I am at the point where this subject has ceased to be of interest for me. This is mostly due to the fact, I think, that I fall in the camp whose members do not believe that someone is going to hell because her own spirituality places her outside of a narrow “law”, which we must admit is mysterious if it exists at all. After all, to proselytize is really to try to convert someone so that she believes what I believe; and what I believe, I have already said, is mysterious even to me; and what I believe, since I have written a lot about happiness, I must admit does not always make me happy, and I am not in the business of leading someone to be certain about something about which I myself am not certain.
So I gladly transition to life, setting aside this question of evangelism. I am not a salesman. St. Francis of Assisi reputedly said, “Preach the Gospel always, and if necessary, use words”; St. Augustine said, “Love, and do what you will.” I am happy to spend the rest of my life exploring God, fully aware that Jesus warned us to be wary and to watch out for false messiahs and false prophets; and I hope to do this in the company of friends who, like me, have questions more than they have answers.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Proselytism: Exemplification or Discussion?
After having yesterday completely obliterated my own previous assumptions about proselytism, it seems only fair to upend myself by returning to some of the questions that I asked on Saturday; and I will focus on the following one: Is it good enough simply to be an exemplar of your faith/happiness, or is the discussion necessary? After all, the three points that I made in yesterday’s blog entry would be to a certain extent moot if exemplifying your happiness were the point and matter that would necessitate another person’s also being happy. (I will for now stay on the idea of happiness rather than return my focus to faith, since mature discussions of faith are really born of transcending the idea of happiness once we have exhausted its utility, really a focus on a more complex truth.)
To see ourselves merely as exemplars is probably to ignore our nature as social creatures; in fact, it would be an extremely rare and perhaps suspect person whose happiness was circumscribed by the Self. Happiness is more directly than inversely proportional to our engagement with others, which, if it is to be true engagement, must include the opening of the heart, must include vulnerability in regards to happiness and unhappiness. Thus, happiness as mere example is impossible, and could even be the result of discussing the topic with the exemplar.
To see ourselves merely as exemplars is probably to ignore our nature as social creatures; in fact, it would be an extremely rare and perhaps suspect person whose happiness was circumscribed by the Self. Happiness is more directly than inversely proportional to our engagement with others, which, if it is to be true engagement, must include the opening of the heart, must include vulnerability in regards to happiness and unhappiness. Thus, happiness as mere example is impossible, and could even be the result of discussing the topic with the exemplar.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
How to Proselytize?
I ended yesterday’s exploration of proselytizing by saying the following: if you find that your faith brings you happiness, and if you are not so much concerned about salvation versus damnation, then proselytism is for you your ongoing conversation with others about happiness.
In some ways this is not really proselytism at all; or rather, it is a fresh way of looking at proselytism, a suggestion that we are probably already doing this in the course of our normal lives, without any burden of obligation, but with joy and intellectual hunger. So the question of how to proselytize becomes far more broad: how to talk about happiness?
This seems like a ridiculous question to ask, but I think that the question has some things to say to us. First, it forces us to know ourselves as creatures of happiness or unhappiness.
Second, the question of how to have a conversation about happiness forces us to ask whether we know our fellow human beings intimately enough from our own sense of ourselves that we should be able to presume that our own procedures for happiness are requisite for the happiness of the other.
Third, any conversation about the happiness of the individual should necessitate further discussion about the happiness of all individuals, and whether the happiness of one can exist without the happiness of the many, or whether the happiness of one can exist without the happiness of all.
It is likely that these discussions will lead to discussions about belief, either immediately or after a period of some time; but we must also be open to the possibility that discussions about belief may not suggest insight about happiness for every person involved.
In some ways this is not really proselytism at all; or rather, it is a fresh way of looking at proselytism, a suggestion that we are probably already doing this in the course of our normal lives, without any burden of obligation, but with joy and intellectual hunger. So the question of how to proselytize becomes far more broad: how to talk about happiness?
This seems like a ridiculous question to ask, but I think that the question has some things to say to us. First, it forces us to know ourselves as creatures of happiness or unhappiness.
Second, the question of how to have a conversation about happiness forces us to ask whether we know our fellow human beings intimately enough from our own sense of ourselves that we should be able to presume that our own procedures for happiness are requisite for the happiness of the other.
Third, any conversation about the happiness of the individual should necessitate further discussion about the happiness of all individuals, and whether the happiness of one can exist without the happiness of the many, or whether the happiness of one can exist without the happiness of all.
