalism"

Ryan Anderson has a review (subscribers only) of Chris Wolfe's new book, Natural Law Liberalism, in National Review. Here is an excerpt from the review:

Central to Western political liberalism is the notion that disagreement can be resolved through common deliberation ­ and that representative constitutional democracy is the best institution for such deliberation. This makes us think that any kind of clash can be solved through rational discussion of the truths we share. At the same time, however, our modern system is founded on skepticism about the ability of people and their governments to define and enforce a universal vision of the good life. This makes us think that there aren’t any real truths to be shared.

It is in response to such worries that Christopher Wolfe has written his new book, Natural Law Liberalism. Wolfe is a Marquette University political scientist who focused his early work on constitutional interpretation and judicial activism. He founded the American Public Philosophy Institute to support the efforts of such thinkers as Robert P. George, Russell Hittinger, and Hadley Arkes, who have been working to rearticulate the natural-law foundations of political life. Natural Law Liberalism is Wolfe’s contribution to the effort.

By liberalism, Wolfe means the whole range of modern political thought, from the early Enlightenment through the American Founding ­ the philosophical theory of government that emphasizes human equality, personal liberty, individual rights, participatory government, and the rule of law. And natural law, as Wolfe conceives it, is the long Western tradition of reflection on the nature of human flourishing and the rational principles that can guide human action and choice. His thesis is simple: If political liberalism is to justify itself at home and abroad, it must return to the classical tradition of Western thought and embrace natural-law theory as the account of its foundations.

So a "liberal" community needs to follow natural law and natural justice? Or is Professor Wolfe trying to do more than this? I would be interested in reading his take on liberalism, and what he takes the first principles of liberalism to be--alas, it's $75! Perhaps something I can order from Barnes and Noble, with its 10% off coupon.

So governments and legislation need to be guided by a proper and full understanding of the human good. This is true for any government... but is it really liberalism if the Natural Law becomes the admitted foundation of government? Would the liberal theorists of the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries recognize it as such? Some of the American founding fathers recognized that virtue was necessary for good government and for the citizens -- but how can one bring about virtue if liberalism does not accept the traditional (i.e. Aquinas's) understanding of the purposes of law, and the necessity of tradition, custom, and discipline/education to bring virtue about?

The greatest weakness of natural law theorists who try to reconcile NL with liberalism (most of whom are Catholic) is they fail to recognize that size is a problem. Liberalism is tied to the rist of the nation-state, and to the historical forces behind it. More once I am able to read the book...

the book (published by Cambridge University Press) -- the publisher's description:

Political philosophy and natural law theory are not contradictory, but - properly understood - mutually reinforcing. Contemporary liberalism (as represented by Rawls, Guttman and Thompson, Dworkin, Raz, and Macedo) rejects natural law and seeks to diminish its historical contribution to the liberal political tradition, but it is only one, defective variant of liberalism. A careful analysis of the history of liberalism, identifying its core principles, and a similar examination of classical natural law theory (as represented by Thomas Aquinas and his intellectual descendants), show that a natural law liberalism is possible and desirable. Natural law theory embraces the key principles of liberalism, and it also provides balance in resisting some of its problematic tendencies. Natural law liberalism is the soundest basis for American public philosophy, and it is a potentially more attractive and persuasive form of liberalism for nations that have tended to resist it.
• Unique in proposing a form of liberalism rooted in natural law theory
• Offers a relatively non-technical description of natural law theory intended to be compatible with contemporary forms of natural law theory
• Describes and defends a form of liberalism compatible with traditional morality and religion

Contents
Part I. Contemporary Liberalism: 1. Contemporary liberal exclusionism I: John Rawls’s antiperfectionist liberalism; 2. Contemporary liberal exclusionism II: Rawls, Macedo, and ‘neutral’ liberal public reason; 3. Contemporary liberal exclusionism III: Gutmann and Thompson on ‘reciprocity’; 4. Contemporary liberalism and autonomy I: Ronald Dworkin on paternalism; 5. Contemporary liberalism and autonomy II: Joseph Raz on trust and citizenship; 6. ‘Offensive liberalism’: Macedo and ‘liberal education’; Part II. Liberalism and Natural Law: 7. Understanding liberalism: a broader vision; 8. Understanding natural law; 9. Liberalism and natural law; 10. ‘Cashing out’ natural law liberalism: the case of religious liberty; 11. A natural law public philosophy.

Links
Christopher Wolfe (Thomas International)
American Public Philosophy Institute (Marquette)
From Constitutional Interpretation to Judicial Activism: The ...

Shoot!

Missed this today! Only found out about it while going through Mirror of Justice.

On Monday, April 9th, Professor Robert P. George of Princeton University will be giving the 2007 John Dewey Lecture in Philosophy of Law at Harvard University. The lecture, entitled "Natural Law," will be held at 5:00 p.m. in Austin East Hall at Harvard Law School. A reception will follow. All are welcome.

Found this at Pontifications tonight

St Gregory Palamas: orthodoxor or innovator?

Alexander Pruss moving to Baylor

and away from Georgetown

Socialist statists are still with us

The limits of eco-localism: Scale, strategy, socialism (PDF) (from EB)
by Gregory Albo

...The following critique of eco-localism and its conceptualization of a transition to a sustainable economy encompasses five dimensions: (a) the effectiveness of prices for transmitting ecologically sustainable decisions for place-based regulation; (b) the limits of technical and organizational change - apart from issues of distribution and social relations - as a solution to eco­logical problems; (c) the coordinative and ecological failures of bioregional and community-based economic alternatives; (d) the issue of whether all supra-local scales are ecologically perverse; and (e) the scale and role of de­mocracy in any ecological transition that is socially just.

...Political organization also makes more widely accessible - both in knowl­edge and active solidarity - the class struggles of one place with those of other places, thereby accomplishing in practice what conceptual abstraction allows in theory. But it does so in a structured way, so that political mobiliza­tion, reflection, debate and learning can move fluidly across scales. Political organization allows a depth to strategic thinking and action in a way that international justice fairs, although they can be remarkably open spaces for cross-sectoral dialogue, cannot. The internet can generate fantastical amounts of global e-mail information and outrage but this can rarely be backed up, however much it is used to project an organic spontaneity onto the multi­tude, with social mobilization. A developing political capacity is necessary to translate local militancy into wider demands and socio-ecological pro­grammes at other territorial scales of democracy and ecological sustainability.

...The eco-socialist political challenge is to connect particular local struggles, generalize them, and link them to a universal project of socio-ecological transformation, against the universalization of neoliberalism and capitalist markets as the regulators of nature and society.

The politics of eco-localism have been, in a sense, quite the opposite of the agenda just sketched here. Eco-localism projects the local as an ideal scale and conceives communitarian eco-utopias in a politics that is individualiz­ing and particularizing. Under neoliberalism, eco-localism has evolved into a practical attempt to alter individual market behaviours, and to disconnect and internalize local ecologies and communities from wider struggles and political ambitions.

