A Catholic-themed opinion blog about various topics, including theology, philosophy, politics and culture, from a Thomistic perspective.

Sunday, December 13, 2020

The End of Man: Hilaire Belloc's Vision of Christendom

    Europe and the Faith is a work of historical analysis by the Catholic Anglo-Norman scholar Hilaire Belloc (1870-1953). Belloc, a prolific writer of more than 150 books and articles, composed a wide variety of works during his career, from comedic children’s fables to travelogues, but his primary interest was history. As a devout Catholic, he traced and interpreted the role of the Catholic Church in the history of Europe and the corresponding influence of European history on the Catholic Church. While each of his historical works endeavors toward this purpose, most focused on a specific episode of European history. Europe and the Faith, meanwhile, is at once a broader and more penetrating treatment of the role of the Catholic Church in European history more generally, and as such it can be seen as a foundational guide for all of Belloc’s histories.

    Like his Catholic friend and contemporary G.K. Chesterton, Belloc wrote to address the many social and spiritual problems of his day, including political and economic oppression, spiritual confusion, and intercultural strife. Unlike his other contemporary H.G. Wells, Belloc identified the ills of his time as deriving from the Protestant Reformation in the sixteenth century and the destruction of the unity of Catholic Christendom which resulted from it. Writing in 1920, Europe and the Faith came after the chaos of the First World War and yet prophetically pointed forward to the Second. In this way Belloc addressed the questions and concerns of those for whom WWI was a close memory, who were searching for reasons why such a thing could have happened and what could be done to prevent it in the future.

    The overall theme of Europe and the Faith can be summed up in the last three sentences of the book, which Belloc repeats as both a principle and warning throughout it: “Europe will return to the Faith, or she will perish. The Faith is Europe. And Europe is the Faith.”[1] While Belloc identifies the roots of European civilization in the unity of the Roman Empire, and recognizes the origins of the Catholic Church as a new Covenant extending from the Hebrew religion and culture of Israel, he also explains that Europe can only be understood as a fusion of the secular universality of Rome and the spiritual universality of the Catholic Church, this fusion having begun when both the Roman Empire and the Church began almost simultaneously in the first century AD.

    In contrast to the wide variety of mystery cults and vague philosophic positions all around them, ancient Romans came to see the Catholic Church as the only source of the stability, courage and self-sacrifice that result from the certainty of faith, “filled, as was no other body of men at that time, with passionate conviction.”[2] This, alongside the great virtue and charity exhibited almost exclusively by Christians they encountered, soon led to the official legitimation of the Church and finally its declaration as the official religion of Rome. Belloc then identifies the source of modern problems as the result of the destruction of this unity by the Reformation and the fragmentation of that holistic integrity of the human person achieved by Christendom, and with a return to this unity as the only remedy for our discontent.

    To explain his overarching premise, Belloc carefully traces the history of this fusion of Rome and the Catholic Church during the centuries of the Roman Empire. He first explains the fact that Rome was not a modern nation-state, nor was it chiefly concerned with racial, cultural or even religious distinctions. Rather, Rome differentiated itself from those outside its borders by its dedication to the ideals of civilization, to living in an orderly and rational society preserved through force of law and the prosperity it engenders. Contrary to most histories taught both in Belloc’s time and today, he clarifies that the so-called fall of the Roman Empire was not so much a disintegration as a slow weakening of the central authority of the Empire and a gradual transformation into the social structures of medieval Europe. He sees a definitive continuity of Roman civilization despite these changes. Rather than the popular image of barbarian hordes invading Rome and conquering it, Belloc shows that “[t]here was no conquest of effete Mediterranean peoples by vigorous barbarians.”[3] The ‘barbarians’ outside the borders of Rome longed to be part of its civilization and this was the primary motivation for their raids, which were always and everywhere put down swiftly by the Roman legions.

