The Philosophical Basics of the Resurrection

Courtesy of WikiPaintings.org

Probably of all my classes at Our Lady’s University, none had me more attentive than my course on St. Thomas Aquinas’ account of human nature, taught by Dr. John O’Callaghan. Unfortunately, this was my first formal exposure to the philosophy of St. Thomas, and as a 4000 level course, I do not think I got the most out of it. I had taken a course on Aristotle’s ethical theory the semester before, but though these two great minds were similar in worldview, Aristotle’s pagan terminology and approach was nowhere near a proper introduction to Thomas’ intellectually mammoth rational constructions.

Despite this, I did benefit from this study, and as I have only and always been interested in acquiring the truth and never in spouting off any philosopher’s theories word-for-word, this was not an insignificant benefit. One thing that really fascinated me during my study of Aquinas’ philosophy of human nature was in terms of the resurrection.

As is the relationship between theology and philosophy, divine revelation can invariably be confirmed by human reason. The saying, “philosophy is the handmaiden of theology” springs to mind. Basically, if our understanding were to be laid out on a line spectrum with things we know from human reason and things we know from divine revelation, each would generally lie on either side of the spectrum and there would be a gap in between. This gap represents our lack of full understanding of the higher bits of knowledge, specifically those things divinely revealed to us, creating what we call “mysteries”. Divine revelation gives us those truths that would otherwise be impossible to reach solely with our own reason, though these truths are coherent with our own human reason. Everything divinely revealed can be confirmed with the same human reason that we use to work a math problem or organize a closet or make a gourmet meal.

The resurrection of the body promised by Christ at his Second Coming is just one of those things that, with a little Thomistic ontology, is completely reasonable to believe, though the particulars certainly remain a mystery. First, it is important to remember that we are human beings (don’t forget that definition), and “human being” is defined as a living body animated by a rational, immortal soul. Therefore, it is accurate to say that when John dies, John (the unified human being) ceases to exist because his soul is separated from his body. However, John’s essence, his soul, is immortal and survives the body.

So our soul lives on, separated from our body which decays and fades away with time. At this point, do our souls just remain in Heaven? It is eternal beatitude, after all, so what more could we want or need? Why does Christ promise that our souls will be reunited with our bodies in the Resurrection? Is that really necessary after achieving eternal beatitude?

I certainly cannot say what is divinely necessary, but I can definitely say that it’s perfectly reasonable that I should be reunited with my body after I die. In the state after death, our human nature is divided: our soul is in Heaven and our decomposing body remains on earth. But since we were created as human beings (body and soul) and not as angels who are purely spiritual and incorporeal beings, it would seem a little odd that we should spend eternity in such a divided state, especially when our bodies are an intrinsic part of our own creation and being. (if they were not, why should we bother caring for them in this life?)

As an analogy to illustrate this, a free-floating balloon is caught by a child and tied down. The balloon’s natural destiny is to float away into the sky, but here, it is separated from that destination and tied to the ground. If the balloon was meant to remain close to earth, why was it filled with a lighter-than-air gas to begin with? Similarly, it is our natural destiny to be unified, soul and body. When we die, our soul is separated from our body and allowed to take root in Heaven. If this were the end of the story, then why did God create us with bodies in the first place? It seems perfectly natural to believe, then, that the destiny of our human nature is to be unified, body and soul, in eternal beatitude with God after the Resurrection.

So our use of human reason confirms the revelation of the Resurrection. I am not suggesting that while in Heaven after death, we will in some way miss our physical bodies or feel uncomfortable without them. This would suggest that eternal beatitude is deficient in some way. But as it has been revealed to the human race, Divine Justice promises to return us to our bodies at the end of time, and this is at the very least is something we can partially understand.

The Going-Away Party

Maxwell had killed his sister. It was a pretty efficient murder at that; and Sir Maxwell Stewart prided himself on efficiency, whether it was with closing a business deal or doing away with nosy siblings. Although, the business deals were a significantly more common occurrence than the occasions that required the snuffing of relatives.

It had been efficient because she had consumed enough wine at his going away party that she did not feel the slight pin-prick of a syringe as it injected its lethal payload of insulin. Maxwell was a diabetic and his sister was not. The overdose had quietly put her to sleep on the sofa of the mansion's parlor. It did not take much.

