Some scattered thoughts towards a philosophical understanding of the importance of tradition

St. Thomas considers memory to be a part of prudence. This is because prudence deals with contingent things, and so it does not focus on what is true always but rather on what is true in most cases. But to know what is true in most cases requires experience, and what is experience if not the memory of many things?

Now, prudence and the moral virtues are related. The moral virtues cannot be without prudence, since living in accord with the moral virtues requires more than just being directed towards their ends. It also requires that we make the correct choices necessary to achieve these ends, and it is the virtue of prudence that directs these choices. Yet it is also true that prudence cannot exist without the moral virtues, since the making of correct choices requires that there first be a proper end that we are trying to achieve, and it is the moral virtues habituate man's actions towards a proper end.

Now, following Cicero, St. Thomas classifies memory as a part of prudence (ST II-II, 48, 1 corpus). This is because prudence comes from both experience and time, and we acquire experience through memory (ST II-II, 49, 1 corpus).

Now, politics is a species of ethics. It is a practical science aimed at directing the actions of men, insofar as they act as and are members of a community. And practical sciences require practical wisdom, or prudence.

Now, as previously stated, prudence requires memory. But a community may be hundreds of years old, even if those in charge of governing it are not. Now, if those in charge of governing the community rely only on there own memories to guide their actions, they may repeat many mistakes that the community has already suffered and try to solve problems that have already been solved.

This is were tradition comes in. Tradition, which is the sum of the way things have been done in a community and the stories behind why these things have been done the way they have, is like the community's memory. Tradition shows those who govern the community how the community responded to certain situations previously, and what the outcomes of those situations were.

Now, this does not imply that those who govern a community must act exactly as the tradition says. Memory is a part of prudence, but it is not all of prudence. There are many reasons that the tradition may have to be modified. Perhaps the situation that the tradition has previously worked well in has changed. Perhaps the tradition did not meet the needs of the common good as well as it needed too. In such cases the prudent option would be to modify the tradition as seems necessary.

Tradition, however, must develop organically. The natural virtues are means between the extremes of too much and too little. If we miss the mark, prudence is the virtue that allows us to modify our actions so that the next time we act we will be closer to the mean that is the virtue. Memory gives prudence the necessary experience needed to correctly modify our actions.

If we throw out tradition, rather than adjust it as necessary to the community's current circumstances, it will have the same effect on the community as the loss of memory would have on an individual. The community would no longer have the necessary experience to act with prudence, and will instead be forced to try to acquire it all over again.

A Thought on the Second Greatest Commandment

"And the second is like to this: Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself" (Matthew xxii.39).

"And as you would that men should do to you, do you also to them in like manner" (Luke vi.32).

The second greatest commandment, after "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, and with thy whole mind" (Matthew xxii.37), is the first quote at the beginning of this entry. The second quote is another statement of it, which, in this formulation, is often called the Golden Rule. I have been thinking about this commandment a bit.

Today people often toss his commandment around very haphazardly. You often hear it when you state the importance of passing laws to buttress certain moral principles and outlaw certain grave evils, or when you speak of the justice of a punishment. The implication is that if you were the person who wanted to do the immoral acts or who was going to receive the punishment, you would not want these acts proscribed or this punishment to be administered.

The error in this is the fact that the commandment is not simply subjective. It cannot be, for Jesus Christ is God, Who is the ultimate foundation of the true, the good and the beautiful. He is the way, the truth and the life (John xiv.6). He would not give a commandment that would lead to relativism. Rather, we must apply the commandment in accord with right reason.

This is why those I have previously mentioned argue falsely when they try to argue using this commandment. Because if the person whose acts are being proscribed or the person who is being justly punished were to view their situation with right reason, they would want the the help the law offered in overcoming their vice, they would want to be justly punished so as to expiate the evil their actions have caused.

If we want to be subjective about it, I can only look at my own life. There were a number of times those with authority over me placed restraints upon my actions or punished me for things I had done. At the time, of course, I would have said that I did not want these things to happen to me. But looking back now, when I am a little less of a fool--not much less certainly, but a little--I can see that these restraints and punishments helped in some way to discourage me of vice and form me, little by little, in the path of virtue. As such, if I ever have others under my authority in such circumstances, then I will do my best to prudently and justly restrain and punish those who need it. Because that is what I, insofar as I am thinking in accord with right reason, want others to do for me.

