Thinking About God Is Difficult, But Definitely Worth It

"Man's ultimate end, according to Aristotle, consists in this knowledge of the order and cause of the universe; and for the Christian it consists in the beatific vision of God; for 'what is there which may not be seen in seeing Him who sees all things'?" - Ven. Fulton J. Sheen in God and Intelligence in Modern Philosophy

I. Natural theology is inherently difficult.

Theology is the study of God. Natural theology is the study of God conducted solely by natural reason. Reason is the use of the mind to think things through, using our sense experience and the laws of logic. Natural reason is that reason which man can perform without the use of supernatural aid – without divine revelation. Therefore, natural theology is the study of God conducted solely via that reason which man can perform without the use of divine revelation. Thus, the truths of natural theology apply to all men, regardless of their culture, their language, their ethnicity, their upbringing, etc. Just as the laws of physics apply to all, the definite truths of natural theology apply to all – including all claims to divine revelation.

Thus, natural theology is breathtakingly exciting. It's an adventure of the mind's use at its highest level, into the greatest metaphysical question it can probe into and ponder of – that of God's existence and His relationship to the world.

However, with natural theology, as with any exciting adventure, there will be challenges. The primary difficulty is one which afflicts those "educated" in the systems set up by "education experts" since approximately World War II.

The primary weakness of the modern mind is of precisely that attribute of the mind which is most necessary for thinking about God: reasoning in the abstract while staying logically sound.

The best analogy I can come up with for now is that of swimming. At first, a novice swimmer's lungs are not yet well developed; she must rise frequently to take breaths. However, if she is diligent in her practice, she will soon find that she can stay underwater for longer. As her lungs strengthen, she finds herself freer underwater. Our minds' capacity for abstract reasoning are our lungs; the exciting world of thinking about God is the underwater. As we immerse ourselves for longer periods of time in that kind of thought, we will find ourselves more used to it – until, soon enough, it becomes nearly second nature.

II. That natural theology is difficult does not mean that natural theology is unintelligible.

III. It is right and just for man to pursue beauty.

IV. It is right and just for man to pursue goodness.

V. The worldview sketched by natural theology is beautiful.

VI. Christian revelation takes the worldview sketched by natural theology, baptizes, thereby transforming an already beautiful worldview into that of a possibility of communion with the divine.

VII. The worldview sketched out by natural theology is good.

VIII. If you don't yet grasp natural theology, keep trying; it's worth it.

On The Beauty of Catholicism: Gregorian Chant

Throughout the 2,000-year history of the Catholic Church, many converts were first attracted by its beauty. Originally, before the Church was even legal, let alone possessed any temporal and earthly power, the Church's teaching on the dignity of man in the eyes of God led to a life of simple and constant love in Christian communities. Men and women saw the way Christians lived and remarked, "Look how these Christians love one another". This love for God, for humanity, and for God's creation – a creation which is intrinsically good – was, and is, the most convincing form of evangelization the world has ever seen.

As the Church progressed through history – nay, as the Church progressed history – opportunities to develop this radical message of love presented themselves. Christian art, sculpture, poetry, literature, music, and architecture created a tapestry oriented to God, the source of Truth, Goodness, Beauty, and Love. 

I must confess, and do so only too quickly and with only too much enthusiasm, that the beauty of the Church is what captured my soul. Yes, beauty can overpower even the soul of an atheist who bought his ticket for the final destination from atheism: nihilism. "Only the lover sings"; for many in our post-modern, post-meaning, post-moral culture today, only beauty will save.

As an example, consider Gregorian chant. When I was first becoming intrigued by the faith, I stumbled across the following compilation of various Gregorian chants on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W-hrBhA4XkM. 

I had always appreciated the power of chant. I was raised in a devoutly Hindu family; chants - bhajans - served as invaluable transporters to transcendence. In particular, I was instructed in the Vishnu Sahasranama ("The Thousand Names of Vishnu") in middle school and the beautiful rhyme, rhythm, and radiance of the poetry burned in me a love for the decelerating and concentrating power of devotional chant. I could always find refuge in the Sahasranama: as poetry, my mind, oriented to the beautiful by God the Father, easily found its way to it. Indeed, I see the Vishnu Sahasranama as one of the best expressions of divinity humanity has ever stumbled upon - or, perhaps, given.

