What Is the Math of Spiritual Goods and Why Is The World Such a Deadly Place Without It?

In an increasingly materialistic and secular world, a deadly math has set up. It is deadly because it has rejected the spiritual math of God and of spiritual goods.

What is meant by “spiritual math”? It is a math that recalls that spiritual goods, in themselves, do not admit of division and subtraction, but only of multiplication and addition. Rather than diminishing, spiritual goods grow when shared. And this is a critical math never to forget.

This “strange,” spiritual math is announced in the opening moments of the Great Easter Vigil. During the Paschal Proclamation (more widely known as the Exsultet) comes a line that speaks to the reality of the Paschal candle, of a Church now ablaze with hundreds of smaller candles lit from it and held by worshipers:

A fire into many flames divided, yet never dimmed by sharing its light!

Yes, here is declared the divine economy, the mathematics of spiritual goods. The flame is divided but undimmed. This is a strange sort of division and subtraction; it’s not really division or subtraction at all, for nothing is lost and all is gained! We struggle for words to describe it. We speak of “division,” but really we experience something closer to distribution. And thus something “divided” becomes more, not less of what it is.

A modern analog of this insight is, “Hugs multiply when shared.”

As always, St. Thomas Aquinas expresses well this paradoxical math and the truth of spiritual goods:

Contrary to spiritual goods, material goods divide men because they cannot belong simultaneously and integrally to a number (Summa Theologica, IIIa q. 23 art. 1, ad 3um).

And he states the complementary truth, Spiritual truths can be possessed by many at the same time unlike material goods (Summa Theologica, IIa IIae q. 28 a. 4).

Fr. Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange comments on this same truth:

Therefore whereas the unbridled search for material goods profoundly divides men, the quest for spiritual goods unites them, and this union is all the more evident as we seek the superior spiritual goods. … When we give away money, we no longer possess it; when, on the contrary, we give God to souls, we do not lose him; rather we possess him the more (The Three Ages of the Interior Life, Vol 2, Tan Publications, p. 141).

Beware a culture that loses the insight of spiritual math and has only material math before it. Indeed, what happens to a culture that becomes almost wholly focused on material goods and at the same time denigrates and marginalizes spiritual goods? Well, using these insights of Fr. Lagrange, divisions increase, fears of diminution increase, and power struggles ensue. There emerges a constant dialectic of scarcity and competition. Fears of “the other” grow; they take shape in things like identity politics, fear of overpopulation, worry about unemployment, etc.

Never mind that people don’t only take from markets and resources; they also add to them by contributing labor and talent and by buying products and services. And even more, a materialistic culture ceases to appreciate the less-material human resources such as ingenuity, creativity, love, generosity, altruism, hope, laughter, faith, confidence, and companionship. These values and virtues are not only important of themselves, but, even though metaphysical, they affect the physical world by enlarging possibilities through discovery and creativity.

But never mind all that. The material world focuses only (and necessarily) on matter, which is a diminishable quantity.

And here is the danger: with no spiritual math to balance the physical math, fears, divisions, and conflicts increase. Yes, because we forget the math of more spiritual goods (where things increase by being shared), there is little to balance our fears and the conflicts and power struggles that come from them.

It is no accident that as atheistic and materialistic philosophies multiplied in the early 20th century, there erupted a level of violence, war, and struggle of unprecedented proportions. Two world wars killed tens of millions, countless other wars and conflicts (mainly rooted in the “Cold War”) claimed millions more, and as many as 200 million were killed at the hands of Mao, Stalin, Pohl Pot, and others. Abortion has killed hundreds of millions more. Repressive population policies in China and elsewhere (through UN-sponsored organizations) have also prevented life through contraception.

So much of this violence has occurred based on the mere math of the physical order, in which there are only diminishable quantities. It is a math that says that there’s not enough for both you and me. Neither is there enough room for both your views and mine, because then my view/group might have to share resources with you/yours. Therefore you must be minimalized, marginalized, and if necessary, encouraged to leave the planet.

The secularists like to state that “more have died in the name of religion than for any other cause.” It is hard to understand how they can maintain this conclusion after reading the history of the bloody 20th century, which accumulated death tolls unimaginable in prior centuries. And these deaths were by and large in the name of materialism, not religion.

To be fair, people have died for religious reasons, and in not insignificant numbers. But it was not because of spiritual goods per se, but rather through their being too tied to material goods. Princes, popes, and rulers too often had property and power tied up in religious realities. And religious truth was also very tied to the social order and the distribution of power.

This is why Jesus warned that the Son of Man had nowhere to lay His head. As such, He exemplified the danger of linking spiritual goods with temporal ones. In such settings, spiritual math is too easily swallowed up by material math.

As secular materialism spreads, so does its math of diminishing resources, the idea of the zero-sum game. In that sort of a world, you are my competitor, my enemy. When I forget spiritual goods like ingenuity and creativity, which can often overcome looming scarcities; when I discount other spiritual goods you bring to me such as companionship, artistic giftedness, faith, and the power of your prayer; then you are not just a threat to me—you are an unmitigated threat. Physical scales quickly tip in our minds when we forget that spiritual goods are in the balance and that they increase when shared.

But a secular word dismisses spiritual goods and thus ushers in a very dark fear. Welcome, then, to the culture of death: contraception, abortion, infanticide, physician-assisted suicide, punitive population policies, genocide, pogroms, eugenics, ethnic cleansing, and the selective abortion of “undesirable” children (the “wrong” sex or who have possible disabilities). The culture of death emerges in a secular, materialistic world where the only math is diminution.

Yes, death, the strangest therapy of all, becomes an increasingly widespread and supported policy in a material world bereft of the math of spiritual goods. And Dr. Death, a materialist through and through, is speaking to you and your children. He says,

“You are threat to me and mine. You use up what I might need. Meanwhile, you bring little or nothing to the zero-sum material world. You have to go, really. In fact, it’s too bad you ever existed at all. At least join me in making sure that many others never see the light of day.”

