July 10, 2019

July 10, 2019 By

Grave of Edith Mary Tolkien (Luthien) and John  Ronald Reuel Tolkien (Beren)/ geograph

Reading Tolkien’s stories, it is easy to pick up the fact that the various races of Middle Earth often stood in competition with each other, causing various forms of racial tension and notions of racial supremacy to emerge.[1] Some readers, following this line of thought, try to use Tolkien as a prop for their own racism. They see that claims of superiority prove that there should be some races, some groups, which are seen as superior to others, who, then, are justified in keeping to themselves while they expect entitled treatment from others. However, this approach to his works would go against what Tolkien himself has said of his own beliefs elsewhere.

J.R.R. Tolkien, born in Bloemfontein, of the Orange Free State (now a part of South Africa), knew of the prejudices which were found in his birth place, prejudices which he firmly opposed. In his Valedictory Address to the University of Oxford (1959), he mentioned his firm detestation of all forms of apartheid:

If we consider what Merton College and what the Oxford School of English owes to the Antipodes, to the Southern Hemisphere, especially to scholars born in Australia and New Zealand, it may well be felt that it is only just that one of them should now ascend an Oxford chair of English. Indeed, it may be thought that justice has been delayed since 1925. There are of course other lands under the Southern Cross. I was born in one; though I do not claim to be the most learned of those who have come hither from the far end of the Dark Continent. But I have the hatred of apartheid in my bones; and most of all, I detest the segregation or separation of Language and Literature. I do not care which of them you think White.[2]

As Tolkien was a philologist, it is understandable why he mentioned his utter detestation of the artificial separation and division between the fields of Language and the Literature; he understood the study of one needed the study of the other. Trying to divide them, creating disciplines which saw themselves as superior to the other, fell for a grave error which would end up harming both. What is important and fitting about his remarks is that he understood such distinctions often were based upon prejudices and biases, artificial classifications, similar to the kinds which are used by racists to justify their racism. This is what tied his comments together. He did not care for what people looked for as being superior to others, and using that to justify the unjustifiable, that is the creation of artificial division among peoples based upon whatever biases they use to create such divisions. “I do not care which of them you think White,” indeed!

Knowing his biographical history will give a glimpse as to how Tolkien grew to detest such ideologies. While he was born in South Africa, he did not live there long; when he was three, when Tolkien, his brother Hilary, and his mother were visiting England, his father died. While his family was initially taken care of by other family members, when his mother converted to Catholicism (and with her, Tolkien and his brother as well), most of his extended family cut off all aid, so that the Tolkiens had to live on their own, with his mother working hard to take care of her children, both physically and spiritual. With all the stress, and poor physical health due to diabetes, she died young, at the age of thirty-four; by the time of her death, she had chosen Fr. Francis Xavier Morgan, a priest in the Birmingham Oratory, to be the guardian of her children. The prejudice which most (but not all) of his extended family held against Catholicism, he felt, had pushed her to an early death, making him realize how dangerous bigotry was to a healthy society.  He held high regard for Fr. Morgan, although, when he met Edith Bratt, Fr. Morgan put a stop to their relationship, demanding they stay apart until Tolkien was twenty-one years old.

The horror of his early life, the horror of feeling betrayed by his own family, is reflected in many of Tolkien’s own writings, including and especially in the story of Beren and Lúthien, characters which he saw connected to himself and the love of his life, Edith. Beren, a human, and Lúthien, the daughter of an Elvish king, fell in love, but Lúthien’s father, Thingol, opposed it as much as he could. While many note that the story reflects, in part, Tolkien’s experience of his own desire to marry Edith, and the challenges he faced with his guardian, Fr. Morgan, the racial prejudices which were manifest in Thingol’s rejection of Beren must not be ignored. Thingol’s objections to Beren marrying his daughter lay in part with Beren’s lowly status as a man, similar to the way many racists would be upset with their daughter dating and marrying a man who was of a race they denigrated:

But Thingol looked in silence upon Lúthien; and he thought in his heart: ‘Unhappy Men, children of little lords and brief kings, shall such as these lay hands on you, and yet live?’ Then breaking the silence he said: ‘I see the ring, son of Barahir, and I perceive that you are proud, and deem yourself mighty. But a father’s deeds, even had his service been rendered to me, avail not to win the daughter of Thingol and Melian. See now! I too desire a treasure that is withheld. For rock and steel and the fires of Morgoth keep the jewel that I would possess against all the powers of the Elf-kingdoms. Yet I hear you say that bonds such as these do not daunt you. Go your way therefore! Bring to me in your hand a Silmaril from Morgoth’s crown; and then, if she will, Lúthien may set her hand in yours. Then you shall have my jewel; and though the fate of Arda lie within the Silmarils, yet you shall hold me generous.’[3]

Tolkien understood what it was to be looked down upon by others, to be thought lesser, and mistreated because others believed themselves to be superior and demanded obedience and respect because of it. Thingol, seeing Beren as an inferior unworthy of his daughter, put forward a challenge that he thought could not be met, for Beren to take the Silmaril from the crown of the Dark Lord, Morgoth, knowing that Morgoth never would have it out of his presence. Thingol demanded what he thought was impossible, and yet Beren took up the quest. Beren, despite being a human, despite being apparently inferior to the Elves, proved himself their superior by doing what they thought was impossible: he was able to get the Silmaril, though it cost him much in the process, and Lúthien herself aided him so that without her, he would have failed. But the point is that Thingol had misjudged Beren, the way supremacists misjudge others: his own thoughts of superiority made him ignore the greatness which was before him. Beren was a great hero, indeed one of the greatest, whose glory surpassed most of the Elves.  When Beren completed the fool’s errand, Thingol finally understood what he had brought, all the harm which he caused to himself, to his kingdom, to his daughter, all because of his pride, and he actually had a change of heart:

Then Thingol’s mood was softened; and Beren sat before his throne upon the left, and Lúthien upon the right, and they told all the tale of the Quest, while all there listened and were filled with amazement. And it seemed to Thingol that this Man was unlike all other mortal Men, and among the great in Arda, and the love of Lúthien a thing new and strange; and he perceived that their doom might not be withstood by any power of the world. Therefore at the last he yielded his will, and Beren took the hand of Lúthien before the throne of her father.[4]

The challenge, then, which came out of Thingol reflected Tolkien’s own challenges to get his own guardian to accept his relationship with Edith, but yet, connected to it, we sense a little of Tolkien’s other challenges in life, the challenges of prejudice which he felt led his mother to her doom. Likewise, though Thingol relented, his notion of supremacy not only proved false, but also fatal to his kingdom of Doriath, for once the Silmaril was brought into Doriath, it was only a matter of time before Doriath met its own end. In this manner, Tolkien understood not only the way supremacy harms others but also harms those who hold such an ideology because they, in trying to create an artificial distinction from others, only weaken themselves in the process.

Racism and religious bigotry share a common core. Both forms of bias found Tolkien’s strong objection. Yet, he also realized how difficult it is to overcome either. Indeed, he knew how such ideologies infected the minds of great peoples, which is why the manifestation of this problem often found itself in his works with peoples who had reasons to think themselves to be great (such as the Elves). The problem is not in the recognition of their own greatness, but in the way they thought it meant others, in their differences, were inferior; those who had some sort of racial pride often became negligent in that pride, causing their own destruction, while those of other races, those who were considered to be inferior, were often the very ones who achieved the greatest deeds of all, showing how far from reality such prejudices actually were. Perhaps the most important demonstration of this in The Lord of the Rings is found in what Tolkien recorded of the deeds of the Hobbits, the little folk who seemed to be insignificant and yet who, among all others, were the ones who were able to do what needed to be done to save Middle Earth. The Elves, despite their apparent greatness, just stood back and let things fall apart, and in doing so, felt the slow waning of their power and influence in Middle Earth.

Because of Tolkien’s hatred for apartheid, which he felt was so integral to his own being, it should not be surprising to see reflections within his works which demonstrate the failing of such a political ideology, and with it, all forms of racial discrimination. Nonetheless, for this to be found in his works, Tolkien needed to have various versions of racial supremacy in his tales. Those who read his stories thinking the existence of such biases prove Tolkien’s own support of them need only to read his utter detestation of the apartheid which existed in the land of his birth and see how mistaken they are.

[1] Thus, there is a great deal of conflict between Elves, Dwarves, and Men. But, it is also true, that within each group, the potential for further kinds of supremacy emerge, such as those found with the Elves, and the way they are divided into differing groups, such as the Avari, and the Vanyar, Noldor, and Teleri.

[2] J.R.R. Tolkien, “Valedictory Address” in The Monster & The Critics and Other Essays (London: HarperCollins, 1997), 238.

[3]  J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company. 1977), 167.

[4] J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion, 184.

 

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May 14, 2019

May 14, 2019 By

Antoine Glédel: Orque Terre du Milieu / Wikimedia Commons

Many fans of J.R.R. Tolkien like to use his works to promote war. Others, likewise, like to use his works as a defense of racism. The first group suggests that the works of Tolkien are filled with war, showing the good which can come out of it, forgetting, however, the ultimate solution for Tolkien was not war, and the embrace of power which is required in war to be a “victor,” but the destruction of the Ring, and the rejection of all ideologies of power. Those of the second group like to use Orcs as a metaphor, representing all the races and culture they want to destroy, forgetting that Tolkien wanted it to be understood that the Orcs represented the corruption that can take place and destroy anyone from any race or culture. The Orcs, then, can be found anywhere, and indeed, are found everywhere. The way some of the so-called “ultra-right” or “alt-right” try to use and employ motifs from Tolkien’s works do so in a way to corrupt them, indeed, overturning the insights which inspired Tolkien to write his stories.