It is likely that these discussions will lead to discussions about belief, either immediately or after a period of some time; but we must also be open to the possibility that discussions about belief may not suggest insight about happiness for every person involved.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Who to Proselytize?
Today I would like to address the question, Who to proselytize? Not that I will answer the question completely – certainly I will not; just this simple question itself raises some other questions, most notably, Why proselytize?
So on to that second question. I think that there can only be two answers to this: the first is that you think you are right about a certain belief -- let’s say Christianity, just to be broad – and you believe that Christianity condemns nonbelievers to eternal damnation, but also that Christianity rewards believers with eternal salvation, and you want people to be saved rather than damned; the second is that you think you are right about Christianity, and Christianity makes you happy, and therefore you want to share Christianity with everyone.
If you fall under the first camp, you most certainly have an obligation to proselytize. Otherwise, your lack of effort is the damnation of others; and while you might be saved in the end, you want others to be happy, too, in the end; and besides, your indifference would be your own damnation. If you don’t fall under the first camp, if, for instance, you believe that God can still welcome nonbelievers into Paradise, then proselytism is not a requirement for you because your proselytism has no effect on another person’s salvation or damnation. But you might still fall into the second camp if you believe that God can save nonbelievers.
This brings us back to the first question, Who to proselytize? If you think that salvation and damnation depend on belief, well then, you’d better get to work; your target is everyone who doesn’t believe what you believe. If you don’t think that, however, but you do find that your faith brings you happiness, then for you proselytism is nothing more and nothing less than your ongoing conversation with others about happiness.
So on to that second question. I think that there can only be two answers to this: the first is that you think you are right about a certain belief -- let’s say Christianity, just to be broad – and you believe that Christianity condemns nonbelievers to eternal damnation, but also that Christianity rewards believers with eternal salvation, and you want people to be saved rather than damned; the second is that you think you are right about Christianity, and Christianity makes you happy, and therefore you want to share Christianity with everyone.
If you fall under the first camp, you most certainly have an obligation to proselytize. Otherwise, your lack of effort is the damnation of others; and while you might be saved in the end, you want others to be happy, too, in the end; and besides, your indifference would be your own damnation. If you don’t fall under the first camp, if, for instance, you believe that God can still welcome nonbelievers into Paradise, then proselytism is not a requirement for you because your proselytism has no effect on another person’s salvation or damnation. But you might still fall into the second camp if you believe that God can save nonbelievers.
This brings us back to the first question, Who to proselytize? If you think that salvation and damnation depend on belief, well then, you’d better get to work; your target is everyone who doesn’t believe what you believe. If you don’t think that, however, but you do find that your faith brings you happiness, then for you proselytism is nothing more and nothing less than your ongoing conversation with others about happiness.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Proselytizing
I don’t proselytize, on principle. But I am sure that some people might consider this an anemic Christianity. After all, the Gospels do contain commands to evangelize. That said, here are some questions that might help us think about the issue.
If you were to proselytize, who would you target? Would you target atheists, or would you go after the agnostics first? Or, would you talk to believers of other religions – Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism, Judaism, pagan ritualism, etc.? Or (since I am Catholic), would you engage with denominations that share your own core religious beliefs but that differ markedly in ritual, hierarchy, etc.? What about other religious denominations that differ only slightly from your own?
How would you go about it?
Is it good enough simply to be an exemplar of your faith, or is the discussion necessary?
If you decide that the discussion is important, what do you have to know? How much do you have to know?
Can you reasonably expect your efforts to be effective? In other words, are human beings stubborn or are they willing to embrace change? And if they are stubborn, should they not be? And if they are willing to embrace change, should they be so quick?
Every day this week starting Monday, I will try to look at these questions a little bit more in-depth.
If you were to proselytize, who would you target? Would you target atheists, or would you go after the agnostics first? Or, would you talk to believers of other religions – Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism, Judaism, pagan ritualism, etc.? Or (since I am Catholic), would you engage with denominations that share your own core religious beliefs but that differ markedly in ritual, hierarchy, etc.? What about other religious denominations that differ only slightly from your own?
How would you go about it?
Is it good enough simply to be an exemplar of your faith, or is the discussion necessary?
If you decide that the discussion is important, what do you have to know? How much do you have to know?