Beware the math of the material world, uninfluenced by the God’s math: the math of shared spiritual goods! The math of the material world is dark, dangerous, and deadly.

Humility is Hard – A Meditation on Some Aspects of Humility

080915

Pride is our most pervasive and serious sin; humility is its antidote and the foundation of our spiritual life. And as the remedy to our most deep-seated pathology, it must be strong medicine. Humility is hard to swallow and has a lot of things it needs to work on.

Let’s consider humility under a number of headings.

I. The Foundation of Humility – Indeed, humility as a foundation is a good image, since by it we bow toward the earth or soil (humus in Latin) and abase ourselves before God. Foundations and holes in the earth go together.

By humility we understand that we are small, poor, barely more than dust and water. If God does not scoop us from the earth, we are nothing. Only by His command is the mysterious spark and organizational principle of life ignited. We are wholly dependent on God; our life is contingent. We do not explain ourselves at all. We are dependent not only on our parents (who cannot explain themselves either), we are dependent on God’s purely gratuitous act of summoning us from dust. We are given existence by Him who is existence itself.

And we are given not merely existence, but something mysterious called “life.”

Think you have life figured out? Think you can define it? Hmm … Imagine before you an acorn and a small rock of similar size. One (the acorn) has the mysterious spark of life in it; the other does not. Plant both in the earth and add water. One transforms into a mighty oak; the other remains unchanged for thousands of years. What is the difference between the acorn and the rock? “Life,” you say. Well, tell me what that is. Can you weigh it in a scale? Can you see its essence under a microscope? We see life’s effects, but we do not see it. We detect its absence, but where has it gone? What exactly departs when a human, an animal, or a plant dies?

And thus humility, like a foundation, bids us to bow low to the earth and admit that we know very little. Even the most basic thing (life) that enables everything else eludes us and taunts us by its mystery.

II. The First Humility – When it comes to humility, we distinguish a humility toward God and a humility toward others. Humility toward God is simple (and first and foremost) because our duty in that regard is clear. There is no ambiguity in comparing ourselves to Him who is perfection, glory, and purity.

Humility toward others, though, has ambiguities that can only be resolved by reference to God. For not everything in another person is superior to us; not everything in others is perfect truth or purity.

But indeed, our first humility is toward God. And by it we recognize that we are nothing without Him. But even more, no good work of ours, not even the slightest salutary act, can happen without the grace of God. This is the first humility.

III. The Finding of Humility – Humility also recognizes that neither do we have meaning, direction or purpose apart from God. And thus we must look to the Book of Creation and the Book of Scripture, the Word of God, to discover and obey the truth and meaning given by God in what is created and what is revealed.

Atheists and materialists boldly assert that nothing has meaning, purpose, direction, or sense. They hold that everything that has happened is by chance, a random, meaningless crashing together of atoms (wherever they came from). But even atheists cannot seem to accept or live by their radical theory. Only one of them, Nietzsche, was ever “brave” enough to really live in a meaningless world. And he died insane.

But for us who would seek for humility, we must sit before what God has created and what God has revealed in Scripture, humbly observing, learning, and obeying what God teaches us there. We do not simply project meaning; we must humbly seek it, find it, and obey the truth and meaning of things.

IV. The Frank Truth of Humility – Humility also admits the frank and obvious truth that we are sinners. We have base, selfish, and narrow hearts that are strangely attracted by what we know is harmful and resistant to what we know is good. Our wills are inconsistent, vacillating, whimsical, and yet at the same time stubborn. We tend to maximize the minimum and minimize the maximum. Our darkened minds seem almost to prefer foolish and dubious explanations to what is clear, common sense, and obviously true. We almost seem to want others to lie to us. We love to rationalize and daydream. Knowing a little we think we know it all. Frankly, we are a mess. We are only saved with difficulty and because God is powerful, patient, and abundant in grace and mercy.

V. The Fellowship of Humility – St. Thomas Aquinas says quite poetically, “Wherefore, every man, in respect to what is his own, should subject himself to every neighbor in respect to what the neighbor has of God’s” (Summa Theologica IIa IIae 161, a 3). For indeed, our neighbor has many things from God that are to be respected. They have things which we share, but also many things that we do not have at all. I do not have all the gifts; you do not have all the gifts; but together we have all the gifts. But we have them all only by mutual respect and humble submission. And thus our humility toward others is really humility toward God, who wills that others should be part of His governance of us, and of our completion.

But note, too, a careful distinction that flows from what St. Thomas teaches in regard to humility toward others. It is not to be reduced to mere human respect or flattery, or rooted in worldly and servile fear. True humility has us abase ourselves before others based on what is of God in them. The humble person does not abase himself before others for what is wicked in them. Indeed, many holy and humble people have had to rebuke the wicked and suffer because of it.

Consider our Lord, who found it necessary to rebuke the leaders of His day. Consider John the Baptist, who rebuked Herod; or the Apostles, who refused the command to speak Jesus’ name no longer. These were humble men, but they also knew that the first humility belongs to God, and that no humility toward human beings can ever eclipse or overrule the humility due to God.

Therefore the modern notion of “Who am I to judge?” is not proper humility. Rather, it is rooted more in a kind of sloth (cloaked in the self-congratulatory language of tolerance) that avoids humbly seeking truth and being conformed to it. The truly humble person is open to correcting others and to being corrected, because humility always regards the truth.

VI. The Focus of Humility – And that lead us finally to a kind of focal statement about humility: “Humility is reverence for the truth about ourselves.” Indeed, the focus of humility is always the truth.

And what is the truth? You are gifted, but incomplete.