Given that natural beauty of chant, Gregorian chant takes it a step further: it points always to a supernatural reality, one which comprises the alpha (start) and omega (end) of the world – Christ Jesus, the eternal Word of God made flesh. 

You or God? You will worship either, so choose rightly.

Joseph Pearce has written a good essay on the key difference between the relativist and realist approach to truth (Nazissism: The Totalitarianism of the Self). In it, Mr. Pearce tracks the relativist's collapse into a realism about relativism.

If I may attempt humbly to summarize Mr. Pearce's argument, the relativist's collapse proceeds as follows:

"1. The only truth is that there is no truth. [Relativism about truth]
2. If truth is as such, then the only correct moral statement is that there are no correct moral statements. [Relativism about morality]
3. If morality is as such, then the only correct approach to legislation is that which prohibits legislating morality. [Modern-day legal philosophy, as best outlined in the Supreme Court's majority opinion on Casey v. Planned Parenthood]."

The contradictions of relativism are blatant; those who propound them will, eventually and inevitably, become violent. This is borne out by history, both ancient and recent, and, more importantly, by common sense. It does not take a scholar of American history to discern a key principle of modern American history: traditional collections of people into families, communities (nearly exclusively religious), towns, townships, debating societies, etc. have been increasingly under attack by an approach to public policy founded on the belief that the larger a government is, both in scope and in size, the more fit it will be to secure freedom and autonomy for its citizens.

The pornographic revolution (I will not strip sex of its dignity by referring to the modern world's collapse into immorality as a "sexual" revolution) which undergirds the spirit of the modern age has led us to the very denial of the existence of male and female forms altogether. The pornographic revolution did not arise from a vacuum; it arose from relativism.

For those who are disgusted by the latest escalation of the war against traditional sexual morality, it is critical that they understand the root of the belligerents' cause. However, while that is definitely an interesting question, far keener minds and far clearer writers than myself have written on the topic.

In this short essay, I want to discuss what many consider to be a third option to the question of relativism or realism. I wish to discuss this option because many see it as the option of lasting peace (if actually lived out). However, this option is not an option of lasting peace, but rather an option which inevitably collapses into relativism. In other words, on the questions of truth, morality, beauty, goodness, and legislation, there only really do exist two options: realtivism and realism. Relativism leads to tyranny. Realism leads to true freedom, for true freedom can only come from knowing, living, and glorifying the truth. Since, then, this third option will itself inevitably collapse into relativism, it is as dangerous as relativism. Indeed, it may be even more dangerous, for it lulls those who hold it into a false sense of complacency.

All Around the World

All around the world, all throughout history, men, women, and children have asked the great questions of life. Who am I? Why am I here? How should I live? What is the good life? What is love? How do I love? Why is there beauty? Why is there evil? Why is there suffering? What is eternity? What is time? What happens to me when I die? 

I am reminded of the commercials for the U.S. Marine Corps. They are usually variants on this theme: a man dressed in street clothes walking amongst a crowd. Then, he hears a call, and he changes direction to walk against the crowd. This theme is an archetype of one possible journey in human life: a radical, countercultural adventure. It is a powerful archetype, and its power is reflected in its popularity throughout history, cultures, and religions. That the U.S. government uses it for military recruitment is no surprise.

In that theme, there are two fundamental tenets. First, the person hears a call. Perhaps there is an even more fundamental tenet; to hear the call, the person must first want to hear the call. After all, the man could have decided to be obstinate, to not listen for the call, and so decide to, say, wear headphones and listen to something that makes him comfortable. Indeed, this is probably the attitude of those with whom he was first walking.

I have a theory about this call, and a theory about why we may not want to heed it. First, this call is the call of our conscience. I have faith that I am not alone in stating the following: a man cannot deny that gazing at the night sky, lost in the wonder produced by the heavenly beauty, makes him a better man. It may be a small change and it may last for a small period of time: perhaps he is more patient with his friend who can be annoying, or he is more charitable to his friend who disagrees with vehemently on politics. However, there is some change. And in this phenomenon lies a truly fascinating truth: beautiful things seem to make us better people.

