The Josias Podcast, Episode XXI: We Live in a Society

We live in a society in which the few live in excess, while the many live in miserable and wretched conditions. We live in a society in which the poor are defenseless against the inhumanity of employers and the unbridled greed of competitors. We live in a society in which these evils are compounded by a devouring usury practiced by avaricious and grasping men. We live in a society in which innocent children are murdered in abortion clinics. We live in a society in which the sin of Sodom is paraded with open pride and enjoys the favor of the laws. We live in a society in which depravity exults; science is impudent; liberty, dissolute. We live in a society in which the holiness of the sacred is despised; sound doctrine is perverted; and errors of all kinds spread boldly. We live in a society in which the divine authority of the Church is opposed and her rights shorn off. We live in a society in which by institutions and by the example of teachers, the minds of the youth are corrupted. We live in a society… We live in a society? Do we actually live in a society? What sense does it make to call the clownish chaos of our lamentable times a “society”? The editors are joined by P.J. Smith of southern Indiana to discuss these and related questions.

Bibliography and Filmography

Music: “Vesti la Giubba” from Leoncavallo’s Pagliacci, sung by Luciano Pavarotti.

Header Image: Joaquin Phoenix in Joker (2019)

If you have questions or comments, please send them to editors(at)thejosias.com.

Follow us on Facebook and Twitter.

Many thanks to our generous supporters on Patreon, who enable us to pay for podcast hosting. If you have not yet joined them, please do so. You can set up a one-time or recurring donation in any amount. Even $1 a month would be splendid.

Introduction to Natural Law Jurisprudence (part 4)

By Professor Brian M. McCall

Adapted from ch. 1 of The Architecture of Law: Rebuilding Law in the Classical Tradition (Notre Dame Press 2018). Part 1 can be found here, part 2 here, and part 3 here.


OVERVIEW OF THE EDIFICE: DO WE NEED TO KNOW ITS ORIGIN?

Combining the elements of Aquinas’s definition and effects of law produces an understanding of law as a rule and measure of human acts ordained by reason toward the common good, which is promulgated by one who has care of the community and which makes use of punishment to make men good by commanding good, forbidding evil, and permitting neutral acts. This definition identifies the genus of law, but when we penetrate deeper we see that law is composed of different species. To help understand these distinctions we can draw upon the image of an architectural structure. Just as a building is composed of many levels, so too the genus of law is composed of several levels of law. Before looking at individual levels, however, it is necessary to survey the design of the overall structure. How do the pieces fit together?

Gratian begins his treatise on laws with the following division of the types of law making up the legal structure: “The human race is ruled by two things: natural law and long-standing human customs.”115 Gratian immediately sheds more light on this two-part division of law in the first causa of this first distinction when he quotes Isidore of Seville:

All the laws that exist are either of divine or human origin. Divine laws are constituted [constant] by nature, but human laws are constituted by human customs, and therefore human laws differ from community to community because certain things are pleasing to different communities. The immutable divine will [fas] is the content of divinely made law, and political or conventional justice [ius] is the content of human law. That is why it is in accordance with divine law [fas] to cross through the field of another person, but it is contrary to human-made law [ius].116

The passage begins with a differently worded two-part division. Whereas the first division was between natural law and custom, the second is between divine law and human law. The terms “divine” or “human” can be reconciled to the earlier division, natural law and custom. The second division refers to their respective origins, whereas the first refers to a representative type of each genus produced by divine or human agency. Huguccio in his commentary on Gratian confirms the divine origin of natural law and verbally links Gratian’s opening division to the passage of Isidore quoted by Gratian.117 He also explains that custom (mos) is human law (jus humanum), which is invented by man.118 Isidore says that divine laws stand in or are based on (constant) nature, whereas human law is based on longstanding practices. Hence, natural law has its origin in God, and custom is the creation of human law. The Ordinary Gloss on this opening passage explains natural law is “divine,” and “custom” is “customary law or written or unwritten human law.”119 Isidore further notes that since human laws are rooted in the customs of nations, they can vary from nation to nation and are not universal. The implication is that divine law, rooted in nature, does not so vary. The divine law is immutable because it has its source in nature, which is universal.

Gratian’s text then introduces yet another pair of words to identify each of these two categories. First it calls laws of divine origin (that which stands in the nature of things) “fas.” This Latin word means that which is “right or fitting or proper according to the will or command of God.”120 Its universality and unchangeable nature is conveyed even by its grammatical status as an indeclinable noun—a noun that, uncharacteristically for Latin, does not change its ending according to its function in a sentence. Huguccio describes fas as whatever is “permitted,” “said to be appropriate and good,” and “ought to be said to be pleasing.”121 As opposed to customs that may please one people but not another, fas ought to be pleasing to all. The text then calls all human laws “jus.” This is a general Latin term often translated as “law,” but as Kenneth Pennington has argued, it conveys a rich penumbrae of meanings beyond mere legal enactments.122 It encompasses the sense of that which is right or just in light of human judgment.123 Justinian’s Digest contains a general definition of jus as that which is “always equitable and good” (semper aequum ac bonum).124 Cicero in a letter to Atticus uses the same construction of fas and jus to refer to everything that is right according both to divine and human reckoning.125 Natural law (jus naturale) and long-standing custom (mos) thus stand in the opening lines of the Decretum as representatives of these two overarching groupings of everything that is right and good, from both the perspective of God (fas, rooted in the nature of things or natural law) and man (jus, rooted in human determinations of what is right or of long-standing customs). Both sides of this coin of what is right and good must be examined to determine a rule and measure for conduct. Man is ruled by both natural law and custom, fas and jus. Gratian gives a specific example to illustrate the need to consult both types of law for a complete answer: human law (lex humana) might prohibit something that could be permissible by divine law (lex divina). Passing through another’s field may be permitted by divine law (fas), but prohibited by human ordinance (ius).

Thus, for a complete understanding of the rule and measure of human action, both groupings of law must be consulted. In this vein, Justinian’s Digest defines jurisprudence (the wisdom of law) as “the knowledge of divine and human things, and the knowledge of justice and injustice.”126 Natural law is a component of a dual system. To understand natural law, one must know it in this context.

As Gratian comments, this two-part division of law is itself subdivided into many species.127 This first category of law identified by Gratian, divine, contains the three types of law, which Aquinas calls eternal law (lex aeterna), natural law (lex naturalis), and divine law (lex divina), the last sometimes referred to as the law of the scriptures (lex scripturae). Each of these types has been promulgated directly by God. Gratian’s second category contains written statutes and long-standing customs, both promulgated by human lawgivers. Each of these species of law is epistemologically and jurisdictionally related to the others. One can understand neither one of these individual species nor the entire concept of law as a whole without understanding the essence of each species. Most contemporary jurisprudence proceeds on the assumption, stated or implied, that either (1) only the species contained under the heading “human law” exist and the others are not real, or (2) if the other species under “divine law” exist, knowledge of them is unnecessary to understanding human law. Classical jurisprudence rejects both assumptions. Simply because the trim carpenter cannot see the foundation or the wall studs does not mean they do not exist. At least some knowledge of the entire edifice is indispensable to anyone who works on or within its walls.