Humility doesn’t say, “Aw shucks, I’m nothing.” That is not true. You are God’s creation and are imbued with gifts. But note this: they are gifts. You did not acquire them on your own. God gave them to you. And most often, He gave them to you through others who raised you, taught you, and helped you to attain the skills and discover the gifts that were within you. So you do have gifts. But they are gifts. Scripture says, What have you that you have not received? And if you have received, why do you glory as though you had not received? (1 Cor 4:7)

But though you are gifted, you do not have all the gifts. And this is the other truth of humility: that God and others must augment your many deficiencies. For whatever your gifts, and however numerous they are, you do not have all the gifts or even most of them. That is only possible in relationship with God and His people.

Ok, admit it, true humility is tough. And if you don’t think so, then try the test below from St. Anselm, who lists seven degrees of humility. How far along are you?

Here are St. Anselm’s degrees of humility (as quoted in the Summa Theologica IIa IIae q. 161a. 6):

1. to acknowledge oneself contemptible,

2. to grieve on account of it,

3. to confess it,

4. to convince others to believe this,

5. to bear patiently that this be said of us,

6. to suffer oneself to be treated with contempt, and

7. to love being thus treated

In this video do you think that Lancelot might be struggling just a bit with pride?

Faith or Famine – A Homily for the 19th Sunday of the Year

Blog 8-8-2015

08082015

The gospel today amounts to a summons to faith by Jesus. In particular, He is summoning us to faith in Him and in the truth He proclaims about His presence in the Holy Eucharist. Last week’s gospel ended with Jesus declaring that He is the bread that has come down from Heaven. Today’s gospel opens with the Jewish listeners grumbling about Jesus’ claim to have come from Heaven. Throughout the gospel, Jesus stands firm in His call to faith. He teaches them about the necessity of faith, its origins, and its fruits. Let’s learn of what the Lord teaches us in four stages.

I. The Focus of Faith – The gospel opens with the grumbling of the crowds, since Jesus claims to have come from Heaven: The Jews murmured about Jesus because he said, “I am the bread that came down from heaven,” and they said, “Is this not Jesus, the son of Joseph? Do we not know his father and mother? Then how can he say, ‘I have come down from heaven’?”

Their lack of faith is a scandal. It also shifts our focus to the need for faith and yet how difficult it is to have faith. Both the scandal and the difficulty are illustrated in the background to the crowd’s lack of faith.

First, recall that Jesus had just fed over 20,000 people with five loaves and two fishes, and there were still 12 baskets full of leftovers. It was this very miracle that caused many of them to follow Him when He went to the other side of the lake. All the miracles Jesus worked were meant to summon people to faith and to provide evidence for the truth of His words. Jesus said elsewhere, … for the works which the Father has granted me to accomplish, these very works which I am doing, bear me witness that the Father has sent me (John 5:36).

Thus their lack of faith, their grumbling and murmuring, was scandalous. The multiplication of the loaves and fishes was not the first miracle he had worked, nor would it be the last. Recall that he had also

changed water into wine, healed lepers, healed the centurion’s servant, cast out numerous demons, healed the lame, healed the woman with the hemorrhage, raised Jairus’ daughter, cast out blindness in numerous individuals (one of them blind since birth), cured the man with a withered hand, walked on the water, calmed storms at sea, fed 4000, fed 5000, healed the deaf and mute, caused miraculous catches of fish, raised the widow’s son, and raised Lazarus.

So the question is, what are they (we) going to focus on? What Jesus does, or where he’s from? It seems clear that they are more focused on His human origins: where He is from and who His human kin are.

Similarly, many today seem focused on the human dimensions of the Church, or the foibles of believers, or even on their own personal struggles. How many put their focus on what God is doing, or on the many daily miracles of simple existence, or on the many ways that even defeats become victories?

Where your focus? On mere human things? But what if the focus is on God, and that God is worthy? Is faith your focus? We can see why Jesus focuses on faith, because, frankly, we are a hard case and our faith needs to grow.

II. The Font of Faith – Noting their lack of faith, Jesus rebukes them in these words: Stop murmuring among yourselves. No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him, and I will raise him on the last day. It is written in the prophets: They shall all be taught by God. Everyone who listens to my Father and learns from him comes to me.

Jesus here teaches two things: that our faith in Him comes from the Father, and that we are a hard case.

First, Jesus teaches that His Father is the source of our faith in Him. Scripture elsewhere teaches this truth.

  1. For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God (Eph 2:8).
  2. This is my beloved son, listen to him (Matt 3:17).
  3. But the testimony which I have is greater than that of John; for the works which the Father has granted me to accomplish, these very works which I am doing, bear me witness that the Father has sent me. 37 And the Father who sent me has himself borne witness to me (John 5:36).
  4. I bear witness to myself, and the Father who sent me bears witness to me (John 8:18).

Here, then, is the central work of the Father: to save us by drawing us to faith in His Son, whom He sent to redeem the world.

But Jesus also teaches that this work of God generally involves dealing with considerable resistance on our part. And this fact is evident in the wording that Jesus uses, namely, that the Father must “draw” us to the Son. The Greek word here is ἑλκύσῃ (helkuse), which means to drag, draw, pull, or persuade; it always implies some kind of resistance from what is being drawn or dragged. For example, this is also the word used in John 21:6 when describing drawing a heavily laden net to shore.

Thus Jesus points to their (our) stubbornness in coming to faith. We are stubborn and stiff-necked, so the Father has to exert effort in order to draw—yes, even drag—us to Jesus.