But there is no reason to support, and every reason to op­pose, any suggestion that the national and the global are on a scale that is any less human and practical than the local. This is not to deny the importance of the local in anti-neoliberal politics; nor the importance of the question of appropriate scale for post-capitalist societies. It is to insist, however, that local socio-ecological struggles cannot be delinked from - and are indeed always potentially representative of - universal projects of transcending capitalism on a world scale.

Henry George

Mentioned in various discussions at Small is Still Beautiful.

Henry George (wiki, History of Economic Thought)
Who was Henry George?
wiki entry on Georgism

Progress and Poverty
Progress & Poverty, by Henry George
Robert Schalkenbach Foundation


Henry George Institute
Henry George Foundation
Henry George Foundation of America

Oscar B. Johannsen / Georgism: True Libertarianism

Geoism Georgism Geonomics Web Sites

Tim Worstall: Georgism Returns!

The Single Tax
single tax movement

Henry George and the Single Tax
A Primer on Henry George's Single Tax
Henry George / The Single Tax What It Is and Why We Urge It

Henry George, Biography: The Concise Encyclopedia of Economics ...
William F. Buckley, Jr. / On Henry George

urban tools

A critique? Individual Liberty: George and the Single Tax

Critique of Georgism
Mutualist Blog: Free Market Anti-Capitalism: Almost Thou ...

(Mutualist.org)
Individual Liberty critique

Pope Benedict XVI On Natural Law

Pope Benedict XVI On Natural Law Fr. James V. Schall, S.J. March 16, 2007

"The Ten Commandments, which constitute an extraordinary path of life and indicate the surest way for living in freedom from slavery to sin, contain a privileged expression of the natural law." -- Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Church, #22.

"A civilized people is held together by its common understanding of what is virtuous and vicious, noble and base."-- Allan Bloom and Harry Jaffa, Shakespeare's Politics, 1964. [1]

"Human freedom is always a freedom shared with others. It is clear that the harmony of freedom can be found only in what is common to all: the truth of the human being, the fundamental message of being itself, exactly the lex naturalis." -- Benedict XVI, "To the International Congress on Natural Moral Law." [2]

I.

The headlines in L'Osservatore Romano (English version), for the Holy Father's lecture on the natural law read as follows: "'Lex naturalis' reflects 'lex divina.'" As far as I know, this sentence is not found in the comments that Benedict XVI gave in the Clementine Hall to the gathering of the natural law conference. Now, I suppose that this usage of natural law "reflecting" divine law could be defended with some careful distinctions. But normally one would say, at least in the language of St. Thomas, that the natural law reflects the lex aeterna. The lex divina refers rather to revelation, to "positive" divine law.

The only time "divine law" is used in the text is in a citation from Gaudium et Spes about marriage in which it says that "the institution of marriage has been 'confirmed by the divine law.'" The obvious meaning here is that the natural law was already in place so that the divine law was not the origin of the original understanding of what marriage was. That understanding was already in the natural law through the eternal law. These remarks, however, should not be taken to mean that there is a conflict between the eternal and natural law over against the divine law.

Indeed, in the initial citation from the Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Church, the relation of the Ten Commandments--which are revelation--to the natural law--which is reason--is that the former reinforces and confirms what is already in some real sense known in the latter. As such, we do not need the Ten Commandments to know what theft, murder, or adultery is. But the Commandments both reinforce our knowledge and strengthen our wills to act according to our reason. Ethical "knowledge" is always related to doing.

Aquinas says that the natural law is the eternal law looked at from the point of view of the creature-subject. Or better, the creature's very being, his "natural law," is a reflection of the eternal law that makes him to be this rather than that. He is what he is because of how the eternal law conceived him. Even though Hugo Grotius, in a famous and oft-cited remark, said the "natural law would be the natural law, even if God did not exist," this is not the Thomist view. The natural law does not create itself to be what it is. The eternal law is the understanding in the mind of God of all those things in their diversity that are outside of God. As such, God did not need to create anything outside of Himself. God could have conceived something but decided never to create it. On the other hand, nothing exists but what is first conceived or anticipated in eternal law. Otherwise something would come from nothing.

The divine law, likewise, need not have been. "Human law" refers to the political or positive laws that men need or find helpful to achieve the practicalities of their social and political nature. When Aquinas talks of the divine law, he asks a very specific question: is it "reasonable," that is, does it makes sense, for God, with some (to us) intelligible reason, to have given mankind--in addition to eternal, natural, and human law--a divine law?

Here a philosopher, considering the situation, really wants to know the relation of reason and revelation. Are they compatible? The natural law does not exactly "reflect" the divine law. Rather, it explains why natural law, in addition to itself and positive or human law, might "need," or why it might be advisable to have, further explanations. These explanations were designed to help complete man's actual purpose in this world. They were designed ultimately to achieve man's particular destiny, the transcendent inner life of the Trinity offered to him as a gift..

Thus, Aquinas listed the four famous areas in which natural law might conceivably be open to further elucidations. These elaborations would at least make plausible why revelation might in fact have happened. That is, why is it not irrational to accept revelation on these points? What Aquinas was really driving at was thus whether it was "reasonable," or whether it made sense, that God, without contradicting Himself or without being accused of initial negligence, might take the trouble to teach us more than what we could know by our own limited rational powers? But what was actually revealed in the Old and New Testaments was not "contradictory" to reason actively thinking on itself along its already established lines.

Aquinas thought several arguments could at least suggest to us that God might further instruct us in a way that, when spelled out, would make sense to us. Four reasons were given to consider: 1) that we need a more clear understanding of God than the vague, but valid, notion found in the philosophers by their methods; 2) that the positive law could only deal with external actions whereas the divine law commanded that we also have our inner souls in order (since this is where all disorders originated); 3) that we needed a more careful description of what we ought to do in every day life, hence the commandments; and, finally 4) that we needed to know about heaven and hell, that ultimately unrepentant crimes would be punished and unacknowledged good works would be rewarded. Otherwise, the universe would seem to be poorly made.

The term "divine law" in Aquinas is thus a specialized term. In a sense we could say, more properly, that the natural law, under conditions of time and finiteness, did not reflect adequately the eternal law. Thus, we needed a divine law addressed to our understanding about why we have so much difficulty in observing the natural law of our being. But if it is "natural," why would we need more guidance? Two reasons are given. One has to do with the very nature of a finite being who has intelligence, and the other with the Fall, which involved us in an original disorder of soul that we repeat when we choose ourselves over what is right.

II.

