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 Romano Guardini. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Romano Guardini. Show all posts

Monday, July 12, 2021

Technology, Friend or Foe?

I expect this subject to demand more than one post, so today's will be only a start. But first, some background…my own, so you’ll know where I’m coming from, at least when it comes to technology. 

I’ve been wrapped up in technology for most of my life. As a teenager I became a licensed ham radio operator and took a math/science path through high school. Okay, I also studied Latin and German, but my real interests were in the sciences. Georgetown University accepted me as an astronomy major, but then my dad convinced me to ask the university if I could switch to its School of Foreign Service. Why I agreed to this, I can’t answer today, but Dad could be persuasive. Anyway, Georgetown agreed and I spent my freshman year with a bunch of budding diplomats — nice folks, but a bit odd. 

Everything changed when I received an appointment to the U. S. Naval Academy, a school where technology rules. Four year later I graduated from Annapolis with a specialty in electrical engineering and a minor in German. I’d always been fascinated by aviation, so naval flight school was the logical next step. After earning my Navy “wings of gold,” I spent the next decade flying, attending graduate school where I studied management and computer science, teaching computer science at the Naval Academy, and doing other exciting Navy stuff at sea and ashore.  

Diane and I enjoyed Navy life, but I was facing more sea duty, more time away from my family, and more moves. Once again my dad suggested a change, and asked me to join him in his sales and management training and consulting business. And once again, this time with Diane’s support, we agreed. I resigned my Regular Navy commission and transferred to the Naval Reserve, in which I served the country for another 15 years. In the meantime we moved to Cape Cod to begin this new chapter. I stayed connected with technology, applying it as a tool in our business. In fact, we had a computer long before the advent of the PC. There were other adventures: working as a low-level dean at Providence College; teaching business programs there and at Roger Williams University; and working for a Massachusetts-based hi-tech firm that specialized in programmable telecommunications switches.

Of course, throughout these years Diane and I tried to live faith-filled lives. I read and took courses in Scripture and theology in an effort to expand my knowledge and deepen my faith. About 30 years ago, I accepted a call to begin formation for the diaconate, and was ordained a permanent deacon on May 24, 1997. 

That, then, is my story in brief, at least part of it. I’ve long been somewhat of a techno-dweeb, but have also been concerned about technology’s pervasive presence and, in truth, its growing control over so many aspects of our lives.

Let me turn now to the real subject of this post by referring to a small book written almost a century ago by 
Romano Guardini (1885-1968), one of the Church’s great 20th-century theologians,. The book, Letters from Lake Como, first published in 1926, consists of a series of letters Guardini wrote several years earlier (1923). Focused on the increasing domination of human culture by technology, these letters are remarkably prescient and lead us to question whether technology is a human accomplishment to celebrate or a means to our ultimate subjugation. This, of course, is a question many ask today as we cope with technological intrusions, both overt and covert, into even the most private aspects of human life. I find it truly remarkable that Guardini could anticipate this possibility nearly 100 years ago.

At one point, in a discussion of tools, Guardini addresses their different forms. Basic tools -- for example , a hammer -- become extensions of the human body allowing us to accomplish tasks with greater ease, accuracy, and refinement. It would be hard indeed to hammer a nail with my fist, easier perhaps with a rock, but far more satisfactory using a hammer designed specifically for the task. 

At a higher level we find the development of tools whose function does not demand direct human interaction. For example, a millstone, designed to grind wheat or other grains, can be turned by water power without the direct application of human effort. This application of natural means allows the human, uninvolved in the tool's actual work, to control the process with minimal effort. In the same way, by using horses to pull wagons or other vehicles to transport people or material, the human interacts with and controls the natural means (the horses) by which the work is accomplished.

Guardini then addresses more capable machines that "relieve us of direct work; we need only construct and supervise them." Here he includes machines that work with other machines, controlling them to accomplish increasingly complicated tasks of the sort preformed in the factories of his day. The automobile and airplane would also fall into this general category.

At this point Guardini adds that many machines and instruments have become extremely complex, their development the result of expanding scientific knowledge and technological and engineering expertise. These concepts are not understood by non-experts, who no longer experience directly the totality of the tools being used; i.e., they no longer wield the hammer. They might operate the machine, and yet have little understanding of the science and technology needed to make and use it effectively.

