Tag: Pope Francis

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Seeking Wisdom in the Trump-Storm

It is easy to become anxious as political chaos churns. The present turmoil can cause us to lose sight of basic truths. But enduring values provide shelter from the storm.

The pursuit of wisdom offers tranquility in tumultuous times. Philosophy and religion are essential these days. Solace can be found in a wide variety of what I call (allong with my co-author Doug Soccio), “Archetypes of Wisdom.”

One useful source is Stoicism. Seneca explains: “It is only philosophy that makes the mind invincible, and places us out of the reach of fortune… This it is that reclaims the rage of our lusts, and sweetens the anxiety of our fears.”

The present moment is a time of misfortune, rage, and anxiety. Headlines blare with crises and scandals. Constitutional guardrails are breached, as a servile Congress plays patty-cake with its rubber stamps. Bizarre ideas are broadcast from the White House. Every day brings some new outrage.

The chaos of the present appears to be strategic. Trumpism has been described by The Guardian as a “chaos machine.” The chaotic strategy was explained by Steve Bannon as “flooding the zone with shit.” Bannon more recently said that every day of the new Trump regime should be a “day of thunder.” Keeping people in a defensive and reactive posture prevents organized response.

Anxiety is an impediment to wisdom. Careful, deliberate thought supplies a source of calm in the blizzard of bullshit. For some it may help to have the anchor of faith. But nonreligious people can find serenity in philosophy, even as the tempest rages.

Pope Francis offered a recent bit of serene sagacity. In a letter to American bishops he repudiates a narrow and mean-spirited approach to immigration. Francis insists that the essence of Christianity is universal love: “Jesus Christ, loving everyone with a universal love, educates us in the permanent recognition of the dignity of every human being, without exception.”

The Pope appears to be replying to Vice President J.D. Vance’s defense of Trumpian deportations. Vance had invoked the Catholic concept of ordo amoris (the ordering of love) to defend his “America First” ideology. Vance explained, “You love your family and then you love your neighbor, and then you love your community, and then you love your fellow citizens in your own country, and then after that, you can focus [on] and prioritize the rest of the world.”

The Pope rebutted Vance, explaining, “Christian love is not a concentric expansion of interests that little by little extend to other persons and groups… The true ordo amoris that must be promoted is that which we discover by meditating constantly on the parable of the “Good Samaritan” (cf. Lk 10:25-37), that is, by meditating on the love that builds a fraternity open to all, without exception.”

Much more could be said about Christian love and the parable of the Good Samaritan (I’ve discussed some of this here and here). But what I want to emphasize is the temperate, transcendental tone of the Pope’s remarks—and the importance of this philosophical debate about love and dignity.

Philosophy and religion look beyond the squabbles of the present moment. In speaking of the “infinite and transcendent dignity” of the human person, the Pope invokes a set of values that rises above the petty disputes of the day. The Pope’s cosmopolitan ethic transcends national borders and political parties. His focus is on fundamental claims about universal human rights.

Pope Francis also rebukes political power. In his letter, he says, “What is built on the basis of force, and not on the truth about the equal dignity of every human being, begins badly and will end badly.” He explains that it is a distortion of genuine social life to focus on “the will of the strongest as the criterion of truth.”

These ideas are not unique to Francis or Catholicism. Plato also rejected the idea that power was the criterion of truth and justice. And the call for love of the neighbor and respect for human dignity can be found in other religious traditions, and in the secular notion of human rights. Eleanor Roosevelt tied these ideas together, saying, “We can establish no real trust between nations until we acknowledge the power of love above all other power.”

Let’s conclude with a call to seek insight in religion, philosophy, and the great archetypes of wisdom. The antidote to chaos is wisdom that transcends the moment. When the zone is flooded with shit, we rise above by remembering that true and good things endure. We should love our neighbors and strive to be just. The bullshit of the powerful, and the thunder of the loudmouths can be overwhelming. But when the storm is over, wisdom, truth, and justice will remain.

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War is the problem

The upsurge of protests on college campuses has been too narrowly focused. These protests have picked sides in the current war, without addressing the larger problem of war itself.

The challenge is not merely Hamas or Israel. Rather, what needs to be addressed is the stupidity of war itself. Violence does not solve problems. But we tend to believe it does. This faith in war lies at the root of current controversies, including the growing threat of violence in the protests, counter-protests, and police crackdowns.

Social and political problems are not solved by military force. And yet, many people have a simplistic and foundational faith in warfare. This bellicose faith rests on a false assumption, which holds that physical power is ultimately what matters most. And it is reinforced by a world that celebrates violence in culture, history, and politics.

