The Disconnect Between Catholic Academics and Daily Living

One of my personal complaints against Catholic philosophy and theology for the past 100 years or so has been its increasingly academic, specialized nature and consequently its lack of immediate application to daily Catholic living. Of course, there are many counterexamples to this sentiment, but even in many of those counterexamples, one will find the same specialized, technical handling hindering its consumption by a wider, literate lay audience.

For example, take the notion of the universal call to holiness, promoted officially in Lumen Gentium, ch. 5. Bishop Sheen famously said we have entered the age of the laity. Paul VI and John Paul II promoted the same notion when they advocated repeatedly for evangelization efforts to be taken up by the lay faithful, which is tied up with the universal call to holiness since the soul of the apostolate is sanctity and the end point of evangelization is sanctity. In this ongoing academic discussion, what have we instead witnessed? Decades and decades (if not over a century) of theological disagreements over the exact nature of the development of the spiritual life and its application to apostolic work, all under the heading of spiritual theology. These are necessary debates, to be sure, but what certain, concrete conclusions may be drawn from them and given to the layman for use? Instead, many will find it much easier and more practical to read one of the classic works of spirituality, such as the Introduction to the Devout Life or the Spiritual Combat or a book of meditations by St. Alphonsus. In other words, the theological battles of the 20th century that led to the promotion of this idea that we are in the age of the laity and that the laity have a newfound responsibility to promote the causes of Our Lord through the sanctification of the world have no palpable application for actual laypeople living in the world. They must return to older works by the Saints and Doctors who had no such theological concerns in order to begin to live in a manner that the 20th century theologians have called for. Hence the disconnect between academic, specialized life and concrete lay life. 

Or take another example, the case of aesthetics. Especially in the past few decades, we have heard touted the famous line, "Beauty will save the world." Bishop Barron has been an ardent proponent of this approach to evangelization--we draw people in by beauty. Peter Kreeft has mentioned that he was partly converted by the beauty of older Catholic Churches (never mind that he was also converted by a serious reading of the Church Fathers). Yet when one skims through the academic literature conducted by Catholic philosophers and theologians on aesthetics, one is left scratching his head whether we stand on firm ground by upholding such an approach or what such a pithy phrase even means metaphysically, let alone in its concrete application to a methodology for evangelization. In the conversation between Bp. Barron and the Protestant philosopher and apologist William Lane Craig, Craig almost scoffed at the idea that we can merely evangelize through beauty. Craig's experience (and his reference to sociological data to support his experience) is that people leave the faith or question the faith because they perceive it to be intellectually bankrupt. The moral bankruptcy of ecclesiastical figures then "seals the deal" on their leaving the practice of religion. In Craig's estimation (and many of his colleagues who have spent decades in Christian philosophy and evangelization work), people need the assurance and proof that the Christian faith has deep, intellectual anchors, and that these anchors have real application to daily living. While beauty might appeal and draw a person in, that intuitive attraction needs to be fleshed out conceptually if the person is to stay since intuitions, like emotions, are fleeting, but convictions rest on habits of thinking.

Hence in Barron's approach, one can see that a "Catholic" commentary on culture and the arts is interesting and provides much food for thought, it doesn't actually explain why the Catholic faith is true or how the Catholic conception of religious life applies to daily living. A commentary on a movie or a song may serve a springboard for an interesting conversation and may open one's aesthetic appreciations, it is hard to perceive that such an approach would have anything close to the corrective effects that Craig's and other apologists' approach has been, which directly addresses the errors of thinking in modern society and how these errors in turn trickle down into wider culture.

To be fair, the approaches of Barron and Craig are not mutually exclusive, and these two men are approaching their goals based on their very different experiences. It is conceivable that some complementary, third way or tiered method of evangelization that makes use of both approaches may be conceived and developed, but this very need to do so, and the technical precision with which it must be done for philosophical and theological accuracy, affirm my initial contention: the theology of evangelization is fundamentally disconnected from the practice of it.

The Church in fact had encountered this difficulty with Catholic Action. Fervent Catholic men and women leading political causes on behalf of Christ the King ended up being more political than Catholic, and the Church was often pressed into the difficult decision of how to support these movements in the midst of very difficult political maneuvering from the 19th century and on. Reflecting on the role of Catholic Action, perhaps one may say that the multifaceted causes that feed political and social movements are almost impossible to fully analyze especially in the moment, and an apostolic effort to steer or influence those movements, to avoid getting lost in the uncertainty of the present, must remain firmly grounded on the supernatural foundation of prayer, trust in God, and sacrifices. And the fruits of one's efforts may not be seen in one's lifetime since these movements were centuries in the making.