Be that as it may, the Pope began his lecture by noting man's increasing capacity "to decipher the rules and structures of matter and in the consequent domination of man over nature." This reference to a principle of order in matter is a favorite theme of Benedict XVI. He sees its Platonic origins. What is at stake is that when scientists undertake to examine nature, there is something there to find--something that is outside the scientists' own minds. This is why they can, in fact, check or verify to others their own work to see whether it is true or not. The Holy Father also concludes that this scientific knowledge gives man "domination over nature," words that recall the passage in Genesis in which man is given "dominion" over all things.

Benedict, likewise, sees a darker side of this "dominion," as it recalls the project of Bacon that man can seemingly "improve" his estate apart from nature. The Pope next shifts attention from nature itself to the modern "methods" of analyzing it. Here, though he acknowledges the advantages, he is concerned with "method." "The method that permits us to know ever more deeply the rational structures of matter makes us ever less capable of perceiving the source of this rationality, creative Reason." What is being said here? Evidently nothing is wrong with knowing more about nature or its "rational structures." Why then would this scientific method be dangerous? It obscures the question of the origin of nature itself. The method limits itself--a scientific "self-limitation"--to only the nature of mathematical objects, which as such prescind from motion.

"The capacity to see the laws of material being makes us incapable of seeing the ethical message contained in being, a message that tradition calls lex naturalis, natural moral reason." The method is "reductionist," that is, it can only see what its presuppositions allow it to see. It does not see all that is there to see. Spiritual and free choices are not "material." Hence, they not mathematical, or based in matter. They do not appear under the method's scope or field. Thus, for many people today, the world is "incomprehensible." Metaphysics, the science of being as such, is excluded. The only thing that exists is that which is a priori assumed and falls under the object of scientific method, that is, mathematics.

Since ethics is not "scientific" in this view, people have a sense of "disorientation," of guidelessness, of no place to discover what they are unless they are presumed to be only "material." The Pope thinks this sense of no order is particularly a problem for the young who still must make "fundamental" life choices. This choosing is difficult to do if we have no moral guidance from our own nature and its order. Because of this problem, the Pope sees the need to return to "natural law and to rediscover its truth common to all men." He then cites Paul to the Romans about the "law written on the heart of man." The Pope affirms that this law is still accessible today. Its original location in our hearts has not changed as we are still men.

The first principle of this law recalls that already formulated by the philosophers: "to do good and to avoid evil." We can find this principle in Aristotle or Cicero. This principle is self-evident; that is, one only affirms it by any effort to deny it. Suppose, for example, I say that what is "evil" by natural law standards is "good" (the Machiavellian problem). What have I affirmed? What in effect I do is to say it is "good" to do what is "evil."

Following Aquinas, the Pope adds that from this first principle of doing good and avoiding evil, all the other principles flow and are connected. That is, each action is defined in terms of good and evil. They are not interchangeable at will. The man who says that it is "good" to do "evil," says, at the same time, that it is "evil" to do "good." Otherwise, he would not say anything. No one can escape, then, the question "what is good, particularly what is the human good?"

The first explicit example of doing good and avoiding evil that Benedict gives is "respect for human life from its conception to its natural end, because this good of life is not man's property but the free gift of God." This position was similar to an argument already heard in Cicero about suicide, that we should not take our own lives because these lives are from the gods. We do not cause our own "what we are," our own human being. Nor do we cause that we are to come to be. St. Irenaeus says that "from the beginning God created man out of his own generosity" (Adv. Her. 4). Benedict says the same thing here. This position implies that we do not have "dominion" over what we are as human beings. Rather we discover what we are as given and, by reflection, follow the "law" of our human being..

Secondly, again recalling Aquinas, we have the duty to "seek the truth as the necessary presupposition of every authentic personal maturation." This inclination includes the duty to seek the truth about God.

Thirdly, there is the question of freedom. Human freedom "is always a freedom shared with others." Here Benedict makes a point that is, I think, characteristic to his own charism. "The harmony of freedom can be found only in what is common to all: the truth of the human being, the fundamental message of being itself, exactly the lex naturalis." Freedom is for the sake of being; it does not make the being itself to be what it is. Modern freedom often wants to say "autonomy is freedom"--that we create ourselves. Not only is this dull, but it misses the depths of the being that we already are, a being greater than our own conceptions of ourselves.

Benedict next mentions those two themes of John Paul II, justice and solidarity. Here again the hopes of the poor and the weak are explained precisely in terms of the feelings of justice and solidarity that others have for their plight. This was a theme found in Deus Caritas Est, about active charity as a necessary function in any social order.

III.

Benedict next turns to the term "values," a very dangerous word in modern German philosophy, as he knows. In Max Weber, and through him in much of modern sociology, a "value" meant precisely a lack of knowledge of any good or a lack of a standard by which we could orient ourselves. Modern social science was designed to tell us how to do whatever we wanted to do, whatever it was. No one could decide which "value" was better or different from any others. Evil and good had the same relativity.

Benedict begins by separating himself from this dubious usage of the word "value." "In these values (grounded in natural law) are expressed unbreakable and contingent norms that do not depend on the will of the legislator and not even on the consensus that the State can and must give. They are, in fact, norms that precede any human law: as such, they are not subject to modification by anyone." This is why the natural law is universal. It is not created by the legislator or given final authority by any public consensus.

Benedict next speaks of "ethical imperatives" that flow from the law. The law is meant to be obeyed. It is not merely a statement of fact. The Pope means that these laws indicate, when the circumstances arise, that we should do good and avoid evil in this or that concrete way. Law is in "command form" because it refers to action, the "knowing" part is decided; we need to act or not act in this way or that.

Actions, however, becomes complicated in modern states because we have, more and more, positive (human, civil) laws that "command" us to do what is against the natural law. "In today's ethics and philosophy of Law, petitions of juridical positivism (i.e., the law is only what the legislator says) are widespread. As a result, legislation often becomes only a compromise between different interests: seeking to transform private interests or wishes into laws that conflict with the duties deriving from social responsibility." This passage shows a good grasp both of the law school philosophies and the practice of legislatures.

What is the source of any law's authority or validity, if it is not itself and its own promulgation? "Every juridical methodology, be it on the local or international level, ultimately draws its legitimacy from its rooting in the natural law, in the ethical message inscribed to the actual human being." It is the actual human being who lives within any legal framework. A "juridical methodology" is one that seeks to explain why it is justified in doing what it commands. It is not its own self-justification.

What is the reason we can call any legal system to explain and justify itself? Why can we object to unjust laws or regimes of terrorism or moral decay? "Natural law is, definitively, the only valid bulwark against the arbitrary power or the deception of ideological manipulation. The knowledge of this law inscribed on the heart of man increases with the progress of the moral conscience" This latter distinction between the natural law that does not change and our knowledge of it that does grow was found in Maritain's discussion of natural law in his Man and the State.

The Pope understands that a more clear understanding of natural law can occur with reflection and experience. He even says that it is a "duty" of those with "public responsibility" to promote this progress. We are supposed to learn more and more about what is right, about what we are. We are not left isolated when more sophisticated problems arise because natural law is available to confront new problems..

