"Proud to be an American," "The power of pride," "school pride," "gay pride," "national pride," "I'm proud of you," etc. The word pride, and it's variation proud, are often thrown about in colloquial conversation, as if something laudatory. We use the word pride often to describe something that we see as praiseworthy, such as when we say "I am proud of you," of "I am proud that..." However, I have come to the conclusion that either we greatly equivocate with the word "pride" or else we don't understand the true nature of the word pride.
For the sake of having something to write, I will assume that pride is often glossed over as being something more benign than it is. St Augustine, in the City of God, describes pride as the first sin, occurring almost simultaneously with creation (the full explanation takes care of the "God creating evil dilemma). Pride is also described as being the mother of all sins and the greatest of all sins by him.
Augustine's definition of pride was simply, "putting oneself before God." By this he means that in any instance, whether it be honor, devotion or service, we render to ourselves before we render to God, the universe, or else our fellow humans.
Later on, St Thomas Aquinas would list his "Seven Deadly Sins," a list of what he conceived to be the most vicious sins. The list includes several instances of pride, especially vanity. By applying Augustine's definition, we realize that not only vanity, but also at least gluttony, lust, sloth, greed and envy are also applicable, since they all depend on one putting himself above others.
Jesus says that the greatest commandment is to "Love God with all your heart, and the second is like unto it, thou shalt love your neighbor as yourself." Thus we can see that the commandment of Jesus Himself is a direct opposite to the demand of pride. If we love God with all our hearts, and our neighbors as ourselves, we no longer have the desire to put ourselves above either one of them.
But aside from theological talk, I must make a personal confession. I have found for myself that the time when I am the absolute most miserable is when I think I am not getting what is due to me. Whenever I get self-centered I never find myself being satisfied, but rather, being upset at what I have been given and what I perceive that I am missing.
On the contrary, the rare occasions where I find myself being generous, charitable and humble, I find myself more happy than any other time.
I have also noticed this quality in a lot of my family and friends. They're never happy when they think about themselves and what they think they ought to have. I've seen plenty of family torn apart because rather than loving people for who they are, they prefer to try to impose their own personality upon others. I have seen friends grow apart when one has had to call the other to reckoning and the other, in his or her own pride, has been loath to do so, or to admit that he or she does not have the ability to repay the debt.
Truly, pride is the most divisive vice there is. If there is a more destructive sin, I don't know what it could be.
Thus we're stuck in a bit of a contradiction. When we think of ourselves as being all-important, we exhibit hubris, one of the ugly heads of pride. However, it is against our nature and our experience to think in terms of anything besides ourselves. Thus, we get a plethora of philosophies and theologies that try to combat this problem. Even the scientifically based proposition that since humans are a relatively young species, on an infinitesimally small sphere in the vast universe, we are nothing, is itself based on a philosophy not unlike Nihilism. Platonism, Stoicism, and Aristotelianism all try to deal with overcoming the problem of pride, but they all also stop short of their mark, in that they are unable to show what else we should venerate (Platonism and Aristotelianism both advocate philosophy, but does not philosophy serve the needs of man? Stoicism takes the Nihilistic approach).
Theologies, on the other hand, get closer to dealing with this problem. Paganistic rites have always maintained that the gods need appeasing in order to take care of our problems, thus, in order to actually help ourselves, we need to do homage and sacrifice to them. Buddhism and Hinduism maintain that since we are reincarnated after death, we must respect all animals in order to bring about good Karma and to show respect to those which may be our ancestors. Zen teaches that the universe is nothingness, thus, one must only learn to respect the emptiness of the universe.
Monotheism, on the other hand, proposes that there IS a God, and that this God does have power over all things. There are various strains among the Judaism, Christianity and Islam which maintain that it is necessary to try to win God's favor, and thus, supplication and humility must be shown to God in order for blessings to be poured out to theists.
Christianity, specifically the versions of it that I find more orthodox, realizes, with a sort of Nihilistic understanding, that there can be no true prayer but, "Thy will be done." If God is omnipotent, omniscient and omnibenevolent, then our supplications will not sway God unless God specifically wants our supplication. Furthermore, if bad things happen to us, they are likely, "God's will," or in other words, a lot of times out of our hands to do change.
It is important to note, however that Christianity should not become nor be confused with stoicism, wherein the highest virtue is apathy and the virtuous man realizes that he cannot avoid all the things that happen to him in life. Christianity believes that in the end, the way a man lives his life will affect his eternal destiny. Thus, a man may not have control over some of the good and bad things that happen to him, but he can decide how to respond to them, and he can demonstrate by his faith and (to me, more importantly) his ethics that he is a good person. Thus, he must pay homage to God first of all, for the good Christian understands that he is truly nothing, that God is everything, and that without the intervention of God Incarnate he is damned, but he also knows he must live a Christian life or he loses all of that.
In my estimation, the reason why this theology is superior is because it puts humanity necessarily in debt to God for something God has already done and that man must try to earn back. There is nothing like servitude to bring about a humble and pride-less attitude.
Showing posts with label Judaism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Judaism. Show all posts
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Pride
Labels:
Aristotle,
Augustine,
Christianity,
Islam,
Jesus,
Judaism,
Nihilism,
philosophy,
Plato,
pride,
Stoicism,
Thomas Aquinas
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
The language of God (linguam dei) (لغة الله)
I have grown up for the most part in Protestant-oriented (or Mormon-oriented if we want to differentiate) America with English as my only language for many years. After coming out to Catholic Notre Dame, I was exposed to a very different religious ideology. However, it was in studying theology in tandem with different langugages where I discovered that a lot of ideas and thoughts we have in American Protestant culture are very skewed and mistranslated ideas.
