Who’s Charles Spurgeon?

Share/Bookmark

I did hear her speak once.  When I was at the Claremont Graduate School she gave a lecture. I have to admit that I didn’t understand what she was railing about. I remember that she just seemed “angry”. She used lots of post-modern-y words that were well beyond my Thomistic-Aristotelian mindset and vocabulary.

The place was packed, though. At least 500 or 600 hundred people. Maybe more. Some people were quite upset with what she was saying; others cheered her on. She seemed angry, yes, but also unfazed and completely at ease with herself. When? This must have been around 1993 or 1994.

Blogger Julian Real has a very thoughtful remembrance of Daly on her site, A Radical Profeminist. And another from the glbtq Encyclopedia. The NY Times obit is here which begins:

Radical feminist Mary Daly, the iconoclastic theologian who proclaimed, ”I hate the Bible,” and retired from Boston College rather than allow men to take her classes, has died. She was 81.

Here’s a photo of Daly on the Boston University website’s “Gallery of religious thinkers and figures“. Quite an astounding assembly!

Share/Bookmark

My other Schillebeeckx connection comes from my dear friend, Fr. Joe Powers, S.J., who did his dissertation under Schillebeeckx. I couldn’t believe it when Fr. Joe told me that! To me Schillebeeckx had been this remote, almost Biblical prophet and here was someone who actually knew the man. I was impressed! I realized years later that Schillebeeckx wasn’t a name to trot out in every Catholic setting. He and Hans Kung had been grilled by the Vatican. Kung was “disciplined”, read “muzzled”, by the church for his views; Schillebeeckx escaped condemnation. The Language of Dissent: Edward Schillebeeckx on the Crisis of Authority in the Catholic Church gives an good overview of Schillebeeckx’s views on dissent within the Church.

This excerpt  from the National Catholic Observer:

The Belgian-born Dutch Dominican theologian, Edward Schillebeeckx, died Dec. 23 at the age of 95 in Nijmegen, where he lived and taught for more than five decades. He wrote well into his nineties.

He died of natural causes.

Fr. Robert Schreiter of the Congregation of the Precious Blood, considered the leading U.S. expert on Schillebeeckx, said his legacy will live on, principally for several major contributions. He was the first Catholic scholar to take seriously all the historical research on Jesus that had been done in the 19th and 20th centuries and present it in an intelligible way.

“Anyone who ignores that will not be taken seriously today,” said Schreiter, a professor of theology at the Chicago theological union. Schillebeeckx also pioneered the idea of examining “the historical backgrounds of what seemed to be infallible truths and relating their real meaning” in an intelligible way, he said. “He insisted that normal people ought to be able to see a measure of reasonableness in Catholic teaching and be able to link their experiences with the revelation traditions of the Christian faith.”

Share/Bookmark

Andrei Sheptyts’kyi (1865–1944) the Ukrainian metropolitan of the Greek Catholic Church, did all of these things. (Greek Catholics accept the authority of the pope, but practice a liturgy much like that of the Orthodox.) He wrote a letter to Himmler asking him to stop using Ukrainian policemen to murder Jews. He issued pastoral letters urging his people, the Greek Catholics of western Ukraine, to love their Jewish neighbors rather than serve in the police formations that were killing them.

Yet he also  “welcomed the German invasion of the Soviet Union. In 1943, he sent Greek Catholic chaplains to accompany the Ukrainian soldiers of the Waffen-SS Division Galizien.” The blog article goes on to make clear that these decisions aren’t so difficult to explain given the historical context before WWII. Still, reading this entry alongside a biography of Dietrich Bonhoeffer is eye opening. There are reasons behind our choices (not all the time, but a lot of the time). How do we weigh the options we have? What if those “options” are barely options at all?

Share/Bookmark

What caught my eye, of course, was the reference to Aristotle and Thomistic thought. (Disclaimer: When I first studied Aristotle it was in conjunction with Thomistic thought. I’m in no way an enemy of Thomist thought, per se.) But as I continued to read, I saw the challenge emerge: do we rest on reason and our intellect? Or do we depend on our moral inclinations? It’s my old “faith versus reason” thing.

This puts the question poorly, I admit. I can tell I’m sputtering here. Let’s just say that I mostly disagree with Justice Scalia’s decisions. But I really admire his method of reasoning. It’s the reason why I do love Thomistic thought. The brilliance of the logical arguments: clear (no really!), elegant, architectonic. One may acknowledge the validity of an argument without conceding that it is a sound argument.

