Austin Hall Library

The Latest From Schall

Fr. James V. Schall, well-known Jesuit political philosophy professor from Georgetown University, and one of my favorite authors, released his latest book this fall. The Order of Things explores the various orders in the cosmos, and proposes that the universe is not only formed with a sense of order, but order with a sense of beauty.

Schall is a prolific writer, but the quality of his writing never suffers from constant production. I wrote back in September about his latest work up to that point (here). Fr. Schall may be one of the few true Renaissance men alive today and the breadth of his knowledge is profound. His website, along with samples of his writings and thought, may be accessed here. Note especially his "Twenty Books to Keep Sane By".

It was from Fr. Schall that I came to think more deeply about the idea that we should not look at what people say, but on what they do, how they act. As I recall, he indicated, in an article, that the idea was in Aristotle. He said, "When our words and our actions contradict each other, the philosopher knows that we have not found the truth, have not found the origin of our thoughts, have not reflected on the seriousness of our actions." I am persuaded that he, and Aristotle, were correct and, for quite some time, I have paid little attention to what people say.

The Relativity of Life Before Death

I recently ran across the following journal entry. No doubt prompted by reading something, as are virtually all my journal entries, but I do not now recall what I was reading. In any event, the sentiment expressed seems wholly appropriate in this season of waiting.

"It is not that all that passes before is of no value, but it is at death that life really matters. Until then, the life of a man is unsettled, and of relative importance, because prior to death man may at any moment fall into ruin and disgrace before men and before God. One moment he may be deemed worthy of admiration and praise; the next moment he may be despised or disregarded altogether. One moment he may be the center of attention and the next moment he may go unnoticed in the world. But, at death, the relative, the qualified, the comparative, becomes settled and absolute. Man is then left to be for all eternity what he was at the moment of his passing. What he was is of importance insofar only as it prepared him for that moment."

On the Locus of Hell

By the way, I happen to love Washington, D.C. (see this post). I find it compulsively stimulating and exciting. "Hell", as I use the term in my previous post is, after all, not a location, and it is not transparently grotesque or unattractive. On the contrary, at some level it presents itself to our senses as charming, attractive, even alluring. It is not at all the failure to get what one loves. It is getting what one loves only to discover too late that one has loved the wrong thing.

Culture and Agriculture

Persuaded as I have become, that far too long I neglected local soil and local memory, I recently acquired several acres in the land of my birth and renewed my acquaintance with the thoughts of Wendell Berry. I simply woke up one morning and thought I was in hell, only to discover that it was Washington, D.C. And my thoughts turned to home and Wendell Berry.

I am currently reading Berry's What Are People For?, a collection of twenty-two essays that deal with agrarianism, environmentalism, politics, and assorted other subjects. I am also reading The Art of the Commonplace: The Agrarian Essays of Wendell Berry, which is a collection of twenty-one essays that clearly outline and promote a vision of culture for people who are dissatisfied with the stress-filled direction of contemporary American culture. Filled with insightful social criticism, these essays present a deeply human response to our dominant urban and technological culture. Finally, I am reading The Unsettling of America: Culture and Agriculture, originally published in 1977, which is generally considered a Berry classic. In this book, Berry argues that good farming is a cultural development and a spiritual discipline. Berry's ideas deserve thoughtful and reflective consideration and perhaps his lifestyle deserves greater emulation.

The Oddities and Horrors of Life

My work has always been the source of interesting experiences and interesting people. Lately, I seem to be coming into contact with the "unusual" character more often than in the past. I enjoy it, and It frequently brings to mind one of my favorite authors--Flannery O'Connor. O'Connor's novels and short stories sometimes struck her critics as being filled with oddities and grotesques, and some critics even described her fiction as "horror stories." But, O'Connor responded that her critics had "hold of the wrong horror." For her, the horror wasn't the wickedness reflected in the lives of people she wrote about. As George Weigel noted, the horror of the modern world is that, if nothing is really of ultimate consequence, then "the wickedness isn't really wicked" and "the good isn't good".

The horror of life in the modern world is not the existence of morons, grotesques, or even evil, it is the growing loss of any moral sense in those who see themselves as normal.