For example, as a Mormon, I always heard the name of Jehovah being tossed around among other Mormons. Later, I realized that Jehovah is really derived from the Latinized iehovah (like in Indiana Jones) which is really better transcribed in today's modern alphabet as YHWH (thanks to the incorporation of the Greek Epsilon and the invention of the W). The vowels we incorporate are purely functional since Hebrew can be read without vowels, and they for sure would not have been incorporated into the tetragramatron. In the Old Testament, the name appears like יהוה and would later have been given vowels as translators (most likely Jerome or those who compiled the Septuagint) would have seen fit.
Likewise, there are many ideas used in Greek that do not translate neatly into English. For example, the opening lines of the Gospel of John use the word "Logos" where it says "In the beginning was the Word." The Greek idea of Logos can be used to mean word, but furthermore it means something more related simple cognitive movement, but especially those movements that are communicative in nature. Thus, Logos can also refer to ideas, thoughts, and, in contemporary usage, even study. Thus the word Logos doesn't just mean the Word, but God's own thought.
There are other controversies that have arisen because of language ambiguation. The Nicene Creed for those from the Roman heritage, for example, says that the Holy Spirit "proceeds from the Father and the Son," whereas in the Greek tradition he "proceeds from the Father through the Son." This seemingly slight difference changes the entire Trinitarian formula depending on whether the Holy Spirit descends or is emitted. Likewise, the early Church councils debated on whether the Word and the Flesh were of one nature or one likeness depending on the placement of a single Greek iota.
Even in these early Church councils, such as Chalcedon and Ephasis, because of the wording of certain theological principles, the Christian Church was schismed against itself and the Oriental Church was broken off from the Church at Constantinople. This division caused such a rift that even until the last fifty years, the Churches had not been in communion with each other.
Perhaps this is why the Catholic Church maintained Latin as the official Liturgical language for so long. Even now, post Vatican II, all official proclamations from the Vatican are written in Latin. And other Churches, such as the Caldeans and the Assyrians practice their liturgies in their native tongues rather than in the common tongue of the area.
But even against this, it is interesting to see the various different languages God's word has been handed down in. The Old Testament, the oldest of the various scriptures adhered to by Monotheists, was originally written in Hebrew. When God speaks to Moses, it's all in Hebrew, and when Isaiah and Jeremiah write poetry, that's also in Hebrew. It would not be incorrect to say that God speaks Hebrew first and foremost.
Then comes something rather peculiar. Due to Alexander the Great's occupation of Israel, many Jews found themselves outside of the former Kingdom of Judah. The TNK (Old Testament) was then recompiled by seventy Jewish scholars into Greek, which we know now as the Septuagint. As far as translations go, there are few big differences between the TNK and the Septuagint, aside from the presence of deutero-canonical (or "apocryphal") texts in the Septuagint. However, with the Bible being in Greek, this took off any claim that could be made that Hebrew is God's language.
Christianity comes along and makes things even worse. Christian scriptures are all written in Greek. The apostles who wrote wrote their epistles in Greek. The Apocalypse is in Greek. Even the Gospels and the Acts of the Apostles are written in Greek. All of a sudden, there's a new religion claiming to be in right standing with God which writes completely in Greek. However, there's a bigger catch to this. Jesus didn't speak Greek. Jesus spoke Aramaic. Traces of this can be seen even in the Gospels, especially in scenes where one of the Evangelists (John mostly) clarifies his words by saying "....meaning..." or "...that is to say..." Historical critical exegetes see these quotes as being evidence of the historical Jesus.
Now the Christian finds himself in an odd standpoint. His scriptures are in Greek, and, except for the fact that the canon was formed using the Septuagint, have some Hebrew origins, but their founder and the object of their worship spoke Aramaic. Thus we can see why above all the monotheistic faiths, Christianity puts the least emphasis on liturgical language. Aramaic, Greek, Latin, Arabic, Armenian, Coptic and Hindi were used for centuries as acceptable languages of the faith, with German, French and English developing as acceptable languages in the sixteenth century and all common languages being used today.
Islam enters the story about five hundred years after Christianity. However, the قورئن was handed down to Muhammed in Arabic as the very Word of God. Thus, there is no room for variance. To vary from Arabic in liturgy, or exegesis is to stray from God's actual word. Even the احدث are preserved in Arabic, though they are not official words spoken by the Angel Gabriel. Thus, in Islam, it is very clear that God's language is nothing other than Arabic.
This poses an interesting question and certainly a point for consideration. If so many theological points are untranslatable, how are we to expect all people to know them? Likewise, if God only speaks one language, are we to expect all men and women world-wide to learn this language? To take a passage out of the Bible, one which all three monotheistic faiths recognize, the tower of Babel story demonstrates to us the dangers that can arise when we all speak the same language. Had God wanted us to be able to communicate simply and universally with each other, perhaps it would have been better if our communication were limited to the moans and shrieks of whales, dolphins, dogs and cats. Thus, we are struck with the paradoxical question of "what language does God give preference for?" and likewise "if God had a preferential language, would not we all speak this?"
For example, as a Mormon, I always heard the name of Jehovah being tossed around among other Mormons. Later, I realized that Jehovah is really derived from the Latinized iehovah (like in Indiana Jones) which is really better transcribed in today's modern alphabet as YHWH (thanks to the incorporation of the Greek Epsilon and the invention of the W). The vowels we incorporate are purely functional since Hebrew can be read without vowels, and they for sure would not have been incorporated into the tetragramatron. In the Old Testament, the name appears like יהוה and would later have been given vowels as translators (most likely Jerome or those who compiled the Septuagint) would have seen fit.