"The law inscribed in our nature is the true guarantee offered to everyone in order to be able to live in freedom and to be respected in their own dignity." The natural law is not "outside" of us. We can act freely and intelligently. Even when we obey the law, we can understand why there is law and why we obey it. We can also state why a positive law may be immoral, against reason. We have our own resources in our reason that is something that can be addressed to everyone. Benedict XVI has often indicated that he proposes to meet the modern world in precisely this basis, that of Logos, of reason.

IV.

Benedict again refers to a theme that seems to have become the special vocation of Catholics to defend: the family. This is the institution with no specific recognition or basis of defense, even in the American Constitution, though we might say that the founders presumed it. But modern individualism does not place the family in the central place that is found in Catholic social thought. No institution is more under fire than the family from almost every angle. Yet, with population decline, immigration, family breakup and crises, it seems clear that it is precisely the violation of family life that is not "working" to bring forth the good claimed by its attackers.

Benedict defines the family by citing Gaudium et Spes. It is the "intimate partnership of life and the love which constitutes the marriage state ... established by the Creator and endowed by him with its own proper laws." Here is where it is noted that the dignity of the family is "confirmed" by "divine law." What needs to be emphasized is that the family has its own "proper" laws. The state does not define what the family is or give it its structure.

With a kind of stunning logic, Benedict continues, "therefore, no law made by man can override the norm written by the Creator without society becoming dramatically wounded in what constitutes its basic foundations." We know laws made by man do seek to "override" the norm written by the Creator. Benedict says that society becomes "dramatically wounded." There can be no doubt that this has happened among us.

In a rather personal remark Benedict adds, "I feel the duty to affirm yet again that not all that is scientifically possible is also ethically licit." We can do in the name of law or science what we ought not to do while understanding what we are. Human beings are not "objects" of experimentation This was a theme most powerfully argued by C. S. Lewis in his Abolition of Man. Technology without ethical principles can do "violence" to human nature. Nonetheless, "the contribution of science is of primary importance." The abuses of a thing do not negate against its good uses.

As in other areas, what Benedict is pursuing in this reflection on natural law is an intellectual place where everyone involved can talk of issues based on common principles that are philosophically defined. On this basis, it is possible "to develop a fruitful dialogue between believers and non-believers, between theologians, philosophers, jurists and scientists, which can offer to legislation as well precious material for personal and social life." The Pope sees natural law as a central basis of "private life and social order"

"A civilized people is held together by a common understanding of what is virtuous and vicious, noble and base." This is as good a statement of the meaning of natural law as any. One can, however, turn it around. "An uncivilized people is held together by having no common definition of what is virtuous and vicious, noble and base," of what is good and what is evil. But a "people" with nothing in common except a denial of communality is not a people. It is a collection of isolated individuals, each living in his own world. Many want to define "democracy" in precisely this way, a people held together by no truth, or no possibility of truth except the "truth" that there is no truth. Aristotle would have called this "tyranny." John Paul II did call it "tyranny."

"The harmony of freedom can only be found in what is common to all." There must, finally, be something in what is that all of us can, in reason, discover together, something we find but do not ourselves make. Among these things is our own "natural law," itself reflective of the eternal law, aided by worthy positive laws, and addressed by divine law. The "natural law" of a human being, Aquinas said, is "what is reasonable." It has not changed, but we know more about it, including, more and more, what happens to us when we deny it.

ENDNOTES:

[1] Allan Bloom and Harry Jaffa, Shakespeare's Politics (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1964),
[2] Benedict XVI, February 12, 2007, L'Osservatore Romano, English, February 21, 2007.

The Latin Mass: Old Rites and New Rites in Today's World

The Latin Mass: Old Rites and New Rites in Today's World Anthony E. Clark, Ph.D. March 28, 2007

Legal realism

Legal Realism and the Social Contract by James Boyle

Brian Leiter, Leiter Reports: What is Legal Realism?
Brian Leiter's Law School Reports: "Naturalizing Jurisprudence ...

Return of Legal Realism

New Legal
Empirical Legal Studies: My take on new legal realism
The So-Called "New Legal Realism Project

The Leiter Reports: Editorials, News, Updates: More on Legal Realism

American Legal Realism
Edited by William W. Fisher, Morton J. Horwitz and Thomas A. Reed

Check also:
Professor Bainbridge (UCLA page)
Professor Bainbridge's Business Associations Blog
Mirror of Justice

The History of the Corporation

Mr. Joseph Haggarty told me about this e-book at the Hegel Conference. At least I think it was this one... he didn't remember the author, but said it would turn up easily through a Net search.

Hrm, this seems more polemical, based on the google introduction, but could be useful nonetheless:
The History of the Corporation by Lee Drutman

On the Church's Institutions of Higher Learning

On the Church's Institutions of Higher Learning

Interview With Rector of Regina Apostolorum

ROME, APRIL 3, 2007 (Zenit.org).- The role of Church-related institutions of higher learning is to provide quality formation so the world will come to know Jesus Christ, says the new rector of the Regina Apostolorum university.

Legionary of Christ Father Pedro Barrajón was recently chosen as the rector, succeeding Father Paolo Scarafoni, a member of the same congregation.

Pontifical universities and athenaeums are Catholic higher-education, degree-granting institutions overseen by the Vatican. An athenaeum has two faculties, normally philosophy and theology, while a university has at least three.

Q: What is the greatest service a Roman athenaeum offers the Church?

Father Barrajón: The services a Roman athenaeum offers the Church are varied. I would like to enumerate only a few.

In the first place, every university or athenaeum has the mission to orient the teaching staff and student community in the sincere search of truth and this is done by each discipline according to its own methodology, knowing that there isn't a double or triple truth but only one, and that truth isn't against truth.

In regard to the specific study of theology, which animates the heart of every original contribution of the pontifical universities to the Church, I like to recall the phrase of St. Bonaventure who said that theology must begin with faith, continue with the heart and end in contemplation.

Theology is not fruitful if it does not begin with the faith of the Church, gathered in sacred Scripture and the living Tradition as interpreted authentically by the magisterium.

Therefore, I think that an athenaeum must be a place of sincere, common and systematic search of truth in the different fields of learning. Christianity, as Benedict XVI has highlighted in many of his interventions, does not fear the "logos," given that it is the "Logos" himself who is the center of its faith.

There can be no schizophrenia between faith and reason. On the contrary, they are two wings to rise to the contemplation of truth.

In the second place, an athenaeum is a place of creation of Christian culture. Pope Benedict XVI himself has spoken in his books of the role that creative minorities will have in the Church of the future. Those minorities must have a superior intellectual formation and it is the universities and athenaeums that offer the possibility.

In the third place, the Roman athenaeums have the particular vocation to form priests.

