Sophia Dei

When I was in the process of joining the Catholic Church, I asked myself, why Catholic and not Orthodox? They both have the Real Presence and succession back to the apostles. But it didn’t take long for me to know: my mind was Western; I needed the Western Church. My heritage is Western; I already belonged to the Western Church and her daughters.

The Eastern Church is comfortable resting in mystery; the Western Church wants to dissect and categorize. Both lungs have their scholars and mystics, but the Western Church maintains that Roman heritage of rational inquiry. We like to study and define and order. The Church teaches, contrary to popular opinion, that faith and reason work together. How could truth contradict truth? Faith without reason leads to superstition and blind following. Reason without faith leads to relativism and nihilism. If you think you’ve thought of something original regarding Christianity, there’s a saint to thought it and said it better in the third century, and it’s cited in the catechism.

St. Thomas Aquinas is often considered the epitome of Catholic rationalism. He was a thirteenth-century philosopher and mystic whose writings still instruct the Church on faith and reason. But that also makes him intimidating. Can I really understand his logic? How can I ever get through such long, dense treatises? I often joke that even Thomas Aquinas couldn’t get through the Summa Theologiae (he died before he finished writing it, and the last section was pieced together from his notes).

I want to know the rational arguments of the faith. I want to know them so well that I can explain and integrate them. But, I never had a formal logic or philosophy education, so the format or language of works like the Summa can be challenging. A few weeks ago, I started attending a new study group that is studying Aquinas, and I’m so exited to actually learn some of the most basics arguments.

Although Thomas Aquinas lived in the 1200s, his arguments are rooted in the Western scholastic tradition. The earliest Western philosophers (pre-Socrates) sought rational explanations of the universe, specifically the cause (or first principle). They observed the material world for solutions. Pythagoras added numbers—materials could be sorted into formal, delineated categories. The observed classical elements (fire, air, water, earth) could also be combined and subtracted. Sophists added rhetoric, so that there was a formal way of debating the studied topics.  Many philosophers of this time argued that there was no objective truth and that morality was ever-changing and only useful in specific contexts.

Next came the Classical period of Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle. Socrates developed the critical method of questioning one’s thinking and applying logical checks to arguments. Plato studied knowledge and how it is acquired. He also wrote extensively on virtue. Aristotle applied logic to each branch of inquiry. He is considered the father of empiricism (sensory observation), proposing four types of causes—material, efficient, formal, and final. Their influence affected the philosophers of the Roman Empire. By the fall of the Romans and the rise of Christianity, schools of thoughts such as the Neopythagoreans and Neoplatonists had emerged. In particular, the Neoplatonists argued that mind exists before matter, and the universe has a cause (more on that later), thus the material universe must have a singular mind.

Early Christian thinkers were influenced by the Greek/Roman tradition. St. Augustine in particular has a lot of Neoplatonist influence in his arguments for the existence of the soul, nature of the material world, and concept of God as one.

In the 1100s, scholasticism rose as the new school of thought. It emphasized dialectical reasoning to analyze and critique. St. Anselm argued that God could be proved using logic. Aquinas’ mentor St. Albert the Great, was one of the most influential thinkers of the time and now patron saint of the natural sciences. He made contributions to logic, theology, psychology, metaphysics, meteorology, mineralogy, and zoology. Albert studied Aristotle and synthesized pre-Christian and Islamic thought into Christian philosophy. For him, and later Aquinas and other Thomists, natural philosophy, logic, and reason have universal elements (experiment, observation, deduction) and a pantheistic or an Islamic scholar is capable of contributing to those areas as well as a Christian.

While we treat the Renaissance of as a rediscovery of ancient thought, there has always been a tradition of philosophy rooted in the classical thinkers. The observance of nature, the search for God, the understanding of virtue and truth, and the knowledge of knowledge have always been a part of the Christian faith, and they are all intertwined. They are different aspects of the same grand search.

“The study of philosophy is not that we may know what men have thought, but what the truth of things is.” -St. Thomas Aquinas

The Homeless, Tempest-tost

Most Americans come from several lines of immigrants, those who looked across the sea and envisioned something better—either safety or freedom or money. They rode for weeks on tiny, crowded ships. They indentured themselves for years. They loaded up all their belongings in a wagon and walked, further and further west, over mountains and down valleys, building entire communities from scratch. Over the generations, they built me a comfortable home, a place where I feel like a belong. My family’s past echoes through the settled mountains and streets and cemeteries with familiar names. Their bones are in the ground I walk on, and I’m glad to have them as a foundation.

But it is because of that, that I have trouble relating to these ancestors. Their blood is in my veins; their decisions led to my life, and yet I do not know them. I know several (Brethren/Huguenot) came seeking religious freedom from the political troubles of the times. Others were undoubtedly seeking freedom from personal troubles. Others simply wanted the chance of their own land and wealth and took the chance. How many really wanted to leave? How hard was this decision made? Where their arguments between spouses or parents and children? Did the whole community come together, or were they venturing out alone? How did they decide those essential few items to bring?

