I was uncertain just what an "apostolic exhortation" is until the current Pontifex Maximus issued his Amoris Laetitia, which I've seen translated as "The Love of Joy." It's apparently an encouragement, made by the Pontiff, that we or someone engage in conduct of a particular kind. In this case, it appears that we are encouraged to act in a given way regarding the Family, or families and marriage.
Just where the "joy" comes in isn't immediately obvious to such as me. Wouldn't "Love of the Family" or "Family Love" or "Joy of Marriage" have been more appropriate? Laetitia, it seems, was a Roman goddess of joy, but this fact makes the relationship to families even less clear. Love of joy is evidently for purposes of this exhortation at least related to marriage and the family in some sense.
But the document itself doesn't seem to evoke joy. It is a massive, careful, studied exhortation. One ceases reading it with a sense of relief, like the one I used to experience at the end of mass when we were told it was ended: "The mass is ended, go in peace." Then, I could genuinely say "Thanks be to God." All this is not to condemn it, but merely to note it isn't particularly joyous. It is more in the way of a dissection of marriage and the family--more kindly, an analysis of them--than a celebration of them
Reading it, I'm reminded of how seemingly legal--even legalistic--papal pronouncements tend to be. Scripture is cited much as legal precedents are in briefs and case law. Sometimes, though, the citations are more perfunctory. One has a sense of an author going through the motions or acting on compulsion, feeling called upon to mention some source even when the point being made isn't controversial. Other times, the citation isn't clear authority on its face, but its "true meaning" is explained. St. Paul is mentioned with some frequency, for example, and it's difficult to take the position that when he says a wife is to be subject to her husband this isn't the case and, moreover, God who inspired his writings didn't mean what Paul said although he said it.
It's encouraging in its way to see the Pope acknowledge that Paul was influenced by an unenlightened and primitive culture when he said certain things. But how he was so influenced when also influenced by God can be puzzling. One can understand God trying to work within a culture in order to be comprehended by mere humans, but it takes a considerable amount of speculation, even presumption, to contend that was what God was really doing, all appearances to the contrary.
Puzzling too, of course, is why the Pope or any Pope or priest, or even synod of priests or bishops, should pontificate, as it were, on marriage. There's no question they experienced a family at some point, and perhaps remain part of one, but unless they were married before becoming part of the clergy they have never been married. Presumably, they may have never experienced sexual relations with a woman. What they know of marriage or sex or love or even joy between a man and a woman as husband and wife is therefore necessarily at second hand. Why, then, do they speak of such things with such assurance?
It would seem that their view of marriage is necessarily abstract or idealized if not uninformed And this would certainly seem to be true of this exhortation, as marriage and family is variously compared to the relationship of the three persons of the Trinity, the relationship between Jesus and the Church in the position of his bride, and the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph (ignoring, for a moment at least, those confusing references to the brother of Jesus appearing in the Gospels and the Acts).
Now while the Trinity is maintained to be made up of three separate persons, those persons are said to be of the same substance, each of them equally God. Much as we may try, we can't say the same of the human family at all. Even by metaphor the comparison is clumsy. Humans in a family are not at all like the Trinity, nor can they be. Indeed, it's not clear even what the Trinity is so it's impossible to speak of it as analogous to anything at all.
As for the Holy Family, comparing the human family to it doesn't work either. Joseph obviously wasn't Jesus' biological father, but there are stepfathers enough in the world and they may be considered part of the family. The true Father in the case of the Holy Family was a rather remarkable one, though, and a virgin mother isn't very common either. So, the Holy Family was profoundly unusual. It's questionable whether drawing such a comparison is very helpful to understanding families, and doing so may justly be said to create expectations which simply cannot be fulfilled.
It's clear, however, that a real effort is being made by the Pope (and even others in the Church) to recognize that traditional strictures if not entirely misguided should be ignored or treated as mere technicalities. Efforts are made in this document to recognize "mixed marriages", to allow those divorced to participate in Church ritual and be treated with respect, and to liberalize the mysterious process of annulment. There are even suggestions that "irregular" relationships may be beneficial, even worthy, though same sex marriage remains unholy and inappropriate and efforts are made to make that clear.
