Thursday, January 14, 2010

"Crux fidelis inter omnes"

We had a wonderful School of Community last night. We spent a good portion of our time together discussing this passage from Is It Possible to Live This Way?: An Unusual Approach to Christian Existence, Vol. 3 Charity:

"On Good Friday, we sing the hymn of the cross, Crux fidelis inter omnes, faithful cross, true tree among trees, tree that doesn't die. So, Jesus's sacrifice - which is the great value that saves the world from all its misery and from death - becomes our value if we participate in it, if we accept from Christ the method He establishes for making us participate in His sacrifice. For example, He sends me an illness, He makes me be treated unfairly, He disappoints me in love, He makes me sacrifice an affection" (pg. 74). The last phrase, I think, means to give up something I love. So, what is this method established by Christ for making me participate in His sacrifice? Suffering. I participate in Christ's sacrifice by making of my suffering an sacrifice. In conventional Catholic terms, "offering it up."

Just as there is a difference between something happening to you and truly experiencing it, there is a difference between suffering, which has no value, and sacrifice, which is the way suffering has a value. My suffering is redemptive insofar as I make of it an offering to God in union with Christ's perfect sacrifice. This is no proposal of passivity or fatalism. At least in the first instance, I am referring to unavoidable suffering, that which happens to me over which I have no control, or, as another put it last night, when I feel as though I am playing a role in someone else's movie. In order to offer my suffering to God in union with Christ's sacrifice, I have to make a judgment, a choice about how I will respond. Only by judging it can I understand what is happening and only by understanding it can I offer it. Otherwise, I just suffer, wondering why. I become passive and forgetful in the face of being.

This morning I awoke thinking of all this, thinking of the devastation being experienced by the people of Haiti, with these words of St. Paul in my mind:

"But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. So death is at work in us, but life in you" (2 Cor. 4:7-12).

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Haitian earthquake relief

"1117 Troy Livesay tweets:'Church groups are singing throughout the city all through the night in prayer. It is a beautiful sound in the middle of a horrible tragedy'" BBC News.

Photo BBC News


Today we need to pray for the people of Haiti and look for other ways to help them. So, please consider making a donation to the Red Cross, UNICEF, Catholic Relief Services, or any other reputable aid organization that is helping with search and recovery operations as well as feeding and sheltering the displaced. Estimates indicate that thousands are dead. Times like this call forth solidarity.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Personal and philosophical ruminations for a Tuesday

Life unfolds. The previous sentence is an apt metaphor. As life unfolds I gradually become aware how much choices have consequences. The consequences I am referring to are unintended. I do not bring this up in order to make some quaint and wholly inaccurate point about how when we make the "right" choices the consequences we desire happen and vice-versa. In fact, the older I get the more I realize that for every right choice I make there is a price to pay. Because of Christ I can say- "So be it." My reason for writing about this at all is to point out that we have to make choices, that is, judgments and, in most instances, there is nothing inherent about the choice, certainly not the ones to which I am referring, that would preclude certain things happening.

The particular choice about which I am writing is the choice to write. To write publicly is to take a tremendous risk. To write in a straight forward manner in my chosen genre (i.e., uncreative non-fiction) is even riskier. By and large people do not like to be provoked and challenged. Rather, we like to be stroked and reassured. Hence, especially in this day and age, we tend to read to people and sources that we know up-front share our point-of-view. This simple fact plays a large role in our political and civil division/alienation. In politics it takes the form of red states and blue states. It also takes the form of congressional, legislative districts being drawn so as to virtually assure that one or the other party holds the seat.

The essence of what I am trying to communicate is not political, though it does have to do with not mindlessly toeing the party line regardless of the party. In many circles it is not fashionable to have an opinion other than the predominant one, which is never to be challenged, even when it is an ill-considered line, a reactive and ideological line, which is not unknown even in the church. Getting to my point, I have never played that way. It started to occur to me late last year the price I have paid for this is quite high. I would like to blame being corrupted not just by Philosophy and by logic in particular, but my attraction toward both was very much the result of who I am. This brings me to the status I posted on my Facebook profile, one that is easily reduced and misunderstood. I wrote: "realized driving home from work that very few of things I worry about matter. I have to have one of those moments once in awhile." This occurred me to because I spend too much time worrying about consequences, making judgments on the basis of bullshit calculations. To be truly alive is to take the risk of engaging reality according to the totality of its factors, which means making judgments.

It has been wonderfully consoling to start reading my dear W once again, not only Ray Monk's truly brilliant little book How To Read Wittgenstein, but the Tractatus Logico Philosophicus itself. While this breathtakingly bold book was proved by Frank Ramsey not to have solved all the problems of philosophy, a proof that forced W to re-think many of its aspects, in it he set forth a way of looking at the world that is not just accurate, but, indeed, beautiful. Like many I do not see a big break between the early thought of W, which culminated in the Tractatus, after the publication of which he left academia believing he had solved all the philosophical problems and went on to teach elementary school, and his later thought. I think the basic issues he introduced in the Tractatus remained the focus of his later thinking. For example, I do not believe W ever conceived of Philosophy very different from how he defined it in the Tractatus:

"Philosophy aims at the logical clarification of thoughts.

