Tuesday, April 19, 2005
Benedict XVI
Well, the smoke poured white from the Vatican today, and a German Cardinal became the 265th Pope, the 16th to bear the name Benedict, but only the second in our lifetime. Watching the CNN coverage of the new Pontiff, it almost seems like a farse, like someone is making a joke of impersonating the pope. For me, the title "Pope" has always been synonymous with the name John Paul II and the face of the man who took that name for his papacy. Today, it really feels like JPII is gone-- more than when he died, more than during his multiple funeral masses, more than when they laid him in the crypt beneath St. Peters. Today, he is both gone and replaced, and the title "Pope" has been taken from his shoulders and laid across those of Cardinal Ratzinger, now Pope Benedict XVI. It will take a little time before my heart hands the mantle over. [Yes, it's true. I'm not a very good protestant, but I'm better as a popish Anglican than I would be as a skeptical Catholic. The irony is much more healthy this way.]
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OK, if this doesn't generate at least some response from somebody other than Dave and me (or maybe Grady), I will be sorely disappointed. So, to get the provberial ball rolling, I will play the provocateur and pose the question (which I have never heard answered to my satisfaction): why is it that students of philosophy at Wheaton, and elsewhere, find themselves drawn toward Catholicism? I would love to hear input on this issue from anyone, but, obviously, this is mostly directed toward Coye, from whom I am hoping for clear rationale, if not startling insight. Incidentially, I am also waiting on a response to this question from another Wheaton Philosophy grad (with the initials JN), who I ran into this weekend back at Wheaton. If and when I get such a response (it is a busy time of the semester), I will add it to this discusion.
On another note, I was looking forward to the election of the first non-European pope (perhaps from Latin America--I didn't think the world was ready yet for an African pope (which is somewhat ironic in itself, given both church history and the demographics of the modern church)), so I am a little disappointed with the choice, but (perhaps?) it is the case that the Holy Spirit guides this process, and has other ideas. (That long, rambling sentence also leaves room for response from the gallery.)
Actually, there have already been 3 African popes. They were all North African and rather early in the history of the Roman Church (much like St. Augustine), but they were African pontiffs none the less. That said, a non-European pope would be an interesting development. Quite.
Andy, I refuse to answer any questions on behalf of the totality of philosophy students at Wheaton, but if you want to know what I find attractive about Catholicism, I will be glad to share. If you want a volunteer to speak on behalf of the entire department, you should try asking someone else, perhaps your sister.
Answering “on behalf of” and answering “as a representative sample of” are quite different things. Seeing as disciplines emerge from a dynamic system driven by our elective affinities, it is safe to say that you have a great deal in common with other students who gravitated toward the world of “Philosophy Major.” If I may ironically speak on behalf of Andy, I believe his question (when read charitably) asks you to speak as “a representative sample of” the group of students who gravitate toward philosophy. In fact, you would have to use quite a lot of straw in order to construct out of the Andy I know an asker who demands (in a way that warrants a “refusal”) that you speak “on behalf of” this group. So the question emerges: what was it that made you react toward an emphatic refusal here? Or have I misread you both?
Now this, and your discussions about the office and the name of the Pope have got me thinking for real about the question I asked, off a whim, in a previous post (I’m delighted that my thoughtless question has generated such thoughtful responses—which is often the case!)—I’ve been thinking about the relationship between our active “selves” (i.e. that aspect of our self that actually makes decisions, acts, reacts, etc—the “I”) and our objective selves (“me”—that aspect of our self that is considered, imagined and, most importantly, named (with a variety of tangled names)). That’s the first two legs of the equation. Then there’s the larger equation: the marketplace of names, if you will—the “pre-formed” (reference to the existence of an individual) names (i.e. roles, etc.) that emerge from the dynamic of macro and mezzo social actions and which factor into the narrowing of self that we enact as we begin to choose our company (or work out our company, as the case may be), and thus our titles, names, etc. This marketplace of names is not unconnected from the decisions of the individual as she puts on and takes off respective roles. All of this is in a remarkable relationship.
Today, a man became something he was not before today, and as he did this, a whole calculus of names shifted and quivered in their interconnectedness: the whole system underwent a rippling change which still ungulates toward settling—a calming motion that will likely continue its whimpers until the man dies.
What’s in a name? What’s in a role? What choice do we have toward these things? Asking these questions is like being caught up in the spiral of a strengthening current in which everything becomes motion and nothing becomes still. The harder you try to stop the flow, the more you see the system moves you.
But in all of this, in all of this—amid the growing current—my voice yet cries out: “no qua but toward Christ! No name but His!” I cannot say precisely why I sing this here, I sing it not as a polemic, but as my hope.
I appreciate Dave's charitable reading, and am a little confused by Coye's vitriolic one... I certainly did not aim to cause offense, but merely to engage in a discussion we all could appreciate and learn from.
and I will not dignify your backhanded insult to my sister with a response, either. Really, Coye, what's going on here?