And for a third example, it has often been remarked that Catholic morality has nothing to do with daily life. What this sentiment typically means is something twofold: 1) the Church has nothing to do with how I conduct my private or public life; and 2) the convoluted, casuistic reasoning of theological writings has little application for my daily living since there is no one to translate that reasoning into concrete norms suitable for a lay audience.

Of course, the first half of the sentiment is completely wrong and predicated on the success of post-Enlightenment liberalism + the way of life made possible by industrial, technical, medical advances (=modernity), but the second half is often reflecting a truth. The moral reasoning that upheld Catholic living increasingly not only disagreed with modern moral sentiments, but it also increasingly had nothing to do with how modern moral frameworks conceived and articulated themselves and hence nothing to do with how people went about their daily moral decision-making once those frameworks trickled down into popular culture. These are points far better articulated and discussed by Alasdair MacIntyre in his works for the past 40 years. 

In other words, the arguments of Humanae Vitae literally have nothing to say to the "modern man" (whatever that means). It is inconceivable to a modern person how metaphysical and theological arguments around the nature of the marital act could have conclusions against acts like contraception since the marital act is not even conceived as reserved to marriage, and certainly not with any outdated metaphysical or theological accoutrements.

Pro-life arguments often take a mostly secular line of reasoning and not even from natural law considerations but arguments from the science/biology of conception, the application of a liberal society's conception of human rights and dignity, etc. One can retroactively or anachronistically apply natural law "tailoring" to those argumentative approaches, but for the pro-life movement to have such widespread support, it must fundamentally appeal to modern sentiments: liberalism, science, dignity, rights, etc. These all make the most sense within a Catholic metaphysics, but they cannot be articulated as such by the widespread; otherwise we would lose the support of the Evangelicals and pro-life secularists, and the movement would most likely fall apart. Hence one even has the paradox that abortion is conceivable as a "right" only within a liberal paradigm and yet one argues against that right using the same paradigm that makes it possible. Within a Catholic milieu, there would be no possible way of thinking that one had a "right" to abortion and hence no need to argue against it using the same conceptual framework.

But regardless, moral arguments from the Catholic tradition are stereotypically caricaturized as debates on "how many angels dance on the head of a pin." To summarize: they are useless, impractical, academic, convoluted, etc.

This all of course being a long-winded preface to my next consideration, the morality surrounding the Covid vaccine. To be continued...

Intrinsic Dignity vs. Circumstantial Dignity

Experience tells us that circumstances may either dress a man up with nobility or with degradation. When Christ was scourged and crowned with thorns and then shown to the people, such an act was surely not dignifying but degrading. Nevertheless, we know that even in that circumstance, Christ's intrinsic dignity both as God and man perdured. In fact, reflection on such common experiences of public shame and embarrassment show us that it would be absurd to propose that a person's dignity could be annihilated by circumstances.

Intrinsic dignity is that which remains inherent to a person in spite of circumstances, perceptions, and actions. It is why rape is always wrong, even if as some people crudely suggest a victim was somehow "asking" for it or herself guilty for attracting potential rapists. Even if a woman was inviting such a gravely immoral action, the rape is still wrong because it violates the woman's dignity (among other reasons). It is also why many people argue against capital punishment; they say, "What example are we setting by killing a killer?" I'm not here to comment on the rigor of these arguments but am simply pointing out that they imply and appeal to a notion of intrinsic dignity.

Hence, it is clear that to take the life of someone, or for him to take his own life, would be wrong even if all the circumstances of his life were undignified—poverty, lack of hygiene, the absence of loved ones or any support, depression and other suffering, etc. No number of degraded circumstances could destroy the intrinsic dignity of an individual. These circumstances may make a person's life psychologically unbearable to endure, it may be granted, but the dignity remains.

When a person begs to "die with dignity," they usually, but not always, are pointing more properly to the notion of being perceived as dignified. In other cases, such a request points to that individual's self-perception of dignity: "do I see myself as dignified in these circumstances?" In either case, the person ignores intrinsic dignity. Of course, they have the freedom to do so, but they are ignoring it nonetheless.