Philosophy is not a body of doctrine but an activity.

A philosophical work consists essentially of elucidations.

Philosophy does not result in 'philosophical propositions', but rather in the clarification of propositions.

Without philosophy thoughts are, as it were, cloudy and indistinct: its task is to make them clear and give them sharp boundaries" (4.112).

At the end of the day we have to explore the relationship between thought and and reality. Therefore, not language, but the logic that underlies language becomes the major focus. Take this bit from the Catechism: "Since our knowledge of God is limited, our language about him is equally so" (par. 40). We can turn this around and say that our knowledge of God is limited because our language is limited. Either way, there is no dispute about the fact that "God transcends all creatures. We must therefore continually purify our language of everything in it that is limited, imagebound or imperfect, if we are not to confuse our image of God... with our human representations. Our human words always fall short of the mystery of God" (par. 42).

In my re-reading of W's Tractatus I also re-read Russell's introduction. I had forgotten what a fitting and insightful introduction it is. Towards the end of his discussion of the role mysticism plays in W's early philosophy (mysticism being the sum total of what W refers to in 7 of the Tractatus- "What we cannot speak about we must pass over in silence") Russell observes that W's attitude towards the mystical "grows naturally out of his doctrine in pure logic, according to which the logical proposition is a picture (true or false) of the fact, and has in common with the fact a certain structure which makes it capable of being a picture of the fact, but the structure cannot itself be put into words, since it is a structure of words, as well as of facts to which they refer." The mystical for W is that which can be shown and not spoken, but to show is the most convincing proof.

What Russell observes with regard to the Tractatus, I think, holds in W's later thought and writing, namely that we can "only say things about the world as a whole if we could exist outside the world, if, that is to say, it ceased to be for us the whole world. Our world may be bounded for some superior being who can survey it from above," as it were, "but for us, however finite it may be, it cannot have a boundary, since nothing is outside it." In his early phase as expressed in the Tractatus, W encountered in solipsism a particularly difficult problem, as Russell points out, for W "[t]hat the world is my world appears in the fact that the boundaries of language (the only language I understand) indicate the boundaries of my world. The metaphysical subject does not belong to the world but is a boundary of the world."

All of this brings me to the obvious complementarity between W's philosophical insights, the ones he had early on and only worked to develop, not the ones he discarded, and Giussani's method. Take the last sentence I quoted from Russell's introduction to the Tractatus describing W's take on being human: "The metaphysical subject does not belong to the world but is a boundary of the world" and what Giussani says in Is It Possible to Live This Way, Vol. 3 "the 'I' lies at the crossroads between the relationship with the mystery" (i.e., that which W asserts we must pass over in silence) "and the relationship with nothing" (pg. 62). Giussani's insistence that the fact of the Incarnation, which is a fact in the world, is the only appropriate starting point for Christian praxis, for living this way, is also in accord with engaging reality according to the totality of its factors (i.e., the world as it is and not as I wish it to be) is also of paramount importance for Giussani's method.

In the Tractatus W wrote that a) "[t]he world is the totality of facts, not of things," which means that relations constitute the structure of the world; only the relations of things to other things (to strike a Pythonesque tone) constitute facts (1.1); b) "[t]he world is determined by the facts, and by their being all the facts" (1.11); c) "[f]or the totality of facts determines what is the case, and also whatever is not the case" (1.12). Perhaps most foundational to Giussani's method is the uniquely Christian insistence that God became incarnate in Jesus. This is a fact, an event that is the case, something that really happened. It is only by virtue of this fact that we overcome the problem of being bounded by the world, by the limits of our language. Further, living this way is how we show instead of just say, that is why experience always trumps discourse and also why talking about experience clarifies it for us, which is the point of School of Community, where we come to use accurate language to describe experience not just in light of the fact the Incarnation, but in light of the fact of my encounter. This why Fr.Carrón spent time correcting us in our sloppy use of the word correspondence at La Thuile, published as Experience: The Instrument for a Human Journey.

The priority of showing over speaking for the Christian is set forth beautifully in the 1 John 4:7-12: "Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God. Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love. In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God abides in us and his love is perfected in us" (emboldening and underlining emphasis mine).

Think about this: the only way God is seen is through how those who, because they are first loved, in turn, love. As the Holy Father pointed out in Deus Caritas Est, in our time "the term 'love' has become one of the most frequently used and misused of words, a word to which we attach quite different meanings" (par. 2). Love is only known by means of a fact: "that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins." So, like Philosophy, Christianity, at least in the first instance, "is not a body of doctrine but an activity," one that flows from an event that becomes an encounter.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Some wise and timely comments by the other Hitchens

Peter Hitchens, the conservative and devoutly Christian brother of Christopher, wrote something in his most recent Daily Mail column that moved me deeply. He was commenting about how he and about 100 other people stand along the roadside with their hands over their hearts as the remains of Great Britain’s war dead pass by in Oxfordshire near the town of Oxford where he resides. Writing about those who gather to honor their country’s fallen, Hitchens avers: “We feel, in short, that a country where nobody could be bothered to stand by the roadside for its dead soldiers wouldn’t be worth living in.”