Likewise, there are many ideas used in Greek that do not translate neatly into English. For example, the opening lines of the Gospel of John use the word "Logos" where it says "In the beginning was the Word." The Greek idea of Logos can be used to mean word, but furthermore it means something more related simple cognitive movement, but especially those movements that are communicative in nature. Thus, Logos can also refer to ideas, thoughts, and, in contemporary usage, even study. Thus the word Logos doesn't just mean the Word, but God's own thought.
There are other controversies that have arisen because of language ambiguation. The Nicene Creed for those from the Roman heritage, for example, says that the Holy Spirit "proceeds from the Father and the Son," whereas in the Greek tradition he "proceeds from the Father through the Son." This seemingly slight difference changes the entire Trinitarian formula depending on whether the Holy Spirit descends or is emitted. Likewise, the early Church councils debated on whether the Word and the Flesh were of one nature or one likeness depending on the placement of a single Greek iota.
Even in these early Church councils, such as Chalcedon and Ephasis, because of the wording of certain theological principles, the Christian Church was schismed against itself and the Oriental Church was broken off from the Church at Constantinople. This division caused such a rift that even until the last fifty years, the Churches had not been in communion with each other.
Perhaps this is why the Catholic Church maintained Latin as the official Liturgical language for so long. Even now, post Vatican II, all official proclamations from the Vatican are written in Latin. And other Churches, such as the Caldeans and the Assyrians practice their liturgies in their native tongues rather than in the common tongue of the area.
But even against this, it is interesting to see the various different languages God's word has been handed down in. The Old Testament, the oldest of the various scriptures adhered to by Monotheists, was originally written in Hebrew. When God speaks to Moses, it's all in Hebrew, and when Isaiah and Jeremiah write poetry, that's also in Hebrew. It would not be incorrect to say that God speaks Hebrew first and foremost.
Then comes something rather peculiar. Due to Alexander the Great's occupation of Israel, many Jews found themselves outside of the former Kingdom of Judah. The TNK (Old Testament) was then recompiled by seventy Jewish scholars into Greek, which we know now as the Septuagint. As far as translations go, there are few big differences between the TNK and the Septuagint, aside from the presence of deutero-canonical (or "apocryphal") texts in the Septuagint. However, with the Bible being in Greek, this took off any claim that could be made that Hebrew is God's language.
Christianity comes along and makes things even worse. Christian scriptures are all written in Greek. The apostles who wrote wrote their epistles in Greek. The Apocalypse is in Greek. Even the Gospels and the Acts of the Apostles are written in Greek. All of a sudden, there's a new religion claiming to be in right standing with God which writes completely in Greek. However, there's a bigger catch to this. Jesus didn't speak Greek. Jesus spoke Aramaic. Traces of this can be seen even in the Gospels, especially in scenes where one of the Evangelists (John mostly) clarifies his words by saying "....meaning..." or "...that is to say..." Historical critical exegetes see these quotes as being evidence of the historical Jesus.
Now the Christian finds himself in an odd standpoint. His scriptures are in Greek, and, except for the fact that the canon was formed using the Septuagint, have some Hebrew origins, but their founder and the object of their worship spoke Aramaic. Thus we can see why above all the monotheistic faiths, Christianity puts the least emphasis on liturgical language. Aramaic, Greek, Latin, Arabic, Armenian, Coptic and Hindi were used for centuries as acceptable languages of the faith, with German, French and English developing as acceptable languages in the sixteenth century and all common languages being used today.
Islam enters the story about five hundred years after Christianity. However, the قورئن was handed down to Muhammed in Arabic as the very Word of God. Thus, there is no room for variance. To vary from Arabic in liturgy, or exegesis is to stray from God's actual word. Even the احدث are preserved in Arabic, though they are not official words spoken by the Angel Gabriel. Thus, in Islam, it is very clear that God's language is nothing other than Arabic.
This poses an interesting question and certainly a point for consideration. If so many theological points are untranslatable, how are we to expect all people to know them? Likewise, if God only speaks one language, are we to expect all men and women world-wide to learn this language? To take a passage out of the Bible, one which all three monotheistic faiths recognize, the tower of Babel story demonstrates to us the dangers that can arise when we all speak the same language. Had God wanted us to be able to communicate simply and universally with each other, perhaps it would have been better if our communication were limited to the moans and shrieks of whales, dolphins, dogs and cats. Thus, we are struck with the paradoxical question of "what language does God give preference for?" and likewise "if God had a preferential language, would not we all speak this?"
Labels:
Arabic,
Babel,
Christianity,
Greek,
Hebrew,
Islam,
Judaism,
language,
Latin,
monotheism
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
A product of our times?
Being as faithfully religious as I am, the question of the legitimacy of other faiths has occurred to me quite frequently. In fact, Alexa and I often discuss the ecumenical nature of faith, and the exact reason why I find Catholicism to be validated against this principle (Vatican II).
However, I would be remiss if I pondered these questions without asking the question: Are my beliefs truly as valid as I think that they are, or am I merely a product of Christianity's two thousand years of history and theology?
As it stands, that question is a very legitimate question, seeing as Christianity does only have two thousand years behind it and religion in general has been traced back at least five thousand years (and by the Old Testament standards, six thousand). If my beliefs about God become man only go back to the early Christians and theologians such as Athanasius, Origen, Jerome, Augustine and others, then what am I to say about those who lived before?
Not only that, but some of the most popular religions in the world predate Christianity by quite a long time. Buddhism has five hundred years on Christianity, while Hinduism has at least six hundred. Judaism can be traced at least another thousand years before Christ. Where does that leave those people? If we might state that the proof of Christianity's validity is in its longevity than what do we say about these faiths? Or what about Islam which is only six hundred years younger than Christianity?
