The occasional, often ill-considered thoughts of a Roman Catholic permanent deacon who is ever grateful to God for his existence. Despite the strangeness we encounter in this life, all the suffering we witness and endure, being is good, so good I am sometimes unable to contain my joy. Deo gratias!


Although I am an ordained deacon of the Catholic Church, the opinions expressed in this blog are my personal opinions. In offering these personal opinions I am not acting as a representative of the Church or any Church organization.

Thursday, October 22, 2020

Confessions

OK, it’s confession time...well sort of. I’m not going to confess my sins publicly. No juicy stuff here. That’s between me, my confessor, and God...oh, yes, and Dear Diane since she has the unpleasant task of cataloging and reminding me of my faults. As a long-time sinner, I certainly recognize the existence of sin, along with the need for repentance and forgiveness. And I seem to be spending a lot of time lately offering the former and praying for the latter. But have you noticed how many people today — mostly celebrities and politicians — when their sins are exposed, openly admit them to the entire world, but then just toss them aside as if they mean nothing? Of course, I get the sense most of them don’t believe in sin anyway. Maybe they all need a Diane looking over their shoulder.

But I digress...Today’s confession has nothing to do with sin. I’m just trying to come to grips with my evolving worldview. The trouble is, I’m not sure I’m comfortable with the result, even though as a continually evolving view, the “result” is at best only temporary. I suppose that’s been true throughout my life. I certainly looked at the world very differently 25 years ago, and even more so when I was 25. I’d like to think my change in perspective is the product of greater wisdom but there seems to be little evidence of this. 

Through what sort of lens do I view the world today? It’s hard to describe, but if I had to come up with a concise description, I suppose I’d call myself a “faith-driven, anarcho, medieval Catholic.” Okay, it’s weird. I admit it. It certainly demands explanation and it’s got some internal contradictions that I still have to work out.

I suspect the first question to arise is: Did you just label yourself an anarchist? Well, sort of. But before you call the authorities, please realize I’m no modern-day Gavrilo Princip, not one of those crazy-eyed, bomb-throwing, hate-spewing, history-destroying anarchists who roam city streets calling themselves Antifa. Not at all. I would simply like to see the ever-expanding state stop expanding and perhaps even contract. I don’t believe either human freedom or human well-being is advanced by increasing state control over every aspect of our lives. Indeed, just the opposite. Our founding fathers understood this, which is why the Constitution focuses on limiting the federal government and protecting the God-given rights of citizens. It’s also why they added the Tenth Amendment:

“The powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution, nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to the States respectively, or to the people.”

The problem, of course, is that over time the courts have allowed the federal government to usurp all kinds of “powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution,” leaving the states and especially the people increasingly powerless. In a sense, then, the founders and I believe in the same kind of very limited anarchy. It’s a controlled anarchy, by which the people permit government to assume certain well-defined powers — powers that provide the people with a degree of safety to live their lives in freedom by exercising their rights without infringing on the rights of others. 

Just don’t confuse my limited anarchy with libertarianism. About all I have in common with libertarians is a distrust of socialism, totalitarianism, and invasive bureaucracy. The libertarian, though, places personal freedom above all else, believing in what Edmund Burke appropriately labeled "licentious toleration." In other words, the libertarian tolerates any behavior so long as it doesn't directly impinge on his own personal freedom. The true libertarian, therefore, cannot accept any authority beyond oneself, be it from earth or from heaven. If he is honest with himself, he must admit to being, at best, an agnostic.

I am certainly not a libertarian because I am “faith-driven.” My Catholic faith accepts the authority of God, which places definite controls on my behavior. Yes, my faith calls for freedom, but it is the freedom to seek and profess the truth and to make a moral choice to do what is right and just. In other words, true freedom rejects relativism and accepts that truth is very real and can be discovered. It does not call for raw license to do whatever one wants, to be openly barbarous in a civilized society. 

What about the "medieval" part of my worldview? I suppose that comes from my lifelong study of history. I simply have more in common, spiritually and intellectually, with the medieval Christian than I do with most of his modern successors. The Christian of the Middle Ages actually believed, as I do, in the Revelation of God through Sacred Scripture. As Romano Guardini put it in a book that all Catholics should read: 

"Medieval man centered his faith in Revelation as it had been enshrined in Scripture, in that Revelation which affirmed the existence of God Who holds His Being separate and beyond the world...the world is created by a God Who does not have to create in order that He might be, nor does He need the elements of the World in orderr that He might create...A new freedom dawned in history for the human spirit. Sundered now from the world, man was able for the first time to face all things from a new plane, from a vantage point which depended neither upon intellectual superiority of cultural attainment" [The End of the Modern World, p. 7-9].

For Medieval man, then (as for me), Divine Revelation is the determining fact, that which explains all existence. He accepted the authority of the Church, an authority granted by Jesus Christ that placed limits on personal freedom and behavior.

And so, that's who I am...at least today. I'll likely evolve (or devolve) into something else tomorrow.

Oh, yes, one more thought, completely unrelated to the rest of this post. In the Introduction to Fr. Guardini's book mentioned above, Frederick Wilhelmsen, looking to the future, wrote (in 1956):

“Christian Faith will call for a heroism unknown to our fathers, the martyrs of ages past.”

I just thought it was a timely comment, given the darkness spreading throughout today's world.

Keep the Faith, dear friends.

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