Short takes: • Thanks for the words about Eastern Christianity • Broadening the Distributism Discussion • Reflections on the last issue • Overbearing theology emasculates philosophy • How we should imitate St. Thomas in our philosophizing • A different interpretation of the social encyclicals • Eastern Christianity and Western Liturgical Reform

Thanks for the words about Eastern Christianity

My thanks to Anthony Dragani for his thoughtful article on Eastern Christianity. I am continually surprised by how many faithful Roman Catholics have no concept of how diverse our Faith is. Most Roman Catholics seem to think that the Eastern churches are all Orthodox--if they think of them at all. The Easter Catholic churches have so much to offer all Catholics. I concur with Mr. Dragani when he says that the Eastern Churches, and especially the Byzantine Church (which I attend), offer solutions to the "traditional" versus "progressive" liturgical debate in the Roman Catholic Church. In fact, most of the issues in that debate do not exist at all in the Eastern churches.

I think Roman Catholics would do well to find the Eastern Catholic churches in their area and experience for themselves what is meant by the Universal Church.

Eastern Catholics are very welcoming, and enjoy every opportunity to explain how our one Faith is expressed differently through liturgy and custom. In this new millennium, I hope Catholics from all churches will open heart and mind to achieve true unity in the Faith, a unity through mutual understanding.

Katherine E. DeLine, FUS Class of '98

Katherine DeLine will be moving to Rome from Denver in a few months. She is to be married in Gaming, Austria in June.

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Broadening the Distributism Discussion

Thomas Stork's excellent article will hopefully provoke more discussion on a crucial issue for Catholic social philosophy. However I think a new direction is called for. It is important to engage the issue of a humane economic order on a level higher than that of dealing with the distribution of property. The problem with liberal economists is not that they are wrong. If fact, they have real truths to communicate which are important in the age in which we live, truths that must be utilized in our theoretical quest. The problem is that these truths are within a certain sphere of inquiry, and must be placed in the totality of personal existence. Economists do not often like to do this, because it diminishes the importance of what they have to offer. But any thinking on a personalist economy must start from the willingness to go beyond economics.

We must start from this openness because any study of human persons involves the value-complexes towards which they are related. Economics itself supposes a certain set of values which center around the problems of property and its distribution. That is, the more property, the better. This involves its own set of value distinctions, e.g. efficiency is good because it allows more total goods to be produced, certain uses of property are bad because they hinder the maximum production of goods.

Of course human persons are more than possessors of goods, and the value-complexes to which they are related is not confined to the sphere of ownership and production. Yet our social ethos, that is the prevailing value-complexes which exert psychic pressure to conform with them, renders different values more difficult to find. Other values are not on the surface of our lives, so to speak. An illustration of this might be seen in the production of pens. Currently pens are so cheap as to be practically community property: "Need a pen? Here take mine." Our immediate thought is that this is terrific; we would not want it any other way. However I suggest this is because we do not immediately sense certain values which might have dropped out of the equation.

Consider for a moment this thought experiment: imagine an earlier society where pens and paper were scarce. Also imagine that these pens were predominately made of gold or silver, and were practically works of art. I submit that the handwriting of those lucky few to use these writing implements would probably not be sloppy, but beautiful. The words written would be carefully deliberated upon, and would be eloquent most of the time. The subject matter written on would usually be important or serious. There would be a greater respect for the written word.

As this imaginary case illustrates, there would be a different complex of values at work in the ethos of this society. It is not due wholly to the real factors of the scarcity of goods: if we suddenly made drastic changes in the writing supply industry in the United States these changes would not follow. The point however is to try to discern the true nature of liberal economic theory. Does it concern only the production and possession of property, well-integrated into the life of human persons, or does it rather affirm its own set of values, its own ethos which it seeks to inculcate in society, perhaps at the expense of the perception of finer values?

I believe this line of thought deserves reflection and discussion as the search for the best economic order goes on in the pages of the Concourse. If we stay on the level of the distribution of property, the only solution for the problems of capitalism will be statism. Or at least it will be perceived this way by liberal economists. Yet we want to agree with these same economists that statism is not the answer. A better approach, perhaps, is first of all to discover the true nature, the assumptions and value-complexes, of capitalism and liberal economic theory.