Questions such as these give some people a reason to doubt their faith. Others claim that God did simply not reveal himself to these people. Some see other faiths as stumbling blocks and scandals in the way of Christianity (specifically those who read the Apocalypse of John literally).
However, I find my faith validated in various other places. As a bit of a Classics scholar, the Romans and Greeks fascinate me. Of course both of these nations worshiped a plethora of gods, and neither one of their religions have survived the test of time. But what seems peculiar to me is not their faith, but those who were not of their faiths.
One of my favorite philosophers of all time, Socrates, was accused of being an atheist. However, peculiarly, in nearly every dialogue I've ever read of his, he mentions deity, or Providence or some kind of reference to a God. Furthermore, in his Apology, Socrates talks at length about the spirit that always spoke to him. From a Christian perspective, a lot of Socrates' philosophy seems to mirror Christian thought (which is not surprising considering many of the Christian theologians and philosophers were trained in the Greek style). So I find some encouragement in Socrates' Christian-like thinking.
Furthermore, it seems to me that faiths such as Hinduism, Buddhism, Judaism and Islam started more or less as national faiths. Hinduism, Islam and Judaism all filled in religious vacuums in the cultures where they started. Buddhism came around in a Hindu setting, but it migrated East to more accepting climes. Christianity blossomed in the Jewish region of the Roman Empire. Christianity had to fight against two strong religions, and yet still grew, even when it became outlawed in the empire, and Christians were killed for sport.
So it is that I have faith in the Christian faith. By this I mean not only that I have faith in the guiding principles of Christianity and in the Divinity of Christ Jesus, but also in the faith itself. I believe that Christians can relearn to love. I believe that Christians can relearn to accept others who are different and reach out to those marginalized by society. I believe that Christians can help the poor, protest war, and stand as real witnesses of the love that God gave us. We preach Christ crucified. A doctrine whereby we profess that God's mercy and love were so great that he forgave us all our follies. As Christians and followers of this God, it is our duty to show that Christianity's strength lies not in the power of its followers, but in their love.
However, I would be remiss if I pondered these questions without asking the question: Are my beliefs truly as valid as I think that they are, or am I merely a product of Christianity's two thousand years of history and theology?
As it stands, that question is a very legitimate question, seeing as Christianity does only have two thousand years behind it and religion in general has been traced back at least five thousand years (and by the Old Testament standards, six thousand). If my beliefs about God become man only go back to the early Christians and theologians such as Athanasius, Origen, Jerome, Augustine and others, then what am I to say about those who lived before?
Not only that, but some of the most popular religions in the world predate Christianity by quite a long time. Buddhism has five hundred years on Christianity, while Hinduism has at least six hundred. Judaism can be traced at least another thousand years before Christ. Where does that leave those people? If we might state that the proof of Christianity's validity is in its longevity than what do we say about these faiths? Or what about Islam which is only six hundred years younger than Christianity?
Questions such as these give some people a reason to doubt their faith. Others claim that God did simply not reveal himself to these people. Some see other faiths as stumbling blocks and scandals in the way of Christianity (specifically those who read the Apocalypse of John literally).
However, I find my faith validated in various other places. As a bit of a Classics scholar, the Romans and Greeks fascinate me. Of course both of these nations worshiped a plethora of gods, and neither one of their religions have survived the test of time. But what seems peculiar to me is not their faith, but those who were not of their faiths.
One of my favorite philosophers of all time, Socrates, was accused of being an atheist. However, peculiarly, in nearly every dialogue I've ever read of his, he mentions deity, or Providence or some kind of reference to a God. Furthermore, in his Apology, Socrates talks at length about the spirit that always spoke to him. From a Christian perspective, a lot of Socrates' philosophy seems to mirror Christian thought (which is not surprising considering many of the Christian theologians and philosophers were trained in the Greek style). So I find some encouragement in Socrates' Christian-like thinking.
Furthermore, it seems to me that faiths such as Hinduism, Buddhism, Judaism and Islam started more or less as national faiths. Hinduism, Islam and Judaism all filled in religious vacuums in the cultures where they started. Buddhism came around in a Hindu setting, but it migrated East to more accepting climes. Christianity blossomed in the Jewish region of the Roman Empire. Christianity had to fight against two strong religions, and yet still grew, even when it became outlawed in the empire, and Christians were killed for sport.
So it is that I have faith in the Christian faith. By this I mean not only that I have faith in the guiding principles of Christianity and in the Divinity of Christ Jesus, but also in the faith itself. I believe that Christians can relearn to love. I believe that Christians can relearn to accept others who are different and reach out to those marginalized by society. I believe that Christians can help the poor, protest war, and stand as real witnesses of the love that God gave us. We preach Christ crucified. A doctrine whereby we profess that God's mercy and love were so great that he forgave us all our follies. As Christians and followers of this God, it is our duty to show that Christianity's strength lies not in the power of its followers, but in their love.
Labels:
Athanasius,
Buddhism,
Hinduism,
Islam,
Judaism,
love,
Socrates,
St Francis of Assisi
Friday, May 29, 2009
Anima Aeterna
So the thought occurred to me that one thing that most monotheistic faiths lack is a sense of the whatever comes before this life.
Of course that comes from the simple fact that as being travelers on this journey we call life,we are far more concerned with where we're going than where we're coming from. However, faiths such as Buddhism, Hinduism, and Mormonism all provide explanations of what has come before. Socrates provided an explanation, as well, as did Vergil in the Aeneid.
I have to wonder, then, why it is that Judaism, Christianity and Islam does not seem to put such emphasis on this facet of our faith.Truly, if we claim that the soul is eternal, per Aquinas, then we have to ask where we came from.
