[Hat-tip to Canon212]
Posted by Paul Anthony Melanson on 7/1/16
… But in FrancisChurch, anyone who … accepts that moral norms are something more than “mere rules,” is a “judgmental Pharisee.” It would appear that Michael Brown over at Spirit Daily is promoting this idea. In an article which may be found here, Mr. Brown suggests that, “In religion, there can be a disconnection. When there is, it doesn’t prepare us like it could for eternity. We go with less than we can:
We see this with those who suffer from a “spirit of religiosity,” folks who are legalistic and follow the rules — on the surface, a holy life — but too often have been harsh on others, fixated on the parts, the mechanics, the codicil, the footnotes, instead of the spirit; not using the gifts of the Church to full effect and perhaps not at all. They genuflect correctly but have exhibited a wrong heart.
They can tell you the difference between blessed and chrism oils. They have the holy days memorized: all good things.
But if it doesn’t lead to love (only to self-righteousness, even spiritual arrogance, which becomes judgmentalism), such people, in their zeal, and scrupulosity, are fooling themselves.”
Actually it’s Michael Brown who is fooling himself. Archbishop Fulton John Sheen, in an Essay which may be found in his book The Electronic Christian, tells us:
The modern man must decide for himself whether he is going to have a religion with thought or a religion without it. He already knows that thoughtless policies lead to the ruin of society, and he may begin to suspect that thoughtless religion ends in confusion worse confounded.
The problem is simple. The modern man has two maps before him: one the map of sentimental religion, the other the map of dogmatic religion. The first is very simple. It has been constructed only in the last few years by a topographer who has just gone into the business of map making and is extremely adverse to explicit directions. He believes that each man should find his own way and not have his liberty taken away by dogmatic directions. The other map is much more complicated and full of dogmatic detail. It has been made by topographers who have been over every inch of the road for centuries and know each detour and each pitfall. It has explicit directions and dogmas such as, ‘Do not take this road – it is swampy,’ or ‘Follow this road; although rough and rocky at first, it leads to a smooth road on a mountaintop.’
The simple map is very easy to read, but those who are guided by it are generally lost in a swamp of mushy sentimentalism. The other map takes a little more scrutiny, but it is simpler in the end, for it takes you up through the rocky road of the world’s scorn to the everlasting hills where is seated the original Map Maker, the only One who ever has associated rest with learning: ‘Learn of Me…and you shall find rest for your souls.’
Every new coherent doctrine and dogma add to the pabulum for thought; it is an extra bit of garden upon which we can intellectually browse; it is new food into which we can put our teeth and thence absorb nourishment; it is the discovery of a new intellectual planet that adds fullness and spaciousness to our mental world. And simply because it is solid and weighty, because it is dogmatic and not gaseous and foggy like a sentiment, it is intellectually invigorating, for it is with weights that the best drill is done, and not with feathers.
It is the very nature of a man to generate children of his brain in the shape of thoughts, and as he piles up thought on thought, truth on truth, doctrine on doctrine, conviction on conviction, and dogma on dogma, a very coherent and orderly fashion, so as to produce a system complex as a body and yet one and harmonious, the more and more human he becomes. When, however, in response to false cries for progress, he lops off dogmas, breaks with the memory of his forefathers, denies intellectual parentage, pleads for a religion without dogmas, substitutes mistiness for mystery, mistakes sentiment for sediment, he is sinking back slowly, surely, and inevitably into the senselessness of stones and into the irresponsible unconsciousness of weeds. Grass is broad-minded. Cabbages have heads – but no dogmas.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church tells us that, “The Church’s Magisterium exercises the authority it holds from Christ to the fullest extent when it defines dogmas, that is, when it proposes, in a form obliging the Christian people to an irrevocable adherence of faith, truths contained in divine Revelation or also when it proposes, in a definitive way, truths having a necessary connection with these.” (CCC, 88).
How critical is dogma to one’s faith life? Again the Catechism explains, “There is an organic connection between our spiritual life and the dogmas. Dogmas are lights along the path of faith; they illuminate it and make it secure. Conversely, if our life is upright, our intellect and heart will be open to welcome the light shed by the dogmas of faith.” (CCC, 89).
Michael Brown would have us believe that dogma leads us away from compassion and to a cold Pharisaism and that insisting on moral norms leads to coldness and a lack of compassion. But as far as compassion is concerned, we must define our terms.
Because of human frailty, every sinner deserves both pity and compassion. However, vice and sin must be excluded from this compassion. This because sin can never be the proper object of compassion. (Summa Theologica, II-II, q. 30, a.1, ad 1).
It is a false compassion which supplies the sinner with the means to remain attached to sin. Such “compassion” provides an assistance (whether material or moral) which actually enables the sinner to remain firmly attached to his evil ways.
By contrast, true compassion leads the sinner away from vice and back to virtue. As Thomas Aquinas explains:
“We love sinners out of charity, not so as to will what they will, or to rejoice in what gives them joy, but so as to make them will what we will, and rejoice in what rejoices us. Hence it is written: ‘They shall be turned to thee, and thou shalt not be turned to them.'” (St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, II-II, q. 25, a.6, ad 4, citing Jeremiah 15:19).
St. Thomas Aquinas teaches us that the sentiment of compassion only becomes a virtue when it is guided by reason, since “it is essential to human virtue that the movements of the soul should be regulated by reason.” (Summa Theologica, II-II, q. 30, c.3). Without such regulation, compassion is merely a passion. A false compassion is a compassion not regulated and tempered by reason and is, therefore, a potentially dangerous inclination. This because it is subject to favoring not only that which is good but also that which is evil (Summa Theologica, II-II, q. 30, a.1, ad 3).
An authentic compassion always stems from charity. True compassion is an effect of charity (Summa Theologica, II-II, q. 30, a.3, ad 3). But it must be remembered that the object of this virtue is God, whose love extends to His creatures. (Summa Theologica, II-II, q. 25, a.3). Therefore, the virtue of compassion seeks to bring God to the one who suffers so that he may thereby participate in the infinite love of God. As St. Augustine explains:
“‘Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.’ Now, you love yourself suitably when you love God better than yourself. What, then, you aim at in yourself you must aim at in your neighbor, namely, that he may love God with a perfect affection.” (St. Augustine, Of the Morals of the Catholic Church, No. 49).
I an concerned for Michael Brown and the direction he has been taking recently. With every bizarre statement issued by Francis, inevitably he issues a knee-jerk apologia. Where others, including Raymond Arroyo over at EWTN, have expressed concern, Mr, Brown is seemingly in a state of denial.