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Reading Regina Schmiedicke's criticisms of my defense of capitalism, I feel she is confused over the definitions of two terms: capitalism and freedom. In an attempt to clarify the meaning of capitalism and answer her first question regarding the Church's sustained criticisms of capitalism, let me humbly suggest that, like Mrs. Schmiedicke, perhaps what the Church criticizes as being capitalism is what economists refer to as a "mixed economy." This is the form of economic organization where government and big business conspire to retain power in the hands of the few. This latter point is undoubtedly what Mrs. Schmiedicke is referring to when she talks about capitalism. If this is the model she fears, then I wholeheartedly support her thoughts. Laissez-faire capitalism, however, as I stated in my original article, would not support an unfair allegiance between private enterprise and the state. In fact, true capitalism has never existed; the closest to it was the U.S. economy before the turn of the century. (History notes that social and technological progress was unprecedented during that time.) Perhaps the difficulty in discussing these issues today lies in the fact that most people have all but lost the knowledge of what capitalism is, how it functions, and what it has achieved. The truth about its nature and history has been drowned in a wave of misrepresentations, distortions, falsifications and almost universal ignorance. Nearly everyone today takes it as axiomatic that capitalism results in the vicious exploitation of the poor; that it leads to monopoly; that it resisted and opposed the worker's rising standard of living; that that standard of living was the achievement, not of capitalism, but of the state and regulation. It seems that people often do not question such bromides, since they "know" that capitalism is based on the profit motive and appeals to the individual's self-interest; that alone is sufficient to damn it. Mrs. Schmiedicke states: "In its present form as well as in a more 'ideal' form, capitalism does not (and I would say cannot) fully allow the majority of men to experience the 'power of self-determination.' Why? Because capitalism without restraints is essentially competitive." I am unsure as to what she means by "a more 'ideal' form" of capitalism, but, as I said, in its present form we are dealing with a mixed economy, not capitalism. Also, this statement seems to make competition intrinsically evil. But surely Mrs. Schmiedicke would agree that competition develops man's creative powers and results in better quality products at lower prices, thus helping those who need it most: the poor. The benefits of competition are especially important to keep in mind when we consider the power of monopolies. For example, in our present day mixed economy there exists one monopoly that cannot be threatened by any competitive forces. This monopoly is largely counterproductive, consumes more money than any other, and can be blamed for the murder of thousands of unborn children every day. This "monopoly" is the state, and it is protected from market competition not by the superiority of its "products" but by force of law. One of the state's "products" is public education. I am sure that most Concourse readers would agree that "public education" is failing miserably to educate young people. I am sure that if public education had to "compete" with private education it would cease to be as shameless as it presently is. Mrs. Schmiedicke argues for a "Third Way," that is, a distributive system based on the principle of subsidiarity. But the meaning she gives the term is in no way clear. She states: "Subsidiarity means that when there is a need, society should first look to the smallest possible unit to meet it...the small business is allowed to handle it." To me it seems like the words "is allowed" are nothing but a nice way of saying "will be required by law." To illustrate her point further, Mrs. Schmiedicke states: "The state government maintains the highways, but it should not discipline our children for not doing their homework." Excuse the cliche, but you cannot have your cake and eat it, too. In other words, you cannot expand the role of government to ensure that businesses are held responsible for an individual's needs and then hope that the state won't discipline your children. The system she describes reminds me ominously of the famous Marxist saying "From each according to his ability, to each according to his need." In her discussion of the role of corporations and government, Mrs. Schmiedicke wrote the following: "Today the government and corporations regularly promise to meet the needs of everyone, but it is a promise every thinking person can recognize as patently unrealistic." My question is: since when is it the responsibility of the government or of business to meet everyone's needs?! It seems to me that we have moved on from a discussion of what defines capitalism to a discussion of what defines freedom. Mrs. Schmiedicke seems to nuance the definition of freedom to include "the right to have my needs met." In a politico-economic context, freedom means one thing and one thing only: freedom from coercion. Civil laws are created in order to protect the individual from those who would use coercion or fraud against another. This definition of freedom may be summed up as a "freedom from" not a "right to" and is compatible with "the acting person" that John Paul II speaks of in Love and Responsibility. With all due respect, it sounds to me like the distributism Regina Schmiedicke advocates is just another type of mixed economy. It is as if she were saying "we will use the principles of socialism, but we will do it better, we will be fair." I would like to end by saying how much I appreciated Jules van Schaijik's recent article, "On dwarfs, giants and little boys." In it, he wrote: "We are all aware that to be morally mature, our actions and choices must be our own. We cannot hand our consciences over to someone else, no matter how much holier he is then we." If one agrees with this statement, how can he then not apply it to the field of economics? Just as you cannot steal someone else's conscience, you cannot rob him of his freedom to be benevolent.