    Like Rome itself, conflicts in the Church were primarily internal rather than external, resulting from various heresies. The Arian heresy, for example, “the old court heresy which was offensive to the poorer mass of Europeans”,[4] threatened to fracture the patristic Church, until the enlistment of the pagan Franks of northern France by the Pope. The Franks readily converted to the Roman way, including its civilization and its Catholicism which were by this time indistinguishable, and went on to eradicate the Arian influence from Roman society, just as the Pope fought against the Arianism within the Church itself. As Rome transformed into medieval Europe, this format became the standard for addressing internal European conflicts. Over time, as the Emperor, removed from the life of western Europe by its transmission to the East, lost its traditional role as the unifier of society, the authorities put into power formerly by the Emperor throughout the West came to possess their own kingdoms alongside the descendants of landed Roman aristocrats.  

    The hierarchical nature of society, with lower officials of serfs, knights, lords and kings, holding their superiors accountable to feudal oaths, just as the bishops and popes of the Church held all accountable to Catholic doctrine, brought an impenetrable unity and power to Europe which enabled them to combat the overwhelming assaults of Norse, Germanic, Slavic and Islamic incursions throughout what Belloc calls the ‘Dark Ages’, approx. 600-1000 AD. Although culture largely stagnated during this dark time, when conservation and defense expended all the energies of the West, “the Catholic Faith became between the years 600 and 1000 utterly one with Europe.”[5] By the efforts of the Normans and Pope Gregory the Great, by 1000 AD medieval Christendom became what Belloc identifies as “a civilization which was undoubtedly the highest and the best our race has known, conformable to the instincts of the European, fulfilling his nature, giving him that happiness which is the end of men.”[6] Even more than ancient Rome, Catholic Europe united people to a far greater degree precisely because the unity was primarily spiritual. The Pope was both the secular and spiritual leader of Europe; all issues could be resolved by his authority, and by his guidance absolutism and heresy were prevented.

    The unity of Christendom was dissolved in the Reformation primarily through the rejection of the universal fatherhood of the Pope who, with the clerical authorities in general, were ultimately too slow “to capture the spiritual discontent, and to satisfy the spiritual hunger of which these errors were the manifestation.”[7] Though the reformers initially saw Europe as a united whole and desired to change it as such, relativism and the fragmentation of the human person, of reason from faith, of power from authority, of the spiritual from the material, fused with the sixteenth century worship of absolute government to finally destroy Christendom in the seventeenth century. As Belloc explains, however, this could not have been accomplished without the Defection of Britain, the only Roman province to become Protestant. “[T]he prime product of the Reformation was the isolation of the soul”:[8] from then on, the West has fluctuated from one idol to the next, searching for fulfillment in technological power, advanced knowledge, wealth, absolute government, and sensual pleasure. Without the mediation of the Pope, tyranny, slavery, genocide, and world wars politically reflected the miasma of confusion and despair permeating European society.

    After reading Belloc’s masterpiece of history, the true nature of Europe became clearer to me. The essential fusion of Rome and the Catholic Church, the gradual evolution of Rome into medieval Christendom, the growth of Protestantism primarily in European countries which were only lately brought into Christendom, and the supreme importance of the Defection of Britain in the destruction of Christendom and making Protestantism an official international movement were all new concepts to me. These truths are, as he explains, lost on those who study European history without the Catholic worldview which is necessary to truly understand it, since “The Faith is Europe. And Europe is the Faith.”[9]



[1] Hilaire Belloc, Europe and the Faith (London: Black House Publishing, 2012), 245.

[3] Belloc, Europe, 100.

[4] Belloc, Europe, 135.

[5] Belloc, Europe, 187.

[6] Belloc, Europe, 191-192.

[7] Belloc, Europe, 208.

[8] Belloc, Europe, 238.

[9] Belloc, Europe, 245.