The silent killing was also an excellent method of murder because it left no crime scene clues, should the body ever be found. There were no lacerations, no stab wounds, no bullet holes, no broken bones, or anything else of the gory and ghastly sort typically associated with the dark deed. She was indeed very old and by all appearances, it would seem that her poor, ailing heart had simply given out and her soul had flown to the heights of that holy Paradise.

Maxwell knew that it was her blood sugar, not her heart, that gave out, and that her soul was actually rotting in the circle of Hell reserved exclusively for prying, gossipy nannies. She had invented this grand conspiracy theory that his business empire was somehow built on lies and cheating, all claims were woefully unsubstantiated, of course. Doubtless she had concocted this inconceivable foolishness to tarnish his sterling reputation and ruin his going-away party. Maxwell had tolerated his sister's ignorance on a variety of other subjects, but it seemed to him hardly fair that he should suffer her vague fantasies of corruption and sleight-of-hand dealings when his good name was at stake.

However, his reputation was the furthest thing from his mind when this cake knife in his chest was the closest thing to his heart. James Ironsides, his American business rival, had put it there. Just like his business manners, Ironsides had no tact: no silent poisons or macabre premeditation. He just walks right up to you and plunges the cake knife unpretentiously into your chest. He did not even have the decency to wipe the icing from the blade.

Anyhow, things were beginning to feel very cold for Sir Maxwell. He could not tell if it was the two feet of snow in which he was lying or the icy caress of death stealing over him. Whichever the case, he was alone. Ironsides had not even had the decorum to gloat over his dying form. He could have at least thanked him for inviting him to the party, yes, thank you it truly is marvelous, is this wine a special vintage? of course, most excellent, are you finished with that cake knife? here Maxwell, let me pin this thank you note to your blazer with this cake knife, comfortable? well, I must be going, lovely party, let's do this again sometime.

But it was not so, and Maxwell felt the chill of his fate long before he arrived at that frozen circle of Hell reserved exclusively for dishonest, sibling-murdering businessmen.

A Guide to Making Friends, Pt. 2: Dealing with Rejection

This post is not necessarily meant as a sequel to my first post on developing friendships, but while writing it, I suppose that's what it became. In my long history of friendships, I've learned some incredibly valuable things. One thing is that when I talk about physics, I scare people away. Another thing is that you shouldn't be too eager to evangelize because people are turned off to that kind of thing. And also, that you can't pay people to be your friends (well, if you want them to be real friends that is).

However, I believe that all of my "lessons learned" don't hold a candle to the priceless understanding that I have acquired regarding rejection (specifically, with friendships, but romantic relationships can fit in here as well). No matter who you are, we've all experienced it.

So, you meet someone you really think is alot of fun (guy or girl, it doesn't matter). They seem to enjoy themselves and you think, "Gee, I'm really attracted to this person's fun-loving nature. I think I want to get to know him/her more." You talk for a little bit and if you're smart, you don't take this as a sure-fire sign that they like you already. They might be conversing with you out of politeness, but that's ok, you're not best buds yet.

Fast-forward a week. You want to get a group of people together or maybe you just want to hang out with this person for some one-on-one time. You call this person to see what they're up to and they say they're busy or maybe that they'll keep your invitation in mind as they figure out their evening/weekend plans. Ultimately, they decide to not hang out with you. And that's the same story for the following weekends until you just decide to give up on them.

Why do people do that?? They never get back to you, they never decide to hang out with you, and they may ignore you at all future gatherings. In other words, they're just really flaky and not committed to forming a friendship with you, despite there seeming to be some initial potential. Unfortunately, I still search for the answer to this question, but my gut tells me that it varies by circumstance. But, it doesn't change the way you feel. Repeat the above-described process a couple more times and it'll kill any motivation you ever had to make friends, especially in a new environment. You feel like you've extended your hand to someone and it's been slapped away or, worse, chopped off. Or maybe you feel like you stuck your neck out for someone with a little generosity, only to have the ax swing and rend your head from your shoulders. It's painful, it hurts, and nobody likes to feel that way.

