Today . . .

. . . we have thunderstorms. That NEVER happens in this area. Mr. B. says he's been living here since 1959 and he's scarcely ever seen thunder and lightning, let alone seen it go on for a whole day. Says it reminds him of St. Paul Minnesota, where he grew up.

I have three minutes to get to dinner, so I'd best go. Wish me luck with my seminar on Descartes tonight - I have decided that I officially dislike the man. We're reading the "Rules for the Direction of the Mind" for tonight and . . . well . . more or less he thinks everything is and/or should be mathematically solved. I say that that is an exceptionally bad idea and I hope he rots. Mnah! (This moment of maturity brought to you by sleep deprivation - the constant companion of college students everywhere)

:) Pax Christi,
ME

Justifying the numerical order, according to priority, of my obsessions (see summary ^ )

No, I haven't been struggling with placing God first. That goes without saying - "For, clearly, among causes the final is the first." -Aristotle (and if that quote sounds self-contradictory to you I assure you it really isn't - it's one of those beloved paradoxes of Chestertonian fame; truth standing on it's head to get attention, if you will. I would summarize the four causes here but I don't want to bore everyone to tears.)

I haven't been struggling with placing my beloved second, either. Full well he (and pretty much everyone else of close accquaintance) knows how very much of a priority he takes in my life. Actions speak louder than words.

It's the third obsession I have been thinking about. Now, I'm in my third year of intensive Aristotelian/Thomistic training. I walk, talk, eat, breathe, and sleep Aristotetlian distinctions. My posts are sickeningly full of them (you poor individuals). How can I justify saying that Chesterton comes third and not Aristotle or St. Thomas? How?

Well, Chesterton is prior.

To ask the Aristotelian question: prior in what sense?

Well, first, he was prior in time - not literally, of course, but in the life of my mind, Chesterton was the common man with common sense that called me forth into philosophical inquiry.
Second, to jokingly take this distinction beyond it's more strict philosophical limits, Chesterton was prior to Aristotle insofar as he is more known to man . . . at least insofar as he was the common type of man and Aristotle was not . . . though ironically I might have to say that I personally find Chesterton's character as a human being to be both more known to man and more known by nature, which is a philosophical impossibility but it's a funny thing to say, anyway. ;)

Though, in comparing Chesterton to Thomas I cannot help but say that I think Chesterton would want to talk about St. Thomas as a common sort of man; a common brother in Christ who shared with him both proportion and sensibility. Likewise, I cannot help but think that St. Thomas is probably enjoying Chesterton's company in the beatific vision: two fat men with great sanctity and great genius - now there's some company I'd like to keep.

Nevertheless, Chesterton is first in my mind and my heart. I may be an extremely Aristotelian Thomist by the time they get done with me here, but first, and foremost, I will always be a simple and common Chestertonian.

And here's a poem for today, courtesy of Chesterton and his wisdom:

"By the Babe Unborn"
- G.K. Chesterton

If trees were tall and grasses short,
As in some crazy tale,
If here and there a sea were blue
Beyond the breaking pale,

If a fixed fire hung in the air
To warm me one day through,
If deep green hair grew on great hills,
I know what I should do.

In dark I lie; dreaming that there
Are great eyes cold or kind,
And twisted streets and silent doors,
And living men behind.

Let storm clouds come: better an hour,
And leave to weep and fight,
Than all the ages I have ruled
The empires of the night.

I think that if they gave me leave
Within the world to stand,
I would be good through all the day
I spent in fairyland.

They should not hear a word from me
Of selfishness or scorn,
If only I could find the door,
If only I were born.

So . . .

The lecture was really very good. Evidently our speaker from Friday night is becoming an expert on evil - writing a book on it, in fact. One thing about evil is that it is always a challenging and intriguing subject - extremely difficult, though. The subject he was examining in the lecture was, specifically, God's justice and original sin: whether God could be considered just for ordaining that mankind from the first parents would not be able to avoid sin.