Martha (Cotton, '89) Blandford
Did they dance at the crucifixion? The previous articles regarding "liturgical dance" and its appropriate place and form have been well-written and clearly presented. However, several points of clarification need to be made before a continued discussion of this current topic will bear fruit. There is, first and foremost, a vital distinction between "liturgical dance," properly so called, and those other forms of dance which are extrinsic to and outside of the Mass itself, i.e., prior to the Introductory Rites (specifically, the greeting and sign of the cross), and following the Concluding Rite (specifically the Ite, missa est). The term "liturgical dance," therefore, refers only to dance within the Mass. In the western Church, the practice of liturgical dance, according to the Sacred Congregation for the Sacraments and Divine Worship, as such, is illicit.(1) Not wishing to contest the Ordinary Magisterium and argue for liturgical dance, I move to address the second form of religious dance, namely that which is "performed" in a liturgical context, but not within the body of the Mass. This seems to be the sort of dance Kay Cummins defends in her Issue 4 article, "Dancing for God."(2) I also do not wish to contest that form of religious dancing which is clearly in conformity with the Congregation's decree on dance, so long as it does not take place in the context of the Holy Mass, or in a place properly liturgical. Such was the dance that occurred in St. Peter's square in Rome, following a missionary Mass celebrated by Samoan priests in 1971. The appropriateness of dance within a liturgical context hinges on the essence of the Mass itself. Mrs. Cummins states: "The liturgy is primarily a communal act that reaches a climax in the sacrament of the Eucharist or Holy Communion." On the contrary, the holy sacrifice of the Mass "is at the same time, and inseparably, the sacrificial memorial in which the sacrifice of the cross is perpetuated and the sacred banquet of communion with the Lord's body and blood" (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1382). References stressing the primarily sacrificial nature of the Mass are also abundant in Canon Law, and both the Second Vatican and Tridentine Council documents. We see, then, that Holy Mass is not primarily communal, but indeed is the summation and unity of communion and sacrifice. There can be no separation of or distinction between the two; the Mass is the re-presentation of Christ's sacrifice on Calvary in an unbloody manner with the body of the Christian faithful. They are one and the same sacrifice, continued now sacramentally. The critical question in our discussion follows: can dance, in the western Church, offer the body of the faithful any addition or supplement, either sacramentally or actually, to the unity and essence of the sacrifice of Christ on the cross in union with the sacrifice of the priest as alter Christus in the Mass? Clearly, the answer can only be in the negative. The thought barely formed, the objection immediately arises, "Do, therefore, singing, or other bodily postures during the course of Mass, indeed anything which is not essential to the Mass, then offer no addition or benefit to the faithful who assist at Mass?" Although similar at first glance (both dance and music do, after all, manifest aesthetically the mind and heart of man), upon a closer look, we see the intrinsic difference between dance and sacred music,especially, in the cultural context of western society and spirituality. The Second Vatican Council recognizes the treasure that the Church has in her sacred music; Gregorian Chant is to hold "pride of place" in the Sacred Liturgy because of both its intrinsic sublimity and its unity with prayer. Dance has no such tradition or intrinsic connection to the essence of the Mass.(3) I do not wish to contest the aesthetic value of dance, or even its capacity to assist certain people in worship; the fact remains, however, that dancing in the West carries with it feelings and inclinations which are contrary to purity and devotion; it is the introduction of the secular into the realm of the sacred.(4) For a fallen man, suffering from the effects of the wound of concupiscence, to experience the aesthetic pleasure of graceful and beautiful women, even in prayerful and solemn adoration, in a religious dance before the Mass, is at the very least an opportunity for the occasion of sin. This fluidity of motion and beauty can have the unwanted effect of drawing the mind and heart to the world, instead of inspiring a prayerful and meditative spirit and lifting the mind and heart to God as preparation for the sacred mysteries. Understanding, then, the great beauty and discipline with which dance is performed, and understanding the sincerity of heart of those who are inspired and uplifted by this mode of worship, it is nonetheless apparent that in the West, religious dancing as a liturgical practice poses both a pastoral and theological difficulty. Pastorally, it can be a hindrance to purity and chastity; theologically it does not and cannot add to the unity of the Mass in its principal essence as the sacrifice of Christ. Did they dance at the crucifixion?