Philip Harold, FUS Class of '00

Philip Harold married Rachel Durbin (also class of '00) in June. The couple are living in Washington, DC, where he is pursuing a PhD in Political Science at Catholic University and she teaches junior high history.

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Reflections on the last issue

I would like to comment on several of the articles in the latest issue of the Concourse. First, in response to Susan C. Fisher's question, "What is it in the nature of women that makes them prey to the illusion of the 'prince charming'?", I would like to suggest that perhaps we have here the true meaning of the last sentence of Gn 3: 16, "Yet your desire shall be for your husband, and he shall rule over you."

I would also like to add my two cents to Anthony Dragani's article. I agree with him when he says that gaining an appreciation of the Eastern traditions is vitally important. One of the main stumbling blocks to reunion with the Orthodox is the fear of many of them that reunion with Rome will mean the squelching of their traditions. Only by learning to appreciate Eastern Christianity fully can we quell this fear and heal the schism. And only by healing the breach with the Orthodox, who are the closest to us, will we ever be able to reunite with the Protestants.

Lastly, I wish to respond to Steve Kellmeyer's little piece. First of all, I think it is wrong to use one great Christian thinker to denigrate another. Duns Scotus may not be a saint (yet), but he has been beatified. Furthermore, when everyone (including Aquinas!) rejected the doctrine of Mary's Immaculate Conception, Scotus defended it. To reject him because he is not a Thomist is inexcusable, as would be the reverse.

As far as the charge that the philosophy department fails to provide its students with adequate theological foundations goes, this does not fit with my experience as a philosophy major (and now a grad student) here in Steubenville. I read selections from both Bonaventure's philosophical and theological writings in my Franciscan Philosophy and Medieval Philosophy courses. I audited a Texts of Augustine course (offered by the philosophy department) in which substantial portions of The City of God and De Trinitate were assigned. On my own initiative, I read both books cover to cover (how many theology majors do that?). In my Texts of Newman class we read twelve or thirteen of his sermons. In Renaissance and Early Modern Philosophy we read Pascal's Pensees, which include as much theology as philosophy. In my Epistemology class the professor read us an article by the philosopher Josef Seifert about why we believe in Christ--hardly a non-theological topic. In both my Intro to Philosophy class and my Philosophy of the Person class we were assigned books by C.S. Lewis. I even wrote a paper on The Abolition of Man. I am currently in Texts of Karol Wojtyla, and I don't think anyone would question whether that will involve theology as well as philosophy. My Philosophy of Love and Philosophy of Religion classes were deemed to have enough theological content to be cross-listed with theology. No, on the basis of my experience with the philosophy department here I must say that the charge that it fails to provide its students with adequate theological groundings is baseless.

Thirdly, I do not agree that the idea that Thomism is egotistical results either from an appreciation for Scotus or a lack of sound theological foundations. Rather, it comes from a false understanding of the "ethics of eudaimonia" as something self-centered. Furthermore, in my philosophical education here at FUS, I have been given a proper understanding of "eudaimonia" as "fulfillment" rather than "pleasure".

But my most serious contention with Kellmeyer's article is his practical assertion that canonization and the status of Doctor of the Church are conferred infallibly. Have we no understanding of Christian Doctrine? Have we completely forgotten the definition of infallibility at the First Vatican Council? Have we become Ultramontanists? Papal infallibility only operates when the Pope, in the exercise of his office as head of the Church and by virtue of that office, defines for the entire Church a matter of faith or morals. The infallibility of the entire episcopate also applies only to matters of faith and morals, and only when they are taught "always, everywhere, and by everyone" or defined at a Church Council. Canonization and conferral of the status of Doctor of the Church do not fall under either of these categories.

