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.

Showing posts with label Peter Kreeft. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Peter Kreeft. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 26, 2022

OK, Here's What I'm Reading

In recent weeks I've had several of my Bible Study participants ask me what I'm currently reading. I'm not sure why they'd want to know; after all, my reading habits are likely no more interesting than anyone else's. Anyway, my tastes in books can also be a bit off-putting to some folks. For example, I rarely read modern novels, and by "modern" I mean anything written during the past 30 or 40 years. There are exceptions; indeed, one of the books I'm currently reading would certainly be labeled a modern novel, but I was introduced to other works by the same author and enjoyed them. The reason I avoid most modern fiction? There's far too much of it and I have so little time to sort out the bad from the not-so-bad. There's really very little good. I hate to waste precious time (and inflationary cash) on something not worth reading, so it's safer to wait several decades and ask a few simple questions:

  • Is it still in print? This isn't always a good benchmark, but it does limit the field. Multiple printings tell us little about the critics, but a lot about the general public; and I trust the latter more than the former. The public isn't always right, but it's more right than most critics.
  • The above leads to another set of criteria: Who likes it and who doesn't? Is it on the "must read" list of someone I know and trust? Or is it on the "hated list" of someone whose opinions I regularly dismiss as foolish? A "yes" answer to both questions is a definite plus.
  • Is it a seminal work, one of those truly influential books that has changed the world? Its impact might have been horribly negative, like Mein Kampf or Das Kapital, or very positive, like Augustine's Confessions or Russell Kirk's The Conservative Mind. I read them all, since ignoring them leaves one ill-equipped to cope with their consequences.
  • Finally, is it a book I will simply enjoy? For example, Flannery O'Connor's letters, published posthumously as The Habit of Being is one of those books to which I often return. O'Connor was always interesting and usually quite funny. I also enjoy the works of Jane Austen, Gene Wolfe, Alice Thomas Ellis, G. K. Chesterton, V. S. Naipaul, P. G. Wodehouse, Evelyn Waugh, Mark Helprin, Maurice Baring, and so many others.
At any given time, I'm usually reading more than one book, all stacked neatly on the table next to my comfortable, squishy easy chair in our living room. Diane thinks this is weird, but it works for me. I simply choose the book that seems to suit my current mood, something that changes often enough. If a book is interesting and well-written, I have no trouble picking up where I left off when I last put it down. And so, here are a few of the books I've recently read or am reading now. 

Winter's Tale, by Mark Helprin (1983). Helprin is a wonderful writer, and I often find myself checking to see what he's published lately. I've read many of his works, novels and short stories -- I especially liked A Soldier of the Great War -- but somehow missed this novel, one of his earlier works. A remarkable love story, touched with fantasy, but for me utterly believable. 

The Seven Storey Mountain, by Thomas Merton (1948). I first read this book when I was a freshman at Georgetown, but that was 60 years ago. As I recall I found it too personal and too spiritual. But what did I expect? After all, it's an autobiography of a man who becomes a Trappist monk. Personal and spiritual? Well, yeah! Right now, I'm smack dab in the middle of it and truly enjoying it. It takes me back to the Church and the world I experienced in my youth. And reading Merton's life, I encounter pieces of my own and my struggles to make my way past many of the same obstacles that confronted the author. Interesting that I didn't recognize any of this during my first reading when I was 18. As college freshmen we were sure we were oh so smart, when in truth we were amazingly stupid.

The Stripping of the Altars 1400-1580, by Eamon Duffy (1992). This absolutely fascinating (and very long) book is another through which I'm now making my way. It's one of those books that has changed how many people, both Catholics and Protestants, understand the role the Catholic Church played in the lives of the English people before and during the early years of Reformation. Duffy focuses on a particular period (1400-1580) and demonstrates that late medieval Catholicism remained the religion of the people throughout. He also writes convincingly of the means by which this truth has been grossly distorted. 

Lost in the Cosmos: The Last Self-Help Book, by Walker Percy (1983). With this book, Percy, a medical doctor and successful novelist, offered us a work of non-fiction designed to help you and me discover, as he phrased it, "who you are not and even (an outside chance) who you are." Percy looks intently, and with his own brand of humor, at man and the universe in which God has placed him and tries to make sense of it all by providing us with a cosmic survival guide. I just finished reading the book, enjoyed it immensely, but in truth preferred Percy's novels, especially The Moviegoer and The Second Coming.

