Hello All,
Rick's interesting recent posts remind me of a few related items I've meant to post about for a while now, and as it happens there's an open moment or two here, so here goes.
First, on the 'spiritual, not regligious' locution that one often hears, I remember that I used to fee a vague sense of irritation each time I heard someone give utterance to it. I tended to suspect that what the user meant was that s/he affirmed all the desired goodies that one often associates with certain doctrines of faith -- particularly the forgiveness and eternal life bits -- while at the same time declining to be bound by the bill one must pay for these benefits. In this connection I also found quite compelling a line of thought associated with the Jewish theologian Yeshayahu Leibowitz, who, if I read and recall him correctly, criticized the idolatrous aspect of what I think he called 'endowment' religions -- religions that promised various things rather than simply demanding things, like observance of the Law, or Halahkah. The austerity and emphasis on duty seemed so very pure and powerful. It still does. And so does the wisdom that seems to me to inhere in the oft-heard observation that 'spirituality' that is not bound up with discipline or practice or 'religious observance' of some kind is apt to dissipate into a sort of empty sentimentalism or sighing ennui.
On the other hand, I have also come over the years to suspect that the urge which many people seem to feel to issue a sort of 'not religous' disclaimer immediately after affirming a generally favorable disposition toward certain aspects of our faith traditions might be reflective of a failing on many of our parts in our living and affirming those traditions. I am inclined, in other words, in substantial measure to 'blame myself,' or 'ourselves,' for the widespread misunderstandings we find out there in the world in respect of the question of what we're about. I don't think it merely an accident, or merely a failure on the part of casual observers to look more carefully, or merely a product of silly mass media portrayals of religious adherents, that we are often thought to be likely bigots, or repressed, or keen to judge and condemn, or ready to force our wills upon others under a more exalted name than 'will,' or to be hypocritical, etc. etc. when we say we adhere to a faith. So take this for what ever it strikes you as being worth, but I'm going to suggest that we look first to ourselves in seeking explanations of why it is that one so often hears this phrase 'spiritual, not religious.'
Second, I'm delighted that Rick also cites a Catholic Marxist today. The reason he does so, as I understand it, is also the reason that I take delight in the reference. It's this: To my mind, one of the most wonderful aspects of the Aristotelian tradition that suffuses Catholic, Marxist, and indeed all German idealist thought properly understood, is its valorization of materiality. I remember that when I converted to Roman Catholicism, one of the reasons I used to offer to others was that in this tradition you actually saw a dying body on its crucifixes, rather than simply a cross. The idea that 'the spiritual' was actually *in,* and indeed partly *constitutive of,* 'the material' seemed to terribly powerful and important and just plain real. And the same is true of the Aristotelian and German Idealist -- hence also Marxist, when properly understood -- understandings of the role of *material* life in human and beyond-human life.
I've often thought of myself, in this connection, as a sort of 'spiritual materialist,' or better (given that this phrase took on a different, to my mind less attractive meaning in some of the theological writing of the 60s and 70s), a sort of 'spirit-suffused or -underwritten materialist.' I find a monist methaphysics to be the most plausible and attractive, in other words, such that all around us is indeed matter, but matter itself can be minded, can be conscious, can be 'spirited,' etc. It's not dead stuff. It's living stuff. The doctrine of literal, bodily resurrection, as distinguished from metampsychosis or ghastly substance rising like steam from the ground after death, seems to me very much in keeping with such a view. So I sign on in significan part to 'historical materialism' and so forth, without understanding 'material' in any way to exclude all that we find most noble in material earthly life -- love, thought, faith, devotion, caring, creativity, etc. And it seems to me that considerations of this sort also offer a good grounding for those who would affirm our obligations to care for all of our fellow creatures, as well as the broader natural environment, as well. It still is His garden, after all, and we're still but the groundskeepers. And as it is sacred ground, while we're but the custodians, it seems to me it's our duty to tend to it well.
So, in closing, thanks again to Rick for drawing this out!
All best,
Bob
LAW AND RELIGION SCHOLARS NETWORK (LARSN)
CONFERENCE AND MEETING
Centre for Law and Religion
The Law School
Cardiff University
http://www.law.cf.ac.uk/clr
Tuesday 11th May 2010
Venue: The Law Building, Museum Avenue, Cathays Park, Cardiff
Take a look at the interesting agenda which MOJ friend Pasquale Annicchino sent our way, here.
And then book your flight to Cardiff!
Here is Douglas Farrow, writing in Touchstone, about state control of education (and many other things). Check it out:
When I speak of the audacity of the state, the kind of state I have in mind is what we may call the savior state. The main characteristic of the savior state is that it presents itself as the people’s guardian, as the guarantor of the citizen’s well-being. The savior state is the paternal state, which not only sees to the security of its territory and the enforcement of its laws but also promises to feed, clothe, house, educate, monitor, medicate, and in general to care for its people. Some prefer to call it the nanny state, but that label fails to reckon with its inherently religious character. The savior state does have a religious character, precisely in its paternalism, and may even be comfortable with religious rhetoric. . . .