These are not easy assertions to make in this kind of document, and that may well explain how careful, and unspontaneous, it is when read. It's an argument of sorts, in favor of change of sorts, and that is something in such an ancient and rigid institution. But this particular "Song of Joy" isn't one you can dance to, and though it may be possible to be encouraged one can't rejoice in it.
A CICERONIAN LAWYER'S MUSINGS ON LAW, PHILOSOPHY, CURRENT AFFAIRS, LITERATURE, HISTORY AND LIVING LIFE SECUNDUM NATURAM
Monday, April 18, 2016
Monday, April 4, 2016
The Magic Christians
Some of us remember the film The Magic Christian, a very silly bit of anti-capitalist, anti-greed satire (using that term broadly) which starred Peter Sellers, Ringo Starr, and a host of others in cameo appearances, including some of the members of what was to be Monty Python. The title was the name of an ocean liner on which the protagonists eventually sailed. I saw it while in high school, and it appealed to the adolescent in me.
I don't mean to comment on the film here, but use the title to draw attention to those who in the third to fifth centuries CE (somewhat broadly speaking, again) managed to make of Christianity something which was magical, or which I think may be called magical. "Magical" I mean to refer to something based on a mysterious, extraordinary supernatural power associated with certain equally mysterious rites.
Of course I'm aware of the fact that even the Gospels ascribe miracles to Jesus, and these may count as magic--though not, I think, magic of the remarkable kind to come. There were several men and beings which the ancients felt were capable of working wonders; even early Christians felt the pagan gods to be demons with supernatural powers. Also, it's clear that even shorn of the Gospels' occasional, very cursory, references to Jesus being the Son of God and worker of wonders, the belief in the existence of a supernatural, creator god--that of the Jews, in any case--is presumed and manifest in them. So, Jesus' early followers, if in fact they wrote the gospels, which doesn't seem likely, may be called "magic Christians" to a certain extent.
But there was nothing unusual in this given the times and the culture. For example, John the Baptist reputedly did much the same things as Jesus, and though honored in Christianity is not God or his Son. Something very unusual occurred in the case of early Christianity as it became the Christianity we know of now and throughout subsequent history (at least the Christianity recognized by most of the established churches). What happened distinguishes Jesus from the run-of-the-mill saviors and magicians who roamed the Roman Empire in those times, and required magic of an unusual sort.
What took place was, I think, necessary in order to maintain that Jesus was God; the only God, in fact. Not merely God after he was crucified, or before he took human form, but God even while he was human and was killed. The nature of Jesus was of course a subject of fierce and even violent disputes in the history of early Christianity and even into the Middle Ages and beyond. Some found it impossible to accept that God, the Supreme Being, could suffer and die on a cross. So, they thought Jesus must have been human or something less than wholly divine while on Earth, at least. And so we see controversy of the kind which involved whether Jesus as Son was of the same or similar substance as God the Father.
These and other disputes resulted in the heresies we hear so much of in Christianity. There was of course the famous dispute between the followers of Arius and Anathasius. But there was also Nestorianism, which was the belief that Jesus had two natures, one divine and one human; Monophsyitism, which held that Jesus' divine nature wholly overwhelmed his human nature; Monothelism, which taught that Jesus had two natures, one divine and one human, but only one "will." This is not even to get into the controversies which came about once the Holy Spirit was in the mix as God as well, and Trinitarianism arose. A heresy which followed was called Monarchiansm, which held that God the Father predominated over the Son and the Holy Spirit in the Trinity. As they say, the list of Christian heresies goes on and on, though certainly not all of them involved the true nature of Jesus.
The controversies were deemed so significant that emperors of the Christianized Roman Empire felt it necessary to become involved in an effort to resolve disputes through the use of Councils over which they presided or at least sponsored. They probably first rose to a governmental concern because the disputes were physical in nature in some cases. People were killed or injured; property destroyed. But some emperors were concerned about doctrine as well. Indeed, emperors favoring a particular kind of Christianity persecuted other Christians in the same manner as pagan emperors are claimed to have persecuted Christians before them, and the Christians persecuted by other Christians believed themselves to be martyrs.