A canonization is a statement that we have determined, to the best of our ability, that a given person is in heaven, and therefore can legitimately be prayed to. Being raised to the status of Doctor of the Church is simply official recognition that one's teachings are, in general, in line with Christian doctrine. As Kellmeyer himself notes, this does not mean that someone is free from error. This, to my mind, proves my point. It seems to me that if the status of Doctor of the Church were infallibly conferred, then it could only be conferred on a thinker who never committed a single theological error. If this were the case, though, Aquinas would not have been named a Doctor of the Church in the first place. Remember, he did not hold the Immaculate Conception. Thus, I think that Kellmeyer's assertion that Aquinas was infallibly canonized and infallibly made a Doctor of the Church is deeply flawed and misleading and undermines the position he himself is defending. It is based on a false and quasi-heretical idea that everything that Rome says is infallible rather than only those things which the Church herself teaches to be infallibly taught.

Michael Healy, Jr., FUS MA Philosophy Program

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Overbearing theology emasculates philosophy

It was with dismay that I read Mr. Steve Kellmeyer's article regarding the need of "a better theological base" for the philosophy department at FUS.

As I understand Kellmeyer, his basic claim is that if students in the philosophy programs had a better theological formation, they would never assert such a flagrant falsity as "the philosophy/theology of St. Thomas is essentially egoistical."

I do not intend to deal here with the question of whether or not St. Thomas' thought is in fact "egoistical," nor with the semantics of the term. Rather, I would like to take issue precisely with his comment that the philosophy program at FUS needs "stronger theological underpinnings."

In the first place, what Kellmeyer seems to have in mind by suggesting that the philosophy courses ought to be restructured within acceptable theological parameters, is nothing but the subordination of philosophy to theology whenever these two disciplines are found investigating the same issue. Thus, if theology informs us that St. Thomas' thought is not egoistical, then it is sufficient for the philosopher to accept the judgement of the "Queen of the Sciences." He can then either suspend inquiry into the matter, or he can conduct it in such a way that the results support the previously determined theological position.

Allow me to be blunt: the implementation of this view on the proper relation of philosophy to theology would lead to the complete dissolution of philosophy.

Philosophy, by its very nature as the theoretical, critical, and systematic analysis of the core, autonomously intelligible moments of reality, cannot accept positions as true which have not presented their credentials before the tribunal of reason. To do so would be to forfeit its critical character and hence to leave unfulfilled one of the necessary conditions for the practice of authentic philosophical inquiry.

Furthermore, it is not clear to me that even if one did claim that in some way St. Thomas' philosophy/theology is egoistical that one may therefore be committed to the position that the philosophy/theology of the Church is essentially egoistical. In Fides et Ratio, the Pope rightly states that the Catholic Church has no official philosophy. Indeed, it is beyond the competency of the magisterium to claim that this or that philosophical system or method is the true one. The most that the Church can say is that a particular philosophical position is incompatible with revealed truth. With respect to theology, as far as I know the Church has no official theology either, as one must separate the reflections of theologians from the deposit and lived experience of faith. Thus, the first of Kellmeyer's arguments is not sound because there is no (official) philosophy/theology of the Church that could be described as 'egoistical'.

His second argument, that if one holds that Thomism is an 'egoistical' system, one may also be bound to hold that the Church was wrong to pronounce Thomas as a doctor of the Church (given that Catholicism is not a religion that thinks very highly of egoism) seems equally false. Much of St. Thomas' writings do not touch directly or indirectly on the nature of human motivation at all. Consequently, even if St. Thomas presents a rational egoism in ethics and even if this falsifies moral data, it does not follow that the whole basis of his thought is erroneous. Hence, his writings could still serve as legitimate grounds for his being recognized as a distinguished teacher of Catholicism. Furthermore, it is entirely possible for a thinker to distort or to fail to capture the essence of love or of morality in his theoretical opinions, while nevertheless possessing a deep understanding of these essences on the basis of his own lived contact with the data. To claim that St. Thomas did not understand love adequately on the theoretical plane is therefore not degrading to Thomas, or to the Church's understanding of and judgement on Thomas' works.