People can be disappointing. Certainly a depressing thought, but despite all the optimistic thoughts about human beings, I've found this one to be fairly consistent. Therefore, I propose the following thought: let not the measure or worth of your friendship efforts be the responsiveness (or lack of responsiveness) on the part of those whose friendship you pursue. Or in other words, change your operational mindset when making friends.

The approach I propose requires concentration on what each of us is doing to facilitate a welcoming atmosphere to those we wish to befriend. We must polish our approach to people to make them feel welcome. We shouldn't go to social events as if we're going out into the wilderness to "headhunt" for friends. This approach is too aggressive and our intentions will quickly become apparent to those we encounter. They will feel "stalked" or "preyed upon" if we aggressively attempt to make their acquaintance. And obviously, this quality is wholly unattractive in another human being.

When we go out to socialize, we must bring the hospitality of our homes with us. Instead of hoping to slay someone with our charm, wit, and laughter, we should have the mindset of inviting people to us, telling them to pull up a chair, and enjoy one another's company. That's the difference. A "headhunting" friendship approach is based on results; a "home entertainer" friendship approach is based on improving our own merits. Instead of going out to win or conquer friends, we develop our personal generosity and then invite others to join us in our exquisite beneficence. If performed genuinely, this can be deeply gratifying for you, the host. And it will encourage others to open their generosity to you as well.

There are a few key pitfalls to this approach that must be avoided. One may interpret this approach as allowing others to "take, take, take" from your well-meaning. You must keep your dignity here because a successful friendship is never a one-sided engagement. Anyone who is interested in who you are for who you are will naturally be willing to return your kindness with their own form of graciousness. Another is that when realizing that someone is not interested in being your friend, we become bitter and self-righteous, claiming that "they were never deserving of my generosity", so "screw them". This must be avoided at all costs because it robs us of our peace and completely disarms this mindset. It is also indicative of a regression into the "headhunter" mentality, which gets frustrated and resentful when results are not achieved. If you do not have peace with this approach, then you're not doing it right.

There are many other benefits to this mindset as well. One benefit is that as long as you have purged your intentions of any "headhunting" tendencies, you will be better equipped to deal with rejection better. If someone isn't open to you good will, you can move on because you weren't concerned with "conquering" them to begin with. Instead, you can turn your efforts to other prospects. Secondly, since this approach is focused on our own service and merit offerings, we can seek to make friends and deal with rejection dispassionately. If someone refuses your generosity, look elsewhere for those who can appreciate your hospitality. We can be resistant to bitterness and emboldened against rejection. Also, this emboldenment will necessarily boost our self-esteem and self-image. We can become confident in what we have to offer other people and sure of our own merits.

If you are in a new environment or just looking to make friends, I highly recommend that you give this approach an honest try.

Finding Nemo and the Wonder of Discovery

Finding Nemo

My favorite Pixar movie is "Finding Nemo". I know, everyone from my generation would probably beat me senseless over such blasphemy because my favorite Pixar film should be "Toy Story". (actually, I might like "Toy Story 2" better than the first one; double blasphemy!) It might be because it's been years since I've seen either of the two first Toy Story films, but nonetheless, "Finding Nemo" finds itself at the top of the list. And why not? It's a visually beautiful film, Thomas Newman's score is soothingly serene, and where else would you learn that clown fish aren't really that funny?

But I like it for a different reason. Yes, I'm typically attracted to visually appealing films and pretty soundtracks, but this film had re-awoken something in me that few other films have touched upon: my inner boyhood.

No sooner had the film finished than I was on YouTube, clicking through National Geographic videos of marine life (especially whales), reigniting my boyish curiosity and wonder. The diversity of the multitudinous marine species was astounding to me, even now.

The instructional drawing book my
mother gave me in 1st grade.

As a boy, I was a science nerd. Anything I could get my hands on, I'd just eat up whatever knowledge I could. Ocean wildlife, though one of many topics, was definitely one of my favorites. I dreamed of becoming a marine biologist and working with undersea creatures.

This got me to thinking. Throughout my liberal arts education, I've become painfully aware of the havoc wrought by the modern era. To be fair, there have been some excellent technological advances in the modern age, but to also be fair, there have been some fatal errors in thought that have brought about many modern-day horrors (the Holocaust, moral-relativism, communism, etc.) The one that quickly came to mind was the scientific method.