Thanks be to God, there is in them a growing number of lay people, but the great majority continue to be priests who will eventually return to their respective dioceses in which they will contribute with their specific competency to the growth and strengthening of the local Church.

It is a great joy for me to know that every year more than 100 priests are ordained, from some 20 or 30 various countries, who have been formed in our athenaeum.

Q: Do you have a concrete project or specific priority in mind?

Father Barrajón: Historically, our athenaeum arose after a conversation of Pope John Paul II with the founder of the Legion of Christ, Father Marcial Maciel, on the need to forge apostles, priests and laity, of the new evangelization who would be at the unconditional service of the Church.

This apostolic initiative arose with this end in mind and it was entrusted to the special protection of Mary, Queen of the Apostles. I believe that my mission is to be faithful to this foundational origin to help forge these apostles of the new evangelization who can be present in the great areopagi from where Christ must be preached today. And to do so in the most absolute fidelity to the magisterium of the Church and of the Pope.

The rectors who preceded me, Father Álvaro Corcuera, at present director general of the congregation, and Father Paolo Scarafoni, who continues to function as rector of the European University of Rome, have been faithful to these foundational origins and have given the athenaeum great stimulation in all fields.

My present task, I believe, is to continue to work in that same direction, collaborating intensely with the Holy Father and the Holy See, with the other Roman pontifical universities and athenaeums in the delicate task of evangelization of the culture and in the high-level formation of priests and Catholic laity who are to take to the world the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Q: You are also involved in subjects related to the relationship between science and faith. Of what importance is this kind of subject from the theological point of view?

Father Barrajón: I am convinced that faith does not have to be afraid of science; rather a fruitful dialogue between them is very valuable, both for science as well as theology.

However, the mutual dialogue needs mediation -- philosophy, a philosophy of being, open to truth. In this way, the athenaeum has been collaborating actively in the STOQ -- Science and Theology and the Ontological Quest -- project in which several Roman ecclesiastical universities are involved and the Pontifical Council for Culture.

Within the master's, I offer a course on "Christian Anthropology in the Face of Science" in which, after a few initial theoretical bases, I pause to consider some present-day subjects, such as the embryo's soul, death and immortality, mind-brain relationship, the process of animation in evolution, etc.

iirc, Zenit is run by the Legionaries. Anyway, it seems to me that the rector is repeating the recommendations of Pope John Paul II in Fides et Ratio--my question is whether the Legionaries have the intellectual resources to engage in a critical examination of contemporary scientific dogma.

Dr. Thomas Hibbs, 2007 Aquinas Lecture

delivered at the Dominican School of Philosophy and Theology

mp3

Classical Liberalism blog

here

St. Thomas on the three kinds of obedience

II II 104, 6

Ad tertium dicendum quod religiosi obedientiam profitentur quantum ad reuglarem conversationem, secundum quam suis praelatis subduntur. Et ideo quantum ad illa sola obedire tenentur quae possunt ad regularem conversationem pertinere; et haec est obedientia sufficiens ad salutem. Si autem etiam in aliis obedire voluerint, hoc pertinebit ad cumulum perfectionis, dum tamen illa non sint contra Deum aut contra professionem regulae, quia talis obedientia esset illicita.

Sic ergo potest triplex obedientia distingui: una sufficiens ad salutem, quae scilicet obedit in his ad quae obligatur; alia perfecta, quae obedit in omnibus licitis; alia indiscreta, quae etiam in illicitis obedit.

So where does Jesuit obedience fall? Same blame the Jesuits for bringing upon Catholics a culture of "slavish and unquestioning obedience"; others blame voluntarism, while some make a connection between the two. Because of "slavish and unquestioning obedience" the disastrous liturgical reform of the 60s and 70s were implemented without much protest from the laity. (See, for example, Geoffrey Hull, The Banished Heart.) Still, I wonder if this is a fair charge to lay at St. Ignatius of Loyola and the Jesuit Constitutions.

Christian Order article that mentions The Banished Heart
Dr. Hull's Essay, The Proto-History of the Roman Liturgical Reform
Some links

Miscellaneous
Nicholas Wilton Sacred Choral Music
Dominicanus

Holy See to U.N. on Religious Freedom

Holy See to U.N. on Religious Freedom

"A Fundamental Element of the Common Good"

GENEVA, MARCH 30, 2007 (Zenit.org).- Here is the March 22 address which Archbishop Silvano Tomasi, the Holy See's permanent observer to the United Nations at Geneva, delivered to the Ordinary Session of the Human Rights Council on the theme of religious freedom.

* * *

Mr. President,

1. The notable increase of interest in religion for its impact on the lives of individuals and of societies around the world is a phenomenon that finds -- rightly so -- an echo also in the Human Rights Council.

Abuse of rights of believers, even outright violence against them, state restrictions, undue impositions and persecution, public insult to religious feelings, unfortunately persist and call for remedy.

The delegation of the Holy See appreciates and fully supports the openness of the new council to uphold a universal vision of human rights protection.

A major contribution of the council is an approach that is inclusive and consistent with existing provisions in human rights instruments and declarations that clearly support, among other rights, freedom of religion, of expression, of conscience, of worship in private and in public, and respect of religious convictions for believers of all faiths and for nonbelievers alike.

2. The Holy See delegation observes with preoccupation the emergence of an apparent dilemma between respect due to religions and the right to religious freedom as if they were incompatible and mutually exclusive aspects. On the contrary, they are complementary values that cannot stand one without the other.

The religious dimension of the human person, his attitude before transcendence and the consequent ethical demands, make up a concrete and fundamental manifestation of his or her capacity of free auto-determination. It is a basic reference point of personal and social behavior. Religions can offer, and in fact do offer, a solid foundation for the defense of the values of personal and social justice, for respect of others and of nature.

3. In the course of history, there have been sad episodes of religious fanaticism with tragic social results. Yet religions are among those social factors that, together with science, have most contributed to the progress of humanity through the promotion of cultural, artistic, social and humanitarian values. Therefore any religion that preaches or condones violence, intolerance and hatred renders itself unworthy of the name.

On the other hand, we cannot avoid noticing that besides pseudo-religious fanaticism there is evidence on occasions of a certain anti-religious fanaticism that denigrates religion or, generally, the faithful of a religion, by attributing to them responsibility for violent actions done today or in the past by some members of that religion.

The legitimate criticism of certain forms of behavior of followers of a religion should not turn into insult or unjust defamation nor into offensive mockery of its revered persons, practices, rites or symbols. Respect for the rights and dignity of others should mark the limit of any right, even that of the free expression and manifestation of one's opinions, religious ones included.

4. Respect for the human person and his or her dignity implies respect for his freedom in religious matters to profess, practice and publicly manifest one's religion without being mocked, injured or discriminated against. Respect for religion means respect of those who have chosen to follow it and practice it in a free and pacific way, in private and in public, individually or collectively.

