The Gadfly
December, 2013
Volume XVIII
Issue 3
“Bite the sleeping horse.”
Franciscan, the Helicopter Parent Mary Ann Foster
When people think of Franciscan University, an image comes to mind. This image is not accidental: it is the product of advertising. Every college campus in the country creates an image of both their school and, more importantly, their students. After all, the accomplishments of the college graduate are a great way to show off the importance of spending thousands of dollars getting a degree. At Franciscan, most recognize that the image of the student is fairly unique.
From the inside, this vision for the students is embodied in policy. At Franciscan, the professors also have a unique situation. Their relationship with the students is defined by teaching; that’s pretty standard. They’re also being forced to adjust to the relatively modern influx of more college-goers paired with a lessening desire in those students to actually commit to internalizing academic studies. The generational gap doesn’t help, either. The professors were stu-
dents once, a long, long time ago (the 60s). This time of their lives is often brought up to incite horror in the innocent Franciscan student with tales of hippie compounds and loose sex. Sometimes they like to glorify Franciscan as a heavenly oasis compared to these other institutions where “anything goes.” Many Franciscan professors would not be able to maintain their current instructional methods at other institutions, be it the kind of faith-based or inspired curriculum or ability Please continue on page 4
The Revolutionary Character of English Thought
Nearly five hundred years ago, an unprecedented revolution took place in a great country, and a brave man gave his life – and his head – to stop it. Eighty years after him, another man attempted to undo the effects of the revolution by starting one of his own, and this man died trying to do so. This country is, of course, England, and these two men are, respectively, St. Thomas More and Guy Fawkes. And though one gave his life to stop a revolution and the other gave his life to start one, both More
Anthony Halstead
and Fawkes have something in common: they died for something they believed in. The common student here at Franciscan hardly needs to be told about the heroic martyrdom of Thomas More. More was a brilliant child and his academic success made him a prominent lawyer and scholar, though for a period of about three years he lived in a religious community discerning the priesthood. Deciding that he was not called to it, he returned to his position of being a lawyer and quickly 1
ascended the political hierarchy. He became married and had four children, though in 1511, his first wife died. He remarried shortly thereafter. He continued to ascend the political ranks and his fame throughout Europe grew, and eventually wrote his famous Utopia. But in 1517, Europe was stricken with one of the greatest disasters it has ever faced: the Protestant Revolution. More wrote as an apologist against Luther and the English Protestant reformer William Tindal. Finally, in 1529, he became the Please continue on page 7
V. XVIII
I. 3
Letter From The Editor Hello Barons! Welcome to the last publication of the semester! As we prepare for finals and get ready to go back home I hope that we may all find those few minutes to contemplate over the progress we have made this semester – not just as a student, but as a person. Have you ever ended a semester and thought, “I got that A, but I didn’t learn anything”? Well, why is that? Do we view our classes as a means to an end? Sure, our classes are stepping-stones towards our larger goal, which is a degree, but the classes we take (that we spend thousands of dollars on) are aimed at making us a more knowledgeable person – a better person. Just imagine for a moment the heights we could all reach if we took complete advantage of all our courses. Abraham Lincoln and Calvin Coolidge never attended law school, and yet became great lawyers leading them into the White House. It wasn’t a GPA that led these two great figures into the highest position in American politics, nor was it a LSAT score – it was curiosity. Let us take this winter break to sit down and discover our passion, to grow curious in our passion. Let us return next semester with a desire and fierce curiosity. If we allow our passion to grow, if we hunger to feed our curiosity, we can receive heights unimaginable. Complacency will not help us become an artist, professor, doctor, lawyer, president, theologian, philosopher, or (insert your dream here). God has blessed us with an intellect. Let us use our God given gift to the highest potential to fulfill our dreams, our callings, and change the world.
Elias Hage Editor-in-Chief
Gadfly Staff 2013-2014
Elias Hage
Editor-in-chief
Joseph Antenello Copy Editor
Sarah Carts Layout Editor
Michael Sherman Business Manager
“The Catholic Church is like a thick steak, a glass of red wine, and a good cigar.”
- G.K. Chesterton
2
Write for us!