He lauds one Abdul Latif and his wife, immigrant Muslim citizens of the U.K., who also have begun standing and honoring those who gave the full measure. These people stand in contrast to Islamo-Fascist rabble rousers, at whom Pope Benedict XVI courageously took aim in his famous in Regensburg address, many of whom express joy at the death of U.K. military members. Of those, like Mr. & Mrs. Latif, he writes they are as likely "as sick" as he is of Britain's "swear-word and sex culture, and that they understand that courage is the greatest of all the virtues – because none of the others is worth anything without it." Of their own courageous gesture, Hitchens rightly observes that it "is a reminder to us that there is an alternative to multiculturalism and decay." All of this is made more worthy of comment by the fact that Mr. Hitchens, as a conservative, opposes his country's on-going involvement in both Iraq and Afghanistan.

The Baptism of the Lord



The season of Christmas comes to an end today with our observance of the Baptism of the Lord


"After all the people had been baptized and Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, heaven was opened and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, 'You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased' " (Luke 3:21-22).

Saturday, January 9, 2010

Wittgenstein on ethics

When I was just beginning graduate studies in Philosophy, which I did not complete, one professor, a well known ethicist, a great person, and talented teacher told me that based on my senior thesis I should pursue the study of ethics. I said in that quasi-arrogant manner of the budding grad student that I would not study ethics because to do so would be to pretend that the more fundamental problems of philosophy, particularly those posed in epistemology and logic, the latter of which is in the realm of metaphysics. I still stand by this statement, at least as it pertains to philosophical ethics, but I do so with far more humility. This conviction is the direct result of reading Wittgenstein.

In what is proving to be his fine introduction to W's thought, How To Read Wittgenstein, Ray Monk, citing a letter Wittgenstein wrote to Ludwig von Ficker immediately following his service of behalf of the Austro-Hungarian Empire during WWI, writes that before the war W believed himself to be writing a work of logic, whereas after his service and being taken prisoner-of-war he thought his work to be one on ethics. Ficker was on of three people to whom Wittgenstein sent copies of his completed work, later given the title by G.E. Moore Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, which was to remain the only book published during his lifetime, along with Gottlob Frege and Bertrand Russell. Ficker was a publisher who W did not expect to understand the book. However, it was a disappointment to W that, in the end, Frege, the mathematician on whose work much of W's logical excursions was built, did not "get" it.

In the Tractatus itself W writes this about ethics:

"The first thought in setting up an ethical law of the form 'thou shalt . . .' is: And what if I do not do it? But it is clear that ethics has nothing to do with punishment and reward in the ordinary sense. This question as to the consequences of an action must therefore be irrelevant. At least thse consequences will not be events. For there must be something right in that formulation of the qustion. There must be some sort of ethical reward and ethical punishment, but this must lie in the action itself.

(And this is clear also that the reward must be something acceptable, and the punishment something unacceptable)" (6.422).

That the consequences of an action do not take the form of an event apart from the act itself is consonant with the objective character of classical Catholic morality, especially with the axiom that we may never do evil that good may come of it, or, stated another way, ends do not justify means. I would love to explore this connection more deeply.

Friday, January 8, 2010

Wittgenstein revisited

Ray Monk, who is a professor of philosophy at the University of Southampton in England, published How To Read Wittgenstein back in 2005. I remember wanting to read it at the time because introductory books on W's thought are fairly rare and difficult to write because his thought is quite complex. I am hoping that Monk's is good as I just purchased it. Of course, Monk wrote what is the standard biography of Wittgenstein, a brilliant book in its own right: Ludwig Wittgenstein: The Duty of Genius.

I remember The Duty of Genius because I received it as a gift from my lovely wife the very first Christmas we were married. As student newlyweds we had no money and decided that we would buy each other presents costing no more than $20.00. When she asked me what I wanted it was an easy call. I read the book over Christmas break along with some essays by Alvin Plantinga. For anyone who wishes to immerse her/himself in Wittgenstein, I would recommend The Duty of Genius.

As I am just perusing How To Read Wittgenstein I can write that if the back cover is any indication, it will prove to be a worthwhile introduction to thought of my dear W:
"Though Wittgenstein wrote on the same subjects that dominate the work of other analytic philosophers - the nature of logic, the limits of language, the analysis of meaning - he did so in a peculiarly poetic style that separates his work sharply from that of his peers and makes the question of how to read him particularly pertinent.

"At the root of Wittgenstein's thought, Ray Monk argues, is a determination to resist the scientism characteristic of our age, a determination to insist on the integrity and the autonomy of nonscientific forms of understanding. The kind of understanding we seek in philosophy, Wittgenstein tried to make clear, is similar to the kind we might seek of a person, a piece of music, or, indeed, of a poem."

Another great book on W's thought, especially as it bears on theology, is Fergus Kerr's Theology After Wittgenstein. In 2010 I am once again seeking the consolation of philosophy, which, as W pointed out, is therapeutic in its own right.

Tragedy challenges God's love

No sooner did I finish my reflection on this week's second reading from Romans chapter 8 about the all-encompassing nature of God's...