The scientific method is based on the notion of inductive reasoning, which takes individual observations, makes a general statement (hypothesis) about them, then creates an experiment to test the statement. If properly used, inductive reasoning is a powerful tool for science. This is primarily what is meant by the Scientific Revolution of the Renaissance. It is true that human innovation and technology have advanced more in the past 500 years than in any given 500 years in recorded human history. And it may be true that the power of inductive reasoning is to be given credit for this. However, with the expansion of man's ability to innovate has also come the expansion of man's insatiable desire for material things.

It's not wonder that technological engineering has become the religion of the world. Material gods such as the iPhone, the personal computer, the Blu-Ray, the social network, the feeding of the world's hungry, and even the cure for cancer have driven science to fulfill our material needs. I do not despise the iPhone/computer/Blu-Ray/social network (I possess all four) or ending world hunger/curing cancer. These are not evils in themselves, but they certainly are what we make of them. (and yes, I believe that even the search for a cure for cancer can be corrupted by our desire to cheat death) At the end of the day, the modern world asks of science, "Does it make life easier?"

When was the last time we did something just because we wanted to satisfy our wonder and curiosity? Inductive reasoning tends to rob us of our natural wonder and awe because we hope for results we've already predicted in a hypothesis. We've forgotten that part of ourselves that is always seeking answers; the inquisitive little boy or girl in all of us.

Maybe it isn't science that you're curious or inquisitive about. Maybe you grew up wanting to be a famous artist, and now you're a marketing major or working for a graphic design firm. Or maybe you loved learning about history and ancient cultures, and now you're a politician or a lawyer. Or maybe you are like me, growing up as an inquisitive junior scientist and mathematician, but now you're an engineer or a doctor. If we allow it, we can lose our curiosity.

And is life worth living if we ignore our questions? Yes, our curiosity is insatiable and that's one of the things that makes us human, but feeding that desire fills the soul with wonder. It enables us to see past ourselves and our wants/needs and draws our focus to see the world as it really is: filled to the brim and overflowing with spectacles and amazement unparalleled by any other. Whether it's the depth of space or the ocean, the thick rain forests of South America or the grassy savanna of the African plains, the changes in the weather or the changes in the nucleus of the atom in a nuclear reaction, the world is full of natural wonders to be marveled at.

And return to that innocent inquisitiveness is possible. We can learn things, solely for the sake of knowing and satisfying that curious little boy or girl inside. Just begin by asking yourself: how old are sea turtles?

Opinion: Rudy and Notre Dame

For most people, the University of Notre Dame, my alma mater, is typically associated with football, merchandise, and the film "Rudy" (or how the administration invited Barack Obama to speak at commencement; oh, I've not forgotten).

I'm watching the film right now, actually. Fall is around the corner and I want to go back, so I'm getting the beautiful cinematography of campus. I was lucky to have my dad take me and my brother up to campus for a few football games when I was little (he earned his bachelors and law degrees from ND). I didn't really care as much for the football, but the campus was gorgeous and it was alot of fun to be there. There was something about the place that I never could forget. I, like Rudy, also transferred into Notre Dame; I was not accepted out of senior year of high school. My first year there was my sophomore year, so I had three years there. The summer weekend that I was on campus to look for an apartment for sophomore year, My dad, my little brother and I watched "Rudy" on my laptop in St. Ed's, which had been converted into an "alumni hotel" for visitors during the summer vacation months. I remember being excited to finally be here and getting ready for the experience of a life time. I wouldn't say I loved the film, but it was exciting to see the campus and now to be there for real.

And then I saw it again as a senior. It was the night before my first LSAT, so I had essentially quarantined myself from everyone to make sure that I got a relaxing evening before the big test. I had decided to close the LSAT study book, grabbed a light snack and went through my film collection to pick one that would be relaxing and inspirational, and "Rudy" seemed to fit that bill. I didn't do so great the next day on the test. I blame Rudy.