Yes, we’re a hard case and we have to be “drug.”  Someone once said,

I had a drug problem when I was young: I was drug to church on Sunday morning. I was drug to church for weddings and funerals. I was drug to family reunions and community socials no matter the weather. I was drug by my ears when I was disrespectful to adults. I was also drug to the woodshed when I disobeyed my parents, told a lie, brought home a bad report card, did not speak with respect, or spoke ill of the teacher or the preacher. Or if I didn’t put forth my best effort in everything that was asked of me. I was drug to the kitchen sink to have my mouth washed out with soap if I uttered a profane four-letter word. I was drug out to pull weeds in mom’s garden and flower beds and to do my chores. I was drug to the homes of family, friends, and neighbors to help out some poor soul who had no one to mow the yard, repair the clothesline, or chop some firewood. And if my mother had ever known that I took a single dime as a tip for this kindness, she would have drug me back to the wood shed. Those drugs are still in my veins and they affect my behavior in everything I do, say, and think. They are stronger than cocaine, crack, or heroin, and if today’s children had this kind of drug problem, America might be a better place today.

III. The Functioning and Fruit of Faith – Jesus goes on to teach about how faith functions and what its fruit is: Amen, amen, I say to you, whoever believes has eternal life.

First, as regards the functioning of faith, the Greek text is more clear than our English translation. The Greek word here for “believes” is πιστεύων (pisteuon), a present, active participle. This construction signifies an ongoing action and is better translated as “He who goes on believing …” or “He who is believing …”

The danger is that we reduce faith to an event or to an act. Thus, some say that they answered an altar call, others point to their baptism. Good. But what is going on now, today? What is prescribed here by the Lord is lasting, ongoing faith. It is a lasting faith because faith is more than an event; it is an ongoing reality. It is more than something you have; it is something you do, daily. It involves leaning on and trusting in God. It is basing our whole life on His Word, the daily obedience of faith.

Scripture says elsewhere of this ongoing necessity for faith,

  1. But you must hold fast to faith, be firmly grounded and steadfast in it. Unshaken in the hope promised you by the gospel you have heard (Col 1:21ff).
  2. Brethren I want to remind you of the gospel I preached to you, which you received and in which you stand firm. You are being saved by it at this very moment provided you hold fast to it as I preached it to you. Otherwise you have believed in vain (1 Cor 15:1).
  3. He who perseveres to the end will be saved (Matt 24:13).

Jesus, having taught of the ongoing quality of faith, also speaks of its fruit, which is “eternal life.” Here, too, we have to move beyond reductionist notions of what is meant by eternal life.

The Christian use of the word “eternal” does not refer only to the length of life but also to its fullness. The Greek word here that is translated as “eternal” is αἰώνιος (aionios–where we get the English word Aeon). And aiṓnios, according the Greek lexicon of Scripture, does not focus on the future per se, but rather on the quality of the age. 

Note, too, that the Greek word translated here as “has” is ἔχει (echei) and is a present, indicative, active verb. Thus, it does not refer only to something that we will have, but something that we now have. So believers live in “eternal life” right now, experiencing this quality of God’s life now, as a present possession. And while we do not now enjoy it fully, as we will in Heaven, we do have it now and it is growing within us.

Thus, Jesus teaches that the believer enjoys the fullness of life, even now, in a growing way, day by day. One day we, too, will enjoy the fullness of life, to the top, in Heaven.

Here then is Jesus’ teaching on the functioning of faith (its ongoing quality) and the fruit of faith (eternal life, i.e., the fullness of life).

IV. The Food of Faith – Having set forth the necessity of faith, Jesus now prepares to turn up the heat a bit and test their faith. Not only has he come from Heaven, but He is Bread that they must eat; and the bread is His flesh. He says to them, Your ancestors ate the manna in the desert, but they died, but this is the bread that comes down from heaven so that one may eat it and not die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world.

Now this final verse points to next week’s Gospel, in which this concept will be developed more fully and graphically. But in effect, having warned them of the necessity of faith, Jesus now points to one of His most essential teachings: the Holy Eucharist, the Sacrament of His Body and Blood.

Without faith, they (we) can neither grasp nor accept this teaching. And, as we shall see next week, most of them turned away from Him and would no longer follow Him, because they could not accept what He was saying. They did not have the faith to trust Him in this matter; they scoffed and left Him. We will discuss this more fully next week as John 6 continues to unfold for us.

But for now let the Lord ask you, “Do you have faith to believe what I teach you on this?” Perhaps we can say, with the centurion, “I do believe; help my unbelief.” Or we can join with the Apostles, who said, “Increase our faith!” Or we can say with St. Thomas Aquinas,

Visus, tactus, gustus in te fallitur (sight, touch, and taste, in thee fail)
Sed auditu solo tuto creditur. (But only the hearing is safely believed.)
Credo quidquid dixit Dei Filius; (I believe whatever the Son of God says.)
Nil hoc verbo veritátis verius. (Nothing is more true than this word of truth.)

But in the end, either we will have faith or we will be famished. Either we will have the faith to approach the Lord’s table or we will go unfed. Jesus says later, Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his Blood, you have no life in you (John 6:53). In other words, we starve spiritually without the faith that brings us to God’s table.

Behold how few come to the Lord’s table in these times, in these days which so lack in faith. It is estimated that only 27% of American Catholics today go to Mass. If we have faith in the Eucharist, how can we stay away? We cannot. To the degree that we believe, we will not miss a Sunday Mass; our devotion to the Lord will increase daily and our experience of the fullness of life (eternal life) will grow.

It’s either faith or famine. Do you believe?

A Humorous Look at Vanity, As Seen in a Commercial

08052015

Most people associate the word “vanity” with excessive concern or pride in one’s appearance, or sometimes with some other personal quality. But at its root the word “vanity” refers to emptiness. To say that someone is “vain” is to say that he or she is empty or lacking in meaning, depth, or substance.

It makes sense that people get worked up about externals when there isn’t much happening on the inside. And thus it makes sense that we connect emptiness (vanity) with excessive show.