What happened to reach the moment of decision to go—go out into a new, unknown land, to leave all that you’ve known, the land of your ancestors, and start anew? It is an expensive and permanent decision. Few ever turned back. What must life have been like for a totally new beginning to be the best option? I can’t imagine what it would take for me to give it all up. Extreme poverty or violent persecution or a personal series of disasters maybe. But I can’t imagine the pain enduring any of that very long and then accepting that it’s time to go.

Today is the World Day of Migrants and Refugees. There are so many negative stereotypes of immigrants/refugees, as opportunists or criminals or people who will bring their nation’s problems with them. But so many are leaving for a reason. They want to be safe. They want their children to not feel the pain they feel. They’ve reached the point of leaving behind their home—many don’t want to go. I wouldn’t. Circumstance has uprooted them. They’re committed to making this decision work, but they will carry the pains that led to that decision alongside their pared-down belongings. How can we not look at immigrants and refugees (especially the refugees who are displaced by violence) and not want to help them? Wouldn’t I want to be welcomed and assured that all will be well?

I hope someone welcomed my ancestors—showed them around and helped them settle and introduced them to new neighbors and friends. A kind gesture can go a long way when you’re tired and weary. We are commanded to welcome the stranger and love your neighbor.

I can offer a hello. I can offer a smile. I can offer rides and basic supplies and directions. I can understand that someone is in the middle of a big and vulnerable decision, even if that drive to move seems so foreign to my own feelings. But for a few generations, I was those people. The drive pushed my people—keep moving: further out, better land, newer and safer and ours. But then the crisis stilled and they stayed. And here I am.

St. Phocas the Gardener

Phocas lived in Sinope on the Black Sea in the late third century. He was a gardener, and he gave crops from his garden to the poor and the persecuted Christians. He also opened his home for travelers and any seeking shelter. According to legend, during the persecutions of Diocletian, soldiers were sent to kill Phocas. They were welcomed by a gardener, not knowing him to be the man they were seeking. He took them in and offered to help them find the victim.

As the soldiers rested, Phocas arranged for his possessions to be given to the poor and dug his own grave. In the morning, he revealed himself to the soldiers. They offered to leave and claim that they couldn’t find him, but he refused the offer.

He was beheaded and buried in the grave he dug. He is the patron of hospitality, gardeners, farmers, and sailors. His feast day is celebrated on July 23 or Sept. 22.

Humble Leaders

What makes a good leader? These days, it’s easier to look at our leaders and state what makes someone not a good leader: self-interest, callousness, profiteering, cowardness, all forms of pride and greed. We want leaders to actually lead, not just dictate from plush cushions. We want leaders who see us and move us move. We want leaders worth following.

Leaders should come from the best of the people, not through inherited or bought positions. They should be ones who exemplify the best of the people’s virtues and inspire followers to do the same. They should be invested in making the community better and committed to doing so. But too many leaders think that by gaining power, they have earned to live apart from the people. They command how the people live but themselves live by different rules. They make money at the expense of helping the community. They are immune from consequences or shame. That is for poor followers, not leaders.

There is a lack of humility in leadership today. Admitting wrong is weakness. And strength is everything. In politics, in business, in church—people confuse strength and confidence with righteousness and honesty. The veneer of leadership means more than actually leading.

But a good leader knows that her position comes not from strength but trust. And trust must be earned and maintained. “With great power comes great responsibility.” The people have placed their trust in their leader, and in turn, that leader now bears more responsibility over her people. A good leader feels the weight of that responsibility. A good leader cares about the outcome for the followers, not for personal success and polling numbers but for the betterment of the community. A pastor is responsible for the souls of his parish. A mayor is responsible for the residents of his city. The people may not have voted for that leader or even like that leader, but that leader now has a responsibility to seek everyone’s best interests. A good leader is humble and selfless—qualities we don’t often see in our leaders.

Leaders should be the ones to sacrifice first. They don’t let someone in their care suffer more than they are willing to suffer. If there is one bed, the leader sleeps on the floor. If there is one piece of bread, the leader goes without dinner. If there is one place on the boat, the leader stays in the water. A good leader sacrifices for her people. A good leader teaches us to sacrifice for others. A good leader earns power through strength—not the forceful kind, but the silent strength of accepting a burden and giving for others without compliant.

When I think of the leaders in my life, I don’t imagine any willing to sacrifice for me. I doubt any of my political leaders would even take a 3% tax hike for me, much less actually give up their comfort or their life. Why should I follow someone who doesn’t take responsibility in their leadership? How do any of us figure out what a virtuous life looks like when our leaders can’t demonstrate it for us? Yes, we are responsible for ourselves, but our leaders are responsible for us too. They fail us when they fail to be good leaders. And frankly, their souls are in more danger. I may fail by burying one talent in the ground, but you better not bury ten.

I wish leaders had more humility and shame and willingness to sacrifice. But power is seductive, and it’s easier for someone wealthy or in power to lose their soul to pride and greed. It’s just that when leaders lose their souls, they often take followers with them.

I want to be led. I’m just waiting around for a good shepherd.