On Democracy

If the political life is a subset of the active life, which it is, then it is governed by the 4 cardinal virtues. The ruling cardinal virtue is prudence. Without prudence, justice, fortitude and temperance are not possible.

Prudence deals with particulars, including the particular of "which type of regime can best govern this particular group of people at this time." The answer to this question is not limited to "democracy." The idea that a monarchy or an aristocracy is inferior to a democracy on principle is not grounded in reality. Better in practice for some communities? Certainly. Better in practice for many communities that exist today? Maybe. Better always and everywhere on principle? No.

It is an error to turn the prudential judgment of "this type of regime is the one best suited to govern this people at this time" into the universal principle of "this type of regime is superior to all other types of regimes that exist, have existed, or will exist." This error has its roots in the sin of pride. This pride ignores all circumstances and particulars and believes your people and your regime to be the universal form for the just society and the common good. To do this is to replace reality with an illusion. It is an offense against right reason and the truth of things.

Proof for the immortality of the human soul

The following proof has been derived using St. Thomas Aquinas' Summa Theologiae, I, 75.

Every intellect is that which can know all corporeal things.
Every human soul is an intellect.
Therefore, every human soul is that which can know all corporeal things.

Nothing that can know all corporeal things is corporeal.
Every human soul is that which can know all corporeal things.
Therefore, no human soul is corporeal.
Which is to say that every human soul is non-corporeal.

Every non-corporeal thing is that which has an operation that body does not share.
Every human soul is non-corporeal.
Therefore, every human soul is that which has an operation body does not share.

Everything that has an operation body does not share is that which has an operation in itself.
Every human soul is that which has an operation body does not share.
Therefore, every human soul is that which has an operation in itself.

Everything that has an operation in itself is that which subsists in itself.
Every human soul is that which has an operation in itself.
Therefore, every human soul is that which subsists in itself.

Everything that subsists in itself is a substance.
Every human soul is that which subsists in itself.
Therefore, every human soul is a substance.

No substance is corruptible per accidens.
Every human soul is a substance.
Therefore, no human soul is corruptible per accidens.

Every form is an act.
Every human soul is a form.
Therefore, every human soul is an act.

Every act is that which exists by virtue of itself.
Every human soul is an act.
Therefore, every human soul is that which exists by virtue of itself.

Nothing that exists by virtue of itself is corruptible per se.
Every human soul is that which exists by virtue of itself.
Therefore, no human soul is corruptible per se.

If the human soul is corruptible, then the human soul is corruptible per se or the human soul is corruptible per accidens.
No human soul is corruptible per se and no human soul is corruptible per accidens.
Therefore, no human soul is corruptible.
Which is to say that the human soul is incorruptible

That which is incorruptible is immortal.
The human soul is incorruptible.
Therefore, the human soul is immortal.

On the definition of "unnatural"

When speaking about various theological and philosophical topics, such as anthropology and ethics, a major source of argument is the use of the term "unnatural." Many a modern man will argue that something is not unnatural because it is a phenomenon that occurs in the natural world.

This is not how the term in used in traditional theological and philosophical discourse. Rather, when we speak of nature, we are speaking of a thing's formal and final cause, insofar as the form of a thing is the principle that moves the thing towards its proper end. Thus, when we say that something is "unnatural," we mean that it causes a thing to act against attaining its proper end.

Thus, it can be entirely correct to call certain urges, inclinations and actions unnatural, even though they appear as phenomenon in the natural world.

Error has no rights

Every evil is a privation.
Every error is an evil (of the intellect).
Therefore, every error is a privation.


Every privation is a lack of being (in a being that should have what it lacks).
Every error is a privation.
Therefore, every error is a lack of being.


No lack of being has rights (because nothing can be truly predicated of that which does not exist).
Every error is a lack of being.
Therefore, no error has rights.

My problem with the so-called "existential fallacy"

If we're not actually talking about things, then it's not philosophy, it's just word games.

If something doesn't exist, then nothing can be truly predicated of it. The problem with the following syllogism:

All rational beings are persons.
All Martians are rational.
Therefore, some Martians are persons.

is not that I have assumed existential import, thus committing a formal fallacy. The problem is that the minor premise is false. It is false because Martians do not exist.* Therefore, nothing can truly be predicated of them.

It is not a good idea to mathematize and abstract logic to the point where we forget the primacy of being

*If we ever discover that there are Martians, I will obviously have to change my example.