What is the implication of intrinsic dignity? Does it mean that a person can take his own life? Most cases of euthanasia appeal to circumstantial dignity—the suffering, the dwindling resources, the age, etc. People who commit suicide often do so, if they leave a suicide note, out of circumstances and not an appeal to their intrinsic dignity.

Actually, intrinsic dignity suggests that despite circumstances a person should persevere in the struggle for self-actualization as a human. This would mean, as far as possible, the cultivation of virtue. Intrinsic dignity implies a firm rock amidst a violent ocean to which they ought to cling.

There is, finally, a striking conclusion from the notion of intrinsic dignity. A common and powerful argument for abortion is that a child should be killed before he or she should be made to suffer growing up in terrible circumstances, where a mother may resent the child for being a reminder of when she was raped, where a father is absent, where poverty and frequent abuse is the norm, where an education is practically impossible, etc. This argument presents abortion as an act of mercy to a child. But if we remember intrinsic dignity, then we can see its absurdity. Take a 5 year old who has already been growing up in such circumstances as described in this argument: should the mother/father/society/etc. be allowed to kill the child to prevent that child from suffering further abuse or neglect? What about a 2 year old? What about a 1 year old? What about a baby who has just been delivered? Should it be killed then? Clearly no one would kill a 5 year old because of such reasoning. But why should age be the only differentiating factor, and if it is, when is the child young enough, and why does that age justify the act?

If we would not kill another person because that would be a violation of their intrinsic dignity, which includes in it the right to live and to self-determination, why is the violation acceptable in the case of an infant still in the womb? The infant is biologically an individual despite its physical dependence on the mother, but even such physical dependence doesn't reduce the intrinsic dignity of an individual being; this is again circumstantial dignity which points to the physical dependence. Calling the embryo a "parasite" is again simply an argument referring to circumstantial dignity.

No, the responsible action is, as always, a respect of individuals and of what is properly theirs, which includes dignity and the right to life and self-determination even if an individual is not in the concrete capable of doing so (appeal to circumstantial dignity). The responsible act, then, is to accept the reality of suffering and moral evil AND respect the right of an infant to live despite the fact that it will grow up in the worst of circumstances.

Distinction: Beginning of Life vs. Beginning of Human Life vs. Beginning of Human Person

This interviewer confuses three distinct notions: 1) when does "life" start (whatever that means); 2) when does the life of a distinct biological organism start (in this case, a human); 3) when does a human being become a human person.

The first two questions posed as they are in this context makes them biological/scientific questions rather than philosophical ones as the interviewer intended because both questions can be answered very easily by science:

1) to ask when life starts without any further qualification is similar to asking whether the chicken or the egg came first; the sperm and ovum must both be alive for there to be any conception; when conception occurs, a distinct biological organism forms that is alive (this is the beginning of the life of this distinct human);

2) to ask when this biological organism becomes human is simple: by referring to the genetic makeup of the organism, we can tell what species it is; in this case, human.

The third question might be philosophical depending on whether or how a person distinguishes the notion of human being from human person. A lot of the philosophical aspect of the abortion debate circles around these concepts. The political aspects focus more on the utilitarian and concrete consequences of either supporting or preventing abortion.

Of course, for Catholics and many realists, the human being is always a human person because although the notions may be logically distinguishable, they are not so and cannot be so in the concrete. We exercise such "distinguish-ables" all the time: e.g. "tree" doesn't simply exist on its own but exists in concrete manifestations of trees: elm tree, birch tree, apple trees, etc.; there isn't just a "car" but specific models and makes: Honda Civic 2013, Ford Fiesta 2012, Volkswagen Passat 2014, etc.

Dignity is Not an Appendage

We do not build up dignity by our environments, by how we feel, or by our present or possible physical, emotional, or spiritual conditions. Certainly there's something related to dignity when these are present or absent (for example, we say that it would be undignified for someone of high office to act and dress like anyone else), but our dignity must be intrinsic to our very being as humans, as this kind of concrete manifestation and arrangement of being.