Can you reasonably expect your efforts to be effective? In other words, are human beings stubborn or are they willing to embrace change? And if they are stubborn, should they not be? And if they are willing to embrace change, should they be so quick?
Every day this week starting Monday, I will try to look at these questions a little bit more in-depth.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Shelley's A Defense of Poetry
Embarrassment comes in many forms, much to the delight of the rest of us. Today I admit to a rather boring and nerdy embarrassment: I profess to be a writer, perhaps even a poet, and I have never read anything by John Milton (I’m not even sure that John is his first name (off the top of my head)); and not only do I consider myself a writer, I am actually in all truth in possession of a BA and an MA in English literature, and I still have never read anything by Milton. This is not entirely my fault: I tried to take a class on Milton my first semester of graduate school, but the class was full, and I ended up taking a much better class in its place; but it is partially my fault, as I was supposed to read Paradise Lost, at least parts of it, as an undergrad, and I didn’t. It probably seemed too long. I was also supposed to read “Lycidas”, but I really just skimmed it.
This only comes up because we are approaching Milton’s 400th birthday; because there is a new edition of Paradise Lost out, a facing-page “translation” of the poem into a more modern English prose, by Dennis Danielson; and because I was reading Shelley’s A Defense of Poetry, in which he can’t stop talking about Milton. So: to celebrate my knowledge of Milton, I throw my hat in the ring with a few quotes from Shelley that have nothing to do with him; and I vow to read Paradise Lost in the coming months (in verse, mind you), and perhaps “Lycidas”.
All quotes are from Percy Bysshe Shelley’s A Defense of Poetry, printed selectively in the Norton Anthology of English Literature, Volume 2. You can see the full text at http://www.bartleby.com/27/23.html.
“Although all men observe a similar, they observe not the same order.”
“[ The poet ] not only beholds intensely the present as it is, and discovers those laws according to which present things ought to be ordered, but he beholds the future in the present, and his thoughts are the germs of the flower and the fruit of latest time.”
“The story of particular facts is as a mirror which obscures and distorts that which should be beautiful: Poetry is a mirror which makes beautiful that which is distorted.”
“The great secret of morals is Love; or a going out of our own nature, and an identification of ourselves with the beautiful which exists in thought, action, or person, not our own. A man, to be greatly good, must imagine intensely and comprehensively; he must put himself in the place of another and of many others; the pains and pleasures of his species must become his own. The great instrument of moral good is the imagination; and poetry administers to the effect by acting upon the cause.”
“The cultivation of poetry is never more to be desired than at periods when, from an excess of the selfish and calculating principle, the accumulation of the materials of external life exceed the quantity of the power of assimilating them to the internal laws of human nature. The body has then become too unwieldy for that which animates it.”
“The most unfailing herald, companion, and follower of the awakening of a great people to work a beneficial change in opinion or institution, is Poetry.”
Even though Shelley is wrong when he says, “all spirits on which [ poetry ] falls, open themselves to receive the wisdom which is mingled with its delight,” perhaps it wouldn’t hurt these days to read a little Milton, or Shelley, or Zaremberg (pending publication – no, no: pending submission; first up, a translation of Shelley into reasonable English).
This only comes up because we are approaching Milton’s 400th birthday; because there is a new edition of Paradise Lost out, a facing-page “translation” of the poem into a more modern English prose, by Dennis Danielson; and because I was reading Shelley’s A Defense of Poetry, in which he can’t stop talking about Milton. So: to celebrate my knowledge of Milton, I throw my hat in the ring with a few quotes from Shelley that have nothing to do with him; and I vow to read Paradise Lost in the coming months (in verse, mind you), and perhaps “Lycidas”.
All quotes are from Percy Bysshe Shelley’s A Defense of Poetry, printed selectively in the Norton Anthology of English Literature, Volume 2. You can see the full text at http://www.bartleby.com/27/23.html.
“Although all men observe a similar, they observe not the same order.”
“[ The poet ] not only beholds intensely the present as it is, and discovers those laws according to which present things ought to be ordered, but he beholds the future in the present, and his thoughts are the germs of the flower and the fruit of latest time.”
“The story of particular facts is as a mirror which obscures and distorts that which should be beautiful: Poetry is a mirror which makes beautiful that which is distorted.”
“The great secret of morals is Love; or a going out of our own nature, and an identification of ourselves with the beautiful which exists in thought, action, or person, not our own. A man, to be greatly good, must imagine intensely and comprehensively; he must put himself in the place of another and of many others; the pains and pleasures of his species must become his own. The great instrument of moral good is the imagination; and poetry administers to the effect by acting upon the cause.”