If my time at Notre Dame taught me anything, it was to dislike Fighting Irish football. I remember loving it as a young-un (my first words, in order, were "mommy/daddy", "no", and "cheer, cheer for ol' Notre Dame"), watching it on TV with my family. It was a really awesome tradition. But as a student, I swiftly realized that it brought the worst out of people. It might be true that the university wouldn't be as prolific as it is today if it weren't for the revenue generated by football, but I often found myself wondering if it hasn't become an end in itself. Fighting Irish football had become such a materialistic commodity and the center of everyone's attention that it's gigantic presence in everyone's mind had suffocated the aspects of Notre Dame that really are special, such as spiritual formation. The administration was so focused on squeezing every last dime out of fans (and students) and bombarding students' consciousness with every update on the football team.

So, back to "Rudy". The last time I saw this film (senior year), I was struck at how much I hadn't paid attention to the things Rudy was telling people about how he was going to play football for Notre Dame and the facial reactions of those people at this thought. Talk about delusions of grandeur! The character looks crazy! Everyone looked at him as if he had lost his mind. I think maybe he did, at some point. So he's at his best friend's funeral (the one who died in the factory accident) and he leaves the service early to sob in the foyer with his gf trying to console him. The first thing he says when he composes himself is how much he misses his friend now that he's gone... oh, wait, actually he says that he's decided to go to South Bend to try to get into Notre Dame. Oops, never mind. Then, pretty much everyone he tells, he says that he's going to play football for Notre Dame.

So, ok, I don't like the fact that Rudy is obsessed with football. There comes a point where his mentor tells Rudy that even if he never gets to dress for a game, he'll be graduating with a degree from the University of Notre Dame (and I wish he would have added that he will have received the valuable spiritual formation in those critical college years, but it wouldn't be Hollywood if it was expected to get everything right). And that is something. That's truly a staggering something. And he will have had an experience of a lifetime.

Contrary to most inspirational sports films, I think this film could have been my favorite film of all time if the protagonist had not achieved some measure of success in the sport. It really would have been a happily-ever-after if the dream of playing football had motivated him to discover the bigger things in life: learning, friendships, and most importantly, faith. In this alternate version of the story, he would have been so consumed with going to Notre Dame to play football that along the way, he discovered how much he loved to learn, how Notre Dame is a place to meet really great people, and how he learned to love Christ and His Mother, Mary, after whom the university is named. And this is what makes his dreams come true. And when he doesn't make the cut for the football team or he doesn't get to dress in uniform for a game, he realizes how little that matters to him now. He's found what he was searching for, and it wasn't what he set out to find.

And besides, the fact that Notre Dame ever cooperated with the production of a film about a hobbit playing football is completely beyond me.

College Life: A Survival Guide

It's been over a year since I've graduated college and having lived in the real world for some time now, I've realized what lifestyle practices have served me well and which I could probably have used a do-over on. These are just a few lessons I learned that illustrate this (some humorous, some serious):

1. Don't drink from the Tupperware bin
Whatever is in it, it doesn't concern you. Either there's not enough alcohol in it to make a difference (because your host was cheap) or there's too much alcohol in it for you to handle (because your host wants to get you plastered) or that guy who just did a keg stand got sick and couldn't make it to the toilet... Any way you look at it, drinking from open containers at a social gathering of complete strangers is a poor idea.

2. Go to class
As you begin to pay loans, typically 6 months after you graduate, you'll begin to realize how much of that money you paid to sleep in, take an extended lunch break by playing Halo or Call of Duty, or start the weekend festivities 3 hours early. You might hate that philosophy class at 8:30 MWF, but trust me, going to that class and learning something will make the burden of paying off your student loans more bearable. And who knows: your 5-year highschool reunion trivia contest might consist of identifying the author of the phrase "Cogito, ergo sum". Just imagine the bragging rights....

3. Get involved
Join a club, perform community service, play intramural sports/go to a college sporting event, or explore the various social opportunities offered by your university/college. If you graduate and the only change in scenery was the venue of this weekend's slosh-fest or the variations in the mess of your dorm room, you'll have missed an excellent opportunity to get in the habit of trying new things and being a true risk-taker. By not going to the parties, you will try most things that people don't dare to think possible on a weekend evening, such as, actually having a good time.

The Basilica of the Sacred Heard [left] and the Golden Dome [right] at the University of Notre Dame

4. "Beer Before Liquor Only Makes You Sicker"
I've suddenly forgotten why I know this one...