Let me conclude by returning to the original question: does the philosophy department at FUS need stronger theological foundations? It seems to me that Kellmeyer's article has only succeeding in demonstrating the reverse to be true.

Oliver Heydorn, FUS MA Philosophy Program

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How we should imitate St. Thomas in our philosophizing

I very much appreciated Dr. Lee's Volume V, issue 8 article about St. Thomas' view of love. Related to his point, there are those who seem perhaps overly eager to accept an opinion about St. Thomas that would have him being overly stoic in his affections. This would clearly be a mischaracterization. One only need read the Angelic Doctor's beautiful prayers with their many heartfelt and very deep expressions of love and tender devotion to dispel any thoughts that he had a wintery heart.

Still, I think Mr. Kellmeyer's article corroborating Dr. Lee's concern was off base. Kellmeyer seems to fall into the all too common assumption that St. Thomas' philosophy and theology is the philosophy and theology of the Church. The Church simply is not that tunnel-visioned. St. Thomas himself I think would be appalled at the thought of someone implying that everything must be seen preferentially through his mental glasses alone.

The Angelic Doctor certainly is upheld as a marvelous example of faithful scholarship well done, whom many would do well to imitate. And he achieved a coherent vision amazing in its breadth. But as Dr. White points out (I took a course in Medieval Philosophy with him last semester), the Church does not advocate that everyone be a Thomist. Rather, the Church encourages the study of his work because of its high quality, to help discipline the mind in the rigors of careful logical thinking and so that he might be emulated as to his approach.

St. Thomas himself was influenced by a number of different great thinkers who had something valuable to contribute to man's understanding of the truth of things. For Thomas, truth was the standard he served. No particular man's doctrine was the absolute arbiter of the truth of things. So to truly do theology and philosophy "according to the mind of St. Thomas," means to do as he did: to take from all the greats of the tradition, so that in their rubbing together they might add perceptive power and expansiveness to one's own intellectual vision. (For example Thomas took Aristotle and brought his thought into the West using Revelation as the ultimate guide by which to interpret his work, not vice versa. Augustine and Boethius were brought to bear quite frequently in the process. The intellectual crisis initially brought about by the appearance of Aristotle's works was in part due to an odd artificial dividing line that was maintained between Aristotelian philosophy and revelation.)

Most, if not all, of the great minds of the Catholic tradition have allowed themselves to be shaped and challenged from several different directions. This provides a powerful stimulus for creativity and movement forward into new and deeper insights. Indeed the dialectical process used by the scholastics involved being so thoroughly familiar with the perspectives of multiple authorities on a given subject that one could competently speak through the mind set of these authorities about a particular issue, showing how they agreed and how they differed, and then offer one's own conclusion, building upon the greater depth surrounding the matter one had achieved by circumscribing it from different angles.

As Dr. White points out, it is a temptation for lesser minds to simply latch on to the system of one great thinker and try and make his approach answer everything. As great as St. Thomas is, to do this would be a mistake that actually stifles intellectual creativity and genuine progress. The method of St. Thomas himself--to be open to new insight from any direction and to be willing to put forth the effort required to judge things always in the light not of any one person, but in light of Revelation (for before anything, Thomas saw himself as a servant of the gospel)--requires great humility and a desire to work very hard intellectually from a position of submission to ultimate truth. This humility must always include the frank understanding that no system of thought, no matter how excellent, is capable of accurately encompassing all that can be known about God and the world. This I believe is a properly Catholic attitude.

Scott Johnston, Senior biology and philosophy major

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A different interpretation of the social encyclicals

Thomas Storck's article "Distributism, state power and papal teachings" was thought-provoking and interesting. His call for a wider reading of and meditation upon the Catholic social encyclicals is certainly worthy of support. However, there are several thoughts that occurred to me as I read his piece.