I suppose this is a good opportunity to examine the case for eternality. Does eternality mean an infinite amount of time on both sides? Is eternity more like a geometric line or a ray? Does something eternal have a beginning or has it always existed?
Suppose we say that something is eternal. Therefore, it necessarily has an infinite amount of existence. Thus, it will continue to exist forever and whether or not it was created seems irrelevent because it will always exist. However, if we say it will always exist, this is different than saying it does always exist. If something is created but will never cease to be created once it's created, then we can always measure how long something has been around. On the other hand, if something's existence goes back ad infinitum then we can never say how long it has been around.
What I'm trying to say is this: If everything that is has always existed in some sense, then our souls necessarily have always existed in some sense. But, if we believe that at some point everything was created, then our souls were created as well. Simply because Newtonian laws dictate that everything that is will always be in some form or another does not mean that it always has been.
Here's the conundrum: if our souls have not always been around, how can we be sure that they will always exist? And if they were not created at some point, how can we say that our God is all powerful?
Perhaps this is the reason why monotheism has never addressed this issue. Buddhists have no real concept of an all-powerful God, therefore omnipotence isn't an issue. Hindus have a group of gods that work in concert, but none of them are all powerful either. The gods of the Greeks and Romans were little more than super-powered human beings. And Mormons' concept of divinity rings like a combination of monotheism with the Olympian gods, by which method humans can become gods and God himself is limited in the heavens.
Thus, the idea of our souls existing since forever seems to be absent from those who believe in a god who has all power in the universe.
Of course that comes from the simple fact that as being travelers on this journey we call life,we are far more concerned with where we're going than where we're coming from. However, faiths such as Buddhism, Hinduism, and Mormonism all provide explanations of what has come before. Socrates provided an explanation, as well, as did Vergil in the Aeneid.
I have to wonder, then, why it is that Judaism, Christianity and Islam does not seem to put such emphasis on this facet of our faith.Truly, if we claim that the soul is eternal, per Aquinas, then we have to ask where we came from.
I suppose this is a good opportunity to examine the case for eternality. Does eternality mean an infinite amount of time on both sides? Is eternity more like a geometric line or a ray? Does something eternal have a beginning or has it always existed?
Suppose we say that something is eternal. Therefore, it necessarily has an infinite amount of existence. Thus, it will continue to exist forever and whether or not it was created seems irrelevent because it will always exist. However, if we say it will always exist, this is different than saying it does always exist. If something is created but will never cease to be created once it's created, then we can always measure how long something has been around. On the other hand, if something's existence goes back ad infinitum then we can never say how long it has been around.
What I'm trying to say is this: If everything that is has always existed in some sense, then our souls necessarily have always existed in some sense. But, if we believe that at some point everything was created, then our souls were created as well. Simply because Newtonian laws dictate that everything that is will always be in some form or another does not mean that it always has been.
Here's the conundrum: if our souls have not always been around, how can we be sure that they will always exist? And if they were not created at some point, how can we say that our God is all powerful?
Perhaps this is the reason why monotheism has never addressed this issue. Buddhists have no real concept of an all-powerful God, therefore omnipotence isn't an issue. Hindus have a group of gods that work in concert, but none of them are all powerful either. The gods of the Greeks and Romans were little more than super-powered human beings. And Mormons' concept of divinity rings like a combination of monotheism with the Olympian gods, by which method humans can become gods and God himself is limited in the heavens.
Thus, the idea of our souls existing since forever seems to be absent from those who believe in a god who has all power in the universe.
Labels:
Buddhism,
Christianity,
creation,
Hinduism,
Judaism,
Mormon,
Socrates,
Thomas Aquinas,
Vergil
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Friedrich Nietzsche
Over the last year, I have heard professors offer their opinions on who the movers and shakers of the intellectual, especially theological and philosophical, world are. Names such as Martin Luther, Soren Kierkegaard, Blaise Pascal, Karl Barth, John Calvin and others come up. However, I think the biggest person who influenced the shift in the theological world was Friedrich Nietzsche.
One must first understand all the things that happened before Nietzsche. In the three centuries preceding his life, the Christian world was rocked by the Protestant Reformation, the Scientific Revolution, the Enlightenment and various political revolutions, not least of which was the French Revolution. All of these events laid the groundwork for this German philosopher.
The first time I read Nietzsche I felt uneasy. He came off to me like a out-of-reach itch on one's back. It was there, and it was impossible to ignore, but it was hard to alleviate the irritation it caused. I remember that as I read him, I saw the logic and truth of a lot of his philosophical obeservations, up until he reached his conclusions. This I have found to be the greatest problem with Nietzsche--rather than fixing what many would term the social ills, he only exacerbates them.
Point in case: Nietzsche says that all men follow the will to power, therefore there is nothing which we should allow to stand in our ways on the path to power (a very Raskolnikov notion). Rather than seeing this terrible proposition and fleeing from it, society has embraced it. All means justify their ends. All terrible, destructive behaviors, so long as they provide good for the person performing the actions, are worth-while, no matter the cost physically, emotionally, morally, environmentally, spiritually, socially or economically.
Second point in case: Nietzsche says that Judaism and Christianity ruined traditional ethics and man must return to the "Aryan," conquering ideology of the Romans. Big, conglomerate corporations put small businesses out of work with no remorse. Certain countries, rather than striving for peaceful co-existence, force the surrender of their enemies through the possession of superior weaponry. Men abuse their wives and children if they think that their family members are "acting up."
Shouldn't preachers be preaching against this from the pulpit? Shouldn't they be discouraging the philosophies of a man who could very well be considered the antichrist? Shouldn't they be defending traditional Christian ethics? Shouldn't they defend Christianity's transformation of Eros? Shouldn't they discourage the will to power? Shouldn't they discourage the peasants from "dancing in the streets with satyr-like gyrations"?