This, Guardini believed, leads to a kind of societal polarization. Here I think it best to offer a rather long quote from an address he gave in 1959 that forms an addendum to the latest edition of his book. As you read these words, keep in mind they were written over 60 years ago.
"...machines give us constantly increasing power. But having power means not only that those who have it can decide on different things; it also means that these different things will influence their own position. To gain power is to experience it as it lays claim to our mind, spirit, and disposition. If we have power, we have to use it, and that involves conditions. We have to use it with responsibility, and that involves an ethical problem. If we try to avoid these reactions, we leave the human sphere and fall under the logic of theoretical and practical relations.

"Thus dangers of the most diverse kind arise out of the power that machines give. Physically one human group subjugates another in open or concealed conflict. Mentally and spiritually the thinking and feelings of one influence the other. We need think only of the influence of the media, advertising, and public opinion." [p. 105-106]
I was particularly drawn to his comment that "one human group subjugates another in open or concealed conflict," and could not help but consider the application of artificial intelligence in a wide variety of forms to many aspects of our lives by government agencies, corporations, social media, etc. These forms are designed not only to gather information about us as individuals and members of various groups, but more disturbingly to use that information, applying it in ways that can alter what we do, what we believe, and how we think about our culture’s most basic values. 

After rereading Guardini’s book this week, I opened the latest issue (August/September 2021) of First Things and encountered two surprisingly relevant articles. (Unfortunately, I don’t believe either is accessible online unless you are a paid subscriber.) One, by Ned Desmond and entitled “The Threat of Artificial Intelligence,” offers a rather dark glimpse into the kind of future we might well encounter as we face the “open or concealed” threat posed by A.I. as government and industry conspire to exert greater control over our lives. Hmmm…sounds a lot like old-fashioned, traditional fascism to me.

The second article, really a book review of a new novel, The Silence, by Don DeLillo, depicts how the characters cope with the sudden collapse of all technology. The book doesn’t really address causes so much as it examines reactions to it all. I’ve read only one of DeLillo’s other novels, Underworld (1997), in which the author looks at Cold War America and its obsessions. He is a skillful writer well worth reading.

Both articles, however, only highlight the truth of Guardini’s 100-year-old ideas about the dangers of a technology misunderstood and misused, dangers that seem to be far closer to reality than most of us think. Later in life Romano Guardini expanded on his earlier thoughts in his book, The End of the Modern World (first published 1950), a prophetic examination of how we arrived at the world we experience today. Every literate human should read it. It’s that important a book.
 
More on the subject in future posts. Right now I need a nap.


Wednesday, May 12, 2021

Hans Urs von Balthasar - Last Interview

Over the years, writing in this blog, I've occasionally referred to a number of theologians whose work has had a particular influence on my thinking. Although Romano Guardini (1885-1968) was probably the most influential, there have been many others. Joseph Ratzinger (Pope Benedict XVI) is certainly high on the list, as are Henri de Lubac (1896-1991), Jean Danielou (1905-1974), and Avery Dulles (1918-2008). Another is the Swiss theologian, Hans Urs von Balthasar (1905-1988), whom many consider perhaps the greatest of the 20th century's Catholic theologians. 

I first encountered von Balthasar about 35 years ago when someone -- I can't recall who -- gave me a copy of a book edited by two German Jesuits, translated by another Jesuit, and entitled, The von Balthasar Reader. Because even in those days I occasionally read some theology, I had certainly heard of von Balthasar. Although his name kept popping up in my readings, I had never read any of his work. The gift of this book was, therefore, a welcome treat. The theologian was still alive when I first turned its pages and began to sample his writings. As the title suggests, the book is an anthology, arranged thematically and designed to help the reader become acquainted with von Balthasar's thinking as expressed in his huge body of work.

Because I am neither patient enough nor smart enough to make my way through most of his writings with any degree of understanding, I found the Reader most helpful. And then a few year later, I picked up a copy of von Balthasar's little book, Epilogue, which he apparently wrote for people just like me. As he indicated in the book's foreword, it was "written to afford the weary reader something like an overview of the whole enterprise." By the "whole enterprise" von Balthasar meant his major theological trilogy -- The Glory of the Lord; Theo-Drama; and Theo-Logic -- each a multi-volume work that would have occupied me for several lifetimes.

We are also blessed that Fr. Joseph Fessio, founder of Ignatius Press, knew von Balthasar and arranged to publish his work in English translation. Although back in my student days I minored in German, I certainly do not have the facility to read theology in the language. And so I've been able to sample other works of this great theologian, including another favorite, his introduction to the thought of Romano Guardini: Romano Guardini -- Reform from the Source.