The eternal law is the most general and foundational element of the structure. It contains the definition of all created finite beings. Its precepts, legislated from the foundation of the world, determine the end or perfection of each substance and provide means for the attainment of that end. The eternal law does not directly tell rational creatures how to act. It rather invites rational creatures to participate in the determination of human action by electing means to the end established by eternal law. In this sense, eternal law limits action by limiting the end of human action. The natural law is deeply connected to the eternal law and provides precepts orienting rational beings to their end established by the eternal law. The precepts of natural law provide generally worded principles of action that orient freely chosen human action to the perfection of human nature. Natural law precepts thus rise up out of the eternal law as the frame of a building rises out of the foundation. A frame gives more concrete definition to the structure of a building, which is constrained by the footprint of the foundation. Yet, the frame only generally defines the final appearance of the building. Many more details will determine it. Likewise, the natural law, by identifying hierarchically related ends of various aspects of human nature, provides more direction for electing means to attain the end of human nature. Yet, these precepts of natural law by their very design require further determination or specification, which specification is left to legal authorities, personal superiors, and individual persons, depending upon the nature and effect of the particular action contemplated. Human beings thus participate in making specific laws or rules of action at varying levels depending upon the circumstances. Likewise, artisans and craftsmen add detailed work and decoration to a frame to give the structure its final appearance.

To decorate the legal structure, practitioners of the legal craft must understand the eternal and natural law to know what it is they are decorating. This knowledge is not merely interesting but essential. Even the pagan philosopher Cicero understood that knowledge of these fundamental laws was necessary to the study and practice of law. In De Legibus, which is written as a dialogue, Atticus and Quintus want Cicero to begin discussing the details of the civil laws of Rome. Cicero responds that he cannot start a discourse on law at that point. First the most basic truths about human nature and the purpose of human existence must be understood:

You must understand that there is no subject for discussion in which it can be made so clear what nature has given to humans; what a quantity of wonderful things the human mind embraces; for the sake of performing and fulfilling what function we are born and brought into the world; what serves to unite people; and what natural bond there is among them. Once we have explained these things, we can find the source of laws and of justice.128

Atticus then objects that in this plan of discourse Cicero is departing from the common practice that the understanding of law should be drawn from the “praetor’s edict . . . or from the Twelve Tables.”129 To which Cicero responds:

In this discussion we must embrace the whole subject of universal justice and law, so that what we call “civil law” will be limited to a small and narrow area. We must explain the nature of law, and that needs to be looked for in human nature; we must consider the legislation through which states ought to be governed; and then we must deal with the laws and decrees of peoples as they are composed and written, in which the so-called civil laws of our people will not be left out.130

Cicero understood that the study of law must begin with the most fundamental principles of human nature, which are known through the eternal and natural laws, but contemporary legal scholarship and education in American law schools limit themselves to cataloging, interpreting, and discussing the details of the edicts and other texts of civil law. If Cicero were alive today, he likely would say all of this work needs to follow and be subordinate to a knowledge of these higher laws.

Later Christian philosophers and jurists add to Cicero’s understanding a new font of knowledge. In addition to the eternal and natural law, which all rational creatures can come to know by use of their innate reason, God has promulgated a third type of law, referred to as the “divine law” or the “law of the scriptures.” One of the roles of the precepts of this type of law is to reveal principles of natural law more clearly. In addition to relying on our own, fallible reason to discover these fundamental laws, Gratian and Aquinas argue that we have direct access to them through revelation. Gratian makes this point clear in the opening passage of the Decretum when he introduces the division of law into natural law and long-standing custom. He explains that the natural law is contained in the Law (by which he means the law revealed in the Old Testament) and the Gospels, which he summarizes by quoting the Golden Rule (Matt. 7:12).131

Cicero’s insistence that we must start with cosmological and ontological truths, and later Christian jurists’ insistence that we must consult the divine law, before studying the details of civil laws raises an important question. The classical natural law tradition is rooted in a theological perspective. For the pagan philosophers and jurists this perspective was a vaguely articulated perspective, sometimes pantheist and sometimes a monotheist tendency, that transcended the popular polytheist religions of Greece and Rome. Upon the dawning of Christianity, the perspective shifted to a clearly articulated Christian theology. For Cicero, the eternal and natural laws had their origin in a vague supreme power in the universe. For Gratian and Aquinas, jurisprudence was firmly rooted in the soil of Christian theology, and the origin of all law was more than a cosmic force—it was a personal God who became incarnate to save mankind and make the contents of divinely promulgated law more clearly and widely known.

The question then arises for jurists who are committed to the natural law tradition but are living in a pluralist and largely secular and atheistic world: To what extent is belief in and knowledge of God (either vaguely as for Aristotle and Cicero, or as with the revealed God of the Trinity) a prerequisite to accepting, understanding, and using natural law in legal practice? We can sketch a preliminary answer here.

Scholars such as Michael S. Moore have argued that commitment to natural law jurisprudence is possible without any theological commitments. Unlike Moore, a professed atheist,132 Finnis clearly professes Christianity but argues that although one who accepts Christian revelation may understand the purpose and origin of natural law better than one who does not, Christian revelation and theological commitments are not necessary to come to know natural law or, in the nomenclature of Finnis, the principles of practical reason. Theological truths may be important to Finnis in other contexts, but they are not necessary to articulate his understanding of practical reason. On the other end of the spectrum from the claims of Moore and Finnis, Kai Nielsen has argued that “if there is no God or if we have only the God of the Deist, the classical natural law theory is absurd, for there will then be no providential governing of creation, no plan for man of which the natural law is a part.”133 Although Nielsen is no fan of classical natural law, his reading of Aquinas is more faithful to the Angelic Doctor than that of Finnis. Nielsen rightly sees that Aquinas’s, and hence all classical natural lawyers’, understanding of and justification for natural law is dependent upon specific theological (at least those of natural theology) claims: “For such [Aquinas’s] natural law theory to be justified, God, in fact, must exist; and it must be a further fact that God’s nature is essentially what Aquinas says it is.”134 Although on this point, and not on many others, I agree generally with Nielsen’s claim that at the end of the analysis God and particular aspects of His nature are ultimately indispensable to a complete justification for and understanding of natural law, my own answer, however, does add a nuanced distinction to Nielsen’s claim. The philosophers and jurists of antiquity demonstrate that one can come to know that natural and even eternal law exist and can come to know specific precepts thereof. Thus far, Finnis and Moore are correct that some knowledge of and argument in favor of natural law can be had without specific theological commitments. Yet, I will argue, owing to failures of both the human will and reason, a theologically neutered approach is ultimately incomplete and likely to persist in erroneous conclusions. One who follows the thread of natural law reasoning, because it argues from final ends, that is, teleology, must one day reach the question: From where did these final causes arise? Since these final causes as precepts of eternal law are an ordinance of reason, they must come from somebody’s reason. As Aquinas argues, to be law they must be promulgated by someone. Ultimately, a natural law jurist must confront this question. Likewise, anyone’s ability to accurately know all of those principles of natural law and, more to the point, correctly apply them to particular circumstances, is severely limited without recourse to divine law. The history of unjust and evil laws and legal regimes throughout history is evidence of the difficult work of knowing and correctly applying the principles of the natural law. Succeeding in this task without recourse to divine revelation is analogous to building an edifice without consulting an architect. The approach of Finnis to minimize the role of God in natural law jurisprudence may have some initial success and overcome the initial mocking of critics like Nielsen, but I argue it will be ultimately unsatisfactory.