The Madness of Crowds: Gender, Race and Identity by Douglas Murray (2019). If you're sick and tired of all the wokeness that is continuously streamed into your life and that of your family, then this is the book for you. Douglas Murray, a British political commentator and an editor at The Spectator, takes a hard look at the plague of identity politics, its Marxist roots, and its manifestations regarding race, sexuality, and gender. He also examines how technology and the online culture it has spawned has negatively altered human relationships. It's a wonderfully researched and well-written book. You might consider giving copies to grown children and grandchildren, assuming they can still read and have the attention span necessary to make their way through almost 300 pages.

Here are two others on the subject of Sacred Scripture, books that tell us much about modern Scriptural scholarship.

The Case for Jesus (2016), by Brant Petre. This little book should be read by all Christians who have become confused thanks to the work and commentary of so many of today's New Testament scholars. Brant Petre, a Catholic Scriptural scholar, lays bare the false assumptions and conclusions of the form critics who unfortunately have led so many Christians astray and been the cause much lost faith. Focusing on the Gospels, Petre digs deeply into the original manuscripts, as well as the works of Early Church Fathers, proving, as the Church has always taught, that the Gospels were actually written by Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John and relate the truth about the life and public ministry of our Lord, Jesus Christ. Although written for the layperson, Petre provides detailed references and documentation for anyone who desires to pursue the subject in greater depth.

The Decline and Fall of Sacred Scripture (2021), by Scott Hahn & Benjamin Wiker. Here we have another wonderful book focusing on the truth of Sacred Scripture and the attempts by many scholars to turn the Bible into just another book of tall tales. The authors provide an overview of the degradation of Scriptural scholarship over the centuries, and its negative effects on the faith of millions of Christians. From Marsilius and Ockham in the late medieval period, through the Reformation, and into our modern times, we are shown how Sacred Scripture has been radically attacked by generations of scholars who, in the words of one reviewer, left "an incoherent mess" in their wake. 

Doors in the Walls of the World, by Peter Kreeft (2018). I've been reading Peter Kreeft for decades and he never disappoints. This little book is no exception. Its subtitle, Signs of Transcendence in the Human Story, is a perfect description of its content. Although barely 125 pages, it took me several evenings to make my way through it. Almost every page left me with something to think about more deeply and I found myself questioning my own habits of thought. Here's just one example, from p. 43: 

"Divine design is either nothing or everything; and if it is everything, then it extends even to randomness and apparent meaninglessness, to the puzzling presence of evil and the absence of scientific proofs. The hypothesis of faith may not be provable, but it is believable. The doors in the walls of the world may be only loose threads, but they are there."

Because I've long accepted God's omniscience and omnipotence, I had never believed in mere coincidence. Here Kreeft extends this to include a rational disbelief in both randomness and meaninglessness. It's a wonderful book.

And that's enough. Blessings and God's peace...


Sunday, October 17, 2021

A Story of Success, Failure, and Salvation

Years ago, an acquaintance — let’s just call him Fred (not his real name) — died rather suddenly, the result, as I recall, of a brain embolism. Fred, a financial wizard of some repute, was considered, by most human standards, very successful. His expertise in the confusing and challenging area of international finance landed him an influential position at a major financial institution. His reputation grew, his expertise was sought, so he decided to start his own consulting firm providing financial and organizational advice and direction to companies hoping to expand their international business. Instantly successful, he opened a Manhattan office and even maintained a small apartment in the city which he used when work was especially demanding. Fred, his wife, and their two teenagers lived in a large home in an upscale New York suburb. They vacationed in all the best places, and the kids went to the best schools. Yes, indeed, Fred enjoyed a very good life. Well...it would have been a good life, had he actually enjoyed it. If you had asked those who thought they knew Fred well to describe him using one word, I’m sure most would have responded with, “angry.” 

Fred and I were both consultants and first met when we happened to be assisting the same company at the same time. Our work, of course, was very different. Fred showed his clients how they could make tens of millions by expanding internationally, while I provided needed training for front-line managers and sales and support people. Occasionally I also offered some customer-focus direction. Fred got paid very big bucks, while I got paid. We were both happy...well, I was anyway.

I referred to Fred as an “acquaintance” because our few meetings had always been in business situations, and we certainly weren’t friends. I suspect Fred had few, if any, real friends, something that become more apparent over time. The last time we met was a dinner Fred and I shared in the restaurant of the hotel in which we were both staying. For once he seemed quite pleasant. For whatever reason he was unusually talkative that evening and far more revealing than ever before. Perhaps he’d concluded I was no threat. Anyway, for several hours, over dinner and drinks, we talked about of many things. Fred told me about growing up as an only child in a rural Pennsylvania community. His dad was a heavy equipment operator and his mom taught elementary school. 