Offense to a religion, especially when it is that of a minority, brings about some coercion against its followers that will make it more difficult to profess, practice and manifest this religion in public.

5. The subject of religion and the subject of freedom is always the human person, whose dignity is at the origin of fundamental rights. The respect for any religion is based in the end on the respect that is due to all those who, in the exercise of their freedom, follow and practice it.

Of course, such respect cannot imply contempt or attacks on the rights of people who do not follow the same religion or follow other convictions. In this way, the issue of respect due to religions should find its explicit foundation in the rights of religious freedom and freedom of expression.

Consequently, the promotion of respect for the rights of freedom of religion and freedom of expression should not leave aside the respect for concrete religions, beliefs and opinions in which such rights are realized.

One cannot consider the ridicule of the sacred as a right of freedom. In the full respect of the right of expression, mechanisms or instruments need to be developed, coherent with the human rights provisions that would defend the message of religious communities from manipulation and would avoid a disrespectful presentation of their members.

Mr. President,

6. In conclusion, a really democratic state values religious freedom as a fundamental element of the common good, worthy of respect and protection, and creates the conditions that allow its citizens to live and act freely. If the discussion focuses only on religious tolerance and defamation of religion, it limits the range of rights and the contribution that religions offer.

In fact, the impression could develop that religion is tolerated on the base of cultural, ethnic, political circumstances, that could change or even turn into forms of coercion, and is not recognized as a fundamental human right inherent in every human person.

A comprehensive approach, that sees respect of religion rooted in the freedom that every human person is entitled to enjoy in a balance of rights with others and with society, appears as the reasonable way forward.

Thank you, Mr. President.

[Original text in English; text adapted]

Pope's Study of Church Fathers Not Just for Catholics

Pope's Study of Church Fathers Not Just for Catholics

Interview With Theologian David Warner

CHARLOTTESVILLE, Virginia, MARCH 28, 2007 (Zenit.org).- Benedict XVI's Wednesday-audience series on the Apostolic Fathers can give us hope for unity among Christians, says a Catholic theologian who was once an evangelical Protestant minister.

In this interview with ZENIT, David Warner discusses how reading Church Fathers led to his return to the Catholic Church and offers some reflections on the Pope's teachings.

Warner is now a senior fellow of the St. Paul Center for Biblical Theology in Steubenville, Ohio, and an adjunct professor for the University of Sacramento, California.

Q: How have the early Church Fathers been influential in your own life, first as a Protestant minister and later as a Catholic?

Warner: I left the Catholic Church during my high school years. A far-ranging search led me away from the Church and toward a Christianity of my own invention.

After three years of wandering, I re-embraced Trinitarian theology and had an evangelical conversion to the divinity and lordship of Jesus Christ. This was the beginning of what turned out to be a rediscovery of, and return to, what the Nicene Creed calls the "one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church."

Again and again during my 18-year sojourn through various streams of Protestantism, I kept coming back to study the early centuries of Christianity.

While teaching a survey course in Church history, I became convinced that I was incompletely joined to the one Church directly established by Christ and witnessed to by the Fathers.

Reading the Apostolic Fathers and the second-century apologists forced me to come to grips with the thoroughly "Catholic" elements of early Christianity.

There was no escaping the fact that already in the first generations, Christians believed, for example, in a sacramental theology, a hierarchy led by bishops who were appointed by the first apostles, and the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist.

As a Catholic, my Christian formation was corrected and enriched by studying for three university degrees in Catholic theology. My favorite studies related to patristics.

Whether I was researching biblical, systematic, moral, historical, or pastoral theology; Catholic education or ecumenism; a common point of integration was to discover what the earliest theologians and pastors taught and practiced.

My doctoral studies centered on the 19th-century English convert, Cardinal Newman, who, like so many recent evangelical ministers including myself, returned to the fullness of the ancient Church largely through the influence of the Fathers.

Q: Why would non-Catholic Christians be any more interested in the Fathers of the first couple of centuries than in later saints and doctors of the Church?

Warner: In the Apostolic Fathers and the earliest bishops and apologists, we have the earliest links in the chain that connects today's Christians with the Twelve.

Quoting a second-century bishop, St. Irenaeus of Lyons, Benedict XVI reminded us that St. Clement, the third bishop of Rome in succession from St. Peter, had the first apostles' "preaching in his ears, and their tradition before his eyes."

Pope Clement had no qualms about asserting his extra-local apostolic authority, teaching and correcting the Church of Corinth, in distant Greece.

Other great bishops whom Benedict XVI explores, like St. Ignatius of Antioch, and St. Polycarp died as martyrs for the truth they knew they had received directly from the original apostles who had taught them.

I remember reasoning while still a Protestant minister, that if Clement, Ignatius, Polycarp and Irenaeus could not get it right after just one or two generations, then what hope did I have for believing that Jesus was who the New Testament claimed he was, or that he had founded a Church that would kick in the gates of hell, and be led by the Spirit of truth until his return?

In the end, I wearied of trying to be my own pope, and returned to the Church of the Fathers.

Q: How do you think non-Catholic Christians and others will view Benedict XVI's catechesis on the Fathers of the early Church?

Warner: It is unlikely that many of them will, in fact, come across these teachings directly. But for those who do, their reactions will be influenced by their preconceived ideas and present convictions.

Those who are of a more sociohistorical revisionist persuasion will tend to categorize Benedict's teachings as being nothing more than a repetition of "history as told by the victors" in the ancient battles for orthodoxy.

For them, a seemingly endless stream of "lost gospels" and "new discoveries" are at least complementary to, if not equal or superior to, sacred Scripture and the orthodox writings of the early bishops and saints.

It is a case study for what Cardinal Ratzinger warned of in his homily just before the papal conclave: "Having a clear faith, based on the Creed of the Church, is often labeled today as a fundamentalism. … We are moving toward a dictatorship of relativism which does not recognize anything as certain."

We have become accustomed, for example, to being bombarded through the media every Christmas and Easter with wild theories regarding Jesus and the varieties of early Christian belief, appealing to so-called suppressed writings.

Typically, these were written by pseudonymous authors claiming to be one of the apostles or their companions. Many of these manuscripts promoted Gnostic teachings that were already being warned against by the New Testament authors in the first century.

They were rejected by the early bishops as being unfaithful to the teachings of Christ, as passed down through the apostles and their successors.

One encouraging sign is the growing interest among some Protestant scholars and pastors who are fascinated with the project of rediscovering and adapting the unique worldview, theology and spirituality of the Fathers.

Seeking to become more "Catholic" without necessarily becoming "Roman," many evangelical theologians and publishers are producing serious studies on the biblical theology of the Fathers.

This is a promising path of potential convergence that could serve Benedict XVI's own ecumenical commitments. I think these brothers and sisters in Christ might find food for thought and an expansion of their religious imagination by the Pope's patristic reflections.