It was an extremely interesting lecture. If anyone wants an audio copy just leave a reply here or zap me an e-mail and I'll pick up one for you. Hereby adding Mr. Robert Barry to the list of impressive, enthusiastic and relatively young Thomists who are brining America's advanced theological studies back to orthodoxy. I love Mr. B and Dr. McA, but I'm glad that all Thomists aren't quite as old as, well, dirt. ;)

I've also found a great coincidence - many great Thomists are enthusiastic Chesterton fans, as well . . . which would make sense, since Chesterton was to some degree a Thomist - insofar as he was a theologian or philosopher. He was mainly a journalist who specialized in common sense and the common man; which have, of course, inseparable ties to both the sciences of natural reason and the science of sacred doctrine - although the commonest common man has only a vague notion of what those terms should mean to him, as such.

But I wonder what Chesterton would say?

Have a great day!
Pax Christi,
ME

I need to learn to say no

What is it that possesses me to stay awake until all hours speaking to girls in my dorm about whatever? I mean, really. I already have what is turning into a rather nasty cold and what do I go and do? Stay up until 1:30 a.m. talking about this that and everything else with someone who dropped in to say 'hi'.

My Love has been chiding me all morning about learning to say "No, excuse me, but sleep is important to being able to function so if you would, please, . . . .". He thinks I should use the volleyball game time this afternoon to take a nap. He's probably right. What with my sinuses feeling the way they do I think it would probably not be good to take another volleyball to the face (which I did again last week, btw. But this time, a team-mate was able to hit it back over the net after it bounced off my face - and the other team was too shocked to return it after that so we ended up getting the point. It was rather ironic - everyone laughing and cheering me as I somewhat peevishly held my nose, the second week in a row. I do hope it doesn't happen again - somehow I just don't relish the thought of an entire season with my head so very much in the game.)

Well, anyway, we have a lecture here tonight. Boy o boy. The topic sounds, uuh, illusive.

Robert Barry, Providence College:
"Judge Between Me and My Vineyard: God and the Punishment of Original Sin"

Mmmmm. I think I'm bringing my knitting. You never can tell with this lecture series thing. Might be enthralling, might be so boring I nearly fall out of my chair as I doze. You never know. Knitting at the very least prevents the latter occurrence for the most part.

Much love to everyone!
In Christ,
ME

"There is but an inch of difference between the cushioned chamber and the padded cell."
-G.K. Chesterton

The ethics of the ancients

You know, Aristotle got a lot of things right . . . . I'm reading his work on Ethics right now and I'm impressed with his deductions on the whole, but . . . alas . . . his expectations over-reach what this world and mankind's fallen nature can realistically deliver without the assistance of salvific grace and the support of the 7 sacraments, if even then. You see, his definition of the virtuous man is the man who only desires that which is virtuous, period. He has not a single temptation, not one tiny stray thought or appetite. He never has to do subdue his desires with his reason because the two are in complete accord. St. Augustine claimed that such perfection existed only before the fall, and that now it cannot be reached on earth, even by the saints, since temptations exist for us all until we die. In short, we must fight the good fight until the fat lady sings because we will not be able to completely heal ourselves of concupiscience. Knowing that, I can't help but think of how depressingly dark and disappointing Aristotle's life and capabilities must have been to him, in the day-to-day struggle to be a truly virtuous man. How frightful it must've been to know how things should be and see that you cannot make it so, and to have nowhere to turn that you might fulfill what you know is your purpose as man, the rational animal.

On another note, Shakespeare is a pretty clever guy, you know? Reading Richard II and Henry the IV this week - I love the way he deliberately uses words with double meanings to convey ironic truths. He SO rocks!

Pax Christi,
ME

Volleyballs

. . . . shouldn't hit people in the face. It hurts.

Not wearing my earrings to my games anymore. The impact of volleyball was a little too close to my ears for comfort. Don't need my neck pierced, too.

Love to ya'll,
ME

Appreciating the diverse gifts of God

I never cease wondering at the separate and diverse talents God grants to the students I work with here at school. To some, He gives encyclopedic knowledge of minute distinctions in mathematics. To others, He gives wisdom in the higher sciences of philosophy and theology. To a few chosen individuals, He gives both. And yet, as I watch these individuals work and discuss in the classroom, I am reminded that none of us may take credit for any of our talents and gifts, as they were not ours to receive or choose to maintain except insofar as He willed it to be so. How much we have to thank Him for - and how wonderful it is that He doesn't leave it up to us! Only by His grace are we able to enjoy what He has given.

In Christ,
ME