A valid argument

1. If you do not have faith, you will not be saved (Eph 2.8)

2. If you do not do works, you do not have faith (Jas 2.17)

3. If you do not do works, you will not be saved (2,1 HS)

Human Flourishing and the Liturgy

The topic of this essay will be human flourishing and its relationship to the liturgy. It will be philosophical insofar as I will use certain insights gained from philosophy. It will be theological insofar as any discussion of the liturgy must take into account theology and Divine Revelation. I will begin by defining the term “human flourishing.” I will then examine it in terms of both philosophy and theology. Finally, I will try to use the concept of human flourishing to shed some light on the true purpose of the liturgy.

Let us first define what we mean when we speak of “human flourishing.” Something is said to flourish when it grows, thrives, and prospers. These words all imply life and action. But we do not say a thing flourishes when it performs just any action. Rather, we judge a thing's flourishing in terms of what it is, in terms of its form. Flourishing, then, is action in accord with a thing's form.

Now, the actions that are proper to a thing are actions that lead it to the attainment of its end. Formal cause is oriented towards final cause. Thus, we can say that a thing flourishes insofar as it is moved towards, and attains, its end. Applying this definition of flourishing to humanity, we come to see that “human flourishing” is another name for man's motion towards, and attainment of, his proper end.

However, this definition of human flourishing does us no good if we are unable to say what the proper end of man is. For the answer to this question I will turn to Aristotle, who tells us that happiness is what all men seek.[1] This answer certainly corresponds to reality. When you question any man on the reason for his actions, sooner or later he will tell you that his ultimate goal was to be happy.

Yet to say that human flourishing is equivalent to happiness has still shed very little light on the term. For when we question men on what happiness is, we find that we receive a variety of answers. After proving that happiness is not those things that it is most commonly thought to be, Aristotle spends the rest of the Nicomachean Ethics exploring what happiness is. He concludes that happiness is the activity of our highest part (the intellect), aiming at its highest object (the first cause).[2] In short, happiness is contemplating God.

Now, we can see that over the course of history men have used their reason to contemplate God under a variety of names: the Good, the One, the Prime Mover, Self-thinking Thought, etc. While we must admit that all these ideas of God have come with some admixture of error, we must also admit the truth of the words of St. Paul: “For the invisible things of [God], from the creation of the world, are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made; [H]is eternal power also, and divinity: so that they are inexcusable.”[3]

But with the coming of God's Revelation, especially the Incarnation of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, we see that perfect happiness is unattainable in this life. It is not just that it is difficult. It is not just that we are likely to make errors, even those of us who are great philosophers, such as Plato and Aristotle. Even with the fullness of Divine Revelation, even with the Church and the Sacraments, it is impossible for us to attain perfect happiness in this life. We know this by the words of Revelation itself: “We see now through a glass in a dark manner; but then face to face.”[4]

This is not to say that our activities as philosophers and theologians are useless. By the use of right reason applied to nature we can know true things about God as the first cause of all beings, as well as many of His attributes. By the use of right reason applied to Divine Revelation we can better understand many things that God has revealed about Himself throughout Salvation History. Both activities can be used to explain and defend the truth of our faith, and to help others accept the grace that God offers them. And both philosophy and theology, when done out of love for He Who is Truth, can be sources of grace, which can help us attain our final end.

Now let us take our understanding of human flourishing and apply it to the liturgy. While it is true that we are unable to achieve total and complete happiness in this life, we come the closest to this perfect happiness when we properly participate in the liturgy. The Second Vatican Council's Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, Sacrosanctum Concilium, called the liturgy “the summit toward which the activity of the Church is directed”.[5] It states, “In the earthly liturgy we take part in a foretaste of that heavenly liturgy which is celebrated in the holy city of Jerusalem toward which we journey as pilgrims, where Christ is sitting at the right hand of God, a minister of the holies and of the true tabernacle”.[6]

The Second Vatican Council also called for “the faithful [to] take part [in the liturgy] fully aware of what they are doing, actively engaged in the rite, and enriched by its effects.”[7] It states, “Mother Church earnestly desires that all the faithful should be led to that fully conscious, and active participation in liturgical celebrations which is demanded by the very nature of the liturgy.”[8] Finally, it says, “In the restoration and promotion of the sacred liturgy, this full and active participation by all the people is the aim to be considered before all else”.[9]

The question that has caused much division in the intervening years since the council has been the definition of “full and active participation” in the liturgy. To answer this question we should turn to those philosophical and theological tools that we have in our possession. At the same time, we should turn towards the tradition of the Church and to the Second Vatican Council itself. I will now attempt to do so.