Andrew Bloomfield, Senior, philosophy and mathematics
Is corporate repentance really possible? I read with interest Mary Healy's article on corporate contrition in Issue 4. As a non-Catholic (Orthodox) Christian, I necessarily approach this subject as something of an outsider. While commending Ms. Healy's good intentions and those of the Pope in his encyclical, I would like to voice a few misgivings. First, much of what Ms. Healy recommends, although laudable enough, does not really deserve the name of repentance. She says that Catholics today should "vicariously sorrow" for the sins of others in the Church and that they should express "sincere regret" for the crimes of Catholics in the past. Granting this to be so, I think it is important that we not name such acts repentance. Repentance involves more than an attitude of sorrow or regret; it involves actively resolving to change while at the same time placing one's hope, not in one's own ability to change, but in the mercy of God. There is no better illustration of this than the story of the prodigal son. The repentance of the prodigal son is inseparable from his act of physically returning to his father and casting himself upon his father's mercy. Had he merely felt sorry for his sins without acting upon that sorrow, he would have remained lost. It is worth noting that the New Testament marks this distinction by using two different verbs, metanoein and metamelesthai, for repentance and regret. Judas regretted (metameletheis, Mt. 27:3) his betrayal of Christ; he did not repent of his betrayal of Christ. I realize that insisting on this point may seem pedantic. Why does it matter what we call what we do, provided that what we do is right? The answer is that if we call godly sorrow by the name of repentance then we are apt to forget what repentance truly is--how hard it is and how much it demands of us in the way of humility before God and true and fervent desire to change. Part of the reason why the sacrament of confession is so important is that it forces one to move beyond the stage of regret to that of effectual and lived repentance. I have similar misgivings about another important element of Ms. Healy's argument: the prayers she cites from the Old Testament. In these prayers Nehemiah and Daniel confess before God the sins of the nation and beseech Him for mercy. These are, as Ms. Healy suggests, excellent models for us to imitate. But are they really acts of corporate repentance? I would prefer to call them prayers of intercession. They show us part of what it means to "bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ" (Gal. 6:2). Corporate repentance, properly speaking, requires something else as well--a resolve on the part of the people to renounce their sins and return to God. It requires that the people pray as a body (though perhaps through a spokesman) for the mercy of God. All of this makes it highly doubtful that the Church can really repent, as a body, of sins committed in ages gone by. Certainly she can express sorrow for them, but that is something different. Individual Christians can also make intercessory prayers of the type exemplified by Nehemiah and Daniel. What the Church can and should do as a body is repent of present sins. Unfortunately, that requires a certain unanimity in the recognition that these are sins and in the resolve to turn away from them. Given the present state of the Catholic Church, such unanimity is scarcely at hand. Even the Pope seems to have shied away from anything more specific than a vague call for repentance for (to quote Ms. Healy's paraphrase) "our participation in the evils of our own modern culture." Very well, but what are these evils? If I use artificial contraception and vote for pro-abortion politicians, am I participating in the evils of modern culture? Traditionalists will say yes; modernists will say no. That leaves us about where we started. It seems to me--speaking, of course, as an outsider--that what is needed in the Catholic Church at present is not so much a grand but ambiguous call for repentance as concrete acts of reform. I could not help but notice throughout Ms. Healy's article the assumption that non-Catholics today are alienated by memories of Catholic intolerance and bigotry. Although that may be true in some cases, among the Orthodox, at least, it is scarcely typical. We recognize that there is plenty of blame to go around and that our own slate is hardly a clean one. What alienates us are characteristics to be found in most Catholic parishes today--the lack of reverence for the Holy Eucharist, the Theotokos, and the saints, the neglect of disciplines like fasting and confession, the tawdriness and banality of most post-Vatican II worship, the dissent and even heresy among prominent Catholic theologians. I do not mean to say that if these were eliminated then the path would be clear for reunion; for serious issues would remain. But at the level of visceral reaction it is these, rather than the remembrance of ancient grievances, which today create the obstacle.