Moore offers a categorization of different metaphysical foundations for a natural law that can be very useful in explaining my answer to this question. Moore first formulates a two-pronged, general definition of any form of natural law theory: “(1) there are objective moral truths; and (2) the truth of any legal proposition necessarily depends, at least in part, on the truth of some corresponding moral proposition(s).”135 This definition clearly distinguishes natural law jurisprudence from positivism because it requires that laws (legal propositions) have a relationship to truths outside of the legal system. Yet, according to Moore, different proponents of this relational view can have very different understandings of the nonlegal truths. Moore identifies four possibilities:

  1. Moral realists who hold that the nonlegal propositions to which law must relate really exist independently of both (1) what people think them to be (mind-independent) and (2) human conventions (convention-independent) regardless of whether those truths both exist naturally and are known naturally (or through some suprasensible faculty).
  2. Naturalist moral realists who hold that the nonlegal propositions to which law must relate really exist, are mind- and convention independent, and exist in the natural world and can be known by a natural power or faculty.
  3. A particular species of naturalist who holds that “a universal and discrete human nature” determines the content of the nonlegal moral truths to which legal propositions must relate.
  4. Religious tradition-grounded naturalists who hold that the “(human) mind- and convention-independent” nonlegal truths to which legal propositions must relate “depend on the natural fact of divine command.”136

I will argue that one can fully comprehend the essence of law (speculative knowledge) and have greater success in reaching good (meaning true) judgments about what human laws ought to contain (practical knowledge) only from a perspective that combines both the third and fourth categories. A jurist who accepts both the real, naturally existing moral truths and their ontological origin in and revelation by the mind of God will attain greater speculative and practical knowledge of law than one who approaches jurisprudence from one of the other limited perspectives. Classical antiquity demonstrates that philosophers and jurists such as Aristotle, Plato, and Cicero accepted a natural law philosophy and jurisprudence and had significant success in acquiring speculative and practical knowledge of the law. Yet, their advocacy for natural law was inchoate because they could not clearly articulate the attributes of its divine origin. Their work, despite its greatness in some areas, clearly contains conclusions about the content of natural law that are, in light of Christian revelation, strikingly false. Aristotle’s claim that slavery is a natural and good state for some is only one example. Augustine, Gratian, and Aquinas surpassed the achievements of the ancients because they had recourse to the fuller source of knowledge in revelation.

A critical difference between natural law jurisprudence undertaken from one of the first three perspectives (listed above) alone and the combination of the third and fourth is the same difference that John L. Hill identifies between Greek philosophy and Christian philosophy. The former “tries to explain the world by giving us a pattern, whereas Christianity gives us a Person.”137 The revelation of the three divine persons within God makes philosophy, and hence law, personal rather than merely conceptual. Classical natural law jurisprudence makes law personal in contrast not only to the jurisprudence of Hart and Raz but also to that of Moore and Finnis.

Notwithstanding this and other differences, one can certainly be persuaded to accept and practice aspects of natural law jurisprudence without necessarily accepting the theological commitments of the fourth category, and fruitful conversation and dialectic can occur among scholars coming from all four perspectives. Yet, the fourth perspective offers the most complete and successful approach to solving the epistemological problems inherent in unaided natural law jurisprudence. Although intelligent conversation is possible and fruitful among those coming from all four categories, the benefits to be gained from accepting the commitments of the fourth category should not be ignored and left out of the discussion simply for the sake of gaining wider acceptance for natural law jurisprudence. Since all of those who argue from the first three categories lack the ultimate metaphysical foundation for law (and all of reality), they can only reach a certain extent of knowledge. Those who tend to try to appeal to positivists (or other non–natural law jurists) by arguing exclusively from the first three metaphysical positions do a disservice to, and ultimately undermine the deep metaphysical grounding of, natural law jurisprudence. Ignoring or downplaying the metaphysical foundations ultimately leads to their dismissal. As Jonathan Crowe has observed, the result is that, for Finnis, law does not really have an ontology; it is merely a hermeneutic to explain and justify normative social practices.138

A deeper consideration of eternal, natural, divine, and human law is necessary to fully understand what is lost by abandoning this fourth type of natural law jurisprudence. The metaphysical and theological claims of the natural law tradition are ultimately the most unique contribution it can bring to jurisprudence and should therefore not be left out of the discussion.


115.          Gratian, DecretumD.1 (my translation of humanum genus duobus regitur, naturali uidelicet iure et moribus.)

116.          Ibid., D.1, C.1; my translation of omnes leges aut diuinae sunt, aut humanae. Diuinae natura, humanae moribus constant, ideoque he discrepant, quoniam aliae aliis gentibus placent. §1. Fas lex diuina est: ius lex humana. Transire per agrum alienum, fas est, ius non est.

117.          Huguccio Pisanus, Summa Decretorum, in Monumenta Iuris Canonici Series A: Corpus Glossatorum, vol. 6, ed. Oldřich Přerovský (Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, 2006), 13 (glossing naturali uidelicet iure as id est diuino); see also Huguccio, Derivationes, quoted in Stephan Kuttner, The History of Ideas and Doctrines of

Canon Law in the Middle Ages (London: Variorum Reprints, 1980), V, 99. Drawing a similar parallel between positive justice and natural justice, which he calls fas, Huguccio claims that iustitia positiva has been made by man whereas naturalis justitia is extended from the effects of nature.

118.          Huguccio, Summa Decretorum, 14: Quo nomine comprehenditur quodlibet ius humanum, id est ab homine inuentum.

119.          Gratian, The Treatise on Laws (Decretum DD. 1– 20), vol. 2, trans. Augustine Thompson and James Gordley (Washington, DC: Catholic University of America Press, 1993), Ordinary Gloss to D.1.