Sunday, March 5, 2017

Meditations on the Sorrowful Mysteries of the Rosary: Part One

The First Sorrowful Mystery: The Agony in the Garden


The thought of our sins and His coming suffering causes the agonizing Savior to sweat blood. (Luke 22:39-44)

Imagine a time in your life when you did something you regret. Not just a mistake or some unintentional accident. No, remember an instance when you made a wrong decision. It could be a time when you were hasty to judge someone, or when you responded in anger undeserved, or when you gave in to lust or doubt or pride. Call that time to mind; remember where you were, who you were with. Try to remember how you felt.

How many times has this happened and you regretted it not only after, but before and even while doing it? How many times did it seem as if you were telling yourself, "you know better than this; just don't do it!"? But you did it anyways, and then the guilt washed over you and you had to make amends.

All of us go through these difficult situations, these challenges to our conscience, on a daily basis. And very often, when we're about to do something wrong, when we're in the grip of temptation, we feel not only the pressure, the agony of our own body and soul urging us to do what we know to be wrong - we also feel alone. We feel utterly isolated from the world, from ourselves, and even from God. How could God possibly be with us when we are so engulfed by sin? How could He know what it's like?

For we have not a high priest, who can not have compassion on our infirmities: but one tempted in all things like as we are, without sin. (Hebrews 4:15 DRA)

In fact, God knows exactly what we're going through. When Our Lord was tempted in the Garden of Gethsemane before He was arrested and Crucified, He endured precisely what we endure every time we are tempted. He felt the pressure, the drive to sin as we do. Even though he lacked the desire to sin, He still felt it just as we do, as well as the seductions of the Devil, as we often do when we are tempted.

Truly, He felt it even more, since as God, He felt not only His temptations at that moment, but all temptation through time, just as he felt the weight of all sin and death on the Cross. He felt the full weight of evil in one moment. Imagine that: feeling every temptation and every touch of evil that all people have felt throughout history in one single moment. It would overwhelm us; indeed, we fall at much less. Yet, Christ did not sin, and so even before His Crucifixion, His victory was won. He assumed our sin in the fullness of his humanity and overcame it, something we do not and ultimately cannot do, and so He defeated it utterly and finally for us all.

This is the Gospel, the great hope of Christianity which for two thousand years has given to all Christians unmitigated joy and hope and a desire to share it with all the world. It is what has given Christians the strength to endure the greatest trials and even martyrdom for Christ, and what has inspired the greatest accomplishments of art, philosophy, theology and science in history. And, even today, it is what calls us all to a life not of bondage and slavery, but of hope, joy, love and life to the fullest, both now and for eternity.

God bless!

Saturday, March 22, 2014

The Pacifistic Atheist

Many Catholics today, particularly apologists, when discussing atheism tend to cite the atrocities committed by 20th century Communist regimes, such as the Soviet Union and China, as evidence that atheism eventually leads to an allowance of evil. Without deference to the higher moral authority of God, it is argued, atheism naturally leads to a dismissal of the dignity of human beings and a subsequent abuse of them. However, many modern atheists argue that those Communist regimes were in fact not truly atheistic because they supposedly worshiped the state. I find this idea very intriguing and quite divergent from older forms of atheism, such as that enforced by the state in Communist nations.

Modern atheism critiques religion, especially as lived in the public sphere and daily life, for one particular sin: fanaticism. They argue that whenever someone believes something is deeply important, when someone holds strong convictions, that this naturally leads to a willingness to fight and even kill to defend or enforce one's beliefs. They cite such events as the Crusades, Inquisition and modern Islamic terrorism to justify this assertion. As I said above, they also cite examples of this in violent atheistic regimes, such as Soviet Communists, saying that because Communists fought and killed for the sake of the State, they thus worshiped that state and so were religious fanatics. Those Communists, however, said that they were enforcing atheism specifically, not just the rule of their State. It was ideological as much as political. Essentially, then, modern atheists are asserting the position that atheistic Communist regimes believed in atheism with such strong conviction that they turned it into a religion; by their willingness to fight to spread and enforce atheism, their atheism became religious and so was no longer truly atheistic.

