Logical Coherence

Lately I have been thinking about the problem of morality and belief. Morality is a crucial link in the chain of belief, and in fact, has been invoked as the reason for God's existence more than any other. Dostoyevski, in The Brothers Karamazov, argues that if there is no God, all things are permitted.

All things are permitted. For some time I was unsatisfied with this as an argument for God because it seemed a bit thin. Yes it would be terrible if there were no morality, but we could muddle through with some kind of social contract. But this underestimates the meaning of "all things are permitted." Morality doesn't simply tell us not to kill our neighbors and eat them for food. It is the very coherence of human thought.

Here is what I mean. Morality is tightly bound to truth. After all, everyone agrees that we should all be seeking the truth. "Should" is the operative verb here. If there is no such thing as the moral "should," then knowledge of truth becomes at best a pretty incidental property of nature, something like color or shape. Taken another way, if I believe a lie and there is no moral dimension to truth, believing a lie is just as good as believing the truth, provided the truth will not hurt me (i.e., a bullet is coming my way).

This is not an easy problem to get around. In fact, most of the arguments against belief talk about the immorality of religion -- an incoherence if there ever was one, since something cannot be immoral if there is not a standard of goodness to apply it to.

Without morality logic loses much of its coherence. Truth becomes another property of matter just like any other, one that can be ignored just as we can choose to overlook the greenness of trees or the size of an ant. Truth is no longer a vital pursuit. Our desire to unlock the secrets of the universe become vanity exercises, and our desire to live a contradiction-free life is entirely meaningless.

The statement that belief in God is absurd is empty of meaning without morality. Only because the word God carries weight can the word absurd carry any.

I am now up to devotion 114.

The Matter of Complexity

It is a favorite tactic of religious critics, and especially critics of Catholicism, to ridicule one religious rite or another as proof that religion is bunk. Because Catholics cross themselves with holy water before entering a church, for example, we must all be under the spell of shamans.

Suppose someone knew nothing about France, not even its existence. That person might ask me, "What is France?" I could respond by saying, "The French enjoy eating freshly baked bagettes." This response, while peculiar, is true enough, and quite characteristic of the French. Yet it hardly answers the question. The response seems senseless, but, if I then went all the way back to the beginning of French history, explained how French culture and society came about, after a few hours of explanation I could finally get around to showing why the French like bagettes, and why it is reasonable that they should.

The same could be said about the idiosyncratic practice of genuflection, or any other peculiar Catholic practice. The question is never the practice itself. It is the orgins of it that count.

May Day

I would be remiss if I ignored May 1st as a special day in my devotion. May, of course, has always been the month of Mary. To celebrate the month, I will try to say the rosary every single day, and in church on Sundays.

So far, I have been pretty consistent about my devotions, but I skip days from time to time. Let's go for 30 days straight. I think I am used to it now, so I should be able to pull this off.

Of note, an interesting symmetry: Today is May Day and I am up to 99 devotions. Today would be my hundredth.

Ave Maria.

Mortification

One thing my devotions have unexpectedly taught me is about the practice of mortification. Mortification literally refers to inflicting physical discomfort upon the self in the name of God. It is practiced in numerous religions.

I do not support the literal practice of mortification, but my daily prayers have shown me a more spiritual interpretation. I have been praying the rosary all year, having completed 92 of my 289 devotions. Needless to say, when I pray, my mind often wanders. To keep my mind on track I give myself mental cues -- for example, if I am meditating on the crucifixion, I will say the word "crucifix" out loud before each Hail Mary. This refocuses my mind on the task at hand. Other times I will kneel and then stand up. Or cross myself. Or perform some basic act that brings my mind back out of the ether.

This is what mortification is for. To bring the mind from far away back to the present. Physically injuring one's self or inflicting pain is certainly wrong, but a physical act, or even a mild discomfort (such as praying in the cold) keeps the mind focused. There is no separating the physical from the spiritual. Mortification, taken non-literally, makes this clear.

The End of Revelations

A very long time ago I promised myself I would read the entire Bible cover to cover. Why it took so long, I have no idea. I finished the Old Testament just before Hurricane Katrina, then lost my Bible in the storm. So I eventually bought a new one and started again. I finally set my sights on finishing the New Testament during Lent. And I did so on March 31, the day before Palm Sunday.

As for my rosary: I am up to number 81. 208 more to go.

Still Going

Last night I prayed my 61st rosary of this novena. Though I have not been writing about it, I have not given up.

The almost daily effort is starting to wear on me. I am not used to such spiritual demands. My hope is that this is simply a phase in my spiritual growth, and that I will overcome it with discipline.

Marian Devotions

I have been doing this novena for a month. Now I am up to rosary #29. Not having done this before, I am starting to feel the burden of saying the rosary every single day. This is someting I expected.