Happiness is the activity of our intellect contemplating the best and highest truth, God, the first cause of all creation. Insofar as a taste of happiness is attainable in this life, it is attainable through contemplating God, as far as we can know Him through reason and Divine Revelation. Through the liturgy, we attain the best taste of the Heaven, the best taste of happiness. It seems to me that the clearest answer to the question of what constitutes full and active participation in the sacred liturgy is one word: contemplation. In the liturgy we can contemplate Him not just as He is knowable through His creation. Not even just as He is knowable through what He has revealed to us through Sacred Scripture. In the liturgy we can contemplate Him as He stands before us, in His flesh and in His blood, though they are veiled under the appearance of simple bread and wine. And since love proceeds from knowledge, it follows that through the liturgy we can love Him more.

This also seems to be the understanding of active participation that has been handed down by tradition. For example, in his 1947 encyclical letter Mediator Dei Pope Pius XII stressed the fact that “the chief element of divine worship must be interior.”[10] He went on to state, “It is an error, consequently, and a mistake to think of the sacred liturgy as merely the outward or visible part of divine worship or as an ornamental ceremonial.”[11] Finally, he continues by saying “that God cannot be honored worthily unless the mind and heart turn to Him in quest of the perfect life”.[12]

This is not to say that outward participation has no place in the liturgy. Earlier in this same encyclical, Pope Pius XII states, “The worship rendered by the Church to God must be, in its entirety, interior as well as exterior. It is exterior because the nature of man as a composite of body and soul requires it to be so.”[13] But our internal participation in the liturgy is more important than our external participation, since the latter without the former is worthless and condemnable.[14]

Moreover, this interpretation seems to be born out by Sacrosanctum Concilium itself. To see this one need only read the opening paragraph of the document. There it states, “It is of the essence of the Church that she be… eager to act and yet intent on contemplation”.[15] Further on in this paragraph it continues by saying that “action [is directed and subordinated to] contemplation”.[16]

Again, my point is not that we should eliminate outward participation. But my point is that we must be careful not to make outward participation our dominant understanding of active participation. The most important thing is for each and every person at the Mass to be able to inwardly orient himself towards the contemplation and worship of God.

In his Christmas address to the Roman Curia, delivered on December 22, 2005, Pope Benedict XVI said that the years since the Second Vatican Council have seen two competing theories of interpretation. The first views the council as a breach with the Church’s tradition and interprets it as such, substituting what they think the council should have said for what its documents do say. The second interprets the council documents in light of the Church’s tradition, seeing the council as a continuation of the Church’s unfolding of the Deposit of Faith. Pope Benedict said that the first view was unacceptable, for it leaves us with two churches, one before the council and another after, rather than the single Church of Christ. Endorsing the second view, he called for the Church to understand the council within the continuity of its 2000-year history.[17]

This paper has been my attempt to follow the Pope’s call. As such, I have brought my knowledge and intelligence, however feeble they may be, to bear on an issue that is dear to my heart and important to the Church, the issue of the Divine Liturgy, of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. In this, as in all things, I submit myself to the Holy Catholic Church, Mother and Teacher, and to the authority of the Bishop of Rome.

---

[1] Nicomachean Ethics, I, 4.

[2] Ibid., X, 7.

[3] Romans I, 20. (All Scripture quotations are from the Douay-Rheims.)

[4] I Corinthians XIII, 12.

[5] Vatican II, Sacrocsanctum Concilium, 10.

[6] Ibid., 8. The footnote to this passage references Apocalypse XXI, 2; Colossians III, 1; and Hebrews VIII, 2.

[7] Ibid., 11.

[8] Ibid., 14.

[9] Ibid.

[10] Pius XII, Mediator Dei, 24.

[11] Ibid., 25.

[12] Ibid.,26.

[13] Ibid., 23.

[14] Cf. Ibid. 24; Mark VII, 6; Isaias XXIX, 13.

[15] Vatican II, Sacrocsanctum Concilium, 1.

[16] Ibid.

[17] Benedict XVI, Christmas greetings to the Members of the Roman Curia and Prelature.