Thus, while Tolkien firmly rejected the evils which came out of Nazi Germany, horrified by the way Hitler had used and abused the “noble northern spirit” with a demonic perversion of it,[1] he was also concerned with the way the Allies in World War II were embracing the same perversions so that in the future, they would risk becoming that which they fought against. That is, he saw many were embracing the will to power and domination, the power of the Ring, while others were promoting and spreading terrible ideologies which turned people into “Orcs.” Using parallels from his own stories, Tolkien explained his fear to his son, Christopher:

However it is, humans being what they are, quite inevitable, and the only cure (short of universal Conversion) is not to have wars – nor planning, nor organizations, nor regimentation. Your service is, of course, as anybody with any intelligence and ears and eyes knows, a very bad one, living on the repute of a few gallant men, and you are probably in a particularly bad corner of it. But all Big Things planned in a big way feel like that to the toad under the harrow, though on a general view they do function and do their job. An ultimately evil job. For we are attempting to conquer Sauron with the Ring. And we shall (it seems) succeed. But the penalty is, as you will know, to breed new Saurons, and slowly turn Men and Elves into Orcs. Not that in real life things are as clear cut as in a story, and we started out with a great many Orcs on our side …[2]

Despite what some of his fans might suggest, Tolkien understood the horrors of war. While he did not object to the notion of a just defense, he was against any militant notions such as a pre-emptive strike as being justified. He thought that the solution to war was not more war, or plans for more wars, but rather, to go beyond the logic of war itself. War begets war; preparing for war leads to people to accept the unacceptable, to use “the Ring” in order to achieve an easy victory, only to find themselves becoming Dark Lords themselves. As the Orcs were created by corruption, that is, they must not be seen as a race which developed on its own, Tolkien understood that with a new Dark Lord there would be more Orcs, that is, more corrupted people who would follow the ideologies of that new Dark Lord. Racism, nationalism, fearmongering, hatred, selfishness, and the rejection of the common good, all of these are a part of the corruption which creates an Orc, the willing slave of a Dark Lord.

Tolkien was concerned with what the Allies were willing to use in order to achieve victory. He knew and saw firsthand the corruption of the will to power, and with it, a willingness to use whatever force one could attain as a means of destroying others. While Tolkien was clear that the Ring was not an allegory of the Atomic Bomb, because he wrote of the Ring long before the bomb was created and used, it is clear Tolkien saw in it a darkness which was similar to the power of the Ring itself:

The news today about ‘Atomic bombs’ is so horrifying one is stunned. The utter folly of these lunatic physicists to consent to do such work for war-purposes: calmly plotting the destruction of the world! Such explosives in men’s hands, while their moral and intellectual status is declining, is about as useful as giving out firearms to all inmates of a gaol and then saying that you hope ‘this will ensure peace.’[3]

While we must avoid any suggestion that the Ring was meant as an allegory of the Atomic Bomb, it is not wrong to see Tolkien’s understanding of the power and destruction possible with the Ring to be something contained within Atomic weaponry. Those who possess such weaponry face the same corruption and power as those who possess the Ring. The Ring is not an allegory of the bomb, it is something deeper, because Tolkien’s literary analysis transcends the bomb. Tolkien’s presentation of the way the Ring corrupts its users points out the way any such evil, any attempt to create a force of power and domination of others, will corrupt those who employ their use. Even when some good is intended, the corruption will be there.  For this reason, although the Ring is not an allegory of the bomb, it represents the same fundamental error which is had by those who produced and used the bomb, explaining how and why it could appear to be such an allegory.

With the rise of militant nationalism and alt-right leaders who engage nationalism for the sake of power, thus, with those embracing some form of the Ring, Tolkien’s words to his son appear prophetic. And just like Hitler once used the “northern spirit” with all its tales, tales which Tolkien himself had loved in his youth, to corrupt his people and turn them into Orcs, so we see many use other good tales, even Tolkien’s, are being used and abused to corrupt others. The same type of nationalistic pride and the same violent, xenophobic stand suggested by Hitler and other fascists of Tolkien’s day are on the rise once again.  Tolkien, who was somewhat confused by the reaction to his work in the 1960s, would be disgusted with the way some are using his works to promote the rise of a new Dark Lord, a new Sauron.  Instead of being used to glorify war, they should be used to exemplify the lesson Tolkien himself learned through his own military experience: war is hell, and in its wake, those who are said to be its victors lose much of themselves in the process. After World War I and II, Europe, indeed, the world was harmed because the common good was overturned:

I have just heard the news … Russians 60 miles from Berlin. It does look as if something decisive might happen soon. The appalling destruction and misery of this war mount hourly: destruction of what should be (indeed is) the common wealth of Europe, and the world, if mankind were not so besotted, wealth the loss of which will affect us all, victors or not. Yet people gloat to hear of the endless lines, 40 miles long, of miserable refugees, women and children pouring West, dying on the way. There seems no bowels of mercy or compassion, no imagination, left in this dark diabolic hour. [4]

Tolkien had a sense that humanity needed to come together, to embrace a way beyond the war of war. Europe, and the world, both had a common heritage and wealth which could be and should be shared by all, instead of some group or another thinking selfishly for their own interests alone. Pain and sorrow create more pain and sorrow: the victors of World War II had not learned the lesson of the war because they had begun to recreate the structures of sin which led to Hitler and his destructive march across Europe. Refugees, women and children, fleeing from war-torn sites should be given compassion and mercy, not ridicule and further abuse: the devilish temptation which had turned Hitler crazy could be seen finding a new host in the rest of Europe in the terrible reaction many Europeans had for such refugees. This evil ideology festered, and now has become a terrible outgrowth affecting not only Europe, but the rest of the world, with the treatment of the Trump administration with those seeking asylum representing one horrifying example of this evil.

Readers of Tolkien’s works should not be surprised about his perspective because it finds itself repeated several times in his works. Certainly, the need for people of different races, people of different lands, to overcome their differences and work together for the common good presents itself time and time again in his works.

In The Hobbit, dwarves, elves and humans had to overcome their histories of antagonism, mistrust, and greed, in over to come together and face the common enemy:

“Come!” called Gandalf. “There is yet time for council. Let Dain son of Nain come swiftly to us!”

So began a battle that none had expected; and it was called the Battle of Five Armies, and it was very terrible. Upon one side were the Goblins and the wild Wolves, and upon the other were Elves and Men and Dwarves.[5]

When people realize the trouble they face together, they need to come together, forgetting their rivalries if they want to succeed:

This is the plan that he made in council with the Elvenking, and with Bard; and with Dain, for the dwarf-lord now joined them: the Goblins were the foes of all, and at their coming all other quarrels were forgotten.[6]

What was true in The Hobbit was also true in The Lord of the Rings. The free peoples needed to come together, to join in the mission of Frodo to destroy the Ring. Only together, not apart, could they do what was necessary for success:

The Company of the Ring shall be Nine; and the Nine Walkers shall be set against the Nine Riders that are evil. With you and your faithful servant, Gandalf will go; for this shall be his great task, and maybe the end of his labours.

For the rest, they shall represent the other Free Peoples of the World: Elves, Dwarves, and Men. Legolas shall be for the Elves; and Gimli son of Glóin for the Dwarves. They are willing to go at least to the passes of the Mountains, and maybe beyond. For men you shall have Aragorn son of Arathorn, for the Ring of Isildur concerns him closely.[7]

Once again, only by coming together, and overcoming old prejudices, did the fellowship prove itself to transcend the ways of Sauron and have what it took to succeed in their mission. Perhaps no better representative of this is found in the Lord of the Rings than with the way Gimli was won over by Galadriel: the dark history between the dwarves and the elves, a history which included some of the way the elves treated the dwarves in The Hobbit finds itself overturned and healed by three golden strands of Galadriel’s hair.

And to those who would like to make some sort of separatist movement, promoting a particular ideology and trying to keep it pure and untouched from outsiders, Tolkien consistently wrote of the end result of such a wasted effort. This could be seen in the fall of Gondolin. Gondolin, to be sure, had started with a good objective and not the same ideology as many moderns wanting to retreat from world, fell because of its own attempt to keep to itself and hide itself from the world. Its destruction came from within as Maeglin, the king’s nephew, became an ally with Morgoth, the Dark Lord, and helped Morgoth in destroying Gondolin. In contrast to Gondolin, the elves at Rivendell never entirely cut themselves off from the rest of Middle Earth, and it was because of this Rivendell could become not only a true safe haven for those in need, but also a place of council where the plan to overturn Sauron’s hold on Middle Earth could be made. Indeed, Elrond was half-elven, demonstrating that great leadership and wisdom and authority came to him in part because he was able to take from the best of two different races and cultures, repudiating within his own being any notion of the superiority of “racial purity.”