Constantine is generally considered to have been a great unifier of Christian doctrine, but Justinian, a peculiarly dubious emperor, was even more avid in his efforts. Councils condemned certain views, accepted others. Excommunications were made and then rescinded. This went on for centuries. The Council of Nicea was probably less important in the history of Christianity than that of Chalcedon, held by the Emperor Marcian.
These Christological disputes had the result that the Latin Western Church became disassociated from the Greek Eastern Church and had other significant ramifications.
What is remarkable is that these great controversies have nothing at all to do with the preaching of Jesus; with what he said was right or wrong, what he said one should or should not do. They are wholly amoral. Christianity became a matter of definition, and the truth and goodness in Christianity came to be determined by what a person thought Jesus' nature to be and the manner in which he was to be worshiped. All resulted because it was deemed that Jesus was or should be construed to be the one God.
These disputes, and efforts at their resolution as they appear in written records of the time, resemble philosophical and legal disputes, in that their focus is on abstract concepts and their application as rules to circumstances. Their legal nature may be understood as resulting from the fact that Christianity became in every significant sense a government as well as a religion. Their philosophical nature may be the result of the desire early Christians had to give Christianity a basis which would be recognized as similar to if not sanctioned by the philosophy of the time, which was essentially pagan and, I believe, still is pagan. If Jesus is God, and there is only one God, what then?
Because of the fact the disputes were similar to legal and philosophical disputes, the arguments raised by one side or the other are not clearly false or absurd. There is a basis for them in the sense that relevant scripture may be referred to in their support or recognized authorities appealed to by disputants.
But ultimately the resolution of these disputes, to the extent they were resolved, entailed the imposition of certain mysteries, certain inexplicable doctrines. In other words, Magic, but Magic of the highest kind. The view that God is one substance but three persons is magical. The view that Jesus is consubstantial with the Father is magical. There is simply no other explanation for these beliefs.
It's interesting to consider what would have happened if Jesus was not considered God or divine in some manner, or perhaps a lesser God. I suspect Christianity would be much less complex and far less dependent on mystery. But Christians in charge were probably leery of making him a lesser God, as this would smack of polytheism. And what would the death of one man matter? Jesus' death and sacrifice would be insufficient to salvation if he was not at all times God.
We tend to forget what a mess Christianity was during its development. Dispute is considered inconsistent with what is said to be clearly set forth by God. Perhaps Christianity's search for a rational basis was unwise, and there is none clearly present. It's no wonder some Christians came to believe that God could not be known except through revelation. This conclusion may be less the result of mysticism as the realization that applying reason in the case of Jesus/God inevitably results in machinations of a particularly tortured kind.
I don't mean to comment on the film here, but use the title to draw attention to those who in the third to fifth centuries CE (somewhat broadly speaking, again) managed to make of Christianity something which was magical, or which I think may be called magical. "Magical" I mean to refer to something based on a mysterious, extraordinary supernatural power associated with certain equally mysterious rites.
Of course I'm aware of the fact that even the Gospels ascribe miracles to Jesus, and these may count as magic--though not, I think, magic of the remarkable kind to come. There were several men and beings which the ancients felt were capable of working wonders; even early Christians felt the pagan gods to be demons with supernatural powers. Also, it's clear that even shorn of the Gospels' occasional, very cursory, references to Jesus being the Son of God and worker of wonders, the belief in the existence of a supernatural, creator god--that of the Jews, in any case--is presumed and manifest in them. So, Jesus' early followers, if in fact they wrote the gospels, which doesn't seem likely, may be called "magic Christians" to a certain extent.
But there was nothing unusual in this given the times and the culture. For example, John the Baptist reputedly did much the same things as Jesus, and though honored in Christianity is not God or his Son. Something very unusual occurred in the case of early Christianity as it became the Christianity we know of now and throughout subsequent history (at least the Christianity recognized by most of the established churches). What happened distinguishes Jesus from the run-of-the-mill saviors and magicians who roamed the Roman Empire in those times, and required magic of an unusual sort.