This is a very curious position. It also seems to be the root of the tendency for modern atheists, as well as more moderate agnostics, to assert essentially passive philosophies such as relativism and multiculturalism. In these systems, value is entirely determined by and thus dependent upon the individual, giving no one the authority to assert their beliefs as universally true for all and so ensuring that no one will have such strong convictions that they would be willing to fight for what they believe in. Indeed, these are considered the only fundamental, universal truths, itself a logical contradiction of their stance yet asserted by modern atheists quite ubiquitously. Tolerance, acceptance, "live and let live" are the only convictions of modern atheists and these are considered immune to the temptation of older atheists, such as Communists, and religious people to fight over their beliefs.

I believe this is not only held by modern atheists and agnostics but truly as a consistent policy by modern society in general, from the government down to individuals and even to international organizations, including religions. I think this is one of the primary reasons why religion has been relegated to people's personal lives, marginalized out of the public square and prevented from having any definable influence over society, most clearly seen in the more secular nations of Europe. Modern people are simply so terrified of a repetition of the Crusades, WWII, the Cold War or the terrorist acts of 9/11 that they consider any amount of conviction to lead ultimately to violent fanaticism and war. This has led to many Christians, including a large percentage of Catholics in the US, to largely disobey the Church's teachings, whether on faith or morals, rarely standing up for the teachings of the Church in their daily lives or when they vote, and why so few attend Mass and even fewer go to confession. It is seen as controversial, provocative, and ultimately fanatical to be religious with conviction.

I think the only way that Catholics today can repair this, particularly in the US, is to show that Christians can stand up for and live the teachings of the Church, to live out our faith in our daily lives, without being violent, judgmental, hateful or ideological in any way. The Holy Father Pope Francis has tried to assert this fact, but it seems to me that modern people's deep-seated fear of fanaticism remains strongly resistant to his urgings, even when saints like Pope John Paul II and Mother Theresa prove that we as Catholics can stand up for and live out our faith without ever resorting to violence or hate of any kind. We must show the world that the love of Christ is peaceful, but also that peace comes first and foremost through truth and the justice it engenders, not through lies and ignoring people's sins and the harm they do to the common good of society.

As Catholics, we also need to make the distinction between right and wrong on principle, not simply on results. Peace is a good but not the highest good; when grave evils are being perpetrated or dangerous falsehoods are being spread, pointing out these evils and lies with clarity and conviction will ultimately bring peace, but it will first bring division, since people do not automatically renounce the wrongs they do simply when they are corrected. The teachings of Catholicism do not permit any violence which is unjust according to the standards of the Gospel, and so whenever a Catholic does commit violence contrary to Church teaching, they cannot be said to represent the Church. However, some worldviews such as atheism which lack a permanent and fundamental affirmation of the value of human life are in principle open to the kind of violence perpetrated by atheistic Communist and Fascist regimes of history. The only way atheists can truly refute the violence of these regimes is to redefine them as religious rather than atheistic, but this is to make the additional claim that religion is intrinsically violent, as explained above, whereas atheism, lacking any strong conviction, is essentially peaceful. The question we must ask ourselves when presented with this dilemma is: what is the price of peace? What are we willing to ignore for the sake of peace? Evils will occur whether people are religious or not, but only if we believe in evil and can clearly distinguish it from the good are we able to recognize evil and fight against it in the right way.

God bless.

Thursday, November 14, 2013

The Practice of Forgiveness

What does it mean to forgive? Too often, forgiveness is seen as a mere change of feeling towards someone. Because of this error, when our brains continue to feel something, as they usually do regardless of our rational desires, we think we have not forgiven someone, that the resentment or grudge we once held for someone remains. We cannot easily control what we feel, however; the activities of our brain are not immediately subject to our wills, as anyone paralyzed by fear or overwhelmed by a tragic event can attest. When we think of someone who once wronged us, or who is wronging us in the present, our brains often react with negative feelings simply because that is human nature. Our psyche is driven by fear in many instances, and feelings of anger and a desire to be rid of whatever is harming us, whether by avoiding it or removing it from our lives, is the brain trying to preserve us from that which we are afraid. To truly learn what it means to forgive, we must learn to look beyond our feelings and to focus on what we really can control: our choices.