To allow for abortion until the day when a child will be born to a loving mother, a good environment, a hopeful future, etc., is to consign most of humanity to death (on the first condition alone, for many mothers seem to be hardly loving). This utopia will never happen. It reveals the inadequacy of such an argument. The argument implies that the intrinsic worth of a being is determined by the external circumstances in which it shall grow. Our dignity inheres and remains in spite of trials and tribulations. Tribulation is the rich soil for heroism and greatness of soul (magnanimity), which all admit is the shining pinnacle of human dignity. But tribulation is also the potential pit of despair, and this result often occurs because of a lack of heroism among those who are already in tribulation as well as a lack of love, which always requires a certain degree of heroism.

A Common Non Sequitur with Priests

There is a common non sequitur used towards priests/theologians' arguments, especially regarding sexuality, and it goes like this: "Because priest/theologian x has never been married/is a virgin/been in a relationship/had children/etc., therefore priest/theologian x cannot speak about matters concerning sexuality/marriage/abortion/contraception/etc."

Often the "fluffing" around the antecedent statement goes like: such experience would allow the priest/theologian x to see that not everything is black and white; things are more complicated than that; fuzzier.

But how is this premise that one has to directly experience something in order to speak correctly about it true, which in some cases it actually is not (for some men who become priests were married, had children, got divorced, etc., etc.)? There is an extent to which it is true—we can't meaningfully speak of what we don't know. I can't use many slang words that my co-workers use because I simply don't know what they mean (and even if I did know them, most of them I wouldn't use anyway probably). But actually, this premise is balanced by another, for really there are two ways for men to come to know things: 1) by direct experience; 2) on the authority of others.

We experience many things directly, but there are far more things that we never directly experience. The vast majority of what we know depends firstly on the authority of others, whether that be a parent, a teacher, a scientist, a neighbor, the media, a government/country, an institution, the pope, a priest, a customer, a coworker, a boss, etc. That authority could even be the description on the back of a food package, an internet article, or an email.

And if we were to trace back all of what we know from others, we could hardly pinpoint the exact authority and source. Most of what we take for granted of what we hear from others becomes a jumbled mess that collectively forms how we view the world. And because some of this information we sometimes apply in our direct experience and find that it "works" (e.g. looking up a "how-to" article online and doing it), we tend to casually assume that the rest of what we hear is also true. We assume that Tibet exists because there happen to be so many people talking about it. We assume that there is global warming because the media and scientists and political lobbyists say so—or at least there seems to be a big fuss about it. But unless we actually go to Tibet, how would we know? And how would an individual really come to know that global warming is in fact happening?

Regardless, there are undoubtedly these two ways of coming to know things: 1) direct experience; 2) the authority of others.

Ah, but I neglected to mention the third, and most human, way: 3) REASON. Now, reason is a special way of coming to know because it isn't exactly like the first two ways. The first two ways of direct experience and indirect authority are strictly "input"—they give us knowledge, data, that we didn't possess nor really could have possessed on our own before. But reason gives us more data only after it takes 1) and 2) and applies them to argumentation and logical analysis. Reason examines direct experience and what others say and begins to form propositions and conclusions; it then tests these products against 1) and 2). For example, a coworker x tells me that another coworker y is supposed to come into work today (this is an example of type 2) of gaining knowledge through the authority of another). I can check this claim against a schedule sheet that lists all the employees and their schedules for the week. If that coworker y isn't listed at the time that I was told (this is REASON applying the data to argumentation), then I know that the coworker x who told me that information was either 1) wrong or 2) lying. I can then form further conclusions and test them.

Now, to return to the point: why must a person directly experience these "difficult" experiences of sexuality, marriage, and such before being allowed to talk about them? Ah, and here we see: there really isn't any reason. What does direct experience of such matters really add to philosophical reasoning? After all, we are speaking about what gives a person the authority to make valid philosophical arguments regarding this experience. It seems to me almost purely arbitrary that a person must directly experience such things in order to speak on them.

But EVEN if this premise were granted—that a person must have direct experience of such things to speak validly on them—, it STILL forms a non sequitur because a proposition is either true or false, and an argument is either valid or invalid, and these hold even if the person advancing the argument does not have the epistemic authority to personally speak on such matters. For what if the person ISN'T speaking from personal experience but presenting what many others have presented? What if the argumentation is based on a survey, interviews, or some other means of gathering information?

