I've noticed a curious thing among certain Catholics on the internet. There's a curious disdain from them for patriotism. This isn't limited to merely one side of the political spectrum either. Among left-leaning Catholics (which, thankfully, seem to all be connected with one website) there's an open disdain for the United States, and the love of it. Curiously, love of European countries is viewed as good on this website. With Catholics of a more conservative bent there's an even stranger permutation of this. For some bizarre reason, right leaning Catholics have burning hatred of the federal government (well, that's not bizarre), and a curious pining for the Confederacy (that's the weird one), to the point where they often refuse to use the term Civil War, or acknowledge that slavery even happened in the Confederacy (this is an interesting point, and one I'm going to dedicate an entire post to at some later date). Not to meantion various Lefebvrist sites ranting about Americanism. Both sides bring up inequities in United Staes to justify their dismissal of patriotism.
Now this, to me is very strange. Personally, I don't see anything wrong with patriotism or loving one's country. I was raised a good, God-fearing boy in the backwoods (well, suburbs actually) of New Hampshire. I was taught that God was good, my Church was good, and my country was a good place to be. When Pope Benedict came to the U.S. he praised various aspects of the United States. Which is good, but to an extent not relevant to my point, since I don't want to get into a quote-off as I like to call them (for those that don't know, a "quote-off" is when two people in argument simply quote other people back and forth to each other without an serious consideration of the other's side, or attempt at reasoning through a disagreement). I just mention it because I figure the Pope is probably a good Catholic, and this shows that good Catholics can say good things about my country. But again, I'm not so much concerned with the United States specifically, as I am with patriotism generally. Can a French Catholic love France, with all of its problems and inequalities, and still be a good Catholic? Or an Iraqi Catholic love Iraq? An Egyptian and Egypt? Columbian Catholics and Columbia?
For my part, it seems good to me that a man loves his country. I think a man should love his own country for the same reason he should love his wife; not because she is perfect, but because she is his. The patriot doesn't think that his country is Utopia, a place of perfection where there is no suffering (a Catholic patriot especially shouldn't think that). Certainly he may see more strengths than one who hates his country, but the patriot doesn't live in fantasy world. He looks at the serious problems his country has and, as far as is in his ability to affect, he seeks to correct them. The Catholic patriot also recognizes that the New Jerusalem is not possible this side of the grave. He recognizes that there will never be a perfect country anywhere in the world. Knowing this, however, should not lead him to complacency, on the contrary, it should lead him to do as much good as possible, because he never knows when the world's last night will be.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
The Soul
Before we begin, we should discuss one of the main things the Catholic Faith touches on: the soul. Since one can simply read the Catholic Encyclopedia's definition of the soul, I'm not going to concern myself too much with the definiton of the soul (besides, as Aristotle stated at the beginning of his De Anima, defining the notion of soul is one of the most difficult questions in the world, and one that philosophers and theologians have been struggling with for centuries). No, what I'm going to concern myself with here is how the conept of a soul developed in human culture.
For some time now, ever since I first heard of it in an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, I've been fascinated by the Epic of Gilgamesh. For those that don't know, the Epic of Gilgamesh is a Sumerian epic, that was first unearthed at the birth Assyriology (the study Sumer, Akkad, Bablyon, and associated cultures, like Assyria) in the 1880s and translated a number of years later. Most Catholics know it, if they know it at all, because it contains an intriguing analogue of Noah's Flood. It tells the tale of Gilgamesh the King of Uruk, a mighty city in ancient Sumer, and his wild, hairy, beat-like friend Enkidu. Together Gilgamesh and Enkidu embark on a series of adventures, fighting demons, monsters, and all manner of strange creatures, including gods. In fact, Gilgamesh manages to anger one of Sumer's major goddesses, Ishtar, by refusing to marry her, and then insults her by speaking of her Black Widow-like behavior. As punishment, she has the other gods in the Sumerian Pantheon arrange for Enkidu's death. Enkidu dies, and Gilgamesh is horrified and heart broken. He decides the best thing to do is to go out and find the secret of eternal life, from those lived "before the flood". It's an excellent story, and surely one of the most moving meditations on death the world has ever seen. What does this have to do with the soul? Simply this: that if we are to determine the beginnings of the soul concept, we should look back into the past, to the beginnings of humanity itself.
Now, let's do a mental exercise. Imagine it's ancient Sumer, or Egypt, take your pick. You're talking to your good buddy, Hotep, and then all of a sudden he falls down and doesn't get up. And he keeps on not getting up. Now, nothing has changed about Hotep. He weighs the same as before he died. Materially, he's exactly the same. Which would certainly get one to thinking that something immaterial had changed. Something that couldn't be seen, but no less real had changed. How do we know that it was real? Well, reality changed. Hotep was alive, talking and moving, eating and drinking, and now he's dead. The reality of Hotep changed. Therefore something in reality itself changed, and something that can change reality is real (I'm playing a little fast and loose with the term reality, by saying in can change, but what I mean is that the universe changes,since our poor friend Hotep is part of the universe). Now, if we say that the immaterial is not real, then we have no credible explanation for the death of Hotep. Poor guy, he had some much to look for ward to, he had just patched things up with Mrs. Hotep and was looking at a mud hut closer to the river, and now he's gone. Without a belief in the soul, there is no explanation for the difference between states. With the concept of the soul there ultimately isn't any difference between death and life. They're both the same thing, because materially there is no difference between the two. So, far from being a wishful fantasy, the belief in an immaterial soul is actually the most logical explanation for that fate that awaits us all, death.