There are lots of expressions that enshrine this connection:

All form and no substance
That Texan is all hat and no cattle
All bark and no bite
All booster, no payload
All foam, no beer
All sizzle and no steak
All talk and no action
Show me the money

The Wisdom Tradition in the Bible, especially the Book of Ecclesiastes, speaks of vanity at great length. And there the word tends to refer to the ultimate futility of whatever this world offers, to the fact that the world is ultimately empty and vacuous.

Then I considered all that my hands had done and the toil I had expended in doing it, and behold, all was vanity and a striving after wind, and there was nothing to be gained under the sun (Eccl 2:11).
He who loves money will not be satisfied with money, nor he who loves wealth with his income; this also is vanity (Eccl 5:10).

And thus the world, which so mesmerizes our senses, shows itself ultimately to be empty of power or any lasting substance.

We have here, no lasting city (Heb 13:14).

As for man, his days are like grass: or as the flower of the field. Behold, he flourishes. But the wind blows and he is gone; and his place never sees him again (Ps 103:15-16).

I thought of these notions of vanity when I saw this very funny commercial. It shows a man concerned only with his appearance. Actually, he is even more vain than that! It is how he smells that concerns him (this is an Old Spice commercial). He is so vapid, so vain, that even if he doesn’t look good, at least he smells like someone who looks good!

As he moves through the scenes of the commercial he becomes increasingly devoid of substance (literally)!

Symbolically we can see him as the vain person who goes through life carelessly, paying no attention to the way in which the world, the desires of the flesh, and the devil strike at and eat away at him. But again, never mind all that, at least he smells like someone who looks good! His only real substance is to be lighter than air, a whiff. It is form over substance, impression over reality. It is empty show; it is vanity on steroids.

Here is a humorous look at vanity, a vanity so vain that it exists even beyond appearance and extends into the vapid, vacuous, and vaporous vanity of merely “smelling like someone who looks good.” A remarkable portrait of the empty show that vanity ultimately is. Enjoy!

Do You Mind? – A Reflection on a Recent Study on the Effects of Television on the Mind

08052015A recent article by Mark Pattison of Catholic News Service summarizes a recent study that shows how too much television is detrimental to the life of the mind. Common sense has known this for years (after all, it is called the “boob tube”). But we moderns love our empirical data, and now the results are coming in from studies conducted over the past several decades.

But it is more than the content of television that is the problem. Being sedentary (typical during television viewing) is also a problem. A sedentary lifestyle is bad for the body in general, and since the brain is part of the body, it is negatively affected as well. I would also argue that the medium of television itself has a deleterious effect on our ability to think and especially on our concentration.

Here are a few excerpts from the CNS article:

[A]study, whose preliminary results were issued in July, suggests that the more TV you watch, the more likely you are to get Alzheimer’s disease. …

The study—which for 25 years has tracked 3,247 people whose ages at the start ranged from 18 to 30—investigated the association between sedentary lifestyles, cognitive performance, and the risk of developing dementia. …

The researchers’ conclusion: “Long-term patterns of low physical activity and high television viewing in early adulthood were associated with worse midlife executive function and processing speed (two cognitive function tests). These risk behaviors may be critical targets for prevention of cognitive aging. … This is something you can do something about,” Yaffe said. Her prescription: change your lifestyle and thus lower your risk. In other words, stop watching so much of the tube.

Notice that the problem isn’t just Alzheimer’s disease, but “worse midlife executive function and processing speed.” In other words, too much TV rots your brain.

Some years ago it was popular to say regarding television, “It’s not the medium, it’s the message.” And the point of this expression was to say that TV could be used for good purposes. Fair enough. But I would argue that to some degree it is also the medium of TV itself that causes harm.

That flickering blue light, combined with almost complete passivity on the part of the viewer, can harm the life of the mind. I would argue that this occurs in the following ways:

  1. Reduced attention span – The constant flickering of the picture is bad enough, but the “seven second rule” seals the deal. The “seven second rule” refers to the idea that the content of the picture must change at least every seven seconds in order to keep the viewer’s attention. Thus, even when you are watching an interview, something about the picture is supposed to change at least every seven seconds. Maybe it’s the angle of the picture that changes, or perhaps the focus of the camera shifts to a different person; maybe there’s a cutaway shot, or the appearance of some sort of pop-up box. But constant change and movement is the norm for TV and cinematography.

This, of course, is not real life. When there is a steady diet of flickering light, and a diversion of some sort every seven seconds, one’s attention span is reduced. Navigating real life, staying focused in real conversations, and performing tasks that require focus all become more challenging. I think a lot of the ADHD that is “diagnosed” today actually goes back to a steady diet of TV and rapid-pace video games.

  1. Passivity of the viewer – At least with reading, one has to use the imagination and engage in some sort of discipline. Reading also helps one learn how to spell and how to write well. Even with radio, the imagination is still engaged and one is not necessarily glued to a stationary box in the room. Television, however, encourages complete passivity. I cannot tell you a thing I am supposed to do after I turn it on except to let my jaw hang open and my eyes grow glassy.

I will grant that TV can do a good job of bringing sight, sound, and learning together. I can learn a lot much more quickly by watching an episode of “How it’s Made” on the Science Channel than if I were to try to read about the procedures. Still, I would argue that too much of this sort of learning can be harmful. Such learning can be a thousand miles wide but only two inches deep. More often, TV is a lousy medium when it comes to provoking further or deeper thought. Learning how it’s made is great, but TV would not have me ponder why it’s made or what it means. There’s no time for that; it’s off to commercials and then on to the next show. And so we know less and less about more and more.