Violence is animalistic and subhuman. Human beings are animals, of course. Our bodies bleed and suffer. So, we may be coerced in the short run by physical force or by threats of violence. But coercion and violence breed resentment and animosity without resolving spiritual, political, and social conflicts. Physical violence rips through the human world, aiming at the body rather than the spirit. The logic of war is about killing and dominating rather than about changing hearts and minds.

Human dignity demands respect for reason and autonomy. Ultimately what makes us human is our ability to be persuaded by rational arguments and by human emotions linked to justice, compassion, and love.

Some people argue that violence can be justified as an appropriate response to violence or injustice. The “just war theory” maintains that war can be justified in self-defense or to protect others from harm. That theory also teaches that war must be limited, proportional, and only directed at legitimate targets. There are important lessons to be learned from the study of the just war theory (as Jennifer Kling and I have discussed in our recent book). Just war theory would condemn atrocities committed by Hamas on October 7. The same theory also condemns atrocities committed by Israel in its brutal response.

But beyond these obvious judgments lurks the fact that war is subhuman. The current conflict exposes a common historical truth, which is that most wars fail to be just. Limited violence may be justified in theory. But in practice actually wars often exceed those limits. And in the long run the solution cannot be simply to continue to fight wars. Humanity demands a better way.

That better way is the path of nonviolence and the broad commitment to peace that is known as pacifism. Advocates of the nonviolent path have long called for the abolition of war. This way of thinking may seem naïve to those who have faith in war. But pacifism has a strong lineage and has been advocated by thinkers such as Tolstoy, Gandhi, William James, Jane Addams, Bertrand Russell, and Martin Luther King, Jr. Albert Einstein said, in 1952, that “war is no better than common murder” and that “the only solution is to abolish both war and the threat of war.”

More recently, political scientist John Mueller has concluded, “war has come to seem not only futile, destructive, and barbaric, but profoundly stupid.” And Pope Francis said, “the moment has come to abolish war, to erase it from human history before it erases human history.”

The critique of war as a subhuman way of solving human problems deserves much further reflection. But in the media, on campus, and in the congress, pacifism is rarely mentioned. Instead, the hawks hog the stage, egging each other on.

War will not be abolished overnight. The war abolition project demands a radical re-evaluation of our understanding of human nature, political life, the value of nation-states, and the power of the military-industrial complex. This is a multigenerational project.

Nor can war abolition be adequately reduced to a protest chant or slogan. But the tenor of the current protest might improve if war abolition and the general critique of violence were central themes. This would direct our attention beyond current hostility toward the whole system of war and the faith in violence that lies at the root of these conflicts.

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Humility and Autonomy in the Moral Life

Fresno Bee, October 29, 2023

The moral life unfolds between humility and autonomy. Should we view ourselves as limited dependent beings, who must accept our mortality and fragility? Or should we view human beings as free agents, who can and should take control of our own destiny?

Pope Francis directed our attention to humility in his recent discussion of the climate crisis called “Laudate Deum.” The pope says, “Let us stop thinking of human beings as autonomous, omnipotent and limitless, and begin to think of ourselves differently, in a humbler but more fruitful way.”

Francis is worried about humanity’s arrogant and rapacious relationship to the natural world. Our lack of humility can be applied to a number of contemporary moral problems. Arrogant self-assertion is imposing, cranky and violent. A lack of humility leads to hatred, intolerance, and war. It may explain a general erosion of sexual restraint that occurs when people view other people’s bodies as playgrounds for exploitation. It can explain consumer debt, drug use and other problems of self-restraint.

The pope warns us not to view ourselves as limitless or omnipotent. But we want to do whatever we want, whenever we want to. In doing so, we ignore the suffering we cause to others — and to ourselves. And we cut ourselves off from transcendent sources of meaning. Francis suggests that pride prevents us from finding God in the wonder of creation.

Human hubris has often been viewed as a moral and spiritual problem. Immoderate self-assertion has been criticized by other religious and spiritual traditions. Buddhists warn, for example, that desire and egocentric attachment cause suffering. The basic idea is that arrogance and self-importance get in the way of compassion and enlightenment.

But humility is not the only thing that matters in a meaningful life. A different approach focuses on the importance of autonomy, self-respect and a celebration of human power. Humility can become passive. It can leave systems of injustice in place, while deferring to the status quo. The celebration of autonomy, pride and ambition was behind the American revolution, as the revolutionaries basically said, “We’re not going to take it anymore.”