David Bradshaw
Thomas not just a doctor, but a saint I have been fascinated by the debate in the Concourse over our proper relationship to St. Thomas Aquinas. However, the debate--at least explicitly--has underestimated the role the Communion of Saints plays in every aspect of our lives. At a Catholic university this is an impoverishment. Of course we should not treat the writings of St. Thomas as though they were sacred Scripture. On the other hand, it does not seem prudent to treat his writings as suspect until proven otherwise: surely he has at least earned the benefit of the doubt. But, more importantly, we neither stand on St. Thomas' shoulders nor rest in his lap (though the latter seems more accurate, except perhaps for someone such as John Paul II). Rather we have a relationship to St. Thomas that yields far greater fruit than the writings of any mere philosopher or the search for abstract truths ever could (which is not to say we ought not to be diligently searching for such truths). We are in communion on our knees with St. Thomas, who intercedes for us and never ceases to help unite us spiritually and intellectually closer to the source and summit of all holiness and truth, Jesus Christ.
Jim Fox, Executive Director of University Relations
Sexism in any form denigrates both men and women I would like to thank Elizabeth Magaletta for her October 16 article entitled, "The Persistence of 'Masculinism' at Franciscan University." I found this article especially interesting because I had thought that many people at this University valued femininity over masculinity. Seeing that Ms. Magaletta held the opposite opinion led me to examine both my viewpoint and hers more closely. I concluded that we were both right and both wrong--in a way. This conclusion will need to be explained, but first let me mention two possible shortcomings in Ms. Magaletta's article. First, there may be an inconsistency. In the tenth paragraph she writes, "We have never needed a defense of the rights of men against the aggressions of women; and so I use 'masculinism' expressly to designate that view of life in which the concerns of men subsume everything else. Male superiority is not so much a part of this view as its guiding principle." However, in the previous sentence she had said that in radical feminism "the special focus on women has subsumed everything else." If radical feminism subsumes everything else to the needs of women and what she calls "masculinism" subsumes everything else to the needs of men and she considers masculinism to be an attack on women, does it not follow that she should consider radical feminism to be an attack on men? Yet she denies that masculinity needs to be defended against the aggressions of certain women. This brings me to a second shortcoming in her piece. I say "certain women" because it would be false and misleading to eliminate the qualifier certain. Unfortunately, Ms. Magaletta does just this when she describes feminism as "a movement especially aimed at defending the rights and dignity of women against the aggressions of men." Would it not have been better to have qualified this statement by saying instead that feminism defends women against the aggressions of certain men? Otherwise, she unjustly accuses all men of masculinism. Now I will try to show how I think both Ms. Magaletta and I have falsely evaluated the situation. Interestingly, some of the very things that Ms. Magaletta sees as attacks on femininity I once saw as attacks on masculinity. The truth doubtless lies between, so to find it I will take each of these opinions and show how it could cut both ways. In the sixth paragraph of her article Ms. Magaletta points out how viewing women in regard to their receptivity during sexual intercourse leads to their being seen from an exclusively male standpoint. As the natural result of this, "what seemed to be a discussion of the differences between men and women turns out rather as one of the difference of women from men." On the other hand, viewing a list of how woman differs from him may convince man that those differences are too many and too great to be overcome. This, in turn, may convince him that he would be inadequate as her husband and she as his wife. This could leave him deeply depressed. Therefore this point of view, whether its proponents and opponents realize it or not, is an attack on all the members of both sexes. Ms. Magaletta rightly complains that concentrating on woman's subjectivity may lead one to question whether she can be objective. However, it is equally true that concentrating on a man's objectivity may lead one to question whether he can be subjective. She also rightly complains that a woman's "nurturing aspect" can be used to cut "her out of spheres where emotion is not of primary importance." However, the same argument could be used to cut men out of spheres where emotions are important. Again, insisting that women are only suited to homemaking could lead to insisting that no man could ever be a homemaker. Again and again the claims which seem, on the surface, to attack one of the sexes turn out to attack both, once one thinks them through. In the next-to-last paragraph of her article Ms. Magaletta points out that what she calls "masculinism" survives by disguising itself and lavishly praising women. She points out that to those who see woman as inferior this inordinate praise of women is not seen as an attempt to establish female dominance. However, to a man who sees woman as his equal it can look like an attempt to advance women at the expense of men. Here again an attack on woman is an attack on man, and vice versa. This suggests that those whom Ms. Magaletta terms "masculinists" and "radical feminists" actually have the same mindset. They see how certain points are attacks on their own sex and also see how they may attack the opposite sex through certain other points. They do not see that, because men and women are equals, every insult to one sex also denigrates the other sex. Therefore, what we need today is not a defense of women from men or a defense of men from women. We need a defense of the members of both sexes from the attacks of those--whether male or female--who would reduce them to pale reflections of their true selves.