Mr. Storck says that "the papal, and perforce the Catholic, approach to state power in the economy cannot be reduced to Dr. Schmiesing's principle of 'less rather than more state intervention.'" It is true that Catholic teaching not only allows, but actually demands, that the state play a role in the social order, including the economy, in order to promote the common good. However, the Catholic notion of subsidiarity by its very definition leads to "less rather than more state intervention." Subsidiarity demands that the primary responsibility for the economy remain in smaller, more localized institutions (including the family), and the state should intervene only at the point where the smaller institutions cannot deal effectively with a particular issue or task. It is not the case that responsibility for the social order lies with the state, which in turn delegates manageable tidbits to local entities; the opposite is actually more accurate.

Mr. Storck claims that the guilds were the epitome of the intermediate institutions called for by the social encyclicals and should be resurrected. However, it is very reasonable to interpret papal praise for the guilds much differently: not as a call for the re-creation of guilds themselves, but rather as a call for the creation and development of non-governmental institutions, or "intermediate bodies," that serve the same purposes the guilds once did. John XIII wrote in his social encyclical Mater et Magistra, "Above all, it must be emphasized that enterprises and bodies of this sort, in order that they may survive and flourish, should be continuously adapted--both in their productive structure and in their operating methods--to new conditions of the times." (No. 87) The guilds of old cared for orphans and widows, they encouraged the cultural and spiritual development of their members, and they helped to provide education and training to young people, among other valuable functions. Perhaps our current economic, political and cultural situation makes it very difficult for one institution to accomplish all of these tasks, but there do exist organizations performing one or more of these guild-like activities. The Knights of Columbus is one example of such an organization.

Finally, Mr. Storck writes that "If we accept that a normal family life allows a mother to devote herself full-time to the care and education of her children, what can we say about an economy that makes a normal family life so difficult for so many?" There are two problems with this statement and its implied conclusions. First, it seems that a major reason that "normal" family life is so difficult today is not the injustice of our economic system but rather the excessive materialism of our culture. It could be argued that most American families could live on the income of one spouse, but instead of living within their means, many Americans succumb to the temptations of our materialistic culture that establish bigger homes, fancier cars, Disneyland vacations, fashionable clothing, and restaurant meals as "needs". These "needs" often compel the wife to secure a job outside of the home.

The second problem is with Mr. Storck's notion of "normal family life." While the social encyclicals clearly teach that the economy should be structured so that the mother is not required to leave her children in order to earn money outside of the home, it does not follow that the mother needs to be able to devote all of her time to the care of her children. In the agrarian economy that dominated western society prior to Rerum Novarum, the mother not only cared for and educated her children, but she also contributed to the economic well-being of the family by feeding livestock, helping with the harvest, and performing other economic tasks. Even if the family lived in a town, the mother tended a garden, prepared food for winter storage, made clothing, and perhaps even sold some of her produce or handiwork in the marketplace. If the mother had focused exclusively on nurturing and educating her children, the family would not have survived.

The industrial revolution wreaked havoc upon the family not because it forced the mother to contribute to the economic well-being of the family (she had always done this), but rather because it moved the primary economic activity out of the home and into the factory and office, thereby creating a situation where the only paying work existed outside of the home, so that mother was forced away from her primary child-rearing responsibilities. Ironically, the descendants of the industrial revolution--the computers, modems and telephones of the information age--are the very tools that have made it more practicable than ever for a mother to work in her home on a part-time basis and still make the care of her children her primary task. Perhaps Mr. Storck's "normal family life" is an ideal which could be sought after, but it is not demanded by Catholic social teaching.

The knowledge and enthusiasm for the social encyclicals that Mr. Storck displays are admirable. However, a careful reading of the encyclicals does not necessarily lead one to the concrete applications that Mr. Storck has described. The encyclicals offer challenges first of all to the faithful: do not succumb to materialism, recognize the universal destination of all created goods, and understand the dignity of work. Secondly, the encyclicals offer general principles which the laity are to embody in social structures: the common good, subsidiarity, and the freedom and dignity of the human person. Mr. Storck is absolutely correct when he observes that it is not "the case, as some have asserted, that somehow Centesimus represents the overturning of all the previous documents--as if the Church had suddenly disavowed all that she formerly taught. Centesimus is firmly in the same tradition as its predecessors." The timeless principles of Catholic social teaching will never change. But the prudential conclusions reached from that timeless tradition will surely vary from place to place and from generation to generation.