120.          See Charlton T. Lewis et al., A Latin Dictionary: Founded on Andrews’ Edition of Freund’s Latin Dictionary (Oxford: Clarendon, 1879) (defining fasas “belonging to the religious language, the dictates of religion, divine law; opposed to jus, or human law”). The following are examples of the use of the word in the Bible: audiebant autem eum usque ad hoc verbum et levaverunt vocem suam dicentes tolle de terra eiusmodi non enim fas est eum vivere (Acts 22:22, Vulg.)—“And they heard him until this word, and then lifted up their voice, saying: Away with such an one from the earth; for it is not fit that he should live” (Acts 22:22, DV); contigit autem et septem fratres cum matre adprehensos conpelli a rege contra fas ad carnes porcinas flagris et taureis cruciatos” (2 Macc. 7:1, Vulg.)—“It came to pass also, that seven brethren, together with their mother, were apprehended, and compelled by the king to eat swine’s flesh against the law, for which end they were tormented with whips and scourges” (2 Macc. 7:1, DV); hii vero qui intus erant confidentes in stabilitate murorum et adparatu alimoniarum remissius agebant maledictis lacessentes Iudam ac blasphemantes et loquentes quae fas non est (2 Macc. 12:14, Vulg.)—“But they that were within it, trusting in the strength of the walls, and the provision of victuals, behaved in a more negligent manner, and provoked Judas with railing and blaspheming, and uttering such words as were not to be spoken” (2 Macc. 12:14, DV).

121.          Huguccio, Summa Decretorum, 20– 21.

122.          See Kenneth Pennington, “Lex Naturalis and Ius Naturale,” The Jurist 68 (2008): 571–7 3.

123.          See Lewis, A Latin Dictionary (jus: “that which is binding or obligatory; that which is binding by its nature, rightjusticeduty”).

124.          Justinian, Digest 1.1.11.

125.          Cicero, Letters to Atticus 1.16.6, http://www.thelatinlibrary.com/cicero /att1.shtml#6. Explaining how devastating it is to Rome when corrupt men render a wrong verdict, he says: triginta homines populi Romani levissimos ac nequissimos nummulis acceptis ius ac fas omne delere. The phrase sums up a complete obliteration of all rightness—ius ac fas.

126.          Justinian, Digest 1.1.10.2 (my translation of iuris prudentia est divinarum atque humanarum rerum notitia, iusti atque iniusti scientia).

127.          Gratian, DecretumD.1, C.1.

128.          Cicero, “On the Laws,” in On the Commonwealth and On the Laws, ed.

James E.G. Zetzel (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999), 110.

129.          Ibid., 110– 11.

130.          Ibid., 111.

131.          Gratian, DecretumD.1.

132.          See Michael S. Moore, “Good without God,” in Natural Law, Liberalism, and Morality, ed. Robert P. George (Oxford: Clarendon, 2001), 221– 70.

133.          Kai Nielson, “The Myth of Natural Law,” in Law and Philosophy: A Symposium, ed. Sidney Hook (New York: New York University Press, 1964), 129. 134. Ibid., 130.

135.         Michael S. Moore, “Law as a Functional Kind,” in Natural Law Theory: Contemporary Essays, ed. Robert P. George (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1992), 189– 90.

136.         Ibid., 190– 91.

137.         Hill, After the Natural Law, 55 (paraphrasing G.K. Chesterton). 138. Crowe, “Clarifying the Natural Law Thesis,” 168– 70.

The Josias Podcast, Episode XX: Eric Voegelin

Continuing a series of reflections on important 20th century critiques of modernity and liberalism that has included episodes on Alasdair MacIntyre’s After Virtue and Leo Strauss’s Natural Right and History, the editors are joined again by Gabriel Sanchez to discuss Eric Voegelin’s The New Science of Politics. They discuss Voegelin’s critique of positivism, the problem of representation, and the thesis that modernity is “gnostic”.

Bibliography

Music: Also sprach Zarathustra, by Richard Strauss.

Header Image: Photograph of a Tree in the Mist, by Pater Edmund

If you have questions or comments, please send them to editors(at)thejosias.com.

Follow us on Facebook and Twitter.

Many thanks to our generous supporters on Patreon, who enable us to pay for podcast hosting. If you have not yet joined them, please do so. You can set up a one-time or recurring donation in any amount. Even $1 a month would be splendid.

Introduction to Natural Law Jurisprudence (part 3)

By Professor Brian M. McCall

Adapted from ch. 1 of The Architecture of Law: Rebuilding Law in the Classical Tradition (Notre Dame Press 2018). Part 1 can be found here, part 2 here.


THE COMMON GOOD

The consideration thus far has continually referred to the end or object of human acts. We need to establish a few clarifications. The end or object of human activity is incorporated into the definition of law in the phrase “for the common good.” This part of the definition indicates the purpose of law: it answers the question, “Why does law exist?” Law exists to orient human actions to their common natural end. Law is a rule and measure that directs the human intellect and will toward the object or end that is common to all human beings. Yet, like the false dichotomy between law and morality, the term “common good” can be misunderstood as in opposition to the individual end, the object of the life of an individual human being. Like the false dichotomy between law and morality, we will see that there is no dichotomy between common and individual good: they are parts of the same whole.

Continue reading “Introduction to Natural Law Jurisprudence (part 3)”

Introduction to Natural Law Jurisprudence (part 2)

By Professor Brian M. McCall

Adapted from ch. 1 of The Architecture of Law: Rebuilding Law in the Classical Tradition (Notre Dame Press 2018). Part 1 can be found here.


THE DEFINITION OF LAW AS A DIALECTIC AMONG REASON, COMMAND, AND CUSTOM

Harold Berman once described three modes of jurisprudence: positivist (will of lawgiver), natural law (expression of moral principles as understood by reason), and historicist (law as a development of custom).26 For Berman, all three are necessary elements of law, as all three are intrinsic to all being. He explains:

Will, reason, memory—these are three interlocking qualities, St. Augustine wrote, in the mind of the triune God, who implanted them in the human psyche when He made man and woman in His own image and likeness. Like the persons of the Trinity itself, St. Augustine wrote, the three are inseparable and yet distinct. He identified will (voluntas) with purpose and choice, reason (intelligentia) with knowledge and understanding, and memory (memoria) with being—that is, the experience of time. . . . Their applicability to law is particularly striking, for law is indeed a product of will, reason, and memory—of politics, morality, and history—all three.27

Continue reading “Introduction to Natural Law Jurisprudence (part 2)”

Introduction to Natural Law Jurisprudence (part 1)

By Professor Brian M. McCall

Adapted from Chapter 1 of The Architecture of Law: Rebuilding Law in the Classical Tradition (Notre Dame Press 2018).


Summum jus, summa injuria.
The greater the law the higher the injury.1

With these words the great Roman orator Cicero warned against the dangers of an exaggerated exaltation of human law. His words take on a new poignancy in light of much contemporary jurisprudence. Not only have human positive laws grown exponentially in their number and scope, but the dominant theory of legal positivism has exalted the place of human positive law by building an entire system of law upon it alone. Human made law has come to be viewed as self-referential, self-justified, and essentially self-restrained. Classical natural law jurisprudence understood human law to be merely one part within a grand hierarchical edifice of laws. Human-made positive law is the detailed and varied decoration that brings into clearer view the lines, structure, and foundation of a larger legal edifice. This structure is organized and held together by a frame, or universal principles, and erected on a firm ontological foundation.

Continue reading “Introduction to Natural Law Jurisprudence (part 1)”

Catholicism and the Natural World

by Thomas Storck


Editorial Note: This article was originally published in 1999 in The Catholic Faith, vol. 5, no. 6, November/December 1999, as a commentary on Numbers 337-344 and 2415-2418 of the Catechism of the Catholic Church. It has only become more relevant with time.