To forgive someone is not simply to feel differently about them; as I have established, that is rarely something under our control. Rather, to forgive is to think about someone differently, to change our attitude and disposition willfully and voluntarily towards someone, both in our thoughts and actions. When we think of someone who has wronged us, how do we think about them? Do we focus on what they have done to us, on the frequent reality that little punishment has come to them for their wrongdoing, that they rarely repent of what they have done and that we the victims tend to suffer more for someone else's wrongs than they do? Do we even go so far as to think that, by hating them or resenting them, we are punishing them, dealing out justice where it may otherwise not be done?

We must examine ourselves closely to determine how we think about someone. From my own experience, when I retain grudges for people or think about them with contempt, I am truly covering up my own disappointment in them: I cared for them and wanted what was best for them, yet they betrayed that and so, rather than feel the tragic pang of disappointment, I distracted myself with anger and judgment. Or, I am afraid that what they did or said to me reveals a flaw in myself that I would rather ignore or that I cannot fix, and so rather than feel the sadness and regret for my own limitations, to examine myself and strive to correct my own problems or at least to accept them, I replace it with contempt for that person, focusing on their faults so as to avoid acknowledging my own.

These are only a few of the wide range of substitutions our human nature offers for forgiveness. But if we wish to overcome all this and truly, genuinely forgive someone, we must think about that person with "disinterest": not based on our personal bias, subjective feelings, or even our own memories. We also cannot think about them as if we have more authority than we do, as though it is our place to punish people for their sins. Rather, we must learn to view people with the objective, truthful love by which God views them. The severity of the wrongdoing someone has done against us cannot determine how we objectively view them. Just because someone hurt us very deeply and even irrevocably does not excuse us from the need to view them with disinterested, charitable love. We also cannot see it as though we are ignoring or lying about what they have done to us; it is not our place to record and preserve other people's sins. They occurred, forever imprinted on that person's soul, and only God can truly erase their sins or bring them to justice. Even what that person has done to those we love, including our own family, cannot affect how we see them.

We must learn to see people as human persons, created in the image and likeness of God, bearing the infinite, immutable dignity of sharing the humanity of Christ. This dignity cannot be lessened or removed. While some may deserve more of our love, whether from close affection or an admiration for their great accomplishments or holiness, all deserve love as human beings. We must love all as God does. He does not abandon anyone; nothing can separate us from His love, even when we separate ourselves from Him by our sins. God never loses this vision of people, no matter how far they remove themselves from Him. Nor should we. We must see everyone, even those who have hurt us or our loved ones, as the loving artwork of God, His treasure. "God shows his love for us in that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us." (Rom 5:8, RSVCE)

When we think of those who have wronged us or those close to us, we must see beyond the bias of our past experiences with them and resist our negative feelings, choosing instead to think positively about that person, to wish them the best, to hope and pray, with all sincerity, that they will repent of any sins that have committed and grow ever closer Christ. We cannot wish that they repent simply because we deserve it; it is far less important that they ask our forgiveness than that they ask for the mercy of God. We must also strive to never view ourselves as superior to them "since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God." (Rom 3:23) The worst sinners and the holiest saints all rely on the grace of God. None can save themselves, despite our delusions to the contrary. We must see ourselves as being in the same boat as those who offend us - for truly, they did not offend us, but God, just as we offend God when we sin, and we are all created and designed to be with God. This purpose is not lessened by our sins, and so our desire for everyone to reach their destiny in this way must not be lessened either, even by their most severe wrongdoing.

To truly come to know Christ and to be ever closer to Him, we must learn this truth of the value and worthiness of forgiveness. It, like all other virtues, is not easy, just as the Passion of Christ was not easy; but it is certainly worthwhile. I truly hope and pray that all of us may grow in mercy and thereby grow ever close to God.

 

God bless.