Q: Do you have any thoughts on why Benedict XVI would choose to teach on these early Christian Fathers just now?

Warner: The present Wednesday-audience series on the Fathers began on March 7, 2007. It is a continuation of the Pope's catechesis on the mystery of the Church that began a year ago in March 2006, with weekly meditations on each of the Twelve Apostles.

By October, he was ready to draw our attention to St. Paul and his collaborators: apostolic men like Timothy and Titus -- early bishops, and lay leaders in the Church like the married couple, Aquila and Priscilla.

Benedict XVI is trying to follow Our Lord's command to Peter to "feed my sheep." The food he has chosen to provide us during this series is the tremendous heritage of holy men and women who lived and died as witnesses to the Gospel of Jesus Christ and his Church during the first centuries of the Christian era.

From their witness, we can better understand the mystery of the Church as the "presence of Christ among men."

For Catholics, salvation history is the drama of God's unfolding plan for his people. This story can be read in the pages of sacred Scripture and Church history. Benedict XVI's reflections are designed to cause us to reconsider the essential nature and mission of the Church in the context of salvation history.

Q: What common ground can Christians find in the Fathers, and how might this help ecumenical efforts?

Warner: The Fathers can inform and challenge Christians of every description. Protestants can rediscover their forgotten roots. This in turn often results in an increased appreciation for Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, and other episcopal and liturgical traditions.

In other cases, openness to the Fathers becomes a steppingstone toward embracing what we believe to be the fullness of Christian faith and practice found within the Catholic Church.

Catholics can and should rediscover some of the patristic priorities that modern evangelicals are noted for, including: living in and for Christ; reverencing and studying the Bible as the unique, authoritative written word of God; and becoming better informed and enthusiastic witnesses to Jesus Christ, the one and only savior of the world.

We can reaffirm our Catholic tradition of promoting all of the gifts of the Spirit -- including the charismatic and hierarchical gifts -- toward the end of Christian maturity and unity. All of these distinctive traits are clearly taught and modeled in the Fathers.

We can relearn how to "breathe with both lungs," a phrase Pope John Paul II often used to refer to drawing from both the Western and Eastern Christian traditions of theology and spirituality.

Many of the earliest Fathers were in fact "Eastern"; they lived in the Near East or Northeast Africa, and wrote in Greek and other non-Latin tongues. Our Eastern Orthodox brothers have the highest regard for the same figures the Pope is holding up for our example and instruction.

Benedict XVI gives us hope for Christian unity by directing us to Ignatius of Antioch who was "truly a doctor of unity." He taught the unity of the Trinity, the unity of the Incarnate Logos, and the unity of the Church in the bonds of love.

Ignatius' prescription for authentic spirituality and ecumenism was "a progressive synthesis between configuration to Christ -- union with him, life in him -- and dedication to his Church -- union with the bishop, generous service to the community and the world."

The Second Vatican Council taught that authentic ecumenism begins with individual, interior repentance and renewal. This can lead to a broader institutional humility and renewal, and docility toward the lessons of history.

Through the Fathers' writings, all Christians may learn from these privileged witnesses to the sacred deposit of faith entrusted by Our Lord to the first apostles. The first- and second-century Fathers and apologists serve as windows into the mystery of the Church as "one, holy, catholic and apostolic."

On St. Irenaeus of Lyons

On St. Irenaeus of Lyons

"The First Great Theologian of the Church"

VATICAN CITY, MARCH 28, 2007 (Zenit.org).- Here is a translation of the address Benedict XVI gave at the general audience today in St. Peter's Square. The reflection focused on St. Irenaeus of Lyons.

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Dear Brothers and Sisters!

In the catechesis on the great figures of the Church during the first centuries, today we reach the figure of an eminent personality, Irenaeus of Lyons. His biographical information comes from his own testimony, sent down to us by Eusebius in the fifth book of the "Storia Ecclesiastica."

Irenaeus was most probably born in Smyrna (today Izmir, in Turkey) between the years 135 and 140. There, while still a youth, he attended the school of Bishop Polycarp, for his part, a disciple of the apostle John. We do not know when he moved from Asia Minor to Gaul, but the move must have coincided with the first developments of the Christian community in Lyons: There, in 177, we find Irenaeus mentioned among the college of presbyters.

That year he was sent to Rome, bearer of a letter from the community of Lyons to Pope Eleutherius. The Roman mission took Irenaeus away from the persecution by Marcus Aurelius, in which at least 48 martyrs died, among them the bishop of Lyons himself, the 90-year-old Pothinus, who died of mistreatment in jail. Thus, on his return, Irenaeus was elected bishop of the city. The new pastor dedicated himself entirely to his episcopal ministry, which ended around 202-203, perhaps by martyrdom.

Irenaeus is above all a man of faith and a pastor. Like the Good Shepherd, he has prudence, a richness of doctrine, and missionary zeal. As a writer, he aims for a twofold objective: to defend true doctrine from the attacks of the heretics, and to clearly expound the truth of the faith. His two works still in existence correspond exactly to the fulfillment of these two objectives: the five books "Against Heresies," and the "Demonstration of Apostolic Preaching" (which could be called the oldest "catechism of Christian doctrine"). Without a doubt, Irenaeus is the champion in the fight against heresies.

The Church of the second century was threatened by so-called gnosticism, a doctrine which claimed that the faith taught by the Church was nothing more than symbolism for the simpleminded, those unable to grasp more difficult things. Instead, the initiated, the intellectuals -- they called themselves gnostics -- could understand what was behind the symbolism, and thus would form an elite, intellectual Christianity.

Obviously, this intellectual Christianity became more and more fragmented with different currents of thought, often strange and extravagant, yet attractive to many. A common element within these various currents was dualism, that is, a denial of faith in the only God, Father of all, creator and savior of humanity and of the world. To explain the evil in the world, they asserted the existence of a negative principle, next to the good God. This negative principle had created matter, material things.

Firmly rooted in the biblical doctrine of Creation, Irenaeus refuted dualism and the gnostic pessimism that devalued corporal realities. He decisively affirmed the original holiness of matter, of the body, of the flesh, as well as of the spirit. But his work goes far beyond the refutation of heresies: In fact, one can say that he presents himself as the first great theologian of the Church, who established systematic theology. He himself speaks about the system of theology, that is, the internal coherence of the faith.

The question of the "rule of faith" and its transmission lies at the heart of his doctrine. For Irenaeus, the "rule of faith" coincides in practice with the Apostles' Creed, and gives us the key to interpret the Gospel, to interpret the creed in light of the Gospel. The apostolic symbol, a sort of synthesis of the Gospel, helps us understand what the Gospel means, how we must read the Gospel itself.

In fact, the Gospel preached by St. Irenaeus is the one he received from Polycarp, bishop of Smyrna, and the Gospel of Polycarp goes back to the apostle John, Polycarp having been John's disciple. Thus, the true teaching is not that invented by the intellectuals, rising above the simple faith of the Church. The true Gospel is preached by the bishops who have received it thanks to an uninterrupted chain from the apostles.