5. Exercise and eat well
This is difficult depending on your major and where you go to school. As a physics-philosophy major at the University of Notre Dame (with one of the best food services in the country), it was easy to not exercise much (because of all the homework associated with my majors) and eat poorly (because of the ready availability of so much good-tasting, unhealthy food). Also, watch how much you drink because alcoholic beverages are full of all sorts of fattening carbs/sugars/etc. The "Freshman-15" is not a joke. I gained it while running varsity track and field at St. Louis University (granted, the food was awful there). It's real.

6. Coffee is your friend
None of the sugar from "energy drinks", all of the caffeine, and it's good for you! For those late study nights, cramming for organic chemistry or as an excuse for a social outing, coffee is wholesome and fun!

7. Get a head start on good habits

No matter who you are, college is a crucial time in your life. Odds are, you are away from home or you are spending a substantial amount of time without parental supervision/guidance. I love my parents and I considered this aspect of college to be a particularly awesome thing. This is because I've always looked up to my parents and I want to be just like them some day. The first step to doing this, however, is to actively seek to develop good practices and habits. What you do with the first few years of your freedom will help you (or haunt you) for the rest of your life. And I think that's really the best piece of advice I can give in this post, so I'll end with that.

A Guide to Making Friends, Pt. 1

Let me begin by saying that I am woefully unqualified to write a post on this topic. It's only been in the last year or two that I've begun to really think seriously about how one goes about making friends. But since I have returned to my hometown and in search of friends, I've been thinking about how I've made friends in the past, so I feel these are thoughts worth sharing.

1. Go to where people are

We all have our comfort zones. And we all know where we wish we could find friends. But certain locations attract particular value types. A club will mostly attract people who want to drink and just dance ("da da da doo doo..."). A political rally will draw people interested in politics. A service project will attract people who have a desire to help the needy. This requires a bit of soul-searching: you have to determine what kind of person you really want to be because your friends will contribute to some degree in making you that person.

2. Seek dialogue, not monologue

Most people I know don't have a problem with this. I write it because until relatively recently, I did. As is characteristic of every member of my family, I have an opinion on practically everything, and if a brand new topic is posed to me that I don't immediately have an opinion on, I make one up and hold it until it is unfashionable to hold it any longer. As a result, I monologued (and it certainly wasn't Shakespearean). There needs to be an even tug-of-war between two people. You should be able to bounce conversation points off one another and notice yourself considering the point being made by the person you're trying to befriend before you come up with what you will say next. 

3. Listen to what people are passionate about

Once I got dialoging down, this was my next challenge. My passion is philosophy and I could never get enough of talking about it. Some of my friends were similarly passionate on that topic, but many were relatively indifferent. What I have found to be more gratifying is to discover what makes a person tick; what passion drives them. And more often than not, it's something I can engage them on. This goes hand-in-hand with point No. 1, "Go to where people are". 

4. Form a personal relationship through one-on-one interaction

Both extroverts and introverts can get this wrong. Extroverts can claim the attention of a group of people and be satisfied with being the center-of-attention and introverts can retreat to the corner of a room, at least figuratively, and allow others to command the attention in a group. Neither is bad, but both miss the point of building friendship. The extrovert problem is that everybody yearns for personal attention. A girl doesn't like to receive the same amount of attention from a guy as all the other girls do from him. If she likes him, she wants more personal attention. (and the same goes for the other-way-around) And I firmly believe this applies to friendships between members of the same sex as well. So although you might be the king of the group, you must personally engage each person with whom you wish to befriend. The introvert problem is that their comfort with their own thoughts can render them immobile to that necessary personal contact. A concerted effort must be made to interact exclusively.

5. Generosity

The reason for this being last is because this is the key. Generosity is contagious. And it is good for the soul. It teaches you to come out of yourself and see the hopes and desires of someone else. This is the crowning friendship "virtue" because it is critical to the proper practice of the other four. If you do not have a generous comfort-zone, you won't go to those places where people are. If you're not generous with the topic of conversation, you will monologue and you won't be interested in what people are passionate about. Generosity is pivotal to building a strong personal relationship because you have devoted all your time and attention to one person. All these things contribute to strong personal friendships. 

"No one would choose a friendless existence on condition of having all the other things in the world." - Aristotle