“The cultivation of poetry is never more to be desired than at periods when, from an excess of the selfish and calculating principle, the accumulation of the materials of external life exceed the quantity of the power of assimilating them to the internal laws of human nature. The body has then become too unwieldy for that which animates it.”
“The most unfailing herald, companion, and follower of the awakening of a great people to work a beneficial change in opinion or institution, is Poetry.”
Even though Shelley is wrong when he says, “all spirits on which [ poetry ] falls, open themselves to receive the wisdom which is mingled with its delight,” perhaps it wouldn’t hurt these days to read a little Milton, or Shelley, or Zaremberg (pending publication – no, no: pending submission; first up, a translation of Shelley into reasonable English).
Monday, December 1, 2008
Jdimytai Damour
We have forgotten about Thanksgiving. How else can we explain the stampeding to death of Jdimytai Damour?
I don’t know anything about Mr. Damour; I don’t know if he was kind or unkind; and I don’t know anything about the people who trampled him; I don’t know if they lapsed or if I should be unsurprised. I don’t really care about blaming anyone for Mr. Damour’s death, although it would be easy to blame the people who trampled him and to not be wrong.
I am more interested in the question, How did these human hearts become hearts of stone? It is one thing to be malicious, to capture people, to blow them up, to shoot them, to decide that one person is worth less than another; but it is something subtly different to be, perhaps, not malicious, but indifferent without margin. At least in our malice we choose to be hurtful. Indifference, however, we gather to ourselves the way a tree gathers fruit to its branches: there is a system in place in the world of which we find ourselves a part – indifference seems to work in us without our knowing.
Unless we fight it. And Christmas, unfortunately, has prepared itself against us. A holiday that, for Christians, should excuse us from “the anxieties of daily life,”* has instead cloaked selfishness in the wool of love; and we are no longer rejoicing with our families if this seeming-love is a burden to us.
There were many factors involved in the tragedy of Mr. Damour’s death and I don’t want to make a simple thing of it. But we can probably sum up the causes into an obvious truth: for a small group of people, for a small amount of time, there was an absence of care -- self-care (not Mr. Damour’s, but the self-care that is absent in the presence of guilt), and care of the fellow. And I cannot shake the feeling that, in some way, if I was ever selfish, or if I ever placated the selfishness of another, I contributed to the culture that led to this man’s death. It is time, therefore, to move forward in simplicity, and to better give of myself with joy.
* “Beware that your hearts do not become drowsy from carousing and drunkenness and the anxieties of daily life, and that day catch you by surprise like a trap.” Luke 21:34.
I don’t know anything about Mr. Damour; I don’t know if he was kind or unkind; and I don’t know anything about the people who trampled him; I don’t know if they lapsed or if I should be unsurprised. I don’t really care about blaming anyone for Mr. Damour’s death, although it would be easy to blame the people who trampled him and to not be wrong.
I am more interested in the question, How did these human hearts become hearts of stone? It is one thing to be malicious, to capture people, to blow them up, to shoot them, to decide that one person is worth less than another; but it is something subtly different to be, perhaps, not malicious, but indifferent without margin. At least in our malice we choose to be hurtful. Indifference, however, we gather to ourselves the way a tree gathers fruit to its branches: there is a system in place in the world of which we find ourselves a part – indifference seems to work in us without our knowing.
Unless we fight it. And Christmas, unfortunately, has prepared itself against us. A holiday that, for Christians, should excuse us from “the anxieties of daily life,”* has instead cloaked selfishness in the wool of love; and we are no longer rejoicing with our families if this seeming-love is a burden to us.
There were many factors involved in the tragedy of Mr. Damour’s death and I don’t want to make a simple thing of it. But we can probably sum up the causes into an obvious truth: for a small group of people, for a small amount of time, there was an absence of care -- self-care (not Mr. Damour’s, but the self-care that is absent in the presence of guilt), and care of the fellow. And I cannot shake the feeling that, in some way, if I was ever selfish, or if I ever placated the selfishness of another, I contributed to the culture that led to this man’s death. It is time, therefore, to move forward in simplicity, and to better give of myself with joy.
* “Beware that your hearts do not become drowsy from carousing and drunkenness and the anxieties of daily life, and that day catch you by surprise like a trap.” Luke 21:34.
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