  1. Frequent channel flipping – When we are bored, or when a commercial comes on, there’s no need to worry, just flip the channel. But again, this is poor preparation for life, which does not admit of such simple and selfish decisions. Thus, in a variation on the attention span problem, we grow impatient quickly when life does not please us for even a few moments. But in real life flipping the channel is not possible, so we tune out in other ways or even become resentful at something longer than a sound bite.
  2. A big time-waster – Many people who watch TV in the evening get drawn into watching more and more of it. Before they realize it, they’ve been sitting in front of the tube for nearly two hours. People often fail to get enough sleep because of television. Many others do not stay in touch with family or attend to other duties because television watching consumes so much of their time. People often ask me how I am able to write so much. Well, one reason is that I don’t watch much TV. Having the time to write is obviously essential. I also read a lot. Reading helps you to write because you’re learning from others who write. But TV can kill the clock for better things like reading, writing, conversing, and the like.

The study goes on to state two other problems associated with watching too much television, both of which are pretty much common sense:

DissociationPrevious research has shown that people who watch a lot of TV tend to grow disassociated from the reality happening outside their front door.

Fear and avoidanceAnd TV watchers who focus their viewing on the news tend to not want to associate with the world outside their door because they’ve acquired the sense that the world—as shown by the if-it-bleeds-it-leads mentality of TV news directors everywhere—is not a safe place.

I stopped watching the 24/7 news channels some time ago for this reason. I got tired of the “Breaking News!” mentality. They were always trying to create an urgency around things that were not that urgent. I also became convinced that I was being “played.” News agencies and the entities that feed them have gotten very sophisticated at “selling” news and generating issues. I realize that being informed is important, but I have grown far more careful about whom I permit to inform me. These days I look to less sensational ways of collecting and discerning the news.

OK, I usually write on matters of the spiritual life, Scripture, Church teaching, and culture as it relates to the life of faith. Perhaps this post is a slight diversion from my usual fare. But it does involve the life of the mind. And the mind is our most precious gift. We do well to attend to the life of the mind, for the grace of faith builds on nature. Treat your mind well: turn off the tube and read a book!

Oh, and read my blog, too!

 

A Simple but Powerful Definition of Prayer

08052015I have read many definitions of prayer, and I am especially fond of St Therese’s description.

But one of the nicest and briefest descriptions of prayer that I have read comes from Dr. Ralph Martin in his book The Fulfillment of All Desire. Dr. Martin says beautifully, in a way that is succinct and yet comprehensive and inclusive of diverse expression,

Prayer is, at root, simply paying attention to God (p. 121).

Such a wonderful image: paying attention to God. Imagine that, actually paying attention to God! So simple, yet so often overlooked.

More traditionally, I have heard prayer defined as “conversation with God.” True enough, and well attested. But to me, this definition seems to shed less light on its meaning. While most people easily grasp the “talking” part of conversation, fewer are able to appreciate the “listening” part. And thus there can be a lot of emphasis on recited prayers, intercessory prayers, etc. These are all good in themselves—even required—but when and how does one listen?

One could theoretically recite long prayers, but in the end pay little attention to God. This is not usually due to malicious or prideful motives, but rather to the fact that our minds are weak. And thus the “conversation” definition has its pitfalls and limits.

How different it is to go to prayer saying, “I am going to go aside now and spend some time paying attention to God. I am going to sit still and listen while he speaks. I am going to think about His glory, rejoice in His truth, and ponder His presence as deeply as I can.”

Paying attention to God can take many forms. One outstanding way is through the slow, thoughtful, and deliberate reading of Scripture called lectio divina. We are not merely reading a text; we are listening to God speak; we are paying attention to what He says. And as we listen, as we pay attention to Him, our minds begin to change, and the Mind of Christ becomes our gift.

Another preeminent way of paying attention to God is through Eucharistic Adoration: a thoughtful, attentive, and loving look to the Lord as our thoughts gently move to Him, and His loving look returns often wordless but powerful presence.

Further, in authentic and approved spiritual reading we pay attention to God in a way that is mediated through His Saints, mystics, and other reputable sources. Good, wholesome, and approved spiritual reading presents to us the Kingdom of God, His Wisdom, and His vision. And in carefully considering holy teaching, we are paying attention to God.

And of course the highest form of paying attention to God is attending to Him in the Sacred Liturgy, experiencing His presence and power, listening to His Word proclaimed thoughtfully and reflectively, attending to His presence on the sacred altar, and receiving Him with attentiveness and devotion.

Throughout the day there are countless ways that we can take a moment and pay attention to God: momentary aspirations, a quick thought sent heavenward, or a look of love.

I will say no more here. For so much is beautifully and simply conveyed in these words: Prayer is, at root, simply paying attention to God.

Which Do You Prefer: Melons and Leeks, or the Bread of Heaven?

blog8-4 - babyThe first reading for daily Mass on Monday (18th week of the year) was taken from the Book of Numbers. It features the Israelites grumbling about the manna in the wilderness:

Would that we had meat for food! We remember the fish we used to eat without cost in Egypt, and the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic. But now we are famished; we see nothing before us but this manna (Numbers 11:4-5).

While it is possible for us to marvel at their insolence and ingratitude, the scene presented depicts very common human tendencies. It is not unique to these people once in the desert. Their complaints are too easily our own.

Let’s look at a number of the issues raised and see how it is possible for many of us today to struggle in the same way.

I. They prefer the abundance of food and creature comforts that come along with slavery in Egypt, to the freedom of children of God and the chance to journey to the Promised Land. And this, too easily, is our struggle as well. Jesus points to the Cross, but we prefer the pillow. Heaven is a nice thought, but it is in the future and the journey is a long one.

Too easily we prefer our own version of melons and leeks. Perhaps it is possessions, or power, or popularity. Never mind that the price of them is a kind of bondage to the world and its demands. For when the world grants its blessings, we become enslaved by the fact that we have too much to lose. Hence we will compromise our freedom, which Christ died to purchase for us, and enter into a kind of bondage of sin. We will buy into lies, or commit any number of sins, or perhaps suppress the truth, all in an attempt to stay popular and well-connected. Why? Because we have become so desperate for the world’s blessings that we will make compromises that harm our integrity or hurt other people just to get those things we think we can’t live without.

