Flos Carmeli

Said Far Better Than

Said Far Better Than I Could Hope To

Once again Mark at Minute Particulars states precisely what is on my mind more eloquently and more succinctly than I could ever hope to. (Let's face it, I am poet and a writer of fiction--nonfiction is a real labor, and my generous readers have probably noted it). Please go here and read this eloquent, cogent, courteous, and thoughtful review of the subject. Less impassioned and more persuasive.

(You may have to go to the first link and scroll down to "You Can't Be Any Poorer than Dead.")

Thank you, Mark for stating so clearly what I have tried to say without much success.

Prayers of the Faithful It

Prayers of the Faithful

It occurs to me, with overwhelming consolation, that perhaps it is the prayers of the faithful that curtailed what could have been an extremely long and hideous conflict. It is not over yet. Prayers do not cease. Nevertheless, I cannot help but feel that we would not be even where we are had not so many been praying so hard for peace. Praise God in His eternal Mercy. His Love endures forever.

Death and Materialism In several

Death and Materialism

In several places in St. Blogs, notably Disputations and Kairos, I have seen the argument that death is not the greatest evil, that there are indeed worse things in life. And I generally concur. But the argument is made with such force in defense of the indefensible (the taking of innocent life in the course of war) that I feel it must be countered.

Death is not the worst thing in the world. But I am glad for the creeping materialism that suggests perhaps it is. Death is a great natural evil that marks our fall. Before death, we were in constant communication with God throughout life; by death, we know that that door was (more or less) closed. I believe that some Saints may come close to attaining that state while living, but most ordinary folk only have momentary glimpses of it.

Believing that death is the worst thing that can happen puts the breaks on attitudes such as "Kill them all and let God sort them out." If death is not the worst thing, what then would be wrong with taking everyone out?

Further, my death is not the worst thing in the world. But as I've said elsewhere, for anyone who has lost someone near and dear, they know at a level beyond the intellect that it is indeed one of the worst things that will happen in the course of their lives. I remember my poor grandmother who after the death of a son a year earlier, stood over my mother's coffin and cried out loud, "It isn't supposed to be this way. Parents are not supposed to bury their children." This is a woman steeped in the Bible and certainly one of God's friends, and yet, at that moment, death did not seem to have such a light hand.

Jesus himself wept for Lazarus and sweated blood over his own impending death. He didn't advise us all to see to it that life ended as soon as possible. He did not tell us to advise widows to commit suttee and to offer up orphans. He provided additional wine at Cana and obviously saw life as a great good and death as something not to be feared, but not to be embraced.

Death is not the worst possible thing. On that I can agree. But I see little harm in the vast majority of humanity keeping in mind how much it hurts to be left behind, and how it can be the worst possible thing for some time in one's life. Perhaps be so remembering we will be less prone to enter easily into war, less prone to allow people in lands far from our own to starve, less prone to support abortion and other heinous practices. Perhaps if we really did believe that the death of an innocent life were truly the worst possible evil we could ameliorate some of the other tremendous evils that stalk the world today. If we could agree that life is precious, good, and to be preserved with all due diligence (but not necessarily with extraordinary means) we might cultivate a caring that is deeper than we presently have.

I can say that the attitude that death is not the worst thing does support a great many things that most of us would otherwise not countenance. I also point out that it is an argument from intellect, our emotions and our very flesh tells us otherwise. But phrases like this, " Death is not bad; it simply is" (Kairos Guy), I find terrifying in the hands of tyrants. It echoes too many callous words throughout the ages. It reminds me of the quote (was it Count Mirabeau?) in the French Revolution, "To make omelets one must crack a few eggs."

Kairos Guy is right, but the phrase in the wrong hands leads to depredation and horror beyond imaging. I'm sure that Adolf Hitler did not think that other people's deaths were particularly bad, the just were. Without a proper Christian background (which Kairos stipulates in his argument) the phrase is botulinum and worse. Better to let the materialists and even those of us who are profoundly Christian to continue in our attitude that death, while not the worst possible thing, is certainly a thing to be avoided, both for ourselves, for those we love, and for all people of good will throughout the Earth.

Mr. da Fiesole, Revisited Yet

Mr. da Fiesole, Revisited Yet Again

Amidst much interesting discussion chez lui, I encountered the following proposition:
"I'm trying to insist that, for a morally upright person, what can be done is identical to what may be done."