Alright, I did NOT insult Andy's sister! I mean, really, I entirely fail to comprehend any scenario in any universe where I could be read as insulting your sister. Ridiculous. And I wasn't vitriolic! Read how the question is worded: it asks me to speak on behalf of, not only Wheaton philosophy students, but students of philosophy at Wheaton and elsewhere. To be fair, I can read Andy's question as asking for my personal input in a larger act of gathering information, but I wanted it to be clear-- absolutely clear-- that I cannot speak for any group-- not even as a representative sample of-- any group called "philosophy grads" or "Wheaton philosophy students". I pointed to Jen as a way of illustrating the fact that many people who fit into the category "Wheaton philosophy student" are very different from me and have, as far as I know, not a shred of Catholic leanings. Thus, I refuse to speak on behalf of or as a representative sample of that group. I have, however, also made it clear that I will be glad to share my own experience and religious leanings as long as they are understood as MINE and not representative of anyone else. I felt that it was a rather charitable gesture. I'm all about having discussions that we can benefit from, but I'm not a representative figure. I'm Coye.
On another note, I was thinking a lot about the name changing thing also. The weird thing about this name is that Benedict XVI CHOSE his own name, but the circumstance of that choosing was thrust upon him from outside, so to speak. [I hate all your sisters.]
"I'm all about having discussions that we can benefit from, but I'm not a representative figure. I'm Coye."
Sociologically speaking, you cannot but represent an incredible amout of things. Or did you pluck all that you are ex nihilo? In fact, I would tend to think that if you cannot speak as a representative--or more pointedly, as a co-representative--of anything, then fruitful discussion becomes impossible. If you are, simply, Coye and I am, simply, Dave, and this is this and that is that, then we can have no discussion.
If, however, you grant that you elected toward the world of philosophy major for reasons simmilar to the reasons others at Wheaton gravitated toward this world, and if you grant that there MAY be something behind your choosing of this world which might have SOMETHING to do with an affinity toward the Roman Catholic Church, and if you grant that there might be SOME DEGREE to which the interactions within the world of philosophy majors might strengthen this affinity toward the RCC--then grant the asker his hyphosis, and play along for a while. These seem like perfectly reasonable lines of inquiry!
And, to be fair, I didn't read your comments as a vitriolic reading of Andy's question, I was simply surprised by the strength--and continued strength--of your "refusal" to represent anything.
Again, I ask, what, if not some form of representation, is in a name!? And if anything is in it, then is there not the web of defference with which you are very familiar? And is it not fair to ask about certain connections within this web?
OK, enough for now.
Who has the initials JN? My best guess from reading all of this is that Andy Logemann's sister is married, but that is quite a leap from the facts that I actually know.
I'd be interested in the initial reactions that people have to this Pope. I'm comfortable with the choice and curious to see how long he is going to last, but I must admit that I was hoping for a pope from the Southern half of the world.
Is anyone else willing to touch the question of whether the Spirit leads selection of the Pope? I'm inclined to say yes under the assumption that the Cardinals really are trying to follow God's will.
JN is a friend of mine and Andy's named Jeremy.
Does the Spirit lead the selection of the pope? I think that the Catholic Church tends to have a very healthy view of the work of the Spirit within the Church; it is healthy in that it recognizes that much of what the Church does is a partnership between the Spirit and human agency. The conclave is in many ways a political thing and involves reason and compromise as well as prayer and fasting, but this does not mean it is not the work of the Holy Spirit. I know from experience that a lot of protestant charismatics have a problem with calling something the work of the Spirit if it has to be explained and argued for (and, obversely, they don't want to give "earthly" reasons for what they take to be the Spirit's guidance). Do you know the corny line between lovers, "Sometimes I don't know where I end and you begin."? In some ways, I think that's how it is with the Church: we can have a hard time pointing to the place where human action ends and the work of the Spirit begins... assuming there is a difference.
Let me begin with a rephrasing of my previous query: if Coye, or anyone else, would like to share any personal reflections about his affinity, or lack of affinity, toward the Christian institution known as the Roman Catholic Church, I, personally, would welcome such insights. If, further, anyone would like to extrapolate from their convictions in this regard any more generalized comments on the relationship between Protestants and our Catholic brethren (and sisteren), I, and perhaps others (though I am not attempting to speak for anyone but myself, of course), would also be interested. However, to be clear, this request should not be construed as a demand to speak for a constituency, or even a desire to further an understanding of any sort of grouping of people—the existence of such groups, and the ability to speak as a representative of anything or anyone, are to greater or lesser degrees open questions among our little group, and I would not deign to force the issue before we settle the question…
The rest will have to wait for later, since I have to run off to a meeting. Until then…
Well, I don't know if you noticed, but I already started extolling the virtues of the Roman church in reply to Mr. Strauss's comment. It's a really complicated thing for me that is difficult to parse out (although I do like some of what Grady said-- I do love incense), which is why I am terribly afraid of speaking for anyone else. That whole relationships of groups and memebers (a sort of meriology) should be taken up somewhere else, and I suppose that Dave and I will probably get around to it eventually. Maybe Ryan could even join in and call me a heretic or something (I would love it if Ryan came back and called me a heretic about SOMETHING), but let's keep the comments on this post more in keeping with reverance for our departed brother Pope John Paul II. I think the developing conversation about the attractiveness of the Roman church is quite fitting.
baby steps into extolling the virtues of Roman Catholicism...
Probably the single most attractive thing to me about the Roman Church would have to be its strong sense of the community of the body of Christ extending around the globe and across time. The idea that we are connected with every other Christian who has ever lived not merely by association but by need-- that we are necessary to one another in working out our salvation-- is very powerful and very beautiful. That's a rather attractive feature, for starters.
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