Then comes the second attack from Nietzsche. Not only has he pervaded Christianity and shown that it is our true nature to be defunct, baseless creatures, but he has also declared, "God is dead, and we have killed him." He laughs at the believers. He openly tells us that the preachers and theologians are men who are trying to deny humans their true potential. And people have heard his cry. They have taken up the banner and chant in the streets that their is no God. They ask themselves, as Zarthustra questioned after speaking to the old prophet, "Can it truly be that this man has not heard the news that God is dead?" They preach against the Christians as a blight on humanity, much the way that Nietzsche has.
So there we have it. Those who proclaim themselves to be the Christians Nietzsche so violently hates are secretly his disciples. Those who proclaim his very words have still stuck to Christian ethics. The true disciple of Christ is becoming rarer and rarer, while the disciples of Nietzsche are ever amassing. So, despite the radical theological ideas of Bultmann, Reimarus, Aquinas, Zwingli, Schleiermacher, and von Balthasar, Nietzsche is the one to whom we should turn to discover the source of the modern world-view of theology and ethics.
One must first understand all the things that happened before Nietzsche. In the three centuries preceding his life, the Christian world was rocked by the Protestant Reformation, the Scientific Revolution, the Enlightenment and various political revolutions, not least of which was the French Revolution. All of these events laid the groundwork for this German philosopher.
The first time I read Nietzsche I felt uneasy. He came off to me like a out-of-reach itch on one's back. It was there, and it was impossible to ignore, but it was hard to alleviate the irritation it caused. I remember that as I read him, I saw the logic and truth of a lot of his philosophical obeservations, up until he reached his conclusions. This I have found to be the greatest problem with Nietzsche--rather than fixing what many would term the social ills, he only exacerbates them.
Point in case: Nietzsche says that all men follow the will to power, therefore there is nothing which we should allow to stand in our ways on the path to power (a very Raskolnikov notion). Rather than seeing this terrible proposition and fleeing from it, society has embraced it. All means justify their ends. All terrible, destructive behaviors, so long as they provide good for the person performing the actions, are worth-while, no matter the cost physically, emotionally, morally, environmentally, spiritually, socially or economically.
Second point in case: Nietzsche says that Judaism and Christianity ruined traditional ethics and man must return to the "Aryan," conquering ideology of the Romans. Big, conglomerate corporations put small businesses out of work with no remorse. Certain countries, rather than striving for peaceful co-existence, force the surrender of their enemies through the possession of superior weaponry. Men abuse their wives and children if they think that their family members are "acting up."
Shouldn't preachers be preaching against this from the pulpit? Shouldn't they be discouraging the philosophies of a man who could very well be considered the antichrist? Shouldn't they be defending traditional Christian ethics? Shouldn't they defend Christianity's transformation of Eros? Shouldn't they discourage the will to power? Shouldn't they discourage the peasants from "dancing in the streets with satyr-like gyrations"?
Then comes the second attack from Nietzsche. Not only has he pervaded Christianity and shown that it is our true nature to be defunct, baseless creatures, but he has also declared, "God is dead, and we have killed him." He laughs at the believers. He openly tells us that the preachers and theologians are men who are trying to deny humans their true potential. And people have heard his cry. They have taken up the banner and chant in the streets that their is no God. They ask themselves, as Zarthustra questioned after speaking to the old prophet, "Can it truly be that this man has not heard the news that God is dead?" They preach against the Christians as a blight on humanity, much the way that Nietzsche has.
So there we have it. Those who proclaim themselves to be the Christians Nietzsche so violently hates are secretly his disciples. Those who proclaim his very words have still stuck to Christian ethics. The true disciple of Christ is becoming rarer and rarer, while the disciples of Nietzsche are ever amassing. So, despite the radical theological ideas of Bultmann, Reimarus, Aquinas, Zwingli, Schleiermacher, and von Balthasar, Nietzsche is the one to whom we should turn to discover the source of the modern world-view of theology and ethics.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Quid Homo?
Several things recently have called me to ponder what it means to be human. Apparently this is Darwin's 200 year birthday and 150 year anniversary of his famous voyage on the HMS Beagle. And President Obama's visit to the Notre Dame campus to deliver a graduation speech called the issue of human life into question. Additionally, certain movies as of recent have made me ponder what it is to be human.
It seems that humans have always pondered our being. The writers of the Bible viewed humans as the culmination of God's creation, even as being in the image of God. Greek philosophers pondered what separates us from the animals via the virtues. The Hindus and Buddhists believed that the human form was the highest form our souls could take and the only one by which we could ascend to Nirvana. Jesus refers to God as our father. Athanasius says we are made in the image and likeness of God. Thomas Aquinas refers to man as the rational animal.
Today the question is even more relevant. Genetic research shows us that we are only separated from apes by a fraction of our DNA pattern. But beyond this, the ethical problems of science denote how we conceive of the human person. Stem cell research is highly controversial. Cloning is taboo and certain medical operations are viewed as wrong.
Despite all the efforts modern scientific thought uses to show that human kind is not special, it is clear that most people don't believe that. It is as Pope John Paul II said when he declared that the Darwinian formula does not account for the sacredness of human kind. We all believe, deep down inside of us, that human beings are something greater than bags of flesh. We strive to accomplish great feats. We seek to demonstrate our individuality, our uniqueness, our special essence that identifies us as being a separate specie of the human genus. We write books, paint portraits, film movies, build towers and monuments. We seek to know everything. We look to the skies and ponder the vastness of space. We look inside of us and ponder the human mind and body. We traverse the oceans, deserts, jungles and plains detailing the vegetation and animals we discover. We markedly separate ourselves from the rest of the animal kingdom by the vast intellectual, emotional, creative and spiritual quests we undertake.