Tolkien, far from a figure representative of the alt-right, or the ultra-right wing with their ideologies of power, warmongering, and xenophobia, was a writer who wrote against those ideologies, afraid of what their embrace would bring into the world. When he begun his sequel to The Lord of the Rings, The New Shadow, he saw, to his dismay, corruption was once again taking place in Middle Earth: kids were forming gangs, pretending to be Orcs, showing that Gondor had not learned its lesson from the fight against Sauron. It was too dire a story and Tolkien did not write much before giving up on his sequel and returning to his earlier tales, perfecting them throughout the rest of his life. But yet, it serves as a fine representation of the warning which he gave to Christopher: the people of the earth need not only to be victorious against the other, but they need to be victorious in a way that overturns the ideology of the other lest they become that which they fight against and doom themselves to repeat the evils of the past. The rise of the alt-right is like the rise of children turning into “Orc gangs” after the defeat of Sauron. We, unlike Tolkien, have to face them and deal with them today. Let us remember what it is we fought for in the past, what we should fight for now, and do so by not embracing the power of the Ring and turning  ourselves into Dark Lords: let us, rather, embrace the truths which the alt-right reject and follow them to overturn the alt-right itself. Compassion, mercy, imagination, and the common good: these need to be our tools; Tolkien understood this. Let us heed his wisdom.

[1] See J.R.R. Tolkien, “Letter 45 to Michael Tolkien” in The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien. Ed. Humphrey Carpenter (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1981), 55-6.

[2] J.R.R. Tolkien, “Letter 66 to Christopher Tolkien” in The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien. Ed. Humphrey Carpenter (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1981), 78.

[3] J.R.R. Tolkien, “Letter 102 to Christopher Tolkien” in The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien. Ed. Humphrey Carpenter (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1981), 116.

[4] J.R.R. Tolkien, “Letter 96 to Christopher Tolkien” in The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien. Ed. Humphrey Carpenter (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1981), 111.

[5] J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1966; rev. 1978), 237.

[6] J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit, 237.

[7]  J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1966.), 288-9.

 

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April 12, 2018

April 12, 2018 By

In The Lord of the Rings, Tolkien, with his mythopoetic style, created a world filled with different races and cultures which had histories of their own, pitting them in conflict with each other. Each race, each nation, each culture could list valid grievances against each other; the Elves and the Dwarves certainly had a long history of distrust and dislike which would otherwise seem unsurmountable. And yet, when Sauron was revealed once again active in Middle Earth, they were able to come together, put aside their differences, and work for the common good. Wisdom not only demonstrated that the Ring had to be destroyed, but also, the conflicts which separated and divided the peoples of Middle Earth had to be overcome so that they could work together to bring about the downfall of Sauron.  Thus, after Frodo had indicated he would take the Ring to Mordor, Elrond made sure he would have suitable companions to help him with his task, companions representing the different peoples of Middle Earth:

‘And I will choose you companions to go with you, as far as they will or fortune allows. The number must be few, since your hope is in speed and secrecy. Had I a host of Elves in armour of the Elder Days, it would avail little, save to arouse the power of Mordor.

‘The Company of the Ring shall be Nine; and the Nine Walkers shall be set against the Nine Riders that are evil. With you and your faithful servant, Gandalf will go; for this shall be his great task, and maybe the end of his labours.

‘For the rest, they shall represent the other Free Peoples of the World: Elves, Dwarves, and Men. Legolas shall be for the Elves; and Gimli son of Glóin for the Dwarves. They are willing to go at least to the passes of the Mountains, and maybe beyond. For men you shall have Aragorn son of Arathorn, for the Ring of Isildur concerns him closely.’[1]

Evil divides, while the common good unites. The Ring, itself a force of evil, often found its way to cause division even within the Fellowship, which can be seen especially with the fate of Boromir indicated, and yet even in the midst of such evil, something good can come about and heal what is wounded, as also the repentance and end of Boromir also indicated. What divides, what destroys the common good, what causes strife and conflict, can be and must be dealt with; but it must be dealt with in the right way, with respect for the common good. The common good is real, and it must be, in its nature, pluralistic, allowing for diversity. When some are unable to find their place within the common good, the common good is itself undermined.

This is one of the many lessons which can be found in The Lord of the Rings. The common good requires a pluralistic approach; the little people of the world, those who seem small and insignificant, represented by the Hobbits, have a task equal to or even greater than those who otherwise seem to be influential and important in the affairs of the world. Diversity brings strength, so long as the diversity is brought together for the common good. The rich must give way to the poor as the poor inherits the earth so that they can enjoy the good of the earth with the poor.

The scandal of the incarnation is itself a pluralistic scandal. In the body of Christ, there is a diversity of persons.  “For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. For by one Spirit we were all baptized into one body — Jews or Greeks, slaves or free — and all were made to drink of one Spirit” (1Cor. 12:12-13 RSV). Salvation might be from the Jews, but it is opened up to all – all are to come together and share their gifts with each other, helping each other, serving each other in love, overriding the division established by sin. “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus” (Gal. 3:28 RSV).  And yet, in that unity, there comes a new diversity; people do not find themselves being absorbed into the body of Christ with their personal differences are undermined. In Christ, they should discern that they are called to serve each other, not lording it over each other because they believe their unique qualities make them superior to everyone else:

As it is, there are many parts, yet one body. The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.”  On the contrary, the parts of the body which seem to be weaker are indispensable,  and those parts of the body which we think less honorable we invest with the greater honor, and our unpresentable parts are treated with greater modesty, which our more presentable parts do not require. But God has so composed the body, giving the greater honor to the inferior part,  that there may be no discord in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another.  (1Cor. 12:20-25 RSV),

Understanding, therefore, that conflict due to division in the world is the result of sin, the Christian is to seek to bring a harmonious unity to the different peoples and cultures in Christ, working to serve and help each other with their unique gifts.  Those who were seen as less and inferior turn out to be the very ones who should be promoted just as those who thought themselves to be great because of their place in divided humanity will find their greatness was a result of sin and is going to be undermined before they find their true place in the better harmony of Christ:

And he lifted up his eyes on his disciples, and said: “Blessed are you poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. “Blessed are you that hunger now, for you shall be satisfied. “Blessed are you that weep now, for you shall laugh. “Blessed are you when men hate you, and when they exclude you and revile you, and cast out your name as evil, on account of the Son of man! Rejoice in that day, and leap for joy, for behold, your reward is great in heaven; for so their fathers did to the prophets.

“But woe to you that are rich, for you have received your consolation.  “Woe to you that are full now, for you shall hunger. “Woe to you that laugh now, for you shall mourn and weep. “Woe to you, when all men speak well of you, for so their fathers did to the false prophets” (Lk. 6:20-26 RSV).

Those who benefit from sin will suffer as a result of their sin; they get the reward of sin. However, this does not have to be their end. They are called to penance, to join in with the little people, to work together and overcome the division and hostility which they thrive upon, so that the common good can be established. In the Lord of the Rings, this is established by the way the Hobbits, the lowly people of the Shire, are aided by the great heroes of their time;  the disharmony which divided Elf, Dwarf and Man from each other was overcome by the little people, the poor in spirit, so that in wisdom, new friendships were formed which allowed them to overcome the power of darkness, the One Ring which would divide them all. Tolkien certainly understood the positive value of pluralism in society, even as he understood the evils of racism and the conflicts which arose from racist ideologies (as can be seen in the treatment of humanity by the Elves), but he also understood the common good and the good which is established in a unified diversity.

Pluralism is at the heart of the Christian message; the early disciples had to learn this as their prejudices against Samaritans and Gentiles gave way to the church’s universal scope. The way to destroy the ring, the power of evil which divides people against each other, is the same as it is in the Lord of the Rings. The little people, the people poor in spirit but big in faith, must be aided by the rest of society; then together they must journey to where the ring was constructed, that is, to the causes which establish the social structures of evil in society, and overturn them together. Where there is hatred and injustice, love and justice must prevail.  The roots of the evil must be overturned with the humble leading the way. Pluralism is not against the Gospel, it is the fruit of the Gospel. The evil of Babel is overturned by the Spirit of Life, as the church comes together, united under the humblest of all, the Lord Jesus Christ, who emptied himself of all so that he can reign over all with love.

 

[Image=A Hobbit by  Antoine Glédel [CC BY-SA 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], from Wikimedia Commons[

[1] J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1954; rpr. 1994), 268.

 

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February 9, 2016

February 9, 2016 By

Kullervo on Tolkien Bookshelf, Photograph by Henry Karlson
Kullervo on Tolkien Bookshelf, Photograph by Henry Karlson

It has long been known that the story of Kullervo from the Finnish legendarium, the Kalevala, played an important role in the early development of J. R. R. Tolkien’s own legendarium. The Kullervo cycle in the Kalevala served as a foundation for the tragic character of Túrin Turambar in The Silmarillion. There has been for some time a debate as to the kind of influence Kullervo had on Tolkien. It was not until recently that most Tolkien scholars got a chance to read Tolkien’s early attempt at writing with his own re-telling of the Kullervo story itself that most of the arguments have ended, showing that its structure and ideas, while adapted and transformed, clearly set the stage for the creation of Túrin.

But, for some, the story of Kullervo seemed to be a rather odd character for Tolkien to find so interesting, as John Garth explained:

It is a strange story to have captured the imagination of a fervent Roman Catholic: Kullervo unwittingly seduces his sister, who kills herself, and then he too commits suicide.[1]

Verlyn Flieger, in the commentary and notes to the published edition of what Tolkien had finished of The Story of Kullervo, explained that at the time of writing the story, Tolkien might not have been so fervent in his faith, and certainly, he did not find it strange nor his interest in the work in conflict with whatever faith he did hold:

Tolkien clearly did not find it strange (‘great’ and ‘tragic’ were his adjectives), and seems to have felt no conflict with his Catholicism, which at that point was apparently not very ‘fervent’ anyway. Carpenter cites Tolkien’s acknowledgment that his first terms at Oxford ‘had passed “with practically none or very little practice of religion”’ (Biography, p.58), and notes ‘his lapses of the previous year [1912]’ (ibid., p. 66).[2]

Both seem to think that an answer could lie in the circumstances Tolkien found himself in. He was, up to that point, living a tragic life of his own, having lost his parents and finding himself kept away from the love of his life, Edith.