 The Vatican’s issuance of the Catechism of the Catholic Church, first in French in 1992, and in English translation in 1994, was an important event in the history of the Church in the twentieth century. The Catechism has proved a helpful tool not only for the New Evangelization, but also for instructing those who are already Catholics, who in view of the widespread crisis of belief that has followed the Second Vatican Council are greatly in need of an authoritative restatement of their religion. For unless Catholics are catechized by the Church, they will assuredly be catechized by the world. Our minds are continually being formed, or misformed, and it is the ideas that result from this that ultimately govern our conduct. As Father John Hardon has written, “All the evil in the world begins with error. Or, more personally, all sin in the human heart begins as untruth in the human mind.”[1] Too often we take in uncritically notions from the culture around us, many of which are at variance with Catholic truth. In the turmoil occasioned by the Council, catechetics have declined to the point that very many Catholics have little or no knowledge of their religion, but even among those Catholics who take pains to preserve their orthodoxy there are generally areas in which the ideas that govern their actions are not in accord with the teaching of the Church. This is most likely to occur in matters where we are scarcely aware that there is any authoritative Catholic teaching, especially in those areas which transcend personal and individual morality and concern mankind organized as a community, such as the morality of economic life. It is such a subject that I wish to take up in this essay, namely the question of our proper attitude and conduct toward the natural order, toward the created or natural environment around us. In this area, as in so many others, it seems that the Devil sponsors two opposite errors, for the world offers us two competing outlooks, both of which are wrong. In reacting against the one that seems most wrong to us, we are apt to embrace the other, so, for example, as we rightly reject the New Age account of nature, we are in danger of embracing an ideology rooted in Cartesianism or Deism, which is equally opposed both to the explicit teaching of the Church as well as to the perennial philosophy of St. Thomas Aquinas. The remedy for this is knowledge, knowledge of what the Church teaches in these areas, and a docile spirit toward her authority. In this article therefore I will explicate certain paragraphs of the Catechism that deal with the visible created order or nature, and man’s relations with that order. We will see that there is definite Catholic teaching on this subject and thus a distinct Catholic way of dealing with it. And far from being something remote from our lives, this teaching is in fact of great importance for how we live, and especially for how our society conducts itself.

The Catechism’s discussion of the natural creation takes place within its exposition of the Creed or Profession of Faith. After speaking of God as “Creator of heaven and earth” and of “all that is seen and unseen” (325), it then goes on to speak of the angelic order, and finally of the visible world. Let us look at the paragraphs that deal with this.

No. 337. God himself created the visible world in all its richness, diversity, and order. Scripture presents the work of the Creator symbolically as a succession of six days of divine “work,” concluded by the “rest” of the seventh day. On the subject of creation, the sacred text teaches the truths revealed by God for our salvation, permitting us to “recognize the inner nature, the value, and the ordering of the whole of creation to the praise of God.”

No. 338. Nothing exists that does not owe its existence to God the Creator. The world began when God’s word drew it out of nothingness; all existent beings, all of nature, and all human history are rooted in this primordial event, the very genesis by which the world was constituted and time begun.

One of the major points separating Catholics, and indeed all Christians, as well as Jews and Moslems, from much of the rest of the world, is the question of creation. Where did the perceptible world about us come from? In antiquity many people held that the world had always existed, or that the world was an emanation from God, not a creation by God. This latter is akin to pantheism, the belief that the world is a part of God or indistinguishable from God. Today Hinduism and other east Asian religions, for example, either explicitly or implicitly accept pantheism,[2] and contemporary New Age writers usually embrace similar ideas.[3] Even the current scientific theory of the Big Bang, though it has certain resemblances to the idea of a creation, supposes some matter to have existed before the Big Bang, and thus, unlike what is required by the Catholic faith, it is not creation out of nothing.

While rejecting pantheism, or any notion that the world is an emanation from God, we must also reject Deism. Superficially the Deistic concept of creation looks like the Catholic concept, but in fact they are essentially different. The paradigm of Deistic creation and the Deistic God is the Watchmaker. Though sometimes used by Protestant Christians, and even by Catholics, the notion of God as the Watchmaker has serious defects for a true Theism, since the God of Deism is essentially one who creates, but then walks away from his creation, while the true God, the God both of true philosophy and of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, both creates and continuously upholds his creation in being. As Ronald Knox wrote,

Paley’s metaphor of the watch once for all wound up is, of course, the classic illustration of this Deist conception. It represents God as having made the universe, but not as guiding it from moment to moment, still less as actually holding it in being.[4]

A better (but still inadequate) physical image for God and his creation than the watchmaker and the watch is the electric generator and the light bulb, for the light bulb depends on the generator not only for the beginning of its operation but also for its continuing to provide light, while the watchmaker makes the watch, winds it up, and then is free to go away.

Moreover, the concept of miracles was difficult or impossible to fit into the Deistic universe, for if their God simply made the watch, wound it up and went away, how could the course of this mechanical creation ever deviate from its predetermined path? Even the idea of God’s providence, of God hearing and answering our prayers, while perhaps not absolutely incompatible with Deism,[5] is foreign to its spirit, for it is hard to see how the Deistic God has any continuing interest in his workmanship. And though Deism is a heresy most characteristic of the eighteenth century, Deistic attitudes are still active today, as we will see below.

 Since the Catechism speaks of the “six days” of creation, it might be well to mention the controversial but related questions of the literal reading of the early chapters of Genesis and of the evolution of species. Protestant fundamentalists hold that the six days of Genesis must be interpreted literally, and thus they necessarily reject the theory of the evolution of all organic beings from one or a few primeval one-celled creatures over long aeons of time. Catholics have never been required to accept the first chapters of Genesis literally,[6] but it does not follow from this that the theory of evolution is true either. It is possible to reject both the fundamentalist view of Genesis without at the same time accepting organic evolution, for there is much purely scientific evidence that casts doubt upon macroevolution, without requiring a literal understanding of the early chapters of Genesis.[7]

No. 339. Each creature possesses its own particular goodness and perfection. For each one of the works of the “six days” it is said: “And God saw that it was good.” “By the very nature of creation, material being is endowed with its own stability, truth, and excellence, its own order and laws.” Each of the various creatures, willed in its own being, reflects in its own way a ray of God’s infinite wisdom and goodness. Man must therefore respect the particular goodness of every creature, to avoid any disordered use of things which would be in contempt of the Creator and would bring disastrous consequences for human beings and their environment.

“Each creature possesses its own particular goodness and perfection” and “Each of the various creatures, willed in its own being, reflects in its own way a ray of God’s infinite wisdom and goodness.” In these two sentences we have a perfect summary of the Catholic doctrine on and attitude toward the created order of natures. Without denying that mankind is the crown and ruler of creation, nevertheless the individual beings of the plant and animal kingdoms, even rocks and minerals, have a perfection of their own and reflect “a ray of God’s infinite wisdom and goodness.”