What took place was, I think, necessary in order to maintain that Jesus was God; the only God, in fact. Not merely God after he was crucified, or before he took human form, but God even while he was human and was killed. The nature of Jesus was of course a subject of fierce and even violent disputes in the history of early Christianity and even into the Middle Ages and beyond. Some found it impossible to accept that God, the Supreme Being, could suffer and die on a cross. So, they thought Jesus must have been human or something less than wholly divine while on Earth, at least. And so we see controversy of the kind which involved whether Jesus as Son was of the same or similar substance as God the Father.
These and other disputes resulted in the heresies we hear so much of in Christianity. There was of course the famous dispute between the followers of Arius and Anathasius. But there was also Nestorianism, which was the belief that Jesus had two natures, one divine and one human; Monophsyitism, which held that Jesus' divine nature wholly overwhelmed his human nature; Monothelism, which taught that Jesus had two natures, one divine and one human, but only one "will." This is not even to get into the controversies which came about once the Holy Spirit was in the mix as God as well, and Trinitarianism arose. A heresy which followed was called Monarchiansm, which held that God the Father predominated over the Son and the Holy Spirit in the Trinity. As they say, the list of Christian heresies goes on and on, though certainly not all of them involved the true nature of Jesus.
The controversies were deemed so significant that emperors of the Christianized Roman Empire felt it necessary to become involved in an effort to resolve disputes through the use of Councils over which they presided or at least sponsored. They probably first rose to a governmental concern because the disputes were physical in nature in some cases. People were killed or injured; property destroyed. But some emperors were concerned about doctrine as well. Indeed, emperors favoring a particular kind of Christianity persecuted other Christians in the same manner as pagan emperors are claimed to have persecuted Christians before them, and the Christians persecuted by other Christians believed themselves to be martyrs.
Constantine is generally considered to have been a great unifier of Christian doctrine, but Justinian, a peculiarly dubious emperor, was even more avid in his efforts. Councils condemned certain views, accepted others. Excommunications were made and then rescinded. This went on for centuries. The Council of Nicea was probably less important in the history of Christianity than that of Chalcedon, held by the Emperor Marcian.
These Christological disputes had the result that the Latin Western Church became disassociated from the Greek Eastern Church and had other significant ramifications.
What is remarkable is that these great controversies have nothing at all to do with the preaching of Jesus; with what he said was right or wrong, what he said one should or should not do. They are wholly amoral. Christianity became a matter of definition, and the truth and goodness in Christianity came to be determined by what a person thought Jesus' nature to be and the manner in which he was to be worshiped. All resulted because it was deemed that Jesus was or should be construed to be the one God.
These disputes, and efforts at their resolution as they appear in written records of the time, resemble philosophical and legal disputes, in that their focus is on abstract concepts and their application as rules to circumstances. Their legal nature may be understood as resulting from the fact that Christianity became in every significant sense a government as well as a religion. Their philosophical nature may be the result of the desire early Christians had to give Christianity a basis which would be recognized as similar to if not sanctioned by the philosophy of the time, which was essentially pagan and, I believe, still is pagan. If Jesus is God, and there is only one God, what then?
Because of the fact the disputes were similar to legal and philosophical disputes, the arguments raised by one side or the other are not clearly false or absurd. There is a basis for them in the sense that relevant scripture may be referred to in their support or recognized authorities appealed to by disputants.
But ultimately the resolution of these disputes, to the extent they were resolved, entailed the imposition of certain mysteries, certain inexplicable doctrines. In other words, Magic, but Magic of the highest kind. The view that God is one substance but three persons is magical. The view that Jesus is consubstantial with the Father is magical. There is simply no other explanation for these beliefs.
It's interesting to consider what would have happened if Jesus was not considered God or divine in some manner, or perhaps a lesser God. I suspect Christianity would be much less complex and far less dependent on mystery. But Christians in charge were probably leery of making him a lesser God, as this would smack of polytheism. And what would the death of one man matter? Jesus' death and sacrifice would be insufficient to salvation if he was not at all times God.
We tend to forget what a mess Christianity was during its development. Dispute is considered inconsistent with what is said to be clearly set forth by God. Perhaps Christianity's search for a rational basis was unwise, and there is none clearly present. It's no wonder some Christians came to believe that God could not be known except through revelation. This conclusion may be less the result of mysticism as the realization that applying reason in the case of Jesus/God inevitably results in machinations of a particularly tortured kind.
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