It seems to me that most of humanity has conceived of humans as being composed of at least a soul and a body. The Greeks viewed the highest part of the soul, the Logos, as the part that lived on past life. The Romans viewed the Anima as separate from the Corpus and the Spiritus, and the part that makes us who we are. Christians view the body and soul as parts of a whole person. Buddhists and Hindus view bodies as temporal but our essence as existing afterward. Even today, we speak of perhaps being "spiritual" but not "religious."
Even in our horror we can note how the body and soul are necessary parts of the person. From time immemorial we have been frightened of disembodied spirits. Vampires, on the other hand, are soulless bodies. Other undead, such as Frankenstein's Monster, mummies and zombies are also soulless bodies. In traditional horror (as of late, horror has focused more on the grotesque and disordered rather than on the genuinely unholy) the villain has always been some unholy, fractured human.
However, lately, there seems to have been a question as to whether or not this is legitimate. Alasdair MacIntyre suggests that during the Englightenment we lost the idea of having a purpose, a telos, for our morals. However, the philosophers of that time failed to explain adequately why we would have universal laws. For all the trying, they never fully explained to what end humans are moving. Here I feel the famous pseudo-theologian C. S. Lewis' explanation of a natural law that denotes a God comes into play. All humans have inside of us a something that pushes us toward universal ends. We all have similar morals, similar goals, similar emotions for similar things. We all have souls that guide and direct us.
Thus, I have concluded that the human is not a simple body. We are not merely animals. We are not a rung on the ladder of evolution. We are the culmination of all things. We all have inside of us an essence, a great something that distinguishes us from every other creature. Our minds and thoughts, our drives and inklings, and our very selves are distinct and unique.
It seems that humans have always pondered our being. The writers of the Bible viewed humans as the culmination of God's creation, even as being in the image of God. Greek philosophers pondered what separates us from the animals via the virtues. The Hindus and Buddhists believed that the human form was the highest form our souls could take and the only one by which we could ascend to Nirvana. Jesus refers to God as our father. Athanasius says we are made in the image and likeness of God. Thomas Aquinas refers to man as the rational animal.
Today the question is even more relevant. Genetic research shows us that we are only separated from apes by a fraction of our DNA pattern. But beyond this, the ethical problems of science denote how we conceive of the human person. Stem cell research is highly controversial. Cloning is taboo and certain medical operations are viewed as wrong.
Despite all the efforts modern scientific thought uses to show that human kind is not special, it is clear that most people don't believe that. It is as Pope John Paul II said when he declared that the Darwinian formula does not account for the sacredness of human kind. We all believe, deep down inside of us, that human beings are something greater than bags of flesh. We strive to accomplish great feats. We seek to demonstrate our individuality, our uniqueness, our special essence that identifies us as being a separate specie of the human genus. We write books, paint portraits, film movies, build towers and monuments. We seek to know everything. We look to the skies and ponder the vastness of space. We look inside of us and ponder the human mind and body. We traverse the oceans, deserts, jungles and plains detailing the vegetation and animals we discover. We markedly separate ourselves from the rest of the animal kingdom by the vast intellectual, emotional, creative and spiritual quests we undertake.
It seems to me that most of humanity has conceived of humans as being composed of at least a soul and a body. The Greeks viewed the highest part of the soul, the Logos, as the part that lived on past life. The Romans viewed the Anima as separate from the Corpus and the Spiritus, and the part that makes us who we are. Christians view the body and soul as parts of a whole person. Buddhists and Hindus view bodies as temporal but our essence as existing afterward. Even today, we speak of perhaps being "spiritual" but not "religious."
Even in our horror we can note how the body and soul are necessary parts of the person. From time immemorial we have been frightened of disembodied spirits. Vampires, on the other hand, are soulless bodies. Other undead, such as Frankenstein's Monster, mummies and zombies are also soulless bodies. In traditional horror (as of late, horror has focused more on the grotesque and disordered rather than on the genuinely unholy) the villain has always been some unholy, fractured human.
However, lately, there seems to have been a question as to whether or not this is legitimate. Alasdair MacIntyre suggests that during the Englightenment we lost the idea of having a purpose, a telos, for our morals. However, the philosophers of that time failed to explain adequately why we would have universal laws. For all the trying, they never fully explained to what end humans are moving. Here I feel the famous pseudo-theologian C. S. Lewis' explanation of a natural law that denotes a God comes into play. All humans have inside of us a something that pushes us toward universal ends. We all have similar morals, similar goals, similar emotions for similar things. We all have souls that guide and direct us.
Thus, I have concluded that the human is not a simple body. We are not merely animals. We are not a rung on the ladder of evolution. We are the culmination of all things. We all have inside of us an essence, a great something that distinguishes us from every other creature. Our minds and thoughts, our drives and inklings, and our very selves are distinct and unique.
Labels:
Alasdair MacIntyre,
Body,
Buddhism,
C S Lewis,
Charles Darwin,
Christianity,
Hinduism,
Judaism,
science,
Soul
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Post mortem (Eschatology part 1)
I will first admit that I do not have any hidden knowledge about the "hereafter." Like a good Christian, I believe that there is a glorious afterlife in store for us as part of God's Grace. However, whether this will literally be in the clouds or rather some other, noncorporeal setting, I don't know.
What intrigues me, though, is that there have been so many different accounts of the afterlife. Dante presents a three leveled system that many Catholics hold to today. Many Christians today imagine "heaven" as a place in the clouds. Buddhists and Hindus believe in reincarnation--for the Buddhists until one reaches Nirvana. Muslims and Jews hold to a similar afterlife experience as Christians do, one in which we dwell with God. Mormons believe that eventually they may become like God (a topic for another day).
