Ecumania Alert!

Several months ago, I wrote an article, of sorts, for a priest going to meet with his university's Presbyterian student union. Recently someone named, curiously enough, "Anonymous", said:

I would just like to say that although you advised "not to consider this is a debate about which religion is better" you did everything to make this one. The majority of what you said about the Catholic religion was mostly disrespectful and slandering. We are in a new age and Catholicicsm [sic] should be seen in a new light! This is not AD 1500!

First of all, placing what I said in quotation marks suggests it's actually what I wrote. However, the only time I used the word "debate", I wrote, "This is not the setting to debate who is right about being the 'established' Church of Jesus." I'm not nit-picking. I'm pointing out from the start that whoever Anonymous is, It was so hasty in retorting that It couldn't bother scrolling up a few lines, preferring instead to give an air or cleverness by catching me in quotes.

As for the substance of this anonymous comment, why do I get the sneaking suspicion Anonymous is actually a Catholic? At first glance it is a protest by a Protestant, along the lines of calling me out for ecclesial triumphalism. At first glance, the objection seems to be that I actually set out to debate, and defeat, Presbyterianism. But suddenly I am accused of being "mostly disrespectful and slandering" towards the Catholic Church!

By the gnarled beard of Zeus! What alchemical rhetorical technique is this?

Assuming that's actually what It meant -- that I've slandered the Church -- I wonder exactly wherein my slander lies. Presumably, by articulating Catholic orthodoxy I outed myself as a Dim, still dwelling in the 15th century. There is a kind of bluntness that opens minds, as when we call a spade a spade. In the case of Anonymous, however, bluntly reminding me it's no longer the 15th century (ah, but who's counting anyway?), is like calling a spade a card. It transfigures obfuscation like lacquer on rotted wood.

Presumably, by noting differences between Catholicism and Presbyterianism, I have shown myself trapped in the ancient mindset of creating boundaries where only halcyon Oneness should exist, as butter smooths over the rough imperfections of toast, giving one a foretaste of the oily harmony that can exist amongst blind and deaf brethren at dusk. The buttery sameness of what should have been my debate-free article should also be the texture of our "new age." Notice how this "new age" is never defined, except in contrast to the unnamed faults of the 15th century. Now we witness a kind of bluntness wherein a spade is a nigger. It glorifies the chauvinism of one's mind as a mint cleans the teeth.

On the off-chance Anonymous finds Its way here again, I hope It can be more specific wherein my slander lies. In the meantime, I would ask other (preferably nonymous) readers to show me where I was disrespectful. Otherwise, Anonymous seems to be as unwilling to own Its name as It is to claim Its Catholic heritage.

Oh, and if Anonymous is actually a Presbyterian (or simply not a Catholic), and actually meant I was rude towards Presbyterians, well, we all know how triumphalistic I am, and there's no helping me in such a late stage! I can't believe I'm not butter!

Orientale sapientia yada yada yada

Look, I know that I, a benighted Westerner, an automatic colonialist and an inveterate addict for ontological dualism (i.e., death-life, good-evil, now-then, etc.) am supposed to embrace enlightenment under the ancient hands of the East, but look:

Daoism is just dumb. Daoismus ist bloß dumm. 道家根本很笨。

Any philosophy that lives on the indifference to death as opposed to the "delusion" of the superiority of life, deserves to go the way of all flesh: in the dustbin.

Any philosophy, likewise, the dominant idea of which is to have no ideas (wu yi 無意) has no idea what's it's saying, and deserves even less effort trying to get such an idea satisfactorily (de yi 得意). The very idea (literally)!

Any philosophy that that argues for the hermetic provincialism of a never leaving where you are, deserves to be sequestered, quarantined, in its own hermetic unwisdom.

Any philosophy that idealizes the sealing up of all bodily orifices and, in parallel, the reduction of all inner fragmentation from latching on to other humans, deserves to be sealed up in its own monadic madness.

Any philosophy that actively promotes passive resignation to all states of affairs and all external influences, deserves to passed over as a mere act.

Any philosophy that argues one should accept all states as equally valid and preferable (since each states exist in se) while also arguing one should attain to the possession of all states in one's (own) unformed wholeness, shows itself to be wholly deformed.