This kind of assertiveness inspires abused wives to leave their husbands. It encourages oppressed people to flee or fight back. Pride is connected to ambition. It is what causes inventors, artists and entrepreneurs to jump out of bed in the morning and get to work.

Autonomy is fundamental to a number of moral systems, ancient and modern. Defenders of human rights emphasize human freedom, creativity and self-determination. Autonomy is also linked to self-control. The ancient Stoic philosophers claimed that we have the capacity to control our emotions, our thoughts and our behavior. The world may cause us pain and suffering. But the Stoic philosophers claimed we could retreat to the “inner citadel” of the self, where self-mastery always remains possible.

Autonomy is about self-rule or self-government. This is a central idea for modern moral thinking, which encourages us to be self-governing. The great German philosopher Immanuel Kant said we have to have the courage to take control of our own lives. His motto was “sapere aude,” which means dare to be wise.

It is too easy to let others tell you what to think, what to believe, and what to do. But enlightenment demands that we figure things out for ourselves. Kant explained that we should obey moral laws not because they are given to us by some external authority. Rather, we need to obey moral laws which we give to ourselves.

Autonomy is an exciting value that is connected to pride, ambition and a creative and revolutionary spirit. But autonomy alone is insufficient. As Francis warns, there is a risk that in pursuing autonomy we will come to think that we are omnipotent and limitless. Of course, we are not. Human beings are fragile and fallible. We make mistakes. We depend on others. We suffer and die.

The resources of this world are not limitless. We are not omnipotent. We should respect our limits. But ambition and pride are sources of innovation and progress. The great challenge of human life is to weave humility and autonomy together in a way that encourages compassion and innovation, love and ambition, self-restraint and pride.

Read more at: https://www.fresnobee.com/opinion/readers-opinion/article281098058.html#storylink=cpy

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Just War, Pacifism, and the Abolition of War

Fresno Bee, Oct 15, 2023

As war and terrorism rear their ugly heads, it’s useful to recall basic moral arguments about war and peace. The just-war theory teaches that it is wrong to deliberately target noncombatants. So, the Hamas attacks that assassinated and kidnapped Israeli civilians are wrong.

The just-war theory allows for targeted retaliation in response to aggression. But it does not allow indiscriminate violence. So, if Israel responds indiscriminately, it also is wrong to do so.

Critics may suggest that the just-war theory is a feckless attempt to regulate the inherent brutality of war. So-called “realists” say that moral judgment does not apply in war, where the goal is attaining supremacy. Realists maintain that power trumps morality and anything goes in pursuit of victory, including terrorism and terror bombing.

The just-war theory rejects this. It demands that violence be limited to legitimate targets and minimized by rules of proportionality. These limits aim to prevent escalation and atrocity.

But what does a military force do when responding to those who do not play by moral rules? Some militants and militaries ignore moral limits. They employ terror tactics and commit war crimes, as Russia has in Ukraine. It is tempting to respond in kind. But tit-for-tat retaliation is wrong. An atrocity committed as retaliation for an atrocity still remains an atrocity. And retaliatory violence tends to provoke further atrocity.

Pacifists have often pointed out that the logic of war tends toward escalation and depravity. Pacifists argue that few, if any, actual wars live up to the standards of the just-war theory. Pacifists also suggest that nonviolence can be effective.

The critics of war also argue that war should be abolished. In 1950s, at the dawn of the nuclear age, Albert Einstein said, “the only solution is to abolish both war and the threat of war.” Pope Francis reiterated this idea last year, saying, “The moment has come to abolish war, to erase it from human history before it erases human history.”

War abolition may seem a naïve goal at present. And it is not clear how nonviolence can effectively stop terrorists and criminal armies. The realists will say that in a world at war, the only thing that matters is supremacy. The just-war theorists worry that realism is a recipe for moral disaster. And the pacifists complain that it is all a kind of madness.

To cure that madness, pacifists call for radical change. War abolition would require the construction of just and equitable global systems. More fundamentally, it would require a change of human consciousness such that terrorism and war are simply unimaginable.

Abolishing war would be like abolishing slavery. It would require the evolution of our economic, cultural, and political systems. The analogy with slavery reminds us that brutal systems can be abolished. But it also reminds us of the extent of the challenge. Slavery existed in human culture for millennia. In America it took a terrible Civil War to abolish it. War has a seemingly more permanent hold on the human spirit. War will not be abolished simply because Einstein or the pope wishes it were so.