But we don’t call it bondage. We call it being “relevant,” “modern,” “tolerant,” and “compassionate.”  Yes, as we descend into deeper darkness and bondage to sin and our passions, we are pressured to call it “enlightenment,” “choice,” and “freedom.” So, we use other terms, but it is still bondage for the many who fear breaking free from it.

We are in bondage to Egypt, enslaved to Pharaoh. We prefer that to the freedom of the desert, with its difficult journey to a Promised Land (Heaven) we have not yet fully seen. The pleasures of the world, its melons and leeks, are currently displayed and available for immediate enjoyment.

And so the cry still goes up: “Give us melons; give us leeks; give us cucumbers and fleshpots! Away with the desert; away with the Cross; away with the Promised Land, if it exists at all. It is too far off and too hard to get to. Melons and leeks, please. Give us meat; we are tired of manna!”

II. There is boredom with the manna. While its exact composition is mysterious to us, it would seem that manna could be collected, kneaded like dough, and baked like bread. But as such, it was a fairly plain substance. It seems it was meant more to sustain than to be enjoyed.

The people remembered the melons, leeks, and fleshpots of Egypt, and were bored with this plain manna. Never mind that it was miraculously provided every day by God, in just the right quantity. Even miracles can seem boring after a while to our petulantly demanding desires. The Lord may show us miracles today, but too easily do we demand even more tomorrow.

We are also somewhat like little children who prefer Twinkies and cupcakes to vegetables and other more wholesome foods. Indeed, the Israelites’ boredom with and even repulsion to the miracle food from Heaven does not sound so different from the complaint of many Catholics today that “Mass is boring.”

While it is certainly true that we can work to ensure that the Liturgy reflects the glory it offers, it is also true that God has a fairly stable and consistent diet for us. He exhorts us to stay faithful to the manna: the wholesome food of prayer, Scripture, the Sacraments, and stable, faithful fellowship in union with the Church.

In our fickle spirits, many of us run after the latest fads and movements. Many Catholics say, “Why can’t we be more like the mega-churches with all the latest, including a Starbucks Coffee Café, contemporary music, a rock-star-like pastor delivering sensitive, toned-down preaching with many promises and few demands, and all that jazz?”

But as an old spiritual says regarding this type of person, “Some go to church for to sing and shout, before six months they’s all turned out!” And thus some will leave the Catholic Church and other traditional forms that feature the more routine but stable and steady manner, for the hip and the latest, the melons and leeks. But frequently they find that within six months they’re bored again.

And while the Church is always in need of reform, there is a lot to be said for the slow and steady pace as she journeys through the desert, relying on the less glamorous but more stable and sensible food: the manna of the Eucharist, the Word of God, the Sacred Liturgy, prayer, and fellowship.

III. Who Feeds You? Beyond these liturgical preferences of many for melons and leeks over manna, there is also a manifest preference for the food of this world. There is a tragic tendency for many Catholics, even regular church-goers, to get most of their food not from the Lord, not from Scripture, not from the Church, but from the Egypt of this world.

Most eat regularly at the banquet table of popular entertainment, secular news media, secular talk radio, etc. And they eat this food quite uncritically! The manna is complained about, but the melons and leeks are praised without qualification.

And while it is true that Christians cannot wholly avoid all contact with the world or eschew all its food, when do the melons and leeks ever come up for criticism? When do Christians finally look closely and say, “That is not the mind of God!” When do they ever conclude that this food is inferior to what God offers? When do parents finally walk into the living room, turn off the TV, and tell their children that what they have just seen and heard is not the mind of God?

Tragically, this is rare. The food of this world is eaten in amounts far surpassing the consumption of the food of God. The melons and leeks of the world are praised, while the manna of God is put on trial because it’s not like the food of the world.

For a Christian, of course, this is backwards. The world should be on trial based on the Word of God. Instead, even for most Catholics, the Word of God and the teachings of the Church are on trial by the standards of the world.

So the question is, who is it that feeds you? Is it the world or the Lord? What proportion of your food comes from the Lord and what from the world? Answer honestly! Which is more influential in your daily life and your thinking: the world or the Lord?  Who is really feeding you, informing you, and influencing you? Is it the melons and leeks of this world? Or is it the faithful, stable, even miraculous manna of the Lord and His Church?

These are some probing questions for all of us, drawn from an ancient wilderness. God’s people, who tired of the manna, harmed themselves and others as well. It is easy to blame others for the mess we’re in today, but there are too many Catholics who prefer the melons and leeks of this world and have failed to summon others to the manna given by the Lord.

Have mercy on us, Lord our God. Give us a deep desire for the manna you offer. And having given it to us in abundance, help us to share it as well!

Where Does Such Cruelty Come from in a Culture That Prizes Kindness?

08032015What are we to make of cruelty in our culture? At one level, there is demonstrably less cruelty on a daily basis. Many hundreds of years ago, before the emergence of a common civil law, settled governments, and national boundaries, villages were often overrun by roving bands of plunderers or the armies of nearby towns. Feudal lords or landed families were either venting grievances or seeking to increase their territory. City-states had high walls, moats, and embattlements for a reason. Brutality, rape, torture, banishment, pillaging, and enslavement were common features of the ancient world and continued well into the 16th Century in Europe and even to this very day in some parts of the world.

With the emergence of civil law and more common standards of justice (thanks in part to the Church), along with more settled nation-states and boundaries, order in daily life, of the kind not experienced since the Pax Romana, began to develop.

Few of us today fear to venture outside our cities, which no longer have protective walls, or far from our homes. A drive out in the country is not something we undertake with trepidation, wondering if we will ever return.