Michael Joseph Healy, Jr., Freshman, Classics
Regina Schmiedicke's article in the October 16 issue of the Concourse reminding us, once again, of the downsides(!) of capitalism includes some serious errors. However sincere she may be in her interest in the topic, she demonstrates little practical knowledge of economic theory and also fails to establish her opinions on the basis of the facts. First of all, a clarification: we should note that while the Church has always denounced the grave social injustices perpetuated by unbridled (a.k.a. laissez-faire) capitalism, she has likewise forcefully condemned the still graver moral injustices occurring under the other systems of material organization. No system of social and material order is perfectly free from error or invulnerable to abuse. But I suggest that free-enterprise, properly subsumed beneath culture and morality, not only can be humane, but is more conducive to humanity than any other system known to man. When the Church proposes principles such as subsidiary and solidarity, they are meant to be taken as moral guidance which can help us in making decisions about the proper functioning of the system. However, it is imperative to recall that the system takes on the form we give it; its "success" (in terms of being good for humanity) depends on our exercising our freedom in morally responsible ways. We cannot change the system from the top to the bottom, as if it were some kind of machine or device that, when it is out of whack, can be adjusted and tweaked to generate the result we want or intend. The attempts by communist and socialist theorists (as well as our own federal government officials) to do this adjusting have resulted in disaster. The idea that a gifted few can organize and control the economy for the welfare of society as a whole has proved a "fatal conceit." This is a term I borrow from the Austrian economists, who are champions of freedom in the economic order. They point to the inherent impossibility of knowing what everyone wants and needs (or telling everyone what they want and need, in its much more diabolical form) at any point in time. The best method is to start at the bottom (this is the true meaning of subsidiarity), that is, at the level of moral persuasion, education on economic literacy and our Christian heritage, and personal conversion. The result of such action, I propose, will be an evolving and widening moral order working itself into the fabric of our regular workaday existence. Second, to rectify some errors: Regina states, rightly enough, that capitalism without restraints is essentially competitive. But she then proceeds to describe the centralization of management power over society's resources, as if the mega-corporation is the necessary result of competitive processes. In essence, this is a watered-down version of the dialectal materialism popularized by Marx--a theory of economic activity which is totally out of touch with the facts. Her argument fails to properly survey business demographics as well as the public policies and laws which effectively restrain the growth of such mega-corporations. In addition, a broader view of historical and current trends gives evidence that competition is heightening in the global marketplace and that corporate down-sizing and right-sizing is becoming more typical. Consider, too, the dramatic growth of small businesses especially between 1986 and 1992, when 21 million small business jobs were created. True, big business downsized by 3 million jobs in the last recession, but the net result was 18 million new jobs over the past decade. Regina's thesis that the free market in practice tends inevitably to reduce persons to wage-slaves is likewise unreal, and akin to the Marxist notion of the oppression of the proletariat. The fear of mass marketing and highly capitalized businesses as essentially inhumane is one of the most naive yet prevalent myths that biases our understanding of free enterprise. Such thinking was central to early historical analyses of the birth of capitalism. However, as Hayek, et al., show (in a wonderful compilation entitled Capitalism and the Historians) workers under capitalism, despite hardships of factory life, were better off financially and had better lives than prior to the spread of capitalism. In her concrete examples of the evil of capitalism, Regina has committed what is known as the fallacy of composition--the mistake of believing that what is true for an individual is true for an entire group. I would like more facts, for example, related to the downsizing of the engineering firm Regina mentions, which has threatened the discharge of loyal employees. Was the firm in danger in some way that could not be avoided without cutting costs? Was anything done to avoid the situation? Were other options made available? Are the discharges early retirements? Did the firm promise a job for life? Did management cause the firm's presently unhealthy situation? Unless we know the answers to such questions, we are not really in a position to condemn the threatened discharge as unjust or inhumane. On the subject of distributism, I have little to say, except that the proponents of this kind of economic organization, even in mild forms, are basically advocating a completely new arrangement of society--one that poses potentially staggering costs and inequitable burdens--without resolving the practical and moral issues related to the equitable distribution of goods and resources.
Michael Welker
© The University Concourse, November 20, 1996 |