And yet, the pacifists argue that this is what we must work toward. In his argument against war, Pope Francis said, “War is a cancer that feeds on itself.” Cancer provides another useful analogy. Cancer is avoided by preventative health care, including fundamental changes in lifestyle. By the time chemotherapy is needed, it’s already too late. The same is true of war. To abolish the cancer of war, we need the preventative measures of justice, equity and love. By the time the bombs are flying, it’s already too late.

The just-war theory is a guide for present emergencies. This theory condemns terrorism and war crimes. It allows for limited and targeted responses to aggression. But history shows that war fighting often exceeds those limits. So, the just-war theory is not the end of the story. We must also continue to imagine a better future.

In the long run, we must find nonviolent ways to prevent atrocity and reduce animosity. We must cultivate global justice and a sense of our common humanity so that terrorism and war become unimaginable.

Read more at: https://www.fresnobee.com/opinion/readers-opinion/article280473439.html#storylink=cpy

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What does it mean to believe in Christmas?

Someone recently asked me, “Do you believe in Christmas?” We were talking about religion. As we wandered in the depths of theology, my friend said, “But what about Christmas? Do you believe in that?”

This struck me as a strange question. What would it mean to believe in Christmas? Is the question about the virgin birth and the metaphysics of incarnation? Or is it about Santa and the elves? Or is it about something else, like love and hope? Maybe it is all of these.

Skeptics have criticized the traditional Christian narrative. Jamie Carter, a science writer, recently asserted that there is no such thing as a supernatural star. Carter suggests the Christmas star may have been a bright conjunction of planets or a passing comet. But that deflationary account ignores the star’s symbolic value. To ask if that star was really a supernova is to miss the point of the story.

Scholars have debunked many aspects of the Christmas story. Bart Ehrman argues, for example, that we don’t really know the year, the date, or even the season of Jesus’s birth. But one need not be a skeptic to understand that Christmas includes myth and legend. Ten years ago, Pope Benedict XVI published a book explaining that there were likely no animals present at Jesus’ birth. The animals were added to the story for symbolic value and dramatic effect.

The current Pope, Francis, wrote about the nativity scene a couple of years ago, recounting the creation of the first Christmas creche by Saint Francis of Assisi. Saint Francis wanted a symbolic representation of the Biblical story. According to the pope, the nativity scene is a symbol that brings light into the darkness.

So were there really three wise men, shepherds, and a baby asleep on the hay? The Bible’s Gospels don’t agree about the details of the nativity. And when I visited the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem, our tour guide told us that Jesus was born in a cave, not in a wooden stable. As the years pass, stories are repeated and embellished. Churches are built atop ancient grottos. And tales are retold and repackaged for the present generation.

Much of what we enjoy about that Christmas has been adorned by art and imagination. Christmas includes “Silent Night” and “White Christmas.” There’s also Charlie Brown, Scrooge, and the Grinch. In the shopping malls, Santa gives out candy canes. We hang lights on the outside of our homes and bring trees into our living rooms. None of that is in the Bible. But Christmas is all of this, and more.

But is there a kernel of truth that we might believe in? The theologians tell us it is about the incarnation of God. But what exactly does that mean? And how are we supposed to get our heads around that singular and mysterious event?

Maybe the attempt to nail things down points us in the wrong direction. Human culture and religion are expansive. They grow and develop. New songs, images, and interpretations appear and add to our experience. This creative, hospitable, and joyful spirit is surely part of what it means to say that the angels are singing about goodwill toward all.

Christmas bears witness to the creative spirit. Saint Francis contributed to it. So did Franz Gruber when he composed “Silent Night.” So did Charles Dickens, when he created Scrooge and Tiny Tim. We also witness the Christmas spirit in “White Christmas”, a tune by Isaiah Berlin, a Jewish immigrant from Russia. Charles Schulz showed us Linus caring for Charlie Brown’s sad little tree. And Dr. Seuss reminds us that the Grinch can be redeemed.

And each family has its own traditions and stories, ornaments and favorite foods. When we celebrate Christmas with our loved ones, we renew that creative and joyful spirit. This is what the exchange of gifts is all about. It is a process of sharing joy, hope, and love.

December is cold and dark. Without Christmas, these days would be bleak. But we warm our hearts by filling the night with laughter and song. The Christmas star is more than a passing comet. It is a symbol that reminds us to seek light in the darkness.

Read more at: https://www.fresnobee.com/opinion/readers-opinion/article270075617.html#storylink=cpy