The counter is a non sequitur because at the end of the day, we still have these propositions and arguments about sexuality that must be addressed on their own merit, regardless of the person presenting the argument. And in fact, this counter then reveals itself to be a kind of genetic fallacy, which brushes aside the truth of a proposition or the validity of an argument because of the origins or genesis of those propositions or arguments. It is true or false regardless of their origins although origins normally help to justify or warrant the propositions.

And even further: the assumption behind this counter is that priests are ignorant about such muddled, painful, dark, difficult, or even joyful matters as sexuality and family life because they are celibates. Now this is a HUGE assumption that simply cannot be backed. I recall a passage from one of G.K. Chesterton's short stories "The Blue Cross" that illustrates my point quite clearly:

"No, no," said [Father] Brown with an air of apology. "You see, I suspected you when we first met. It's that little bulge up the sleeve where you people have the spiked bracelet." 

"How in Tartarus," cried Flambeau, "did you ever hear of the spiked bracelet?" 

"Oh, one's little flock, you know!" said Father Brown, arching his eyebrows rather blankly. "When I was a curate in Hartlepool, there were three of them with spiked bracelets. [...] I rather wonder you didn't stop it with the Donkey's Whistle."

"With the what?" asked Flambeau. 

"I'm glad you've never heard of it," said the priest, making a face. "It's a foul thing. I'm sure you're too good a man for a Whistler. I couldn't have countered it even with the Spots myself; I'm not strong enough in the legs." 

"What on earth are you talking about?" asked the other. 

"Well, I did think you'd know the Spots," said Father Brown, agreeably surprised. "Oh, you can't have gone so very wrong yet!" 

"How in blazes do you know all these horrors?" cried Flambeau. 

The shadow of a smile crossed the round, simple face of his clerical opponent. 

"Oh, by being a celibate simpleton, I suppose," he said. "Has it never struck you that a man who does next to nothing but hear men's real sins is not likely to be wholly unaware of human evil? But, as a matter of fact, another part of my trade, too, made me sure you weren't a priest." 

"What?" asked the thief, almost gaping. 

"You attacked reason," said Father Brown. "It's bad theology."

And really, that's what these counters come down to: an attack on reason itself because these counters are themselves unreasonable and refuse to listen to reason. Of course, then, theology is rejected. People caught up in the "fuzzy," "grey," and "down-to-earth" stuff about sexuality actually are usually simply defending their pride and their sinful attachments. Theology is always too "pure" and "lofty" for such people, and therefore always "high tower," "black and white," etc. Well, there is a black and white at the end of the day, and it's called heaven and hell, and you're going to only one of those places.

Priests have abundant experience in such matters because almost daily they talk to people about them. They hear things that even spouses won't dare tell each other in a million years, that parents won't tell their children, or children, their parents. They hear these things in great detail, sometimes even exhaustively so. They deal with people who suffer from the whole range of mental and spiritual disorder, and yes, some of them are trained in psychology and counseling. If anything, priests are the most qualified to talk about such matters due to their combined education, pastoral experience, and typically higher and more developed abilities of reflexivity, critical analysis, and empathy. Of course, not every priest is stellar, and many are not. Nevertheless, when compared to the average person who has only so many romantic relationships over a long period of time, the priest faces people in these situations constantly. Only the person who has such breadth of experience can, through reflection, come to notice patterns of behavior and draw conclusions about human relationships, nature, and fulfillment. The priest is in the best position to do this.

"A Woman Has a Right to Do with Her Body as She Wishes"

Be sure to store the following tidbit regarding a common objection in defense of abortion in your "memory palace" for future retrieval if ever needed:

The common objection tends to arise: “But a woman has a right to do with her body as she wishes.” Yes, a woman—and in this she is no different from a man—has freedom and the ability to do what she wishes with her body. But this freedom and right is not absolute, and is rather a limited freedom or a conditional right. The just limits of that right include not causing harm to another innocent human being when exercising one’s bodily freedom. So while a woman can do with her body as she sees fit, she cannot do whatever she wants to another human being’s body without his or her free consent. Since the embryonic or fetal human being is a member of the human species, she cannot justly cause harm to that child. As the popular retort to this objection goes, “Her rights end where another person’s body begins.” Ultimately this objection is both a red herring and non sequitur.

Source: Arland K. Nichols, "Birth of Twins Highlights Evil of Abortion," Crisis Magazine, February 12, 2014, accessed March 19, 2014, http://www.crisismagazine.com/2014/birth-of-twins-highlights-evil-of-abortion.