If one were to argue from George’s first principles, everything seems to follow quite smoothly. But I uncomfortable with George’s conclusions. As some of you know, I’m an ardent defender of human dignity, yet I am pro-choice. I’ve acknowledged the mine field and I’m still struggling to reconcile my views with my arguments.

George draws a distinction between Aristotle and Hume: Aristotle, he says, has human reason that can see an objective moral order. For Hume, on the other hand, reason is the slave of the passions. That is, the universe has facts, not values.  (I think George misreads Aristotle here, but I understand what he’s trying to say. The Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics doesn’t strike me as an argument for the existence of an objective moral order in the way in which George proposes. But that’s for another blog.)

What follows from this divided is fascinating! George thinks if we follow the Aristotelian route we get the reason and free choice or free will. If we’re Humeans (which he thinks American liberals are), we have amorality and determinism!

Whoa! Dude!

The argument is that because there is no objective reason to do X or ~X, I’m under the command of some genetic, pre-determined causal force or inclination. I’m a slave to my passions, not my reason. My reason ought to provide me with a rational decision based not on a kind of cold, hard, unfeeling facts, but upon genuine moral principles. Those principles are rational principles. It’s very Platonic (as the article alludes): our rational minds can access the Form of the Good. We can know right from wrong. We can know the eternal Truth by properly using our minds.

But on the Humean side, since we can’t find any objective principles in nature, we’re left with whim and taste, on the one side, and a genetic predisposition or a bump on the head, on the other. It’s the latter that has me a bit stumped.

Aristotelians, like St. Thomas Aquinas, hold that there is an objective moral order. Human reason can see it. And we have the free will to follow or not. “In a well-ordered soul, reason’s got the whip hand over emotion,” George told the seminar, in a favorite formulation borrowed from Plato. Humeans — and in George’s view, modern liberals are usually Humeans — disagree. Against Aristotle, Hume argued that the universe includes facts but not values. You cannot derive moral conclusions from studying the world, an “ought” from an “is.” There is no built-in, objective reason for me to choose one goal over another — the goals of Mother Teresa over the goals of Adolf Hitler, in George’s hypothetical. Reason, then, is merely a tool of whatever desire strikes my fancy. “Reason is and ought only to be the slave of the passions and may pretend to no office other than to serve and obey them,” George said, paraphrasing Hume, just as he does in seemingly every essay or lecture he writes.

In George’s view, if I have no rational basis for picking one goal over another, then I have no free choice, only predetermined “passions” — the result of genetics, a blow to the head, whatever made me prefer either curing the sick or killing the Jews. We have reason and free choice, he teaches, or we have amorality and determinism.

I can see how one might charge the moral or cultural relativist with being a Humean. You don’t have any real (Platonic) reason for being against female genital mutilation. There are no rationally obtainable principles or reasons that stand as premises for your argument against this practice. You would simply “feel in your gut” (I guess) or you’d have some other moral rules that help you reach your conclusion. But your “moral grounds” aren’t objectively rational. Since they are drawn from your likes and dislikes. And those likes and dislike have the source in our genes (?). Hence, these decisions derive from a kind of determinism.

Again, what struck me is this conflict between the moral standard of Clifford — “Give me reasons, or give me death!” sort of view, and what your personal moral conclusions are. Our options appear to be as follows: Can you be moral without God? Can you be moral without “reasons”? Can you be moral with a non-rational dependence on God? (I take it that being immoral or amoral really isn’t an option!)

George’s view seems to be that God (or religion) is intimately connected with reason. Basically, God and morality are completely compatible with and are accessible through human reason. What human reason achieves is God’s truth. A Gator may not realize this, but that’s just the way it is. I take it that George thinks that the atheists and non-theists don’t reach (or can’t reach) Truth because they don’t use reason. But where’s my third and fourth prong?  Can’t you be moral without being “religious”? Can’t you use reason and not reach what are in effect “religious first principles”, but just rational principles? George thinks the latter is nonsense. Conservative Catholic belief simple echoes those genuine first principles and is in perfect alignment with them. The truth, then, simply is “religious”. Or, the “religious” simply is the truth.

Share/Bookmark

There is a collective dimension to this: all the early Christians experienced the same thing. Like alien abductees, the first Christians had a shattering experience in common. This brought them together. But this experience was not an institution.” – Paul Zahl, Grace in Practice: A Theology of Everyday Life.

Watch Zahl speak about this book:

Share/Bookmark

Share/Bookmark