I guess what rankles me most about it is that Daoism has so much good potential to illuminate and echo key Christian concepts but erases the subjects which should benefit from such wisdom. For example, the insistence on qi 氣 as an omnipresent, formative force echoes the transcendent nature of the soul (in relation to matter) in classical Christian anthropology. Likewise, the depiction of the leader as the least of these, and the depiction of the Sage (zhen ren 真人) as an infant and an elder, ring so true with Christ's kenotic victory, the childlike victory of Kingdom-life and the wisdom of God as the Ancient One. But by dissolving the personal subject (both I and Thou), Daoism eo ipso eradicates its own material and final causes for existing as a worldview. For as soon as the Ego (and the Tu) is erased, the coherence of communicating, or even holding, Daoism vanishes.

Like all absolute dualisms, Daoism falters on its implicit preference for the subject's good over the subject's loss. In the case of Daoism, a subject's "gain" would be to attain sagehood by releasing all plural attachments and personal ego-consciousness. His loss, by contrast, would be to remain in his infantile present condition as one who fears death, contemplates ides, etc. Even if philosophical Daoism (道家) is not as interested as religious ("practical") Daoism (道教) in attaining literal, corporeal immortality, nevertheless by motivating the pursuit of wisdom (qua the lack of fear of death or the attachment to life), Daoism eo ipso indicates an imbalance between value-states, which its "zero-perspective" indifference should reject. If all states really are to be viewed as equally valid and real, without any substantial loss of self, then even the state of not seeing reality that way should be embraced as whole and irreproachable in itself. As soon as the Daoist teacher reproaches a person for being unenlightened, all that person need reply is, "I am beyond your supposed need for change. I am already enlightened, because my relative immaturity is whole and valid in itself. To scramble for improvement would be to show I lack it. But to accept my need for Daoist improvement is to show I already have it."

The sort of fallacy to which Daoism falls prey is articulated at some length in Stanley Jaki's Means to Message (and here). Although Fr. Jaki does not, as I recall, mention Daoism, his "philosophy of adequate means" (as I would call it) signals Daoism's chief flaw, namely that its own claims cannot account for the means by which those claims are made.

Daoism does indeed have a number of good insights about adapting to change and feeling at home in each present moment. Daoism is, in that way, a great "tool" for handling discrete tasks. But as for a whole philosophy by which one lives? I deny it. But I reject it because it is the most ancient philosophy of cool; but as Edward de Bono says (in his book H+), cool is an immoral sham that erodes the warmth of human solidarity and the health of human integrity. Daoism ultimately boils down to saying, "Be cool." It's not as deluded as saying, "It's all good," since good has little meaning in Daoism. Daoism is beyond being touched, beyond being hurt, beyond being vulnerable. How, then, it can be so gripping and accessible to so many people, is beyond me. Daoism is Asia's Stoicism, as yet unbaptized. At least Buddhism insists on Love as the highest value, and Life as a legitimate good. Now if it cold free itself from its basic Daoist proclivities for indifference to any so-called "goods" in life, it would be a beautiful and existentially consistent worldview.

These recent thoughts on Daoism are stimulated by my current reading of Hans-Georg Moeller's Daoism Explained.

The evil I

[In response to Michael Liccione's paper, "The Problems of Evil"]

I enjoy your paper, although I would prefer to read it in a formal tone. It was originally a lecture, which makes it accessible, but I think it would be tighter and could be more substantive as an essay through and through.

I'd like to read it again before making any major suggestions. But my initial response is a Q: How do you differentiate between a person's created essence and his historical reality in this argument?

You seem to be saying that, while evil is not a positively desired end on God's part, it is a permitted means to the end of creating an individual person. Because Elliot B emerged from a particular complex of historical and biological contingencies, necessarily, to bring him about, God would have to use good as well as evil determinants (events), to bring about the Elliot-B-producing complex. There would be no Elliot B without the actual history into which (and out of which) he was born. That such an actual history includes evil is an unfortunate consequence of God's overriding desire to create Elliot B.

Elliot B can't really complain about the evil which preceded him, since to remove all such evil would be to annihilate the necessary historical complex that brought him about. (He also can't really complain about the evil he commits, since that is even farther from being God's fault!) It reminds me of S. Hasker's challenge that unless a person is willing to say ceasing to exist (suicide, metaphysical liquidation, etc.) is better than continuing to exist, one can't coherently say the world is unbearably evil, and therefore can't charge God with evil. Recognizing one's own existence a good greater than all the evil in the world is ipso facto proof that God can and has brought about a greater good by allowing numerous lesser evils.