To which I responded in several modes, and thus I delineate more clearly here my response. For the upright person they cannot be identical because it suggest to my mind complete will-lessness. Now, our wills should be united to God, but that should take the form not of recognize CAN and MAY as identical, but as recognizing and rejecting CAN. This is something that it is possible for me to do, but which I will not to do because I MAY not do it according to God. When CAN becomes MAY we are not necessarily upright, but just possibly crippled in mind, body, or will.

Perhaps the great saints implied that what one can do is identical to what one may do for the righteous. But I suspect not--it smacks paradoxically of both Calvinism and Quietism. No, the world of potential is open to the upright person, the choice is made, moment by moment not to do what is within his or her ability--that is what makes him or her morally upright.

Later: I thought of the proper phrasing of my disagreemnt. When CAN and MAY are identical, we have innocence (which is a form of uprightness, but not one that everyone can aspire to, nor the only form).

Dubito, ergo Cogito, ergo Sum

Dubito, ergo Cogito, ergo Sum

An excellent preface for a small attempt to articulate why I am deeply suspicious of some aspects of "reasoning." Descartes statement is one of the great philosophical errors of modern time--an error that stems from asking the wrong question to start with. Other errors stem from other causes. In fact, reason can prove just about any absurd proposition you choose.

The problem with sola rationis even under inspiration is that unless every argument begins from first principles that are mutually agreed upon or upon revelation, the meaning of which is completed agreed upon, they are based upon prior arguments, definitions, or axioms which must be demonstrated conclusively before the argument can begin to be coherent. This is not a sufficient problem to explain my difficulties, but it is a beginning. For example, how do we agree upon revelation. There are some who read both Genesis and Jonah literally, even within the Catholic Church, even given the Church's guidelines for interpreting scripture. Their sense of revelation is likely to differ from those who do not so read scripture. To take an example from a recent discussion, Kairos insisted that one of the commandments should be read, "Thou shalt not murder." Every translation I have read, including some great rabbinical translations say, "Thou shalt not kill." Right away we are faced with a disagreement even in the definitions and axioms of the system.

Does this mean reason should be abandoned? Definitively not. But it also casts into doubt what can be derived therefrom. Further, Godel's theorem, applicable technically only to number theory, but nearly axiomatic in most philosophical circles, tells us that within any closed system their are proposals and theorems that can be advanced that cannot be proven with the instruments, axioms, theorems, and definitions of the system. A broader, somewhat inaccurate translation of this into philosophical terms is that there is a limit to what can be known within any system. Now, perhaps reason takes us to that limit and faith makes the leap into the secondary or tertiary or quaternary system, or perhaps reason leads us away from the boundaries of the system and simply muddles our thinking with considerations that we have it all right.

As we are all aware, statistics, which, I suppose are "facts" of a sort--a quantitative, if biased representation of some small segment of reality, can be manipulated in any number of ways to subvert reality. Probably most importantly, the phrasing of the question is the most critically important datum. For example, if you ask most Americans if they support abortion on demand up to the point of birth, the vast majority are likely to say no. If your approach is to ask if abortion should never be allowed under any circumstance, the majority will say no again. The truth is somewhere in between, and rarely sought by those who ask the question.

To take an old, proven, and accepted argument, when John da Fiesole presents an axiomatic system that says "God frowns as greatly upon the death of one as He does upon the deaths of millions," and shows proof of this, I understand the proof, and I even believe the proof. On the other hand, what kind of God, I ask myself, am I worshipping who allows the continued slaughter of millions by the interdiction of the death of one? While it is not good to think about God fashioning a squad of hit men, neither is it salutary to consider a God who sits back and allows the chaos that we see in many countries and forbids the obvious remedy. You cannot look at the sheer logic and not ask the question, "God would prefer the deaths of millions to the death of one?" Now the answer is that He would prefer no deaths--but what is the reality?

Thus, when I claim to eschew or doubt reason--perhaps it is not so much reason as the further implications of following that chain to its logical conclusion. If God forbids the removal of the one, then He approves the slaughter of the millions. You cannot have Him disapproving both because if He did so, the slaughter obviously would not occur. Now, recast the argument and assume that the person committing the murder of millions is in fact "above the law," by the definition that He is the law, and yet He has committed what must be considered Capital crimes as he has no intention of stopping. He cannot be brought to trial because he is the law. Is it permissible then in a body of peers to try him and to find him guilty and so sentence? My intuition here is that Mr. da Fiesole would argue this also would be illicit because it predicates a solution upon a (pardon the pun) ex-lex solution.