 As St. Thomas Aquinas explains in article 3 of question 5 of the Summa Theologiae, something is called bad only if it lacks what is proper to it, “as a man is called bad insofar as he lacks virtue, and an eye is called bad insofar as it lacks sharpness of sight.” We call a car that runs well, for example, a good car, and one whose engine is broken, bad (not morally bad, of course). So therefore everything that God has created has its own goodness, simply in itself, regardless of how it may benefit mankind. But if we forget this truth, we are apt to take a view of the rest of creation that looks on it much as a Deist might – they are simply external objects, like the watch, with no relation to God. For if the watchmaker simply makes the watch and then goes away, the watch not only displays no dependence on its maker, and thus no special relation to him, but is simply a neutral object which we may treat any way we choose. The watch is an essentially secular object, that is, divorced from God. In the Deistic universe, the world of natures is a world (apart from its origins) that exists on its own.  Its God is far from it, and it awaits (should we so choose) our exploitation.

 In a volume that contains much just criticism of the Green movement’s attitudes toward man and the natural order, The Cross and the Rain Forest,[8] two of the book’s authors, Robert Whelan and Joseph Kirwan, seem to regard the natural order in this Deistic way. Whelan criticizes those who regard a tree “as more than just a source of wood” (p. 40), and Kirwan seems to raise difficulties over whether animals should be called “creatures” or simply “things” (pp. 114-15). These sorts of attitudes have been common in the Western world for some time, even among those, such as Catholics, who should have known better, and since error tends to breed error, the reaction against the Deistic way of looking at the earth and the other creatures who live on it is in part the reason for the absurdities and immoralities of the Green and other movements that reject traditional Christianity.[9] As Catholics we must try to make our attitude toward our fellow creatures that of Holy Scripture, which eloquently speaks of animals, plants and even ice and snow or clouds and lightning, as praising God simply by their existence.[10]

No. 340. God wills the interdependence of creatures. The sun and the moon, the cedar and the little flower, the eagle and the sparrow: the spectacle of their countless diversities and inequalities tells us that no creature is self-sufficient.  Creatures exist only in dependence on each other, to complete each other, in the service of each other.

 The system of “interdependence of creatures” is what we generally call nature. Nature is simply the system of natures. Each created thing, sun and moon, large tree and little flower, has what we call a nature, that is, a whatness: each is a distinct and different kind of thing. As we saw above, it is by being itself in its own integrity that a thing is good. But none of these individual goods exists entirely by or for itself, “no creature is self-sufficient.” Thus even though each created thing praises God simply by existing, they also exist “in the service of each other.” Plants make use of the sun, rain and minerals from the soil; animals eat plants and other animals and use wood or grass or sand to make nests or other dwellings. So while it is good to allow animals and plants to live their own life, for of themselves they praise God, it is also good to cut down trees to construct buildings needed for mankind’s use or to eat plants and animals, since they exist also to serve us and each other. According to the Deistic concept of creation, created things would exist solely for our use, and even for our misuse. But since each created thing praises God by being itself, we cannot use them except in our genuine service and for our genuine welfare. It is as if we employed a servant who, whenever he was not actually serving us, spent his time worshipping before the Blessed Sacrament. Would we dare call him from this holy work to help us in something immoral or even frivolous? We can consider our use of the natural world analogously. Since each created thing blesses and praises God in its natural state, simply by existing, we ought not to take away that praise from God unless we have good reason. For natural things are not simply at our disposal, but exist “to complete each other, in the service of each other.” If we use them for frivolous reasons, or for things which ultimately are harmful to human society, then we are not using them in our service, but to our hurt. The mere piling up of consumer goods, the spending of huge sums on unworthy objects, our insatiable appetite for amusements – are any of these sufficiently important to justify our taking away things of the natural order from their work of praising God? As Pope John Paul wrote in Centesimus Annus:

It is not wrong to want to live better; what is wrong is a style of life which is presumed to be better when it is directed towards “having” rather than “being,” and which wants to have more, not in order to be more but in order to spend life in enjoyment as an end in itself. (no. 36)

The gravity of sin involved in misusing natural objects doubtless depends on many factors, but one can hardly deny the existence of some sin.

No. 341. The beauty of the universe: The order and harmony of the created world results from the diversity of beings and from the relationships which exist among them. Man discovers them progressively as the laws of nature. They call forth the admiration of scholars. The beauty of creation reflects the infinite beauty of the Creator and ought to inspire the respect and submission of man’s intellect and will.

   The Catechism here reflects what men for centuries have concluded when they examined carefully the cosmos. Aristotle wrote concerning knowledge of animals:

For if some [animals] have no graces to charm the sense, yet even these, by disclosing to intellectual perception the artistic spirit that designed them, give immense pleasure to all who can trace links of causation, and are inclined to philosophy.[11]

This ability to “trace links of causation,” as well as our perception of the “beauty of creation” ought to lead any unprejudiced person to recognize “the infinite beauty of the Creator,” and further “ought to inspire the respect and submission of [his] intellect and will.” As St. Paul wrote,

For what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them. Ever since the creation of the world his invisible nature, namely, his eternal power and deity, has been clearly perceived in the things that have been made. (Romans 1:19-20)

The fact that many today see the things that God has made and yet, not being able or willing to “trace links of causation,” fail to see the Creator, certainly calls into question our notion of the superiority of our civilization over all past ages. Centuries of bad philosophy and bad education have rendered modern man less capable of true philosophical insight and perception of beauty than our supposedly rude ancestors. A comparison between a church built in the Middle Ages and nearly any church built in the last forty or fifty years should be sufficient to show which civilization is really superior.

No. 342. The hierarchy of creatures is expressed by the order of the “six days,” from the less perfect to the more perfect.  God loves all his creatures and takes care of each one, even the sparrow. Nevertheless, Jesus said: “You are of more value than many sparrows,” or again: “Of how much more value is a man than a sheep!”

No. 343. Man is the summit of the Creator’s work, as the inspired account expresses by clearly distinguishing the creation of man from that of the other creatures.

It is necessary to make very careful distinctions in commenting on these passages in order to avoid the errors which lurk on each side of truth. On the one hand are those who deny that man has any special place in creation. For example, the organization Earth First!, in one of its proposals stated that

the central idea of Earth First! is that humans have no divine right to subdue the Earth, that we are merely one of several million forms of life on this planet. We reject even the notion of benevolent stewardship as that implies dominance.[12]

In 1987 two Earth First! members held up a banner at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C. that proclaimed “EQUAL RIGHTS FOR ALL SPECIES.”[13] Such notions, if interpreted literally, are contrary to what God has revealed. But I fear that in some cases people have reacted not against the Catholic and biblical teaching on man’s place in the cosmos but against a distorted version of it. This Deistic deformation of truth seemed to allow mankind to do absolutely anything to the earth and the other creatures living on it, with no object except man’s short-term gain. This of course is not what the Church teaches, as the Catechism makes very clear, for the fact that man is the “summit of the Creator’s work” does not mean that everything he desires to do with the natural world is good. For the desires that flow from the heart of fallen man are not all for the good or for the glory of God. Therefore we cannot cloak man’s frequent misuse of the natural creation under the truth that we have been commanded by God to subdue the earth, for God has not given us authority to do absolutely anything we may want with the created cosmos.