My Q, again, is how one can separate who I am from the complex which produced me. Couldn't I (in essentia) have existed nine hundred years ago in Sweden? If I am, necessarily, a result of a given state of affairs, aren't God's hands tied? Couldn't I have existed in a world in which Hitler never did? If he has to allow certain evils to produce me, then doesn't he have to allow certain diachronic evils to produce the final good? That may be true, but something in it smacks of theistic necessitarianism (not mention anthropological historical determinism). If God always, by nature, wills the greatest good, then it seems he MUST always will the good in a certain way.

Conversely, assuming God could create me in essentia without necessarily "waiting for" the right complex to produce me, then what need is there to say regrettable evils are all part of God's otherwise free and good decision to make the world and me? What is the limit between allowing a proper complex to produce me and not allowing undue evil?

Driving me mad

I knew I wasn't on to anything novel by posting about the Vatican's so-called Ten Commandments for Driving. I heard about it from a major secular newsfeed, so I can hardly pretend I scooped the story. It is a fairly regular flap in the blogosphere, so there's no reason why I should have pretended my fluttering about it would add much of substance. As I said, though, I blogged about the document because it touched me. Indeed, the sheer fun of reading with Christian eyes about something so commonplace and "secular" as driving was half my motive.

But I was also aware many other Catholics might find it a dull, insipid and basically laughable excretion from a bloated curial ghetto with perhaps nothing better to do. This has been borne out by my scattered reading about the Guidelines in the blogosphere. One Catholic writer was mildly accused of trying to make a silk purse of a sow's ear by highlighting good aspects of the Guidelines, of which he found very few. Another blogger I greatly respect called the document an instance of self-important ecclesial fatuity.

I beg to differ, however.

Far from being fatuous, the document strikes me as very timely and indeed beautiful at points. (I am willing to grant that the Guidelines' prose is disappointingly, well, prosaic.) It may just be a testimony to my own theological dimness, but I found brilliant the Guidelines' preliminary reflections on pilgrimage and travel, not only because they illuminated a theme as plain (and as ignored) as the nose on my face, but also because they rejuvenated the link between ordinary human mobility and the biblical narrative of the ecclesia peregrina. Partially my favor for the Guidelines stems from the fact that I often struggle with road rage and "driver burnout". So I read the Guidelines as direct spiritual counsel. Who knows how many other people did too? or should? or will?

Also, I love the fact that the Catholic Church so concretely manifests its catholicity. The blogger I linked to (above) may have been seized into the Church by her philosophical wisdom. Others by sacred art and music. Others by the Church's charity and missions. Others, whom I know personally, by the rock-like security and quietude to be found in your average, even "ho hum," Mass. Now others, may God grant the grace, might be called to repent or grow by a new awareness of driving as an apostolate and a spiritual battlefield. As the document says upfront: because driving, and, more fundamentally, mobility, is a basic human reality, it is the Church's duty and privilege to integrate it into the Gospel, and vice versa.

As for the document's fatuity, I wonder how those mentioned in it -- street children, prostitutes, victims of reckless driving, tramps, those beset with rage while driving -- would react. The document is an explicit call from the world's most distinct religious voice for people to notice and love such people. Love is borne out by action. A Church that acts enough to release a 30-page document on caring for such people has great love indeed. Ultimately, the document is as fatuous as the objects of its concern. How one ranks them should influence how one judges the document, although hopefully the converse it not true.

So, yeah, uh...

I guess after five months away, I've returned to blogging. Let's not get all emotional, though, since I still feel my center of existential gravity is best kept offline. Thanks for dropping in. I missed you. Please pray for me. I've been writing and resting well but have struggled with acedia.

One more reason...

... to hate Communism. Iconoclasm is still a heresy. A pinko would be my wounded Jew on the roadside in the parable of the Good Samaritan. A true challenge to my love.

On the other hand, here's one more reason to love being Catholic: you get the Theology of Driving! I admit to struggling with road rage and it's so easy to be cold and thoughtless in Taichung traffic. I printed and read this document the day it was posted because I knew it touched my spiritual life directly. As quirky as it sounds, it really is a beautiful document (available here).