Von Balthasar died at the age of 82 in 1988. Today I stumbled across a YouTube interview from 1984, apparently the last time the theologian was interviewed on camera. The interview lasts about an hour and was conducted in German, but the English subtitles make it understandable even if you have no German. In it von Balthasar provides insights into his early life and education, his theology, his becoming a Jesuit as well as his later decision to leave the order. He also offers his thoughts on the changes experienced by the Church and his relationships with a number of other theologians. If you're a fan of von Balthasar, you'll enjoy it. 

For some reason, I was unable to embed the video in this blog posting, so here's a direct link to the YouTube video:

Last Interview with Hans Urs von Balthasar


Friday, October 30, 2020

Thoughts on Today’s Techno-Culture

In just a few years we as a nation have elevated a collection of poorly educated but technically competent men and women to a level of undeserved importance. How high is this level? So high they have come to believe they are destined to control all that we hear and see and read and think. Having watched some of their recent Senate testimony, I was amazed at their arrogance and their dishonesty. These technocrats seem to think that because they have mastered their little slice of technology and all the power that comes with it, they are smarter, more worthy, and more virtuous than the masses...and that’s us. This should give us cause for concern.

Some time ago, I made a note of the following comment. Unfortunately I failed to note the writer, so I trust he won’t object to this bit of accidental plagiarism. He described what he called our “technical wizards” as slaves to their own technology, and without it they are impotent. They are synthetic men, uprooted from the good that God has given us, the strength of our forefathers is not ours.” 

I really liked that comment. But someone else, the late great, Romano Guardini, wrote something truly prophetic almost 100 years ago. Writing as a young theologian, he saw the movement of technology, it’s growing influence, and its disdain for the traditions and the cultural norms that shaped his world, a world he believed was disappearing. It’s a world I experienced many years ago, a world that has dissolved into barbarism. Guardini wrote these words:

“On the basis of a known formula, materials and forces are put into the required condition: machines. Machines are an iron formula that directs the material to its desired end. Time and space are made subject as well as materials and forces. They are mastered by means of communications. What is to come is calculated in advance, and what has taken place is preserved” [Romano Guardini, Letters from Lake Como, p. 46].

I don’t know the answer to pervasive technology and those that strive to control it and us. I suppose just pulling the plug is overkill.

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.

Saturday, July 25, 2015

Laudato Si -- The Pope Speaks

A few days ago, early, before the Florida sun burned too hot, Maddie and I took our usual morning walk. Maddie is our little Bichon Frise (that's a dog for all you cat lovers), and she and I walk together twice daily. The length of these walks varies -- sometimes a mile, sometimes two miles, sometimes more -- and so too does the direction. I usually let Maddie decide which way to turn as we depart the driveway. It's the least I can do for this loving creature who spends so much of her life obeying others.


An egret
On this particular morning Maddie turned left and led me to a pond about a quarter-mile from our home. It is, of course, an artificial pond, one placed purposely alongside our street which bisects an executive golf course. Our retirement community, The Villages, has kindly placed several benches there so one can sit quietly and watch the waterbirds or listen to the song birds. And so I sat while Maddie engaged in her life's work of sniffing every blade of grass she encounters.

Because it was so early, barely past sunrise, few humans or canines were up and about. Maddie and I could, therefore, more fully appreciate the remarkable beauty and quiet sounds of God's creation. No golf carts, no garbage trucks, no landscapers with their pick-ups and trailers, no handymen hammering, no unnatural noises, just the sound of Maddie quietly sniffing and the plaintive cooing of a mourning dove perched above me in a small magnolia tree. At the edge of the pond, just a few yards from my bench, two great egrets stood motionless, solemnly watching the antics of an anhinga or "snake-bird" that tirelessly dove again and again into the calm waters. Across the pond a family of five black-bellied whistling ducks waddled through the grass toward the opposite shore.
Whistling Ducks

Sitting on that bench in that quiet time of the day, I couldn't help but consider how well man and nature seem to have come together here. Indeed, The Villages has become a virtual bird sanctuary. I have seen herons, egrets and ibises of all sizes and colors, eagles, osprey, and hawks of every kind, flocks of white pelicans, many varieties of songbirds, and, of course, the ubiquitous mockingbird. They all seem to thrive here. We also have alligators, but they tend to avoid all but the stupidest of humans.