But we have not held on, for time imemorial, to the idea of a glorious and perfect dwelling with God. In the Old Testament, the afterlife is referred to as Sheol. Eventually, as seen in Luke 16:19-28, the idea that we could dwell with exalted relatives started to emerge. Similarly, in the ancient Greek and Roman system, the Elysian Fields came far after the idea of Hades.
There's where we run into the peculiar thing. For some reason, accounts of suffering and torture are more prominent in our ideas of the afterlife than of glory. The Egyptian Book of the Dead proscribes all sorts of punishments that can befall one's soul if one is not absolutely careful on the way to the underworld. Dante's Inferno is far more popular than Il Purgatorio or Il Paradiso. Even in Norse myth, the realm of Hel is solely devoted to punishing souls while the valiant only get a hall in the vast kingdom of Asgard.
From these facts I gather two observations. The first is that mankind has almost always believed in A) a soul and B) its eternality. Even in the most ancient Epic of Gilgamesh, an afterlife is described (though many scholars believe it to be an addendum to the original text). After we have finished our existence here, we go on to still exist. It is as if, like Pascal says, we are afraid of being hurled into non-existence. Man cannot bear the thought that at some future date he will not exist. Hence, we live our lives as if we will live forever. We amass fortunes that we can never spend. We put events off indefinitely. We trash our bodies as if they're indestructible. Man cannot bear to even dwell on the thought that there isn't something after this without falling into utter despair.
This is what confuses me about atheism. How can atheists really hope for becoming a nonentity? The greatest one can hope for, at that point, is to attain the kind of fame that men like Homer, Cicero, Socrates and Vergil have attained--fame that spans the eons. However, in a world with a population ove six billion, this is more of a pipe dream than any kind of reality. Really, our sole source of hope lies in having something to look forward to once this is done.
The second thing that I observe is that mankind assumes more often than not that he (or at least his enemies) will inherit an eternal punishment. Hell, Hades, Sheol, Hel, Outer Darkness or a lesser reincarnation--all of these stand as unfavorable destinies, some of which are unavoidable (most likely because we are corrupt and sinful) and others of which are inherited because of our infidelity. We get what we earn. For some reason, man cannot either escape the idea of being eternally punished, just as he cannot escape the idea of nonentity.
The implications of this problem are easy enough to solve. Catholicism (viz Vatican II), Buddhism, Hinduism, Mormonism (to a certain extent) and most ecumenically-minded people all agree that good works will grant you happiness in the hereafter. So, the logical conclusion would be to take on a two-fold effort: first, to conduct good works; and second, to follow Pascal's wager and have faith in a god.
What intrigues me, though, is that there have been so many different accounts of the afterlife. Dante presents a three leveled system that many Catholics hold to today. Many Christians today imagine "heaven" as a place in the clouds. Buddhists and Hindus believe in reincarnation--for the Buddhists until one reaches Nirvana. Muslims and Jews hold to a similar afterlife experience as Christians do, one in which we dwell with God. Mormons believe that eventually they may become like God (a topic for another day).
But we have not held on, for time imemorial, to the idea of a glorious and perfect dwelling with God. In the Old Testament, the afterlife is referred to as Sheol. Eventually, as seen in Luke 16:19-28, the idea that we could dwell with exalted relatives started to emerge. Similarly, in the ancient Greek and Roman system, the Elysian Fields came far after the idea of Hades.
There's where we run into the peculiar thing. For some reason, accounts of suffering and torture are more prominent in our ideas of the afterlife than of glory. The Egyptian Book of the Dead proscribes all sorts of punishments that can befall one's soul if one is not absolutely careful on the way to the underworld. Dante's Inferno is far more popular than Il Purgatorio or Il Paradiso. Even in Norse myth, the realm of Hel is solely devoted to punishing souls while the valiant only get a hall in the vast kingdom of Asgard.
From these facts I gather two observations. The first is that mankind has almost always believed in A) a soul and B) its eternality. Even in the most ancient Epic of Gilgamesh, an afterlife is described (though many scholars believe it to be an addendum to the original text). After we have finished our existence here, we go on to still exist. It is as if, like Pascal says, we are afraid of being hurled into non-existence. Man cannot bear the thought that at some future date he will not exist. Hence, we live our lives as if we will live forever. We amass fortunes that we can never spend. We put events off indefinitely. We trash our bodies as if they're indestructible. Man cannot bear to even dwell on the thought that there isn't something after this without falling into utter despair.
This is what confuses me about atheism. How can atheists really hope for becoming a nonentity? The greatest one can hope for, at that point, is to attain the kind of fame that men like Homer, Cicero, Socrates and Vergil have attained--fame that spans the eons. However, in a world with a population ove six billion, this is more of a pipe dream than any kind of reality. Really, our sole source of hope lies in having something to look forward to once this is done.
The second thing that I observe is that mankind assumes more often than not that he (or at least his enemies) will inherit an eternal punishment. Hell, Hades, Sheol, Hel, Outer Darkness or a lesser reincarnation--all of these stand as unfavorable destinies, some of which are unavoidable (most likely because we are corrupt and sinful) and others of which are inherited because of our infidelity. We get what we earn. For some reason, man cannot either escape the idea of being eternally punished, just as he cannot escape the idea of nonentity.
The implications of this problem are easy enough to solve. Catholicism (viz Vatican II), Buddhism, Hinduism, Mormonism (to a certain extent) and most ecumenically-minded people all agree that good works will grant you happiness in the hereafter. So, the logical conclusion would be to take on a two-fold effort: first, to conduct good works; and second, to follow Pascal's wager and have faith in a god.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)