While the extent of Tolkien’s “lapses” from his faith are hard for us to know without further reading and study of writings not generally available to the average Tolkien reader (such as more letters and his diary), whatever the case, I think Tolkien would have had as high an attraction and love for the story, even if he was as fervent a Catholic reading it as he was later in life.

That is, I think it comes from a mistaken understanding of both Tolkien and Catholicism to find such a fascination with Kullervo problematic. Heroic tales and legends have long been told and retold, and held in esteem, by Catholics, long before Tolkien. His beloved Beowulf is a great example of this, where we find the author, and the audience, being Catholic – and yet full of appreciation and respect for the pre-Christian worldview which is echoed throughout the tale. Tolkien saw it was a pre-Christian tale being adapted by a Christian writer, often inserting Christian themes which sometimes interrupted the tale to make its Christianization complete, such as when he discussed the relationship between Cain and Grendel:

Our poet’s answer in the first case he found in the book of Genesis. The misformed man-mocking monsters were descendants of Cain. And the reference to the ‘giants’ of old clinched the matter for him. The blending is clearly observable: he begins with northern words eotenas, ylfe (two classes of non-human but human-shaped creatures), and ends with the word gigantas borrowed from the Latin version of Scripture [Genesis VI.4]. [3]

Beowulf was not particular unique in doing this. Medieval literature often contained such a mix, though sometimes the writer would lean more Christian in style than found in Beowulf, and others more succinctly pre-Christian. And, we must remember, he had grown to love the fantastic literature of the nineteenth century, such as found in the writings of William Morris, which had a great influence on Tolkien, where the medieval mixture of the two traditions could and would be found again (with some other, significant sources of inspiration, such as the new social awareness that had developed in modern times, also found in such stories). In other words, Tolkien not only had been long accustomed to the kind of tales he found in the Kalevala, leading him to reproduce similar kinds of stories himself, but he had already seen that medieval Christians had no problems producing such tales of their own. While, it is true, that the Reformation and Counter-Reformation had brought about a worldview which became more critical of such pagan-Christian syntheses, Tolkien was not beholden to it, and so would have no reason to feel as if there were any conflict between his faith and the kinds of stories he loved to read and later write.

This is not to say that there was no sense of consolation Tolkien felt reading tragic tales with heroes who had experienced similar (but much worse) tragedy as himself, and finding such stories attractive, felt the need to write one out during a time of personal crisis. Good writers often put much of themselves in their writing. But to get into the internal psyche of Tolkien in such a manner is not needed for us to understand how and why he could pick up such stories, be fascinated by them, write them, and feel no conflict in doing so with his religious faith. His faith was able to embrace and take in the light of other faiths, to appreciate what they have to offer, and show how they can work with and complement the Christian faith.

And that is something we all need to be able to appreciate, not just as a way to understand Tolkien, but to help is in our own walk with God in general. He shows us that what might seem impossible if we rely upon a fundamentalist mindset is possible, and not because of lack of faith, but in and with it. For the Christian faith is incarnational. It takes the good wherever it is found, and embraces it, and shows how that good relates to other goods. Truth is truth no matter where it is found. And if we encounter something beautiful, something glorious, that we find ourselves spiritually attracted to it, the beauty shows that there is some goodness and truth there, that it would be dangerous to entirely dismiss and reject that which we find so attractive. Certainly we might need to work with the beauty, and find the kernel of truth and goodness shining forth in it, so that we can find the right way to embrace it, and that work is never easy, but that is different from a wholesale dismissal of the truth because of where the ray of truth is found. Thus, we find in Vatican Council II, the exhortation of Nostra Aetate to do just this:

The Church, therefore, exhorts her sons, that through dialogue and collaboration with the followers of other religions, carried out with prudence and love and in witness to the Christian faith and life, they recognize, preserve and promote the good things, spiritual and moral, as well as the socio-cultural values found among these men.[4]

Tolkien represented, in literary fashion, what this meant; he did not produce such a tradition but was only the heir and a great representative of it in the twentieth century. Certainly, any spiritual crisis he might have had could, therefore, have been helped by his love and embrace of such myths and legends as the Kalevala. We could possibly see an element of how he deepened his faith with his love for myths in his poem, Mythopoeia, as much as see how he helped his friend, C.S. Lewis come to the faith through a similar embrace of such great legends and myths. But even if he did not have such a crisis of faith himself, there should be no surprise or confusion that Tolkien the Medievalist, Tolkien the fan of the pre-Raphaelites and William Morris, would find such a legendarium as fascinating as he did.

[1] John Garth, Tolkien and the Great War: The Threshold of Middle Earth (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2003), 26.

[2] J. R. R. Tolkien, The Story of Kullervo. ed. Verlyn Flieger (London: HarperCollinsPublishers, 2015), 142.

[3] J.R.R. Tolkien, Beowulf. A Translation and Commentary. Together with Sellic Spell. ed. Christopher Tolkien (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2014), 162.

[4] Nostra Aetate ¶2. Vatican Translation.

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September 3, 2024

September 3, 2024 By
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-wuppertaler: Marketing For The Rings Of Power From Germany /  Wikimedia Commons

I’ve been a fan of J.R.R. Tolkien and his works for most of my life. Looking back, I think my initial interest came from Rankin/Bass and their versions of  The Hobbit and  The Return of the King, though I remember seeing Ralph Bakshi’s The Lord of the Rings with my family. We also owned a lp of The Hobbit, which I listened to when I was young. All of these influenced my initial take on Middle Earth, so that when I started reading, I read The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings.  I remember, in third grade, my teacher took a picture of me reading The Fellowship of the Ring; looking back, she probably was surprised someone so young was reading such a novel, but it was one I carried with me for quite some time as I read through it. What I got out of it then was far less than I would get out of it later, but I was enchanted by Tolkien and his world. Later, I would turn to his other books, fiction and non-fiction alike, as I found them (or they were released), and each time, I was drawn deeper into the themes which Tolkien placed throughout his writings, many of which I would later write upon myself.

When Peter Jackson released his version of The Lord of the Rings and then later, The Hobbit, there were many aspects of them which I liked. My favorite film of his is The Fellowship of the Ring, as I think it did the best presenting Tolkien’s vision, despite the liberties taken in it. Sadly, I found The Two Towers disappointing, as I found it greatly changed the story in ways which not only were not needed, not only made the story worse, but did so in a way which radically changed characters and their motivations (such as the way Faramir abducted Frodo and took him to Osgiliath). What I found to be extremely distasteful was the way Peter Jackson, Fran Walsh, Philippa Boyens, and Stephen Sinclair suggested that the changes they made were not done simply because books need to be adapted to be filmed, but because they thought they improved Tolkien’s story. Saying this, they proved they did not understand Tolkien’s work and the themes he put in it, themes which often reflected Tolkien’s own religious  (Catholic) sensibilities. The Return of the King was much better, and rounded off the trilogy well, allowing me to enjoy Jackson’s films despite the ways he departed from Tolkien’s vision.

When The Rings of Power was announced for Amazon, I was not certain how it would work. I was curious enough to watch the first season, especially as I saw that the producers were concerned to make sure the show followed the spirit of Tolkien, even if, like Jackson’s movies, there would be changes to fit the format (as well as having new characters and story elements which the producers hoped would fit into Tolkien’s narrative). I liked what I saw, even if I could and did find elements which I would have done differently, for, despite those differences, I found the show worked and felt truer to Tolkien’s ethos than Jackson’s movies. I certainly rejected all those who mercilessly lambasted the show, thinking many of them, who often tried to say the show departed from Tolkien’s stories, did not know Tolkien’s work and the way Tolkien wrote a variety, sometimes contradictory, stories concerning the Second Age of Middle Earth. I also found they often came from a far-right (alt-right, “anti-woke”) ideology which was far from Tolkien’s own take (indeed, it was one which Tolkien specifically rejected and fought against while he was alive).

Having seen the beginning of the second season of The Rings of Power , I find the show has developed, and that development improved what I already found to be acceptable. While the first season set things up, and in doing so, changed the sequence of events as found in various versions Tolkien produced of the Second Age of Middle Earth, the second season does not have to do all the set-up and so is far more ready to continue with its presentation of the Second Age. In doing so, I find it is highlighting many of Tolkien’s themes, showing how much better the production team understood Tolkien and his thought, and what made it great, than Peter Jackson.  We find, for example, the show pointing out how forgiveness and mercy is necessary, and when it is resisted, it can lead to disastrous results (this theme is especially prevalent in the story of King Durin III and his son, During IV, as both of them are being rather stubborn, and in their stubbornness, they are unable to come together to deal with the problems which are beginning to happen in Khazad-dûm).