Anyway, as I sat, not so much watching and listening as absorbing my surroundings, I couldn't help but think of Pope Francis and his first encyclical, Laudato Si. My immediate setting, while not as wildly pristine as a rain forest in New Guinea or the deep woods of Canada, was certainly not repellant. What were once farmers' fields filled with watermelons, and pastures in which horses and cattle grazed, are now well cared-for neighborhoods. Ponds and green space abound, as do the large live oak trees so common in this part of Florida. I found myself thinking that this transformation of the land from agrarian use to human habitat was not necessarily a step backward. As Christians we understand that man is also a part of creation; indeed, as revealed in Genesis, we are the very pinnacle of God's creative work. This places an awesome responsibility on us: to accept that creation is God's doing, that He "owns" it, and that we are called to be good stewards of all that He has given us.

For those of you who haven't read Laudato Si, and I assume that includes many of you, let me say that it's not a quick and easy read. The encyclical is long -- more than 40,000 words -- and I expect many copies will sit unread on a lot of bookshelves or computer hard drives. I managed to make my way through it, but spent an entire evening doing so. To digest its contents fully I will need to read it again much more slowly. My comments here, then, simply reflect my own first impressions.

When a pope speaks, people listen. But far too many listen less to the pope and more to their own biases and ideological preconceptions. We see this in the range of reactions (including mine) arising in response to what Pope Francis had to say.

Those who pitch their tents among the extreme environmentalists of the far left concentrate their praise on the pope's concern for what he calls the “present ecological crisis” abetted by a "throwaway culture" that contributes greatly to the earth's environmental deterioration. But many of these same folks -- at least those who years ago made the ideological transition from a failed Marxism to green environmentalism -- ignore the Gospel of Creation that forms the foundation of the pope's thinking on humanity's relationship with the earth. In other words, his environmentalism is fine, but why on earth did he have to inject it with God and Jesus Christ and the Gospel and Creation and all that other religious stuff? And so they simply ignore the latter and focus on the former.

Opposed to the environmentalists we hear the complaints of those critics who believe the pope has been co-opted either by far left socialists who blame capitalism for all the world's ills or by "wacko greens" who believe the earth would be a far better place without humanity. For these critics there is no environmental crisis, and even if there were, technology and the free market would solve any ecological problems that might arise. Because some, but certainly not all, of these people are believing Christians they find themselves conflicted by the pope's encyclical and its deep religious roots. They manage to resolve the conflict, appeasing themselves by saying that Pope Francis is, after all, not speaking ex cathedra. Indeed, for them Laudato Si is just the word of a man, not the Word of God, so they really don't have to accept this particular papal teaching. Most, therefore, will simply ignore everything the pope has to say.

Of course there have been other reactions to the encyclical, some favorable and some not. I suspect many of the initial batch of pundits simply reacted to the out of context snippets that appeared in the secular media. Honestly, because my initial exposure to the encyclical was in the form of leaked excerpts, my preconceived notions led me to some erroneous first impressions. There's no need to include them here.

I'm certainly not qualified to discuss every aspect of the encyclical. Like all of us I have my opinions, but I'm not a climatologist and cannot address the science on which Pope Francis relies heavily. The question many Catholics have already asked me is, "Do I have to accept everything the pope says in his encyclical?" I suppose the only correct answer is, "It depends."

When it comes to the science behind climate change and the pope's proposed public policy responses, an informed Catholic might disagree so long as that disagreement is based on a firm foundation. Given the continued debate within the scientific community on the causes and direction of climate change, I believe one might reasonably disagree with the pope on these issues. As for how society should respond, the pope himself recognizes that others might differ with him. After all, if history has shown us one thing it's that science is not static, and future advances in technology might well enable new and better approaches to the use of natural resources and the protection of the environment.

Unfortunately, too many people will focus on the more controversial aspects of the encyclical, elements that might well be overcome by future events, and ignore the crucial theological and moral underpinnings.

It's important to realize that papal concern for the environment did not begin with Pope Francis. Indeed, many of his concerns have been expressed by his predecessors and other Catholic thinkers. He begins by quoting his namesake, St. Francis of Assisi, whose Canticle of the Creatures calls the earth "our Sister Mother Earth, who sustains and governs us,”. Indeed, that same canticle gives the encyclical its name. 

Continuing his introductory comments Pope Francis refers to Pope Saint John XXIII's 1963 encyclical, Pacem in Terris, to Pope Paul VI's frequent references to humanity's poor environmental stewardship, to the ecological concerns expressed by Pope Saint John Paul II in several of his encyclicals, and to Pope Benedict XVI's demand that as Christians we openly recognize how our irresponsible behavior has damaged the environment. Pope Francis also quotes the Ecumenical Patriarch of the Orthodox Church, Bartholomew I of Constantinople, who has often addressed humanity's "sins against creation." In Bartholomew's words, “to commit a crime against the natural world is a sin against ourselves and a sin against God.”