Now keep in mind we haven't figured out anything about the nature of the soul yet, beyond that it is immaterial and in some sense separate from the body. The actual nature of the soul is something we'll be getting to in a later post. But I think this one has gone on quite long enough. I'll close with merely this last thought. Once we open ourselves up to the possibility of an immaterial, but real, soul, that leaves the door open for many other immaterial and real things to exist. "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy"
For some time now, ever since I first heard of it in an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, I've been fascinated by the Epic of Gilgamesh. For those that don't know, the Epic of Gilgamesh is a Sumerian epic, that was first unearthed at the birth Assyriology (the study Sumer, Akkad, Bablyon, and associated cultures, like Assyria) in the 1880s and translated a number of years later. Most Catholics know it, if they know it at all, because it contains an intriguing analogue of Noah's Flood. It tells the tale of Gilgamesh the King of Uruk, a mighty city in ancient Sumer, and his wild, hairy, beat-like friend Enkidu. Together Gilgamesh and Enkidu embark on a series of adventures, fighting demons, monsters, and all manner of strange creatures, including gods. In fact, Gilgamesh manages to anger one of Sumer's major goddesses, Ishtar, by refusing to marry her, and then insults her by speaking of her Black Widow-like behavior. As punishment, she has the other gods in the Sumerian Pantheon arrange for Enkidu's death. Enkidu dies, and Gilgamesh is horrified and heart broken. He decides the best thing to do is to go out and find the secret of eternal life, from those lived "before the flood". It's an excellent story, and surely one of the most moving meditations on death the world has ever seen. What does this have to do with the soul? Simply this: that if we are to determine the beginnings of the soul concept, we should look back into the past, to the beginnings of humanity itself.
Now, let's do a mental exercise. Imagine it's ancient Sumer, or Egypt, take your pick. You're talking to your good buddy, Hotep, and then all of a sudden he falls down and doesn't get up. And he keeps on not getting up. Now, nothing has changed about Hotep. He weighs the same as before he died. Materially, he's exactly the same. Which would certainly get one to thinking that something immaterial had changed. Something that couldn't be seen, but no less real had changed. How do we know that it was real? Well, reality changed. Hotep was alive, talking and moving, eating and drinking, and now he's dead. The reality of Hotep changed. Therefore something in reality itself changed, and something that can change reality is real (I'm playing a little fast and loose with the term reality, by saying in can change, but what I mean is that the universe changes,since our poor friend Hotep is part of the universe). Now, if we say that the immaterial is not real, then we have no credible explanation for the death of Hotep. Poor guy, he had some much to look for ward to, he had just patched things up with Mrs. Hotep and was looking at a mud hut closer to the river, and now he's gone. Without a belief in the soul, there is no explanation for the difference between states. With the concept of the soul there ultimately isn't any difference between death and life. They're both the same thing, because materially there is no difference between the two. So, far from being a wishful fantasy, the belief in an immaterial soul is actually the most logical explanation for that fate that awaits us all, death.
Now keep in mind we haven't figured out anything about the nature of the soul yet, beyond that it is immaterial and in some sense separate from the body. The actual nature of the soul is something we'll be getting to in a later post. But I think this one has gone on quite long enough. I'll close with merely this last thought. Once we open ourselves up to the possibility of an immaterial, but real, soul, that leaves the door open for many other immaterial and real things to exist. "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy"
Intro
Hi everyone, I'm Hux. My real name's Michael, but the nickname's Hux. I'm a Catholic and an art school student in San Francisco (hence the title, because I live in the "Lion's Den" so to speak). I'm not going to be doing a another Catholic newsblog, because there are already tons of good ones out there (which I'll be linking to eventually). I'm intending this to be more like, well, a series of term papers. I'm fascinated by my Catholic faith and often study certain subjects in it that interest me. So, the basic idea is that I'll study some particular topic I'm interested in, (and if you are too, that's awesome), and write about. I do a lot of reading on the Faith and I feel that it needs an outlet where other people can benefit from any knowledge or wisdom that I glean. And in all honesty, sometimes the things I write about won't have anything to do with the Catholic faith, except in a tangential way. Oh by the way, don't bother looking for daily posts, because they're never gonna happen. Just look about once a week, and you'll see a new post, or two if I'm feeling particularly spry. Anyway, should in be fun.
Dominus Vobiscum
Dominus Vobiscum
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)