On Civilization and Culture

Perhaps the best book to read to understand the concepts of "civilization" and "culture" is T.S. Eliot's short volume Notes Towards the Definition of Culture. It is occasionally difficult to find and might only be available on the secondary market. Eliot was one of the greatest modern poets and won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1948. While his literary work has met with a variety of criticisms (including from C.S. Lewis), Eliot was a consistently traditional and deeply profound critic of modern culture.

It is from the line of recent thinkers on culture including Eliot, Arnold Toynbee, Christopher Dawson, Eric Voegelin, and Russell Kirk that I was introduced to the idea that cultures arise from cults (a cult is a joining together for worship--the attempt to commune with a transcendent power). In one form or another, these eminent historians and thinkers expounded the idea that religion is the fundamental foundation for culture. As Kirk writes, "Once people are joined in a cult, cooperation in many other things becomes possible. Common defense, irrigation, systematic agriculture, architecture, the visual arts, music, the more intricate crafts, economic production and distribution, courts and government--all these aspects of a culture arise gradually from the cult, the religious tie."

But, what if the cult withers; that is, what if the religious foundation weakens over time? What then happens to the civilization or culture that is rooted in the cult? For an answer to that disturbing question, one need look no further than an analysis of the twentieth century in the West, particularly Britain and America (which are essentially one culture).

When the loss of faith occurs in a culture, or when faith has been enfeebled, the culture swiftly decays. Untethered from its roots, a culture displays indices of social disorder and psychological angst--increasing rates of family chaos, abortion, infanticide, abandonment of the elderly, and suicide. Faced with the loss of any transcendent moorings, society turns in on itself and grasps for some sense of happiness (security) like a drowning man claws at his would be rescuer. The reason for this is that the material order of the universe rests upon the spiritual and moral order. The decay of the latter is the doom of the former.

The Great Liberal Death Wish

Some years ago I fell under the influence of those sobering voices that tell us that the civilization of which we are a part is not long for this world. One such voice is that of British author Malcolm Muggeridge. While on a flight yesterday, I was impressed with the accuracy of the final paragraph of Muggeridge's essay "The Great Liberal Death Wish" in summing up our current predicament at the beginning of the twenty-first century.

"As the astronauts soar into the vast eternities of space, on earth the garbage piles higher; as the groves of academe extend their domain, their alumni's arms reach lower; as the phallic cult spreads, so does impotence. In great wealth, great poverty; in health, sickness, in numbers, deception. Gorging, left hungry; sedated, left restless; telling all, hiding all; in flesh united, forever separate. So we press on through the valley of abundance that leads to the wasteland of satiety, passing through the gardens of fantasy; seeking happiness ever more ardently, and finding despair ever more surely."

While one cannot always predict the future, and we must hope and work for the best, the indications are that nothing can be done to save our civilization, except, as Russell Kirk writes, "for a remnant to gather in little 'communities of character' while society slides toward its ruin."

Christmas or Anytime in Jefferson

Each year, roughly corresponding with the beginning of Advent, the Northeast Texas town of Jefferson, begins its celebration of the Christmas Season with the Candlelight Tour of Homes (for example, View this photo and View this photo).   Claiming to be one of the oldest towns in Texas, Jefferson is filled with brick streets, antique shops, historic nineteenth century homes, an intensely serious historic society, and a Southern charm reminiscent of a time we can scarcely remember but deeply miss.

The site of my favorite General Store in Texas, Jefferson is a delightful place to visit for any reason, but I most enjoy walking its streets, sitting on one of its many public benches, and reading and reflecting. I normally stay at the 1850s Excelsior House (View this photo), but the town is known for its many outstanding B&Bs. Not on its way to anywhere, if you visit Jefferson, you should not be in a hurry, and consider taking a boat ride on the Big Cypress Bayou or Caddo Lake. The whole area is a reader's and writer's paradise.

What Happened to Advent?

Joseph Bottum, editor of First Things, has a short piece in the most recent issue of that journal on the secularization of Advent. It is well worth reading. Here is the introductory paragraph:

"Christmas has devoured Advent, gobbled it up with the turkey giblets and the goblets of seasonal ale. Every secularized holiday, of course, tends to lose the context it had in the liturgical year. Across the nation, even in many churches, Easter has hopped across Lent, Halloween has frightened away All Saints, and New Year's has drunk up Epiphany."

We entered yesterday all over the world the four-week period of preparation and hope that begins the liturgical year. This special season, along with Lent, is important to counteract the numbness brought about by the sedatives of modern life.