Many non-Catholics express skepticsm about devotions to Mary. They consider it a kind of idolotry. Catholics, however, do not worship Mary as a god. She is human, just like the rest of us, and no one denies it.

Interestingly, the same people who decry devotions have no problem with stopping to see Mt. Rushmore. They will enter the Lincoln Memorial or some equivalent monument with hushed reverence. Yet they are confident they do not confuse Abraham Lincoln with a god.

Mary is the Mother of Jesus. As such, she is first among all humans. Devotion to Mary is intended as emulation of Mary. Since she is human, it is possible to emulate her, and in so doing, to come closer to God. Mary should be thought of as the image of human perfection.

We pray to Mary because she is alive, just as all the dead are alive in God. When we pray to Mary, we ask her to pray for us. Mary does nothing on her own. She only asks on our behalf. Just as we may ask a friend to pray for us in a difficult time, we can ask Mary to pray for us. That is all Marian devotion is -- a more human way to approach God.

Faith is God's Gift

Lately I have become aware that the secret, if it be called a secret, to faith is understanding that faith is a gift from God. We cannot make ourselves believe. God gives us everything, including the insight of faith. The only thing we humans need do is accept God's grace.

People who work at believing in God are doomed to fail. I know; I worked at it for years, and had little to show for my efforts. Those who seek belief must prepare their souls to accept belief. This we do though quiet, moral living and through prayer or contemplation with a quiet mind. We must divest ourselves of the empty desires of this world, and realize that the physical pleasures of living, while good, are incomplete. Once we understand that we are incomplete in and of ourselves we can look to God and wait for the light to pour in.

Today: Rosary #25 Intention: For the salvation of my wife.

Number 17

Today's rosary is devotion number 17.
Intention: Increase my faith.

Two days ago my intention was to decrease my anxiety. After I prayed this rosary I thought nothing more of it.

I am in the habit of having one drink a day. Not every day, but most days. My choice is usually a double scotch. The drink cuts through my anxiety and helps me to sleep. I realize this is not healthy, but in my defense, I never get drunk, and I never have more than one. Still, the habit does concern me sometimes.

The next night after this intention for less anxiety, I was saying the rosary as usual. Somewhere around the third decade, I realized I had not had my daily nightcap. I had not even thought about it. This was because I felt no anxiety. My prayer had been answered, and I almost did not notice it.

It is easy to say that prayers are not always answered. But I wonder how often a prayer is answered, but in such a subtle way that the supplicant misses it.

The Seven Storey Mountain

Recently I have been reading The Seven Storey Mountain by Thomas Merton. This book is remarkable in many ways, but most meaningfully in the way Merton describes his gradual withdrawl from earthly concerns. This journey is quite moving, and it emphasizes an idea lost to modern life: Life is at its most peaceful and an harmonious when the individual is able to disengage from its cares.

Some critics of religion argue that it is just this disengagement that makes faith so ruinous. How can the world be made better when some of its most virtuous withdraw from it into their own world? This criticism only works if one denies the supernatural. If there is a life beyond our own natural world, then preparing for it and interacting with it is perfectly sensible. And at any rate, the world will always be full of evil as long as there are people in it willing to turn away from goodness. Those people who think humans can fight evil on human terms have missed the point.

It is impossible to fight evil on a personal basis when the cause of evil is within. This is like a man trying to steady a falling tree while he is sitting on one of its branches. Goodness comes from outside of us, not from within. And unless humans become attuned to this fact, improvement in the temporal world is impossible.

Number 15

Devotion: To relieve my anxiety.

Today's prayer is a meditation on my anxiety. I feel anxiety about almost everything, Anxiety is, among other things, produced by attachement to things of this world. We fear loss, and so we worry. The gospel tells us that we should be like the lillies of the field, who neither spin nor weave, and yet are clothed in great glory.

I used to take this to mean that if we believe we will be taken care of. This is true, but the promise is not for this world, but the next. Those who properly pray and reflect on life understand that life includes many burdens, and no clear promises. The clear promises come in the next life.

In principio creavit Deus caelum et terram

I start with the first line of the Vulgate, the Roman Catholic Latin Bible. The translation is, "In the Beginning, God created heaven and the earth."

This being a new year, I have adopted a resolution: to say the rosary 289 times. Why 289? Because the city of New Orleans is 289 this year. Call it a city novena.

No city in America needs its prayers more than New Orleans does.

In my entire life, I doubt I have said the rosary 25 times. It has, in fact, been so long that I had to look up the procedure on the internet before I started. Thus, such a long an arduous devotion will be an experience. That is why I am documenting my progress here.

I started my devotion on December 30, giving myself a slight head start on the year. As of today I have completed 14 rosary sayings. Since I have never prayed so much before, part of this journey will be to record the effects of this devotion upon me. There is no telling what prayer may do to a person.