But let us ask the question--if the God who commissions hit men is deplorable and awful, what must one say of the God who allows genocide? Does He allow it? Could it happen if He did not? Does He approve it? Probably not. Then what remedies does He allow? The most efficacious is, of course, the Death of His Son. The second is prayer. The third is to point out that life on this world is but a brief visit with bliss to follow. And yet does that mean that everything in this world must be misery and punishment for those who visit? Did God not make all things good?

Reason proposes no real solution to these dilemma. It outlines what is not permissible. But I venture to guess that one can use a different axiomatic system (such as my suggestion of an ex-lex trial) and come to a different conclusion about what is acceptable. Revelation answers some of these problems, and communion with God yet others.

Hence when I say I eschew reason or logic--it is not the principle but the conclusions one must draw if the reasoning is correct. If we are not to sin in the case of a mass murderer, we must neither murder him nor assist him in his murders through our inaction if it is within our power to stop him. So long as we do not resist, we sin. When we reach the point of murder, we sin. The solution is not in reason but in prayer and in the communion with God through His Holy Spirit.

Thus, rejection of "reason" isn't abandonment of method so often as it is rejection of the conclusion that one must reach if one follows the thought to the end of the line. Reason is a trustworthy vehicle only inasmuch as the founding principles are firm and the chain of thought linking them to the conclusion as firm and not salted with additional propositions that come to us unproven.

Reason is a valuable implement, but it is neither the most valuable, nor is it necessarily the most reliable as it is too subject to our own whims and rationalizations.

All this said, I mean neither personal offense, and I hope I have not in any way intimated that I believe Mr. da Fiesole to be anything other than a fellow-traveler struggling with the same dilemmas, problems, and frustrations that beset all of us. Nor do I wish to intimate that he has been unconvincing in any of his arguments on this point. I readily admit that I accept them all. But I also find the implications of the arguments very, very disturbing and unavoidable. This isn't really about Mr. da Fiesole, but it is an attempt to refine what I meant by some of the hyperbole of a few days ago. I hope I have articulated it sufficiently to be clear and to make clear why, as much as I enjoy the refined pleasures of a well-cast argument, I distrust them as well. I will endeavor not to eschew them, however.

Mimsiness Under Different Systemas of Analysis

While both Disputations and Minute Particulars hail a "lost" text of Aquinas, the excerpts published show that the work was at least familiar to a student of Wittgenstein's, and his analysis (a darling of the PoMo crowd) is indubitably the most forthright exposition of the logical schema of the core of Wittgensteinian paradigmata. Go and see.

From Minute Particulars I liked

From Minute Particulars

I liked the post the post with the deeply mysterious title, "BLAMBO FORSTINE INBLIMS ABADABA." This may mean more to others than to me. But I did wish to respond to one point:

I can't help but wonder if he's not implying a contradiction between reason and faith or even heart and mind. Regardless, this kind of approach creates cracks in the notion that truth is one, a unity that arises from existence itself, and it's an approach that will eventually contradict itself.

No, what he really is implying is that he speaks in hyperbole and leaps before he looks. My "reasoning" method is intuitive--leaping to a conclusion and then (sometimes) looking for linkages back. That is why it is so nice to have such as John da Fiesole to point out to me the errors of some of those leaps. I must retract the statements in question and say, that I understand the reasoning--but that understanding strands me in the quandary outlined below. So overall, it would be far more comfortable to do as I said I would do, because it allows me some solace, some escape from the tyrrany of conscience that cannot see where my involvement stops.

By the way, Mark, what does the title mean?

Another Quiz I don't remember

Another Quiz

I don't remember where I found this, but I liked the result:

Numenorean


To which race of Middle Earth do you belong?
brought to you by Quizilla

A Public Confession Kathy the

A Public Confession

Kathy the Carmelite writes at Disputations:

In Comments at Disputations

How about obey the Pope by praying and fasting, offering up all of our interior angst to the Lord to use as He sees fit? Such angst as most Catholics feel would be quite a powerhouse IF MORE PEOPLE BOTHERED TO OFFER IT UP.

Humanitarian aid contributions or other support are good, too (taking in refugees, etc.). Even if your contributions are not applicable directly to this Iraqi conflict, in God's economy what goes around comes around, so to speak; so your heartfelt gift will be applied by God as needed.