David Schmiesing, FUS Class of '92.

David Schmiesing, brother to Kevin Schmiesing, serves as Director of Business Services at FUS. He is a contributing editor of the Concourse and the father of four children.

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Eastern Christianity and Western Liturgical Reform

The readers of the Concourse must thank Mr. Dragani for his Eastern Catholic perspective on Church matters. He has identified an important facet of Catholicism for all Western Christians to ponder: the rich, ancient tradition of the Eastern Fathers. His article, however, misses the heart of the debate in the Roman Catholic Church over the liturgy, and misleadingly suggests that one should understand the recent revision of the Roman Rite in terms of Eastern liturgical forms.

There is no doubt, as Mr. Dragani affirms, that part of the liturgical movement appreciated the Eastern liturgies and looked to them as models. The rich symbolism of the Eastern Rites, especially the Divine Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom (attended by Byzantine Catholics such as Mr. Dragani), and the participation of the congregation in Eastern liturgies gave hope to many reformers that the Roman Rite could be renewed or even improved. While many of the reforms that ended in the novus ordo missae of Paul VI appear Eastern in their inspiration, the transcendent, mystical spirit of the Eastern liturgies is well hidden in the novus ordo. Two examples should suffice.

Mr. Dragani mentions the free-standing altar as a reform inspired by the Eastern tradition. But the present use of the free-standing altar in the Roman Rite is hardly Eastern in its spirit. In the Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom, the priest does not face the people during the Eucharistic prayer and is even obscured from the view of the congregation during this time by the iconostasis (the wall of icons). The Eastern tradition emphasizes the separation of the priest from the people in the moment when heaven meets earth during the Epiclesis. The sense of mystery, awe, and transcendence is profound. Such is hardly the situation in the novus ordo. In the Novus Ordo the priest faces the people, breaking the ancient Christian liturgical tradition of facing east in worship, and seems more of an uninspired entertainer than one privileged to celebrate the Sacred Mysteries. It is not only traditionalists who have pointed out such things. People as diverse as Cardinal Ratzinger in his new book, The Spirit of the Liturgy, and Thomas Day in, Why Catholics Can't Sing, have made similar critiques of the novus ordo.

Mr. Dragani also suggests that the Eastern practice of receiving communion under both kinds while standing was adopted by the reform of Paul VI. Again, this is misleading. The Eastern Catholics who attend the Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom receive Holy Communion on the tongue, not in the hand, with their hands crossing their breast as a sign of reverence. They receive by intinction from an ordained minister. The ordained thus fulfill their primary duty of feeding the people the Holy Eucharist. In the present Roman Rite, most Catholics receive the Eucharist in the hand. Then they turn and drink the Precious Blood from a cup. In most parishes, extraordinary ministers of the Eucharist (who, sadly, are in fact quite ordinary) give communion, and the people make no signs of reverence during or before receiving Christ's body and blood. If the Eastern practice was the model for reform, then something has gone terribly wrong.

The debate over liturgy among Roman Catholics today is primarily about the preservation of the ancient liturgical traditions of the Roman Rite. The mass promulgated by Pope St. Gregory the Great was virtually the same in all its essentials as the mass celebrated until Vatican II. The Eastern Christians, who have so zealously guarded their own liturgical traditions from tampering, should realize that Roman Catholic traditionalists like myself do not ignore the Eastern Rites, but admire them for their adherence to their venerable liturgical traditions. Roman Catholic traditionalists are fighting to restore the traditions of our own Rite. We are not immobilists who want to freeze liturgical development at the Council of Trent, but instead desire a true, organic development of our Rite rather than its whole scale dismantling, which we witnessed after Vatican II. Some may call us close-minded or many other worse things, but we traditionalists desire to worship as our Eastern Catholic brethren do, according to our own traditions. Traditionalists believe that we are being prevented from doing so by intransigent bishops, and those who mistakenly see our criticism of the novus ordo as disloyal to the Church.

Adam L. Tate, FUS Class of '94

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