Let us return to the theme, and let us now consider the second fundamental tenet. I have tried to make the case that the call we hear is the call of our conscience, and, furthermore, that the call of our conscience is intimately tied to the call of the beautiful and to the call of the true. Now, I want to consider what happens after the call. Surely, the man who hears the call is not alone. Indeed, surely, there is not only man in the world with a conscience; we all hear its call, its beckoning. And yet, while we all surely hear it, we all surely do not heed it.

Why is this so? Why is it so hard to do good, to tell the truth, to create and appreciate beauty? It seems to me that there is only one reason: we are too afraid to let go of our lives. 

A Dialogue on the Meaning of Life: Is it Increasing Technological Prowess?

What exactly is a man to live for? Consider the first possibility: technological improvement. Kevin is an engineer who firmly believes that the meaning of life is to increase one's and one's society's technological prowess. Sean is a lone, wayfaring stranger who annoys people to no end in asking them about their worldview as they sit down to drink their overpriced cappuccinos at Starbucks. And yet, people can't seem to get enough of his zeal for conversation. 

Sean saw Kevin rapidly tapping away at his computer and came over to introduce himself. After exchanging pleasantries, Sean popped the big question, "What, sir, is the meaning of life?". Kevin responded as follows. 

Kevin: Man is to live for technological improvement. Technology is the sum total of the processes, sciences, and mechanics by which we can harness the powers inherent in nature to better serve the ends of mankind. If technological improvement is to be man's ultimate end, then it follows that man's life should be ordered towards improving the technological prowess of mankind, the technological prowess of his society, the technological prowess of his family, and his personal allotment of technological prowess. 

Sean: While certainly a powerful driver of human action, choosing technological improvement as the purpose of life simply pushes the original question back a question. Technology is only the means to an end; man can use technology for good or for evil. Therefore, without solidifying what is good and what is evil, technological improvement, of its own accord, does not give us a meaning of life, since it can only be used as a means by which to attain the end of life. 

Kevin: Yes, it is true that technology is a means to an end, and thus cannot be considered the end of life in and of itself. However, is it really intelligible to speak of good and evil as existing, as objective entities in the world which we can know? Rather than "good" and "evil", which are old-fashioned terms which we sophisticated modern people no longer use, why not use "pleasure" and "pain"? Thus, the end of life could then be stated as acquiring pleasure. Since, in man's primeval condition, man is very often in pain, it stands to reason that the process that brings man away from his primeval condition – that is, technology – is what man must improve. In other words, man must pursue technological improvement so that he can decrease the probability of pain and increase the probability of pleasure. 

Sean: Sir, I must say, I don't understand why we should discard the concepts of objective good and objective evil simply because they were used in the past. Anyways, this is an interesting conversation, so for its sake, I'll grant your wish: we shall replace objective good and objective evil with pain and pleasure. Now, is pain and pleasure also objective, or are they subjective? 

Kevin: My girlfriend is a doctor. She tells me that we have neural circuits which make us feel pain and neural circuits which make us feel pleasure. Therefore, since neural circuits are empirically verifiable, pain and pleasure are empirically verifiable. Empirically verifiable entities are objective entities. Therefore, pain and pleasure are objective entities. 

Sean: Sir, that's an airtight syllogism, but there seems to be a problem. 

Kevin: What is that?

Sean: Pain and pleasure are states of something, correct? Meaning, that pain is not something such as, say, color. Whereas you and I can both look at a basketball and see that it is orange, you and I cannot look, touch, feel, taste, or smell pain. Pain isn't something that any of our five senses can interact with, but rather seems to be entirely dependent on the subject.  

Great Persons of the Past

 We lionize great persons of the past because we seek embodiments of wisdom who can function as sagacious advisors. But in doing so, we imperil the greater project of finding wisdom out for ourselves – a project which is, I think, plainly evident to be superior to that of adopting, simply and naively, the hard-won wisdom of others. This is, to my understanding, one of the Kant’s primary thrusts of argument in his essay What is Enlightenment?

Running out of Time (Inspired by "Hamilton")

I need to write like I’m running out of time – because I am. I need to study like I’m running out of time – because I am. I need to research like I’m running out of time – because I am. I need to love like I’m running out of time. I am running out of time: I am dying. And so too are all those I know and love.