And I respond:

If it is only interior Angst, then it may be offered up. But if I have sinned, it must be confessed, and each time repeated--confessed again.

With each innocent life taken, I am complicit either by not actively opposing or by tacitly approving. I sin in the death of innocents. I sin in doing nothing to prevent that death. What is there in this to be offered up? All there is is confession and constant knowledge of the fact that I am responsible. That isn't angst--that is a wedge separating me from God--a sense that no amount of confession can undo it because I sin both in doing and in inaction. Every person who dies weighs on my conscience, on my soul, is my personal responsibility either because I did not pray the way I should, I did not speak up when I should, I did not do whatever it was that I should have done.

This is not mere angst, this is a crime against God and my conscience sits as constant judge upon it. (Unless of course I'm deeply immersed in other work or in sleep--the only time I am not praying for some enlightenment, some sense that I have not completely cut the bond that unites me to God.) And yet I know that I have not done what should be done. You can only offer up what is not sin--sin is not an offering--it is a matter of confession and until confessed impedes any clear communication.

Hence, "They all cry, 'Peace, Peace,' but there is no peace." I suppose you could say that I am overwhelmed with my sense of responsibility, indirect though it is, in all of this. I could take no position for or against, and still cannot, and so I am all the more responsible for lack of clarity.

The only hope is the infinite mercy of God and the hope that this will soon end, and perhaps end my complicity. And then, what is my responsibility in other regimes, other areas of the world? I do not like the cast of the questions this dredges up. Where does my personal responsbility end--how can I cut off my sense of sin in this, and should I? I want to be realistic about what I expect of myself, but as I spent all of my time trying to figure out the truth of what is right in this case, I feel doubly responsible. Where does individual responsibility end, or does it? This may be why the Saints were so aware of their own sinfulness, knowing how much they could have done to help others and failed to do, for whatever reason.

An Elegant Argument, but. .

An Elegant Argument, but. . .

Mr. da Fiesole produces an elegant, eloquent, and ultimately convincing and True argument against some comments made here Saturday. And while I find the argument truthful and ultimately correct, I also find it curiously lacking in any suggestion of implementation. When educating, arguing, and persuading, one must not be merely correct, but one must also suggest a plan of action along the lines of the argument that would lead one closer to the truth. I have asked Mr. da Fiesole for a suggestion of such a plan. One who wishes to engage in apologetics and reasoned argumentation cannot afford to be inconsiderate of the consequences and necessities of the argument.

A Pertinent Passage of St. John of the Cross

May be found at Our Lady of Loretto Carmelite Chapel. (You'll have to scroll down for it). In it, St. John of the Cross traces the way of the discipline of detachment, something even those long in Carmel have great difficulty with. But Evelyn Underhill notes the following points concerning the mystics. "In an experience which often transcended all their powers of expression, they realized God as an abiding Fact, a living Presence and Love; and by this their whole existence was transformed. And this happened to them, not because He loved and attended to them more than He does to us; but because they loved and attended to Him more than we do."

And frankly, I'm tired of my own recalcitrance. It is time and long past that He should have His due from me; time to mortify the flesh and bring it into line with His will; time to become the saint He would have me be; time to realize or perhaps here the word is reify life in God. Otherwise all is wasted and worthless.

Apologia for Pacifism I liked

Apologia for Pacifism

I liked this particularly piece from the ever-interesting T.S. O'Rama. Unfortunately, direct linking is fouled up bigtime, so you'll have to go here and scroll down to Playing Devil's Advocate.

A Samuel Story Today Samuel

A Samuel Story

Today Samuel was carefully examining the hymnal and decided that he didn't much care for it. "What are all these smilies doing in here?" he asked, point to the "slurs" grouping the notes. "There are too many smilies. I don't like smilies." After I explained what they were, he decided that perhaps the smilies weren't so bad.

The Importance of Mysticism Check

The Importance of Mysticism

Check The Catholic Bookshelf for an excerpt from Evelyn Underhill's magnificent work on the the lives of the Saints, Mystics of the Church [direct linking not working, so just scroll and look for Ms. Underhill's name.]

Too often the word "mysticism" is regarded with some deep skeptism, sometime with something akin to horror. There lingers about it the odor of superstition and the occult. But, it was our word first, and we need to reclaim it for what it is--the indication of what every Christian should aim for in this life.