I can’t recall how or why, but at some point the subject of religious belief arose. He told me his father was Lutheran and his mother Jewish, so “religion wasn’t something we talked about. It was pretty much avoided, so I suppose I’m agnostic.” His family wasn’t poor but neither were they wealthy. He said he had always envied those with money and decided he would find a way to join their ranks. He had some memorable lines; for example, “Education actually became my religion, the path to the salvation I hoped for.” He studied hard, earned scholarships, and in graduate school chose a challenging field in high demand. His was a planned success. In his words, “My work is my life, and my life is my work.”

At some point that evening, when I asked him about his family, he responded oddly by saying only, “I take care of them, so they’re happy enough.” He then changed the subject and began to describe the weaknesses of the client company management that had hired us both that week. The occasion was a company-wide series of meetings. I would conduct about a week of customer focus training for the company’s field engineers, while Fred would work with the management team, helping them implement the plan he had developed for their fledgling international operations. As he spoke to me about their lack of vision, he grew more irritated and more sarcastic. I suppose my expression of surprise tipped him off, for he stopped suddenly and laughed. “As you can tell, I don’t suffer fools gladly.” Indeed he didn’t, but I knew he was wise enough not to display his irritation in the client’s presence. And I knew he trusted me, knowing I would never reveal his true feelings to those he served. 

It was my turn to change the subject. “Fred, you said your family was happy, but how about you? You’ve worked hard. You’re certainly successful. You’ve just published a book. Quite honestly, though, you don’t seem very happy. What are you hoping for in this life you’ve been given?” 

The question obviously surprised him, but Fred was an intelligent man and far more introspective than I’d expected. “An interesting question,” he said, “but with no easy answer — the kind of question I’d usually avoid. I’ve never thought of my life as a gift. You’re getting theological on me, aren’t you?” He raised a hand to stop me from responding and added, “Let’s just leave it at that. You’ve given me something to think about, and that’s always a good thing.”

I never saw Fred again. When I returned home, I sent him a copy of Peer Kreeft's book, Making Sense Out of Suffering. It had been published just a few years before and for some reason I thought Fred would benefit from it. I suppose I saw his anger as a symptom of a suffering soul. He responded with a brief, rather cryptic note: "Thanks for the book -- a lesser gift, but it's led me to think of a greater one. We'll see. - Fred"

Fred died about a year later, but It was some weeks before I heard the news. I believe he was in his mid-50s at the time, probably ten years my senior. I can't explain why, but I felt compelled to call his wife, a woman I had never met, to express my condolences. After a few explanatory comments, she said, "Oh! You're the one who sent the book. It really had an impact on Fred.” I didn’t pursue that comment but just told her I would pray for her and her children, and would also pray for Fred. She thanked me for that.

So often, as we struggle through life’s ups and downs, we mistakenly assume only wealth and success can bring the happiness we all seek. Fred was perhaps a perfect example of this fruitless search, a man who had achieved much in the eyes of the world and yet was demonstrably unhappy. I sensed he had reached a turning point, a realization that life pointed to something greater than the material rewards he had actively pursued. Our loving, merciful God offers His gift of faith to all of us, and does so repeatedly in ways to which we are most likely to respond. Our task is to recognize the offering, the wonder of this gift, and to respond in thanksgiving and love. I pray that Fred, before God called him to eternity, had come to understand and accept God’s gift of life as “the greater” gift. 

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Why Beauty Matters

Some time ago I heard a lecture by Dr. Peter Kreeft, prolific author and professor of philosophy at Boston College, in which he discussed the idea of beauty and the sacred, particularly as they are encountered in the arts. Today, while browsing a few favorite websites I came across a video -- a one-hour BBC documentary -- entitled "Why Beauty Matters", in which English philosopher Roger Scruton addresses the same subject from a different perspective. The documentary is really quite good and is certainly worth watching, so if you can set aside the time, sit back and enjoy what Dr. Scruton has to say. It beats the evening news.



Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Spencer and Kreeft debate Islam

The below video is a debate between Robert Spencer and Peter Kreeft on the subject of Islam and its impact on Christianity. It took place in November at Thomas More College in Merrimack, New Hampshire. Mr. Spencer takes the affirmative in the debate which centers on the statement, "The only good Muslim is a bad Muslim," while Dr. Kreeft, Professor of Philosophy at Boston College, takes the other side of the question. This debate between two Catholics with different views on Islam is certainly worth watching...although you'll have to set aside a lot of time to watch it all.