No. 344. There is a solidarity among all creatures arising from the fact that all have the same Creator and are all ordered to his glory.[14]

In human affairs solidarity is equated with social charity by Pope John Paul.[15] Obviously we cannot have charity toward plants or irrational animals, but we can have something akin or analogous to it. We can treat them as, in a way, our brothers who join us in praising God and “are all ordered to his glory.” That is, instead of looking on the natural world as something alien or other, something neutral or passive, something waiting for us to use or shape, we can see that world as alive with praise of God. This is not pantheism or an unChristian worship of the natural order. It is simply a realization of what is proclaimed in Holy Scripture and explicitly reiterated in the Catechism. Again, this does not mean that we cannot use these natural creatures and objects, but it does mean that even as we use we ought to use with reverence, we ought to realize that they are ordered not just to our use and benefit but directly to God also. Then we can speak of a true solidarity of creatures, a solidarity that will be ultimately crowned when “all things are subjected to him” and “the Son himself will also be subjected to him who put all things under him, that God may be everything to every one” (I Corinthians 15:28).[16]

Let us now look at a later section in the Catechism which takes up the topic of man’s treatment of the natural world in more detail and from the standpoint of the commandments.

No. 2415. The seventh commandment enjoins respect for the integrity of creation. Animals, like plants and inanimate beings, are by nature destined for the common good of past, present, and future humanity. Use of the mineral, vegetable, and animal resources of the universe cannot be divorced from respect for moral imperatives. Man’s dominion over inanimate and other living beings granted by the Creator is not absolute; it is limited by concern for the quality of life of his neighbor, including generations to come; it requires a religious respect for the integrity of creation.

No. 2416. Animals are God’s creatures. He surrounds them with his providential care. By their mere existence they bless him and give him glory. Thus men owe them kindness. We should recall the gentleness with which saints like St. Francis of Assisi or St. Philip Neri treated animals.

No. 2417. God entrusted animals to the stewardship of those whom he created in his own image. Hence it is legitimate to use animals for food and clothing. They may be domesticated to help man in his work and leisure. Medical and scientific experimentation on animals is a morally acceptable practice if it remains within reasonable limits and contributes to caring for or saving human lives.

No. 2418. It is contrary to human dignity to cause animals to suffer or die needlessly. It is likewise unworthy to spend money on them that should as a priority go to the relief of human misery. One can love animals; one should not direct to them the affection due only to persons.

 This second set of paragraphs is from part three of the Catechism, “Life in Christ,” which deals with Christian moral life. The paragraphs here are from a discussion of the Seventh Commandment, You Shall Not Steal. For to misuse any created thing is surely to take what does not belong to us, since all creation belongs to God and is granted to us for our use, not our misuse.

 This section of the Catechism sets forth the dual truth about created natures: they have an integrity, and thus a goodness, of their own, “their mere existence” blesses and glorifies God, but yet at the same time they are “entrusted…to [our] stewardship” and “destined for the common good of…humanity.” The limits of our use of animals, and even plants, however, lie not only in the effect of such use on mankind, but in “a religious respect for the integrity of creation,” and in the kindness we “owe” them. We may safely assume, however, that we are not violating this “kindness” as long as we use animals and plants for the true welfare of mankind. But the mere piling up of goods, as we saw above, is likely to be a misuse rather than a use.

 But unfortunately, this is exactly what modern man does. For example, in the United States, as the average family size has declined, the average size of new houses built has increased. In 1970 the average size of a new single-family home was 1,500 square feet; by 1996 it had increased to 2,120 square feet. In 1970 the average family size was 3.58 persons; in 1996 it was 3.20 persons.[17] In many other areas what our fathers considered luxuries are now items of daily use, or have even been surpassed. In fact, our economic system even requires such a continual and irrational consuming in order to stave off economic disaster, and unless corporate profits are increasing, businessmen are likely to be dissatisfied. But I fear that most of us do not even think to include these sorts of things in an examination of conscience, forgetting St. Paul’s dictum, “There is great gain in godliness with contentment; for we brought nothing into the world, and we cannot take anything out of the world; but if we have food and clothing, with these we shall be content” (I Timothy 6:6-8). Since we have much more than “food and clothing,” perhaps we should be content with that.

The Catechism states that “Medical and scientific experimentation on animals is a morally acceptable practice if it remains within reasonable limits and contributes to caring for or saving human lives.” Yet many experiments on animals are conducted not for saving lives, but for testing cosmetics. It would seem hard to reconcile this kind of testing, which is often very cruel, with the “solidarity” and the “kindness” we should have for animals.[18]

The principles that ought to govern our attitude and conduct toward the created order of natures that are stated in the Catechism and in Holy Scripture, if carefully followed, are able to bring about behavior that neither exploits and misuses animals and plants nor, on the other hand, that abdicates man’s role as steward of creation. To desire to have as little effect on the natural life and environment of animals and plants, consistent with real human needs, is not to embrace a romantic attitude toward the natural world. Rather it is to remember that “by their mere existence” animals “bless [God] and give him glory” and that each of God’s creations “reflects in its own way a ray of God’s infinite wisdom and goodness.” Every one of man’s works must be in response to some genuine human need, or truly enhance the life of man, not just add useless gadgets or otherwise contribute to our fascination with what is new. A more sober use of created things would lead to an attitude more akin to the solidarity that we are to have with all creatures. It is a worthy effort of Catholics to promote such solidarity in order to change the often wasteful and profligate way that mankind lives.

 As I said previously, Satan promotes error in pairs, so that there will always be two warring camps, both zealously championing positions that are flawed, and both keenly aware of what is wrong with their opponent’s point of view, but blind to what is wrong with their own. And in the modern world, too often Satan has managed to divide Catholics between these two camps. The only remedy, the only means by which we can escape this bitter but sterile secular warfare, is by obtaining an understanding of what the Church really teaches. Usually we will find that it coincides with neither of these two camps. And this is the case with the subject I have discussed here, our treatment of the environment. If we embrace what the Church teaches in Holy Scripture, in the Catechism and in other magisterial documents, then we can have some hope of avoiding being consigned to one of the two dreary secular camps. If we have some vision of the fullness of Catholic life and thought, then we can rejoice in our “solidarity [with] all creatures” at the same time as we recognize that we are the “summit of the Creator’s work.” Only thus can we ourselves contribute to the “beauty…order and harmony of the created world” and render it a more fitting gift to be placed at the feet of him, who is both “the image of the invisible God” and “the first-born of all creation” in whom “all things were created in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible,” (Colossians 1:15-16) and who one day will return to judge mankind and renew all things in himself.


    [1].  John A. Hardon, Spiritual Life in the Modern World (Boston : St. Paul Editions, c. 1982) p. 36.