What I think is most compelling, and most sympathetic to Tolkien’s own concerns, is the way evil is being shown in the series; evil is not shown as something which is simple and easy to see and discern, but rather, as something which entices people with elements of the good and uses those elements to corrupt them and their actions (which can be seen in the way Sauron is being portrayed, as he is shown to have a great amount of charm, one capable of convincing people to do the things he wants them to do, things which ultimately would give him more power, allowing him to slowly become the Dark Lord over all things). Similarly, we see this in the presentation of the orcs, where they are shown not to be creatures of pure evil, something which Tolkien found difficult to portray and yet which he knew had to be the case; the show gives us a sense of what the orcs want, how Sauron tried to use their desires to gain control over them and use them, and how some rebelled against Sauron because they saw him and his attempt to dominate them would not give them the freedom, including freedom from war, which they wanted (and, despite the way some critics have responded to this, we can find elements of this in The Lord of the Rings, when the orcs are given a chance to speak for themselves, for they show how weary they are being used and how they long for the times when they were not being used to wage war in the world). Tolkien saw the orcs as being corrupted beings; how that corruption took place and the level of corruption they had was something he explored throughout all his life. We do not need to see The Rings of Power as giving definitive answers to those questions, but we can see it giving potential solution to them as it gives us its telling of the Second Age of Middle Earth.

The Rings of Power is becoming my favorite filmed representation of Middle Earth. I hope the care and effort which the producers and writers have shown us continues throughout the full run of the series. I have heard rumors which, if they prove true, would indicate a great departure from Tolkien and his works, in a way which I would find unacceptable (such as the notion that Tom Bombadil would be shown to be some sort of form of Morgoth). Most of those rumors, I think, are false, and have been spread by people who want to hurt the show because of the hate they have developed for it (I remember, before the show was in production, rumors which proved to be false, such as the show would be like Game of Thrones, full of nudity and sexuality, which is one of the reasons why I think the worst ideas will prove to be false).

I still have a fondness for Peter Jackson’s films, especially The Fellowship of the Ring but the writers behind The Rings of Power get the spirit of Tolkien, something which Jackson did not, and that bodes well for the future of the show. Yes, it is a television series, and yes, it is a retelling of Tolkien’s myths, and so it will do things which Tolkien would not have done with the story. However, I feel Tolkien would have approved the show far more than Jackson’s films. I think he would have been happy seeing his myths being taken up and retold by others, because that would have proved that his myths had taken a life of their own, and what he wanted to produce, a living myth, would have been accomplished. When we study myth, we find, even in the same culture, there are many tellings of the same story, tellings which contradict each other and yet, somehow, still connect with each other by the key events and themes contained in them. Tolkien understood this, which is why he would not complain the way some of his supposed fans do about the way The Rings of Power tells his stories differently than he did. Indeed, he would see the show tried to pick up his concerns and show ways to deal with them, such as the way he tried to understand the nature (and history) of the orcs.  Tolkien did not leave us one, unalterable text concerning the events portrayed in The Rings of Power. That is, the Second Age is not like the Third Age as presented in The Lord of the Rings. The Second Age is far more mythic, far more open to many tellings; indeed, because it is open for them, it allows his story to live on and be told and retold in new ways, making sure the story does not become forgotten as history moves on. Now, it truly is mythic, and people can pick up his stories and add to them, making sure they can  live on and be told and retold for many years to come.

 

*Personal Reflections And Speculations

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N.B.:  While I read comments to moderate them, I rarely respond to them. If I don’t respond to your comment directly, don’t assume I am unthankful for it. I appreciate it. But I want readers to feel free to ask questions, and hopefully, dialogue with each other. I have shared what I wanted to say, though some responses will get a brief reply by me, or, if I find it interesting and something I can engage fully, as the foundation for another post. I have had many posts inspired or improved upon thanks to my readers.

 

August 2, 2024

August 2, 2024 By
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Lawrence OP: Painting by Vittorio Carpaccio, conceived as a meditation on suffering, death, and resurrection. It hangs in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, NYC / flickr

By nature, if we are to use such a term for God, God is perfect. In accordance to that perfection, God is incapable of suffering. If God suffered, then, with such suffering,  there would be something less than perfect about God.  This is why there is nothing we can do to make God suffer. Indeed, God is eternal and in that eternity, unchangeable, and since God is by nature perfect and without suffering, there can be no change which would produce such suffering in God. Similarly, God is the source and foundation of all that is good, and in this way, as goodness is an eternal activity or uncreated energy of God, God can be said to be the Good. As suffering is evil, and God is the Good, there is no way God can suffer, for what God is, is good, and so suffering, if it were a part of God, would be good.

These, and other arguments, are used to explain why God  is said not to suffer; in relation to the divine nature, these arguments point us towards to the truth.  And yet, paradoxically, God is love, and in that love, God is not an absolute monad, but tri-personal. Each divine person represents that love to each other but also work together to establish a creation which they can and do love personally and collectively. Through their mutual and collective love for creation, each divine person, in their own way, looks to creation with compassion, sees what is happening in it, observes the suffering which has been brought to it because of sin, and seeks to restore the world back to its original integrity, one which is free from suffering. “You have heard of the steadfastness of Job, and you have seen the purpose of the Lord, how the Lord is compassionate and merciful” as James said (Jas. 5:11b RSV). But, as the word compassion means “to suffer together,” to talk about God’s compassion suggests there is a way which God “suffers with” those who are suffering, and in that regard, experiences suffering in and through them. This leads us to conclude there is a sense in which God can be said to suffer:

God is generous in His loving activities. He wishes to communicate Himself to mankind, to each of us, by his self-emptying love – a self-gift that moves to communion with His human creatures. But precisely because He is so immediately present and immanently inside each person, each creature, God can also “suffer.” He must also run the awesome risk of giving love and being rejected, at least by angels and human beings.[1]

We have come to a paradox where we conclude both God does not suffer, and yet, God can and will suffer with (and in) us. How is this possible? Recognizing this is a mystery which transcends our comprehension, we can leave it at that, however, we do not have to. We can seek to have a better understanding even as we accept that we will never be able to comprehend God. In doing so, we will find ourselves coming to apprehend more and more of the truth, and thorough such apprehensions, come to realize these antinomies deal with two different aspects of God. God is incapable of suffering because the divine nature is perfect and unchanging, but God is not just the divine nature, God is tri-personal, with each person interacting with each other and creation. It is in and through the divine persons God’s love is revealed, and so, in and through them we find God’s compassion being expressed. While, by nature, God can also be said to be love, the realization of that love is personal, and so, it is possible to consider God’s experience of suffering is personal, and not according to nature. If we look at it this way, we find the perfection and impassibility of the divine nature remains intact.

Through love, through the personal interactions with each other, and creation, we can perceive a pathos in God, a pathos which allows God to be compassionate and “pained” when creation suffers, especially when innocents are made to unjustly suffer at the hands of those who have power and authority in the world. This pathos is what motivated many of the prophets as they spoke out against social injustice, but it is also what is revealed to us in the incarnation.The God-man, Jesus, showed us this compassion, this love, this pathos in the way he showed love to those who were being mistreated, but also in the way he reacted to the death of his friend, Lazarus. Such suffering was personal, coming in and through the Logos’s human nature, but because the human nature is not other than the human nature of the divine Logos, God is shown to suffer in and through the suffering of the incarnate God-man (similar to the way God is born through the Virgin Mary).

In the incarnation, we find confirmation of what was indicated by the prophets: God has a pathos, a divine energy which comes from God’s divine nature and yet is distinct from it, so God in and through that pathos has compassion with creation, a compassion which allows God to suffer in and through creation. And in Jesus, the God-man, that pathos is united with creation itself. And, as James Cone explained, Jesus’s resurrection shows that God’s compassion, God’s pathos, is especially geared towards all who suffer injustice, seeking to help them, to lift them up, while also having those who have created such unjust suffering make restitution for what they have done:

The resurrection is God’s conquest of oppression and injustice, disclosing that the divine freedom revealed in Israel’s history is now available to all. The cross represents the particularity of divine suffering in Israel’s place. The resurrection is the universality of divine freedom for all who “labor and are heavy laden.” It is the actualization in history of Jesus’ eschatological vision that the last shall be first and  the first last. The resurrection means that God’s identity with the poor in Jesus is not limited to the particularity of his Jewishness but is applicable to all who fight on behalf of the liberation of humanity in this world. And the Risen Lord’s identification with the suffering poor today is just as real as was his presence with the outcasts in first-century Palestine. His presence with the poor today is not docetic; but like yesterday, today also he takes the pain of the poor upon himself and bears it for them.[2]

Suffering is an evil, but through compassion, those who willingly share in the suffering of others to help relieve them of such suffering, shows us that sometimes suffering can be transformed into a good, not because suffering is good, but because nothing is entirely evil, and the good contained in some evil act can be used to establish some greater good:

It is one of the mysteries of pain that it is, for the sufferer, an opportunity for good, a path of ascent however hard. But it remains an ‘evil’, and it must dismay any conscience to have caused it carelessly, or in excess, let alone wilfully.[3]

While suffering can be transformed and used for the good, we should always realize suffering is an evil which should never be desired. Suffering does not exist in the divine nature, in the absolute Good of God, because it is an evil. However, because the persons of God love us, each of them can, in their own way, embrace us in our suffering, and we can apprehend this in the way each of  them relate to us in and through the incarnation and the God-man’s suffering on the cross:

And in the incarnation we find the co-participation of all three hypostases, each in its own manner: The Father sends the Son, and this sending is an act of fatherly sacrificial love, the kenosis of the Father, who condemns to the cross the beloved Son, who takes on himself this feat on the cross. The feast of the Son is also the self-denying love of the Father who, in “sending” the Son, condemns his very Self to co-suffering and co-crucifixion, though in a manner different than the Son. Because there is the God-man’s passion on the cross, there is also the fatherly passion on the cross, the passion of co-suffering love, of fatherly self-crucifixion. We must understand the “sending” of the Son by the Father not as an act of authority, as a command, but rather as an act of agreement, initiative, origination, all of which are hypostatically proper to the Father. [4]

Each person of the Trinity share with us our  suffering, each in their own unique way. In their compassion, they take on our suffering and transform it, so that through it, some greater good can be established as the evil of suffering is brought to an end. Understanding this should help us take on the paradox of suffering and its relationship with God, to see there is a way for God to be free from suffering while still taking it on and experiencing suffering through compassionate love. Such compassion does not undermine the divine nature and its impassibility, but rather, shows us its transcendent perfection. When we understand the truth of this, we will also be able to better understand the distinction between the divine nature and God’s uncreated energies, as well as the difference between the persons of the Trinity. For it is only as an absolute monad without even relative distinctions that we find it impossible to perceive of a way to move beyond the paradox and accept both that God cannot suffer and yet, God, in God’s omnipotent love, can and does suffer with us.