In other words, the current pontiff's concerns are nothing new. As I read the encyclical I couldn't help but think of the late Jesuit theologian, Romano Guardini (1985-1968), who has had such a significant influence on my own thinking. Guardini was a prolific writer, but the theme of  two of his books in particular seem to resonate with Pope Francis: Letters from Lake Como (1926) and The End of the Modern World (1956). It wasn't until today that I discovered Pope Francis had spent years studying Guardini and his work. To summarize Guardini's thought, he believed the modern world had been transformed in a way that encouraged enmity between humanity and nature. Instead of living within God's creation and nurturing it as a good steward, modern man has decided he must control or master it.

Such themes are also evident in the writings of Feodor Dostoevsky,  J. R. R. Tolkien, C. S. Lewis and others who recognized that both unchecked capitalism and radical Marxism suffer from a common materialism that attempts to excise religion from the human spirit. For example, reading the encyclical, I'm reminded of the words of Dostoevsky's monk in the Brothers Karamazov:
"Love all God's creation, the whole and every grain of sand init. Love every leaf, every ray of God's light. Love the animals,love the plants, love everything. If you love everything, you willperceive the divine mystery in things. Once you perceive it, youwill begin to comprehend it better every day. And you will come atlast to love the whole world with an all-embracing love. Love theanimals: God has given them the rudiments of thought and joyuntroubled. Do not trouble it, don't harass them, don't deprive themof their happiness, don't work against God's intent. Man, do not prideyourself on superiority to the animals; they are without sin, and you,with your greatness, defile the earth by your appearance on it, andleave the traces of your foulness after you -- alas, it is true ofalmost every one of us! Love children especially, for they too aresinless like the angels; they live to soften and purify our heartsand, as it were, to guide us."
One gets the sense that Pope Francis has been greatly influenced by the thinking of such men as these, although he certainly has his own ideas on how it relates to the world today.

This post is already too long, so let me wrap it up with my agreements and disagreements. I agree with the pope's concerns about the world's deepening addiction to consumerism, about humanity's elites and their general disregard for the poor and the common good, and about the rise of technocrats and the misuse of science and the technology that flows from it. I also greatly appreciate the pope's focus on the environmental damage that one encounters, especially in the second and third world where the accession of power too often trumps everything else. Finally, we need to be reminded of our own place in God's creation, and of the responsibilities this places on us.

My concerns relate to the pope's belief that there is a scientific consensus about both global warming and its causes. His thinking seems to echo the kind of naive view of science often heard from Al Gore and others like him. Perhaps more importantly, though, the pope also, in seeming contradiction to his own warnings about the rise of technocrats, recommends that we come together globally, applying our technology to the environmental problems facing us. The problem with giving governments or global agencies the power to carry out such a worldwide mandate is that those who wield this power will almost surely misuse it. Even when applied with the best of intentions, such power usually leads to negative unintended consequences that often create a whole new set of problems. Lastly, I had hoped that Pope Francis, following the lead of his predecessors, would use this encyclical to teach his flock about how our faith and morality are affected by these issues plaguing the modern world. Instead, he has given us an encyclical that, at least in part, reminds one of the sort of quasi-political documents produced by committees at the United Nations.

Laudato Si will surely be studied, talked about, and written about for years to come. I trust this study will lead to a clearer understanding of man's place in the world and how best to address the problems we have created for ourselves. In the meantime, once it cools down this afternoon, I intend to take Maddie for another walk, thanking God for her and for all of His creation.

Monday, September 7, 2009

Must reads for Labor Day...and beyond

Another by Fr. Rutler. This time the always on-target Father George Rutler addresses all those public funerals for anti-Catholic Catholics -- you know, the show-case, celebration of his life funerals that resemble TV specials more than Catholic funeral liturgies. In this article Father Rutler leads us to the truth and has once again caused me to reexamine my own muddled thoughts on the subject. Click here to read his article.