    [2].  “God and the Self are one…. God dwells within you always. Furthermore, if you look carefully within yourself at the in-dwelling Lord, you’ll discover that you are nothing but that – that your body is nothing but a coalescing of that divine, creative power.”

    Comparing us and the Divine to waves and the ocean the author continues: “You arise and subside quickly – just like that – out of, and back into, the Divine.” And a little later: “…the essence of all Life is really only one thing.” From The Breath of God by Swami Chetanananda (Portland, Oregon : Rudra Press, c. 1988) pp. 2-4.

    See also Ainslie T. Embree, ed., The Hindu Tradition (New York : Vintage, c. 1966) pp. 10, 23-24 and Jacques Maritain, An Introduction to Philosophy (London : Sheed & Ward, 1947) pp. 21-22.

    [3].  “Because the goddess is portrayed as an immanent deity, one who is in nature and inseparable from it, it is not transparently clear how she could have created it. And indeed, creation stories play a less important role in feminist spirituality than they do in many other religions. On the rare occasions when a creation story is told, it is a story of birth.” Cynthia Eller, Living in the Lap of the Goddess: The Feminist Spirituality Movement in America (New York : Crossroad, c. 1993) p. 138.

    [4].  The Belief of Catholics (Garden City, N.Y. : Image, 1958) pp. 62-63.

    [5].  Since one can argue that even the Deistic God, being outside of time, perhaps could have arranged his creation from the beginning to take account of the prayers that would later be addressed to him.

    [6].  Among many possible sources, see the decisions of the Pontifical Biblical Commission, “On the Historical Character of the First Three Chapters of Genesis,” June 30, 1909, especially nos. 7 and 8; and the letter of the Pontifical Biblical Commission to Cardinal Suhard, Archbishop of Paris, on the literary form of the first eleven chapters of Genesis, January 16, 1948, both reprinted in Rome and the Study of Scripture (St. Meinrad, Indiana : Grail, rev. ed. 1962), pp. 122-24, 150-153.

    [7].  There are many works criticizing evolution from a purely scientific standpoint and the following list is very far from exhaustive: Norman Macbeth, Darwin Retried (Boston : Gambit, 1971); Henry M. Morris, ed., Scientific Creationism [Public School edition] (San Diego : Creation-Life, c. 1974); Michael Denton, Evolution: A Theory in Crisis (Bethesda, Md. : Adler & Adler, 1986); Phillip E. Johnson, Darwin on Trial (Washington : Regnery Gateway, 1991).

    [8].  Grand Rapids, Mich. : Acton Institute, c. 1996.

    [9].  In Living in the Lap of the Goddess, Cynthia Eller quotes Elizabeth Dodson Gray on “patriarchal religion.” “The goal of this old `sacred game’ is to get away from the ordinary, the natural, the `unsacred’ – away from women, fleshly bodies, decaying nature, away from all that is rooted in mortality and dying. `Up, up and away’ is the cry of this religious consciousness as it seeks to ascend to the elevated realm of pure spirit and utter transcendence where nothing gets soiled, or rots, or dies” (p. 136). Here is a mistaken identification between Deism and true Christianity. The God of Catholicism took flesh in the womb of a woman, nursed at her breasts, lived among us, sanctified a marriage feast by changing water into wine, and died a horrible death on a cross, his body smeared with sweat and blood. To the extent that Catholics have failed to emphasize the “earthy” aspects of the Faith, we seemed to have nothing to offer to those who rightly disdained a religion of “pure spirit and utter transcendence.” One obvious antidote to such an over-spiritual Catholicism is meditation on the mysteries of the Rosary, all of which, in one way or another, are concerned with earthly life, the body, conception, birth or death. The Rosary surely exhibits a religion that is very much involved with what “gets soiled or rots or dies.”

    [10].  See especially Psalm 148 and Daniel 3:57-81.

    [11].  On the Parts of Animals, book I, chapter 5.

    [12].  Quoted in Christopher Manes, Green Rage : Radical Environmentalism and the Unmaking of Civilization (Boston : Little, Brown, c. 1990) p. 74.

    [13].  Ibid., p. 166.

    [14].  This Catechism paragraph concludes with a quotation from St. Francis which is omitted here on account of its length.

    [15].  Encyclical Centesimus Annus, no. 10. See also the Catechism, no. 1939, where it is also equated with friendship.

    [16].  One can also see our Lady’s Assumption and Coronation as a kind of crowning of the natural order, for her body was nourished by the plants and animals of the created cosmos.

    [17].  Statistical Abstract of the United States, 1997 (Washington : Government Printing Office, 1997), tables 66 and 1187.

    [18].  Even Joseph Kirwan, one of the authors I criticized above for having an attitude toward the created order akin to Deism, opines that experimentation on animals “for cosmetic purposes” is morally unacceptable. The Cross and the Rain Forest, pp. 118-19.

    Worth consulting also is the short essay by C. S. Lewis, “Vivisection,” reprinted in God in the Dock (Grand Rapids : William B. Eerdmans, c. 1970) pp. 224-228.

L’amore come principio di comunicazione nel bene

Peter A. Kwasniewski


1. L’antinomia contemporanea

È un ben noto assioma dell’ etica tomistica che, qualunque bene si ami, lo si ama come bene proprio (bonum suum). Ma allora come può esservi una vera extasis, un vero andare fuori da se stessi per amore di un altro?[1] Come può esservi autentico amore dell’ altro per l’altro? L’amore non si riduce a egoismo? E l’unica alternativa pratica o teorica non sarebbe l’altruismo, cioè una sorta di spontaneo donare agli altri senza alcun riferimento a sestessi e al proprio bene?

Continue reading “L’amore come principio di comunicazione nel bene”

The Josias Podcast, Episode XIX: Justice

Justice, according to St. Thomas, is the perpetual and constant will to render each one his right. Distributive justice, commutative justice, potential parts, quasi-integral parts, debt, cannibalism—in this episode, the editors cover it all.

Bibliography

Music: “An die Musik, by Franz Schubert, performed by Matthias Goerne (baritone) and Helmut Deutsch (piano).

Header Image: Circles in a Circle (1923), by Wassily Kandinsky (detail).

If you have questions or comments, please send them to editors(at)thejosias.com.

Follow us on Facebook and Twitter.

Many thanks to our generous supporters on Patreon, who enable us to pay for podcast hosting. If you have not yet joined them, please do so. You can set up a one-time or recurring donation in any amount. Even $1 a month would be splendid.

The Josias Podcast, Episode XVIII: Revenge

The Josias Editors discuss punishment and the good of order in a teleological universe.

Bibliography

Music: “Bin ich nun frei Wirklich frei,” Das Rheingold, Richard Wagner. Vienna Philharmonic, George Solti, Gustav Neidlinger as Alberich.

Header Image: Alberich, by Arthur Rackham.

If you have questions or comments, please send them to editors(at)thejosias.com.

Follow us on Facebook and Twitter.

Many thanks to our generous supporters on Patreon, who enable us to pay for podcast hosting. If you have not yet joined them, please do so. You can set up a one-time or recurring donation in any amount. Even $1 a month would be splendid.