[1] George Maloney, SJ, God’s Exploding Love (New York: Alba House. 1987), 118.

[2] James H. Cone, God Of The Oppressed (New York: Seabury Press 1975), 135.

[3] J.R.R. Tolkien, The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien. Revised and Expanded Edition. Ed. Humphrey Carpenter and Christopher Tolkien (Broadway, NY: William Morrow, 2023), 180 [Letter 113 to C.S. Lewis].

[4] Sergius Bulgakov, “The Sophiology of Death ” in The Sophiology of Death. Essays on Eschatology: Personal, Political, Universal. Trans. Roberto J. De La Noval (Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2021), 125.

 

 

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N.B.:  While I read comments to moderate them, I rarely respond to them. If I don’t respond to your comment directly, don’t assume I am unthankful for it. I appreciate it. But I want readers to feel free to ask questions, and hopefully, dialogue with each other. I have shared what I wanted to say, though some responses will get a brief reply by me, or, if I find it interesting and something I can engage fully, as the foundation for another post. I have had many posts inspired or improved upon thanks to my readers.

July 10, 2024

July 10, 2024 By
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Microbiz Mag: Man Writing / Wikimedia Commons

In the introduction to the book I am currently reading, Prayer of the Heart, the author, Fr. George Maloney, a writer I greatly respect for his knowledge and wisdom, wrote something which I found to be greatly mistaken:

Only a human person, of all God’s material creatures, has the ability to stand on the mountaintop of his or her consciousness and ask the why and where of human existence. Why have I been created? Where is my life going? Where should it be going? How can I find purpose in my life?

The notion that humanity is the only material creature, the only animal, which can and will ask these, and other similar, questions, is one which many believe. It is an assumption which many Christians accept without question. I  am not one of them. I have grown to question it, even if many of my favorite theological and spiritual writers tend to accept it as a given and through it, produce  extremely anthropocentric theological system. When they do so, I tend to deconstruct those systems and take the good from them while casting aside what I believe to be false. Indeed, while there are exceptions to the rule, they represent what has become the Christian norm, and those who support this norm often try to base it on their reading of Scripture, a reading which does not always follow as they think it does. For, as they point out, Scripture says humanity was made in God’s image and likeness; this certainly is true, and all Christians should hold that belief; nonetheless, the problem is how they turn that statement into something which Scripture does not say, that is, only humanity is made in God’s image and likes. They add “only” to a text which does not say only, similar to the way some have come to read Paul as saying “faith alone” is what saves, even though Paul never said “alone.”

While, it must be acknowledged, many in Christian tradition believe only humanity is made in God’s image and likeness, it is clear they are being influenced by their own cultural background, their own cultural understanding of other forms of animal life,  one which had a limited understanding of the potentiality found in such other forms of animal life. That is, as all of us do, they engaged Scripture based upon factors outside of Scripture, factors which can be and should be reformed. But once they did this, then they took their belief and used it in the way they read or engaged science, creating a never-ending circle based upon a bad hermeneutical foundation, one which led them to believe many qualities associated with humanity, such as its intellect, come from the way they represent God and so is exclusive to humanity.

Scientifically, there seems to be a variety of intellectual potentials found throughout the range of animal life (and possibly, not just animals). Some animals have greater intellectual capabilities than others. Some demonstrate conscious awareness of death and act upon in in ways which prove that humanity is not alone in the way it engages death. We can see this in various species closely related to humanity, like Neanderthals, but also in others, like elephants, who seem to have rituals connected with death, or with other animals which clearly are in mourning when they lose a loved one (as many of those who inherited a pet from a loved one has likely observed).  To be sure, not all animals show the same level awareness, suggesting that, as with the intellect itself, we are likely dealing with a spectrum of potentiality, with some much more aware, much more affected by death than others. Of course, we can appreciate and understand those animals which act in ways similar to us much more easily than those which act in ways quite a bit different from us, and so we might be misreading those who are different: they might have ways we cannot appreciate or understand that for them represent their own engagement with death.  It is also possible that some animals truly have little to no understanding of death beyond the instinct for survival. What we should not do is use those we cannot understand and use them to suggest the conclusion that only humans have the ability to think about and ponder about life and death.

Nonetheless, though science suggests one thing, and much of Christian tradition suggests another, once again, it is clear, many do not want to reform Christian tradition to take in what science has revealed. They think it takes away what makes humanity special, and  indeed, this is a part of the problem: people want to feel they are special – special as individuals, as communities, and as a species, and so they try to find ways to prove they are not only special, but superior to others. That is, pride is at work in the way they look out into the world. And it such pride which has them turn various qualities they possess into exclusive ones, for by doing so, their pride validates itself.  This tendency seems to be a byproduct of the fall, that is, it is the type of egotism which the fall generates, one which seeks to divide up creation so as to make one part of it better than others, and then, having made it better, justify whatever it does to the others, even if it means destroying that which is deemed inferior. That is, sin has us divide up creation so we can join in its destruction of being. Individualism, racism, nationalism, and even religious fundamentalism, all come as a result of this tendency. They are all opposed to the way of Christ because Christ has shown us that the distinctions found in creation are not meant to serve as qualities which divide creation into distinct parts cut off from each other, or fighting each other, but rather as parts which are interdependent with each other and come together as one. This is why it is said in Christ there is to be  neither male nor female, Jew or Gentile, not because those qualities do not take place, but because those qualities and distinctions are not absolutes; while sin divides up creation through them, Christ finds a way to bridge everything together, to make them one, even as God is one.

This is not to say there are no distinctions to be found in the world. It’s not distinctions which are in question, but how they are understood and applied, which is problematic. Distinctions are not meant to be absolutes, separating those which are distinct from each other, but rather, are to serve as the way we establish how different people and things can exist in relation with each other. That relationship is important. It shows they are not independent but rather interdependent. Those persons and things, those objects which serve as the basis for such relationships, will have qualities which make each of them unique, qualities which emerge and come to be as a result of those relationships. For Christians, the Trinity should help them better understand this point, for in it, we have a plurality of persons, each unique in their own way, and yet each connected with and full equal with every other one, showing us  uniqueness does not have to be seen as representing an essential difference, nor as making one or another better than another.  This should help us better understand humanity and our place in creation. We can accept there is something unique about humanity while not using it to produce a cosmological understanding that makes humanity special or greater than all other material beings.

It can be said that one of the distinctions given to humanity, one of the things which made it unique, is that the incarnation took place with it, that is, God took on human nature and through it, become a man, Jesus Christ. Because distinctions come from and through relationships, this distinction should not be used to suggest the incarnation is only for the sake of humanity, but rather, it is the means, the relational center, God uses to bring salvation to all creation. Thus, humanity can be said to be unique because of the incarnation, and not because it has exclusive claims to possessing an intellect, self-consciousness, or awareness of death.

Yes, I know some of my argument could be used against me, that is, because we cannot and do not know what is going on in the consciousness of other animal species, I could be wrong in suggesting that they have some level of self-awareness and even an understanding of death. While, for some animals, this might be true, we have found the means to observe and  learn from others that they have some understanding about death and have rituals associated with it. Perhaps some species have that awareness, and others do not. Perhaps. But to say such an ability is exclusive to us I think can be shown to be wrong. I would also say the instincts most animals have in regards self-preservation (or those who look for and take care of their own youth, with a willingness to sacrifice themselves so that their children can survive) demonstrate that they all have some awareness of death, even if it is not the same kind we have. And if this is true with death, this can also be true with other concepts; animals are going to want to understand, at least in regards their potential, their own origin, why they exist, and indeed, the meaning of it all. This is not to say they will do so in the same degree, but then again, not all humans do so either. But, for me, the way I read the interactions of many saints with animals suggests that they had come to know and recognize some of these qualities with the animals they associated with, even those science has less ability to examine and understand, showing that the Christian tradition, in action, often transcended the notions which were handed down from generation to generation. I see this, for example, when St. Anthony of Padua preached to the fish: he had them celebrate and worship God, indicating he thought they had some sort of concept which they could and would use about God and their creation, and the way they responded to him, suggests he was right. I see similar stories with many other saints, including favorites like St. Antony the Great, St. Jerome, St. Francis of Assisi, and St. Seraphim of Sarov, each which are known to have encounters with animals which highlight such animals had some sort of understanding of God and praised God when asked to do so.