And yet from the perspective of a “body count,” we have never lived in bloodier times. Even as we call ourselves “civilized” we kill in numbers unimaginable to the ancient world or feudal Europe. In the 20th century alone, tens of millions were killed in the two world wars. And the dead were not found only on the battlefields, but in fire-bombed and carpet-bombed cities as well. “Civilized” Germany ran death camps that killed millions more. The “Cold War” that followed World War II and atheistic communism killed millions more. Even by conservative estimates, some 200 million people died in the 20th century for ideological reasons: at the hands of Stalin, Mao, and Pohl Pot, and as a result of wars in Vietnam, Cambodia, and Korea. The 20th century was surely the bloodiest century this world has ever known.

Add to this the cruelest killing of all, in numbers almost unfathomable: abortion. Whatever euphemism we may wish to use (“reproductive choice,” “women’s healthcare,” etc.), the fact remains that abortion is a brutal thing. Infants are scalded to death by saline or dismembered by suction. And regardless of what women are told or what they think going in, no post-abortive woman I have ever spoken with would describe abortion as anything less than an act of terrible violence. They themselves are also the victims of the lies and euphemisms. Reality hits hard.

The recently released undercover Planned Parenthood videos show the brutality and the callous disregard for human life and dignity in some people. The actions of Planned Parenthood are reprehensible, but not surprising. When a person or an organization unrepentantly engages in any objectively sinful practice, the sin has a way of growing, and the darkness and rationalizations get ever deeper. And if this is the case with lesser sins, how much more so with the extremely grave sin of unrepentantly killing infants in the womb.

Planned Parenthood’s organizational response to the videos, while less glib than the “doctors” in the videos, demonstrates a lack of remorse and no desire to end the practice. But what remorse can we expect from Planned Parenthood when it supports and profits from the killing of over 300,000 infants a year?

Yes, in this country the darkness is growing ever deeper in many hearts. And thus we see the most abominable practices celebrated by those who have lost their moorings, who lack even simple human tenderness toward the most innocent among us: our infants. Many even justify selling aborted infants for the sake of “medical research.”

So here is the great paradox of cruelty in our times. At one level we experience less brutal and random violence. Law and order, national boundaries, etc. have reduced the daily violence that most (not all) of us experience. Indeed, we talk endlessly and to a fault about being kind and “nice” and of the obligation not to hurt anyone’s feelings. We lament the killing of whales, the baby seals, and Cecil the lion. And yet, by the numbers, we are more brutal and cruel than ever. While we call ourselves civilized, the numbers show that the modern world is a killing machine the likes of which the world has never known.

In pondering the enormous violence in a culture that talks “nice” and prizes tolerance and kindness, Dr. Peter Kreeft makes a valuable observation:

How [is our civilization] weak? Not technologically … not intellectually … Nor are we morally weaker. I do not think we are necessarily more wicked than our ancestors overall. True, we are less courageous, less honest with ourselves, less self-disciplined, and obviously less chaste than they were. But they were more cruel, intolerant, snobbish, and inhumane than we are. They were better at the hard virtues; we are better at the soft virtues. …

But though we are not weaker in morality, we are weaker in the knowledge of morality … We know more about what is less than ourselves, but less about what is more than ourselves. When we act morally, we are better than our philosophy … Our ancestors were worse than theirs. Their problem was not living up to their principles. Ours is not having any.

We talk a good game of ethics … but it has the effect of an inoculation. [Professing] a little ethics or pseudo ethics we build up an immunity to the real thing. Those who obviously have no ethics … are ripe for conversion. Those who seem to have ethics but actually do not [because they have merely inoculated themselves from true ethics by a little ethics] are comfortably ensconced in illusion (Peter Kreeft, Back to Virtue, Ignatius Press, 1992, pp. 23-32).

Kreeft’s basic explanation for our paradoxical “kind, yet brutal” culture comes down to an analogy of immunization. In immunization we “inoculate” ourselves. That is, we take a little portion of a disease in order to avoid the whole disease. Taking this little portion immunizes us and helps us to resist the big portion.

And thus those who use a little ethics, i.e., selective ethics, take it as something relatively harmless and less demanding than the whole of ethics or morality, which they shun like a disease. So, they take a little ethics (and selective ethics at that) and then congratulate themselves for being tolerant, kind, and nice, ignoring the rest of ethics and morality with its more frightening, consistent, and sweeping demands.

Yes, have a little ethics, get congratulated, and ignore the rest. Tell folks that you love the whales and think the poor should be fed; be polite and kind to most people, and you’re inoculated. Now, never mind that you are unchaste, think abortion should be legal, think that the selling of body parts obtained by killing is OK or even virtuous. No, never mind any of that. You are inoculated and therefore immune from the “disease” of a full moral vision. Indeed, those who do have the full symptoms of the full “disease” of morality and ethics are referred to with the disease-like term, “fanatic.”

Yes, what are we to make of the cruelty in our culture? Why is there such an astonishing death toll in a culture in which kindness and politeness are so prized? What are we to make of a culture that eschews violence and yet finds it even debatably “OK” to crush infants in the womb “carefully” and then harvest their organs? What are we to make of a culture that thinks it’s OK to abort infants at all, while we still talk about justice and fairness out of the other side of our mouth?

I think Dr. Kreeft’s analogy with inoculation helps explain some of the paradox. Our kindness and politeness, our sense of “civil” discourse, and our rejection of localized violence, good in themselves, are taken by many like an inoculation to immunize them from the broader expectations of a fully biblical morality or natural law ethics. Some think and would say, “I’ve done a little. I hold to the minimally correct, publicly approved view. I’m inoculated. So now leave me alone and take your fanatical and diseased extremism out of here.”

Little things may mean a lot, but not if they are used to exclude and excuse one from the greater. In this case, the good is the enemy of the perfect. And hence our politely cruel culture.