Jacques Barzun. After you read Fr. Rutler's relatively brief online article, I urge you in the direction of something a bit more lengthy, an 800-page tome, From Dawn to Decadence: 500 Years of Western Cultural Life, 1500 to the Present, by the prolific and long-lived Jacques Barzun. Published in 2000 when Barzun was 92, the book is a sweeping and well-written examination of the last half-millennium of Western history. Of course, this one is more than a Labor Day reading and may well keep you occupied for a week or two. Here's a link to an interesting review of the book and Jacques Barzun's thought: From Dawn to Decadence

Fr. Aidan Nichols, O.P. Far too many Catholics consider the Old Testament as no longer relevant and consequently ignore it, assuming the only part of Holy Scripture worth reading is the New Testament. Ironically, this attitude is contradicted by the New Testament itself. Indeed, throughout the Gospels we find Jesus and the evangelists frequently referring to Old Testament writings, themes and people. Jesus even speaks of His mission as the fulfillment of the Law. The Early Church Fathers, too, were near unanimous in their assurance that all of the Old Testament pointed to Jesus Christ and His Church. I could go on, but Father Aidan Nichols has done the job far better than I ever could. His book, Lovely Like Jerusalem: The Fulfillment of the Old Testament in Christ and the Church, takes the reader on a unique journey through the Old Testament showing its direct relationship to the New. Father Nichols, a highly respected English, Dominican theologian and spiritual writer can always be counted on to educate and enlighten.

Romano Guardini. This great 20th century theologian (1885-1968), who had a significant influence on our present pope, was a prolific writer on all things theological and spiritual. But the work that has had more influence on my own thinking is his book, first published in the late 1950s, The End of the Modern World. In it Father Guardini looks at modern man's loss of faith and offers prophetic insights into what this will mean for all of us. His observations on both past and future are just the thing we need today as we face the ongoing conflict between Christian values and secular nihilism.

Thursday, July 9, 2009

Summer Reading Lists

OK, we're well into the summer and any summer reading list should probably have been posted back in May. My only excuse is that I live in Florida where it's summer most of the year and any attempt to define the start of the season just doesn't make a lot of sense. So without apology I offer my list now while there's still time to make it to the beach before you northerners experience the first snowfall.

Atheist Delusions by David Bentley Hart (Yale University Press, 2009). A wonderful book by a very smart man. He addresses the place of Christianity in transforming the ancient world and the potential repercussions of the present day neglect of Christianity's spiritual and moral values. Dr. Hart is currently a visiting professor in Theology at Providence College and the author of another wonderful book, The Beauty of the Infinite.

Latro in the Mist (Orb Books, 2003) and Soldier of Sidon (Tor Books, 2007) by Gene Wolfe. These two books (actually three since Latro in the Mist combines the two early novels of the series) will hold you spellbound. Written by Gene Wolfe, the undisputed (at least in my mind) best science fiction writer alive today, they tell the story of Latro, a Roman mercenary who roams through the pre-Christian ancient world experiencing rather marvelous things. Extremely well written and real pages-turners.

Letters from Lake Como (Eerdmans, 1994) and The End of the Modern World (Intercollegiate Studies Institute, 2001) by Romano Guardini. Although these two books by this late great 20th century theologian were written 30 years apart, I include them together because they should really be read consecutively. These prophetic works describe Guardini's vision of a future (actually today's present) in which secularism and Christianity battle for the soul of man.

The Spirit of Early Christian Thought
by Robert Louis Wilken (Yale University Press, 2005). A well written and informative book by this distinguished scholar of early Church history. A terrific read that offers excellent insights into the thinking of the early Church Fathers.

Chesterton and the Romance of Orthodoxy by William Oddie (Oxford University Press,2009). Another wonderful biography of G. K. Chesterton, the great Catholic apologist and writer on all subjects. Chesterton is the only author I know who could write about absolutely anything and make it interesting to the reader. The reason is that everything interested Chesterton, and all good things delighted him. Oddie's biography covers only the first 32 years of Chesterton's life (1874-1908), but these were the years of his intellectual and spiritual formation. If you're a Chesterton fan, you'll love this book. If you're not a Chesterton fan, read this book and you will be.

Pride and Prejudice (Ignatius Critical Edition) by Jane Austen (Ignatius Press, 2007). This edition of (in my opinion) the best novel by the greatest woman novelist who ever lived also includes a number of excellent critical essays by some of today's most insightful Austen scholars. I read this book at least once yearly, a habit I highly recommend. You might as well begin during the summer months.

These should keep you busy. Should you, however, decide that my selections are not your cup of tea, here's a collection of summer reading lists that should give you plenty of alternative choices: Click here.

Enjoy the summer, except you folks in the Northeast who I understand will not have a summer this year.

Blessings...