Just as many Christians have begun to understand salvation in a pluralistic, inclusivistic sense, so I think we must begin to explore creation with such a sense as well. We should stop looking at humanity, believing many of the qualities we associate with it are exclusive to it. Indeed, we should truly embrace pluralistic inclusivity as a hermeneutic for our engagement with others, be it other people, or other forms of life, for then, if we do so, we will find our actions will be transformed and made better, as we will better realize our ethical and moral obligations to the other. We will have cut out the way of thinking which leads us to think we can ignore them because we view them as different, and therefore, our inferiors. Then, we will find ourselves truly following the way of Christ, because we will no longer allow sin to lead us on to divide up the world and justify destroying that which we find to be different. Rather, we will see difference does not need to lead to absolute division, but rather, serve as the foundation for a new way of looking at things, where we realize our interdependence with everything, and therefore, the need to work together so that we lift everyone else up due to our relations with them instead of putting them down and excusing their destruction.

 

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N.B.:  While I read comments to moderate them, I rarely respond to them. If I don’t respond to your comment directly, don’t assume I am unthankful for it. I appreciate it. But I want readers to feel free to ask questions, and hopefully, dialogue with each other. I have shared what I wanted to say, though some responses will get a brief reply by me, or, if I find it interesting and something I can engage fully, as the foundation for another post. I have had many posts inspired or improved upon thanks to my readers.

July 4, 2024

July 4, 2024 By
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Microbiz Mag: Man Writing / Wikimedia Commons

I’m an avid reader. I love to read (but, like most things, how great that love is waxes and wanes, as sometimes I read something which completely enchants me and I can’t wait to read more, and at other times, I find what I am reading not so exciting, making it difficult to reading, that is, when I think there is a good reason to do so).

I try to read at least an hour every day. I consider doing so to be similar to physical exercise, but instead of focusing on my body, I am engaging my mind. Some days I meet my goal, some days I read quite a bit more, and other days, when life gets in the way, I read much less I desire.

While I read a great variety of texts, there are some types which I read more often than others: theology, spirituality, philosophy, history, science fiction, fantasy, and important, influential works of world literature. I try to alternate what I read, especially if and when I find myself reading too much from a single author or genre, just as I alternate the physical exercise I do every day. This helps keep my mind sharp even as it makes sure I do not get stuck in my reading habits, ignoring texts which I would otherwise find invaluable or at least entertaining if I turned to them. Indeed, when I find my reading becomes repetitive, such as when I read too much from a given author or genre, I find my enthusiasm for reading begins to wane. That is when I need something radically different to read, something which, in its newness, helps revitalize my love for reading. After engaging such a novelty, I find it easier to engage the kinds of texts I normally read.

Writing my blog helps me integrate what I have read and learned to what I had previously come to know and understand; that is, I often use the texts I have most recently read as an inspiration for my writing, engaging what I read so that I can better understand and appreciate its significance for myself.  This is not to say everything I write about is based upon what I have most recently read: usually, one blog post a week reflects my current reading (if it is relevant), another post reflects the liturgical week and the readings used for the Sunday Divine Liturgy, another engages and reflects upon the news of the week, and then, the final post either deals with concerns I have seen being raised by Catholics during the week, or I try reflect upon the spirituality of the desert fathers and mothers, trying to find a way to make their wisdom and thought relevant today. In doing this, I write for my own benefit, but also, for the benefit of others, hoping that what comes about through my studies and reflections will help others just as much as it does myself.

I do not want my blog to only serve myself and my own particular idiosyncrasies. I try to make my blog a place where I can encounter others, and they can encounter me. I do not always respond to comments, but I read them, thinking about what they say and if there is something I should say in response, either in a comment, or in a future blog post. I try to use my blog as a place where I can engage others, and others engage me. For that to be possible, everyone needs to be honest. If I detect someone trying to simply debate, or worse, respond in some deceptive manner (such as trying to gaslight me or one of my readers), I disengage from that conversation. We should always be concerned about each other, showing  each other love and respect, treating each other as we would like to be treated. This includes being willing to open up and expose ourselves in some fashion or another, that is, to be willing to reveal our thoughts and beliefs, so that others can then respond to us in kind, and in doing so, we come to know, not just our thoughts and beliefs, but some of the hopes and dreams and of the people we engage. I want us to have a fruitful encounter with each other where we engage each other as persons and not as mere individuals who have no way to connect or help each other. But, if we are to help each other in this way, we should always make sure we are not being hypocrites, addressing others, telling them what to do without being critical with ourselves, which is why I constantly tell people, much of my writing is as much as for myself as others. It is my hope that my reflections can help us grow together; if this happens, or rather, when it happens, I believe my work has been successful, and when it does not, then I know there is more which needs to be said and done.

To help make this happen, when I read, I write down quotes which I find interesting and important. Some of them confirm what I already believe. Some of them complement and expand my thoughts. Some of them challenge them. Others represent ways authors I am reading, often authors I like or appreciate, go astray or err. The last type of quote is important because it helps me to be critically engaged with what I read, not taking what I read for granted. It reminds me that even those who are intelligent, full of knowledge and wisdom, are people with biases and prejudices which get in the way of their thinking.  Many of my favorite authors have made some great, indeed, grave mistakes, and yet, they are among my favorites because where they went right, they said and did something extraordinary, something which amazes me, and so something which influences me and my thoughts. And then, when I think about them and how they went astray, I know the same can and should be said about myself, that is, if the best among us can embrace some grave errs, it is likely I am doing so myself, in ways which I might not ever recognize.

To be sure, what I have written here might seem to suggest that my reading is done purely for study, or some utilitarian use. While that is often involved, it is not the whole of it. Much of my reading is done for the pleasure of it, that is, because I am entertained by what I read. I do not take notes on everything I read, especially if and when I find such notes would become repetitive, or worse, interfere with my enjoyment of the text in question. This is one of many reasons why I like to read fiction, especially genre fiction. It helps me read more for the sake of pleasure than for anything else. This is not to say such reading only serves meaningless entertainment, as, of course, the works not only entertain us, but they also makes us look at and examine the world in new ways. This is why I like to read the works of J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, Philip K. Dick, Frank Herbert, Ursula K. Le Guin, Shirley Jackson, and H.P. Lovecraft (and others like them): they knew how to write to entertain their audience, and yet, in and with that entertainment, there are many issues which are raised, issues which can and should be addressed by everyone, issues which often become addressed either directly or indirectly when I come to write for my blog. For, even when I am being entertained, my mind still asks questions, questions which ultimately will be reflected upon in what I write.

 

 

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N.B.:  While I read comments to moderate them, I rarely respond to them. If I don’t respond to your comment directly, don’t assume I am unthankful for it. I appreciate it. But I want readers to feel free to ask questions, and hopefully, dialogue with each other. I have shared what I wanted to say, though some responses will get a brief reply by me, or, if I find it interesting and something I can engage fully, as the foundation for another post. I have had many posts inspired or improved upon thanks to my readers.

 

May 31, 2024

May 31, 2024 By
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No photographer listed: Saint In Cave / pxhere

We have many stories, some more famous than others, in which saints encounter and slay dragons, with St. George being the most well-known of them all.  Most of these stories should be understood to be legendary, that is, not to be entirely historical; while there might be some historical basis behind them, that historical core is used to construct a legend which engages mythic, not historical dimensions. Then, through the mythic presentation of the event, symbols are used to present various theological truths. We do not have to believe that there was a literal dragon which was slain by George. Instead, dragons tend to represent Satan and other demonic entities which the saints overcome.

Nonetheless, there are other stories of saints which have dragons in them, stories which are much more historically based, and the dragon does not represent a symbol, but some animal which the saint encountered and engaged, an animal which we know by another name, such as a crocodile. In such stories, the saints, far from being hostile to the dragon in question, often found a way to be in harmony with them instead of seeking to destroy or harm them. That is, in these stories, we are shown the way humanity is meant to be in harmony with the rest of nature, including and especially, those creatures which are often seen as potentially being a threat. An example of this can be found in a story concerning Abba Agathon:

It is said of Abba Agathon that at one time he lived in a cave in the desert in which there was a large dragon. The serpent decided to go away and live him. Abba Agathon said to it, ‘If you leave, I am not saying here,’ so the serpent decided not to leave. Now there was a sycamore-fig in that desert. It was their custom to go out together. Abba Agathon marked a line in the sycamore and divided the tree with the serpent: the serpent would eat the fruit from one side of the sycamore while the elder ate from the other. When they had finished eating, they wet back into the cave, both of them together.[1]

Abba Agathon was a highly respected ascetic, who, even when he was young, was recognized for his holiness and was designated as an Abba by Abba Poemen, his mentor. It was due to his holiness that he looked to create peace within himself, but also with the world at large, a peace which allowed him to form relationships not only with other humans, but with animals. When he took residence in the cave, it is understandable that whatever type of animal was living in it, designated as a dragon, might have wanted to leave and find a new place to live. Animals, after all, often flee from human habitation.