These men have taught nothing but the simple faith, which is also the true depth of the revelation of God. Thus, says Irenaeus, there is no secret doctrine behind the common creed of the Church. There is no superior Christianity for intellectuals. The faith publicly professed by the Church is the faith common to all. Only this faith is apostolic, coming from the apostles, that is, from Jesus and from God.

To adhere to this faith publicly taught by the apostles to their successors, Christians must observe what the bishops say. They must specifically consider the teaching of the Church of Rome, pre-eminent and ancient. This Church, because of its age, has the greatest apostolicity; in fact its origins come from the columns of the apostolic college, Peter and Paul. All the Churches must be in harmony with the Church of Rome, recognizing in it the measure of the true apostolic tradition and the only faith common to the Church.

With these arguments, very briefly summarized here, Irenaeus refutes the very foundation of the aims of the gnostics, of these intellectuals: First of all, they do not possess a truth that would be superior to the common faith, given that what they say is not of apostolic origin, but invented by them. Second, truth and salvation are not a privilege monopolized by a few, but something that everyone can reach through the preaching of the apostles' successors, and, above all, that of the Bishop of Rome.

By taking issue with the "secret" character of the gnostic tradition and by contesting its multiple intrinsic contradictions, Irenaeus concerns himself with illustrating the genuine concept of Apostolic Tradition, that we could summarize in three points.

a) The Apostolic Tradition is "public," not private or secret. For Irenaeus, there is no doubt that the content of the faith transmitted by the Church is that received from the apostles and from Jesus, the Son of God. There is no teaching aside from this. Therefore, for one who wishes to know the true doctrine, it is enough to know "the Tradition that comes from the Apostles and the faith announced to men": tradition and faith that "have reached us through the succession of bishops" ("Adv. Haer." 3,3,3-4). Thus, the succession of bishops, personal principle, Apostolic Tradition, and doctrinal principle all coincide.

b) The Apostolic Tradition is "one." While gnosticism is divided into many sects, the Church's Tradition is one in its fundamental contents, which -- as we have seen -- Irenaeus calls "regula fidei" or "veritatis." And given that it is one, it creates unity among peoples, different cultures and different communities. It has a common content like that of truth, despite different languages and cultures.

There is a beautiful expression that Irenaeus uses in the book "Against Heresies": "The Church, having received this preaching and this faith, although scattered throughout the whole world, yet, as if occupying but one house, carefully preserves it. She also believes these points (of doctrine) just as if she had but one soul, and one and the same heart, and she proclaims them, and teaches them, and hands them down, with perfect harmony, as if she possessed only one mouth. For, although the languages of the world are dissimilar, yet the import of the tradition is one and the same. For the Churches which have been planted in Germany do not believe or hand down anything different, nor do those in Spain, nor those in Gaul, nor those in the East, nor those in Egypt, nor those in Libya, nor those which have been established in the central regions of the world."

We can already see at this time -- we are in the year 200 -- the universality of the Church, its catholicity and the unifying force of truth, which unites these so-very-different realities, from Germany, to Spain, to Italy, to Egypt, to Libya, in the common truth revealed to us by Christ.

c) Finally, the Apostolic Tradition is, as he says in Greek, the language in which he wrote his book, "pneumatic," that is, spiritual, led by the Holy Spirit. In Greek, spirit is "pneuma." It is not a transmission entrusted to the abilities of more or less educated men, but the Spirit of God who guarantees faithfulness in the transmission of the faith.

This is the "life" of the Church, that which makes the Church always young, that is, fruitful with many charisms. Church and Spirit are inseparable for Irenaeus. This faith, we read in the third book of "Against Heresies," "which, having been received from the Church, we do preserve, and which always, by the Spirit of God, renewing its youth, as if it were some precious deposit in an excellent vessel, causes the vessel itself containing it to renew its youth also. … For where the Church is, there is the Spirit of God; and where the Spirit of God is, there is the Church, and every kind of grace" (3,24,1).

As we can see, Irenaeus does not stop at defining the concept of Tradition. His tradition, uninterrupted Tradition, is not traditionalism, because this Tradition is always internally vivified by the Holy Spirit, which makes it alive again, allows it to be interpreted and understood in the vitality of the Church.

According to his teaching, the Church's faith must be preached in such a way that it appears as it must appear, that is "public," "one," "pneumatic," "spiritual." From each of these characteristics, one can glean a fruitful discernment of the authentic transmission of the faith in the Church of today.

More generally, in the doctrine of Irenaeus, human dignity, body and soul, is firmly rooted in Divine Creation, in the image of Christ and in the permanent work of sanctification of the Spirit. This doctrine is like the "main road" to clarify to all people of good will, the object and the limits of dialogue on values, and to give an ever new impulse to the missionary activities of the Church, to the strength of truth which is the source of all the true values in the world.

[Translation by ZENIT]

[After the audience, Benedict XVI greeted visitors in various languages. In English, he said:]

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Continuing our catechesis on the Church Fathers, we turn now to Saint Irenaeus of Lyons, a great theologian and bishop at the end of the second century. In his writings, Irenaeus clearly sets forth the contents of the apostolic faith and appeals to the Church's living tradition in order to defend that faith from false teachings. He thus emphasizes the regula fidei: the "rule of faith" contained in the Apostles' Creed and in the Gospel proclaimed by the Church's Bishops. The Gospel Irenaeus preached was the Gospel preached by his teacher Polycarp, who in turn received it from the Apostle John in an unbroken line of succession going back to Christ himself. Irenaeus also writes of the unique authority of the Church of Rome as founded on the Apostles. This zealous pastor illustrates for us three important characteristics of the Apostolic Tradition: it is "public", because it is available to all through the teaching of the Bishops; it is "one", because its content remains the same despite the variety of languages and cultures; and it is "pneumatic", because, through it, the Holy Spirit continues to enliven and renew the Church even today.

I am pleased to welcome the many English-speaking pilgrims present. In a special way, I offer cordial greetings to the priests from the Institute for Continuing Theological Education and to the students of the NATO Defense College. Upon all of you I invoke God's blessings of peace and joy.

© Copyright 2007 -- Libreria Editrice Vaticana

José Ortega y Gasset

José Ortega y Gasset

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Thi manlynesse [L. humanitatem tuam] shewid to alle men

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Myles McDonnell's reply

In the end though, how many people care about the historical account of how equivocal uses of a word came about, and what those uses are? After all, naming is flexible, and a word can come to have as many meanings or definitions as the mind sees fit. Those who fail to recognize this may argue that naming must be purely univocal but it is an unreasonable demand.

(This is not to say that definitions for a specific thing are equally good--just that a name can be applied to different things, and it is not necessary for it to be applied to one thing only.)