Agathon did not want to impose himself on the dragon’s habitat and cause the creature to needlessly suffer, and so found a way to show it that they could live in harmony, sharing the fruit of the land with each other. As long as he lived in the cave, they were companions, with Agathon making sure he did not become a burden to the dragon. Once again, as with many such stories, we are shown the kind of harmony God wants humanity to have with animals. They are not supposed to be in rivalry with each other, but rather, they are meant to share the world together without adversely affecting each other. Humanity was meant to take in the lead of this, to act as stewards over creation, but due to the fall, humanity has failed to follow its calling, leading to various kinds of hostility between humans and the animals around them. Many stories of the saints are meant to show us the way humanity was meant to be, as they become more and more pure, and through that purity, restore their proper relationship with the world at large. Then, like Agathon, they not only find themselves in harmony with whatever animals they meet, they make sure they are of service to those animals as well.

Christians should look to the examples of those saints who show the kind of harmony that could exist between humanity and animals, saints like St. Francis of Assisi, St. Seraphim of Sarov, and St. Agathon, so that they can be encouraged by these stories to do what God desires them to do. Sadly, throughout Christian history, Christians have done the opposite, showing an extreme lack of concern for the world they live in. They think they can ignore their calling and exploit the earth because the world is going to come to an end, and so what they do does not matter. This is an anti-Christian, that is, Gnostic, sentiment, encouraging Christians to dishonor God and God’s intention for the earth, as they end up continuing the way of fallen humanity and its destructive, nihilistic way of being.

We must truly embrace all life, not just human life, and that means we must be respectful of the environment and its needs, taking care of all life on the earth:

To be life-centered is to be respectful both of life and environment. As a way of looking at the world, biocentrism is an antidote to that human-centeredness that sees humans as the measure of all things and that believes humans, and humans alone, are worthy of our moral regard. Inasmuch as human beings are members of the family of terrestrial life, and perhaps even its most precious members, life-centeredness involves a deep and abiding commitment to their wellbeing. [2]

Sadly, many Christians have come to believe only humanity is important. They follow,  as Laura Hobgood-Oster said, a kind of narcissism, one which has been extremely prevalent the last few centuries:

Yet in the last several hundred years Christianity has been hesitant, at times, to include animals in either its ethical or its theological systems. Without addressing the issue of “the animal,” Christianity not only lives in a potentially dangerous bubble, but it risks becoming increasingly narcissistic and marginal to the world as we know it, and as we are making it. [3]

It is time to move beyond that narcissism and learn from Agathon, learn how to be good stewards of the earth, taking care not only of ourselves, but all life, realizing the good, indeed, the dignity found in all life. Agathon was able to dialogue with and come to agreements with the dragon, and other saints were known to make similar pacts with animals. If we try, we can do likewise, making relationships with all creatures. When we do so, we will find ourselves, as well as those animals we related to, made better, even as we will provide another example of the inherent dignity of all life in this fashion. But if we do not, if we try to selfishly look after ourselves alone, we will find, as with all such selfishness, we will get the opposite of what we seek, as we will fall further and further from grace , and risk creating, if  we are not careful, our own private little hell.

[1] More Sayings of the Desert Fathers. An English Translation And Notes. Ed. John Wortley (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2019; repr. 2023),  119 [“Sayings Preserved in Coptic”: C2].

[2] Jay B. McDaniel, Of God and Pelicans: A Theology of Reverence For Life (Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1989), 14.

[3] Laura Hobgood-Oster, The Friends We Keep: Unleashing Christianity’s Compassion for Animals  (Waco, Texas: Baylor University Press, 2010), 6.

 

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N.B.:  While I read comments to moderate them, I rarely respond to them. If I don’t respond to your comment directly, don’t assume I am unthankful for it. I appreciate it. But I want readers to feel free to ask questions, and hopefully, dialogue with each other. I have shared what I wanted to say, though some responses will get a brief reply by me, or, if I find it interesting and something I can engage fully, as the foundation for another post. I have had many posts inspired or improved upon thanks to my readers.

April 30, 2024

April 30, 2024 By
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Dmitry Boyarin: Worship In Eastern Orthodox Church / Wikimedia Commons

Tolkien mentioned that those who believe in a personal God find themselves drawn to God with a desire to honor and worship their Creator above the way they honor anyone and anything else:

Those who believe in a personal God, Creator, do not think the Universe is in itself worshipful, though devoted study of it may be one of the ways of honouring Him. And while as living creatures we are (in part) within it and part of it, our ideas of God and ways of expressing them will be largely derived from contemplating the world about us. (Though there is also revelation both addressed to all men and to particular persons.) [1]

We are drawn to God because God is love, indeed, transcendent love. The more we see the love of God in action, the more we will perceive God’s greatness, and that greatness will awe us, make us sit back and contemplate what perceive. This, however, is not just true for God. We find it is true in our relationships with others. They often enchant us by their good qualities, and we, in response, often think about them, indeed, praise them one way or another, because of the way their greatness inspires us. Thus, there is something natural about the desire we have to honor those who make us feel great, which is why we end up praising God when we apprehend God’s greatness.

There are many ways we can and will fulfill our desire to praise and worship God, not just the way many of us have grown accustomed to thinking, that is, by prayer, private or communal (such as at a liturgical service). We must not constrain our reaction to God and God’s love. We must embrace God and honor God in a variety of ways, not just one. as Blessed Theodoret of Cyrus, commenting upon Paul’s letters, explained, “There are many forms of worship: the one who prays worships God, as does the one who fasts, the one who heeds the divine sayings, and of course also the one who cares for strangers.”[2]

Each time we follow the way of love, engaging others through such love, we find ourselves honoring God, and so giving our creator the worship which God desires from us. What we do out of such love, like taking care of strangers (migrants, for example), or those who are poor and needy, must be seen as an act of worship, often a kind which is greater than simple prayer, for God has revealed to us that the divine heart lies with the poor and needy. And if this is worship, it can be said that acts which run contrary to such love, such as denying strangers or the poor of the care they need, is an affront to God, making it a kind of blasphemy.

Working to counteract any inordinate passions which would lead us to act unjustly, that is, engaging various forms of self-discipline like fasting, if that self-discipline is geared to purify our will so that we can better embrace the way of love, likewise can be seen as a way for us to worship and honor God. This is because we are trying to align ourselves with God, honoring and working for the same goals God has for creation. When we study to learn the ways of God, doing so to come to know God better, and acting upon what we learn, once again, we can be said to be honoring God, and so engaging God in an act of worship; the same, is true, when doing theological reflection, where we try to understand better what we have apprehended and share with others what we have discerned so that we can all come to know and love God that much more than we did before we did so.

We are to love God with all our heart. Of course, as sin has contaminated us, so our love will often be imperfect, but it is better to offer imperfect worship, to try to act out of love, than to give up on all attempts to do so. “He prefers to be worshiped in whatever way, even incompetently, provided it is in keeping with human nature, than not to be worshiped at all out of pride.” [3] We will likely find our love grows stronger the more we exercise it, which is why an imperfect love, such as found in imperfect contrition, can and will be effective and our worship, however mixed it is, can be pleasing to God, so long as the love which is there is real and we are trying to nurture it instead of strangling it in our lives.  And one of the ways we do that is to do what we can to work for the benefit of our neighbor, for the more we do that, the more we will form the habits of love which can and then will overcome the habits of sin, even as imperfect contrition will be able to grow to perfect contrition, leading to the purification of the soul from all sin.

Love draws us in to God. We should do what we can to develop our love, for by doing so, we will find ourselves living our lives the way God intended us to live them out. The more we love, the more we will honor God, because God is love, which is why we should seek to develop our relationship with each other in such a way that love is the foundation of our engagements. “Let the soul remember that she owes her first love to God and her second to her neighbor, and that all her affections must be directed by this rule, that she should not withdraw from the worship of the Lord nor from the usefulness to the fellow servant.” [4]  We should understand that we can and will embrace various forms of worship every day we live, because there will be many ways we can and will express our love. What undermines the will of God, what undermines the love which we should have, undermines and corrupts our worship. Sin, being unlove, resists proper worship, though it can and will try to replace the worship based upon love with worship which is legalistic and show, to make us believe we are holy for following legalistic expectations when, in reality, as we do so without love, we are only engaging the simulacra of worship. Nonetheless where love remains, there remains hope, hope that the love will grow, and all that is sin is cast off, so that in the end, there is hope that love, not sin, is victorious, and with it, we will come to know God by the way we have come to know love, not by study, not through theological speculation, but by experience.

[1] J.R.R. Tolkien, The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien. Revised and Expanded Edition. Ed. Humphrey Carpenter and Christopher Tolkien (Broadway, NY: William Morrow, 2023), 562 [Letter 310 to Camilla Unwin].

[2] Theodoret of Cyrus, Commentary on the Letters of St. Paul. Volume One. Trans. Robert Charles Hill (Brookline, MA: Holy Cross Orthodox Press, 2001), 47-8 [Romans].

[3] Marsilio Ficino, On the Christian Religion. Trans. Dan Attrell, Brett Bartlett, and David Porreca (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2022), 54

[4] St Leo the Great, Sermons. Trans. Jane Patricia Freeland CSJB and Agnes Josephine Conway SSJ (Washington, DC: CUA Press, 1996), 71 [Sermon 19].

 

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N.B.:  While I read comments to moderate them, I rarely respond to them. If I don’t respond to your comment directly, don’t assume I am unthankful for it. I appreciate it. But I want readers to feel free to ask questions, and hopefully, dialogue with each other. I have shared what I wanted to say, though some responses will get a brief reply by me, or, if I find it interesting and something I can engage fully, as the foundation for another post. I have had many posts inspired or improved upon thanks to my readers.

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