Interested in becoming a staff or freelance writer? Emial us: NotesToTheGadfly@ gmail.com
The Gadfly
Family Resemblances Timothy Rothhaar
I would like to address a topic which everyone should consider. Several weeks ago, the small, yet active members of two philosophy discussion groups on campus met to collectively discuss a topic dear to our hearts: what makes a philosophy Catholic? Despite several differing views, the erroneous position that faith is the basis of philosophy seemed to win out in the hearts of my colleagues, albeit not all, if I am recalling correctly. It is this stance which I would like to critique. Before I do, I must establish the fundamental differences between philosophy and theology, as well as a brief understanding of how Catholic philosophy is currently understood. What is Philosophy? Philosophy, in a very basic sense, is the study of nature (essences) using reason, and the reflecting on reality (in all of its layers and categories) independent of revelation. It utilizes observation and common experience to come to the knowledge of what and how things are in the world. Theology, on the other hand, begins with revelation—God’s disclosure to mankind of something he cannot attain using thought (e.g. the Holy Trinity, that God is three-in-one). Of course theologians think, no doubt, but they do it in light of God’s Word (e.g. the Bible) instead of the natural world. Philosophers begin with nature (the world), theologians with super-nature (the divine). It is this point where the relationship
between philosophy and the Catholic Church becomes tricky. Is there such a Thing as Catholic Philosophy? The first view states that Catholic philosophy is founded on Biblical and magisterial principles due to the fact that the word “Catholic” entails a specific theological orientation. Given the distinction above, this position is inherently contradictory, for if an argument is based on religious belief, then one is not doing philosophy, but is instead doing theology. The second view maintains that Catholic philosophy is whatever a Catholic writes. Here, the influence of Catholicism underlies the author’s thoughts and intentions, though his reflections are rational in nature. The last view is that Thomism is the Catholic philosophy— due in large part to support from Popes Leo XIII and Pius X—because it makes use of Aristotelianism in a compatible, “systematic” way with Catholicism. With these approaches in mind, how does one make sense of the initial question presented to the discussion group? Is there an Answer to What Makes a Philosophy Catholic? Suppose we ask the question a little differently: What makes a philosophy secular? That’s easy, you say: any philosophy that does not conclude what the Catholic Church does. Really? Take the commonly known conclusion of the Church that human persons 3
have immaterial souls. One may, with good reason, deduce that any Catholic—or even Christian in general—must hold this, though he may arrive here in any number of ways. Christian thinkers like Notre Dame’s Peter van Inwagen throw a serious wrench into this model, for van Inwagen is a materialist: yes, he believes that the soul is made up of elementary particles. Is he still a Christian? Given the complications such a view as van Inwagen’s presents, there is no easy answer to the question of what makes a philosophy Catholic. For this reason and the distinctions above, whatever makes a philosophy Catholic, it certainly cannot be founded on faith. The answer, if indeed there is one, does not come easily. I do not offer a solution because I do not purport to have one. I only wish to establish among my peers that these questions are not as simple as they appear, coupled with the fact that the Tradition we follow attests to the role of reason prior to faith in any and all philosophical formulations: “God, the source and end of all things, can be known…by the natural power of human reason” (Vatican I, Session 3: April 24, 1870, Chapter 2: On Revelation).
V. XVIII
I. 3
Franciscan, Continued from page 1 to pray before class. Additionally, Franciscan is known for programs in Theology and Nursing: meaning, other majors don’t get the same funding or attention. Yet many students in the concentrations which are less endowed still value their education based on that distinctly Catholic flavor. But here’s the shocker: plenty of Franciscan students are on campus because someone forced them to be. Values among students are not as uniform as the professors and others might imagine. Even among professed Catholics there are still diverse opinions on what passes for acceptable behavior and conduct! This is the reality, yet there seems to be almost zero tolerance for behaviors or actions that do not uphold the image of the saintly young person who is radically different than the rest of the troubled youth populating the world. Enter Franciscan the helicopter parent, who gives us residence life programming on dating. Fear clearly is not the problem this November. The problem is image. The problem is that the students are painting a picture doesn’t look right when held up beside the picture of “The Franciscan Student.” The administration will always care what the students are doing. Franciscan has a problem because the
way it has been marketed equates an education at Franciscan with being a person who is both spiritually and academically motivated. So how can the administration make good on the marketing promises when faced with students who aren’t motivated in these exact ways? With aggressive polices (for example the loathed “visitor’s hours”) and programming on things like... dating. Another example. Often the university considers daily mass attendance a bragging right. Yet, for a school that prides itself on Orthodox Catholic teaching, several aspects about a Mass at Christ the King Chapel do not appear to line up with this Orthodox commitment, the easy example being music. Why do we have music at mass that more closely resembles popular music rather than sacred music, especially when we have a Sacred Music Program? The invention of contemporary Christian music itself comes from a desire to attract people. Contemporary music at Mass starts to sound like a technique to keep those pews filled. A church full of young people is a great visual for pushing the “saintly” image. Then there’s Overheard at Franciscan, the Facebook group. This group could almost be de-
scribed as a counter-movement: in essence, it is a student-run site that has the sole purpose of quoting things that Franciscan Students say that are ridiculous. So, it pokes fun at this image of a Franciscan student. Ironically enough, comments on the group often degenerate into fierce arguments that flow back into proper conduct, behavior, and even beliefs. It bears repeating that the school will always care what the students are doing. But this helicopter thing and this Overheard at Franciscan thing stem from the same problem: the marketing thing. As the school becomes bigger, the constraints put on the image of “The Franciscan Student” should grow and change to fit a great number of people. By no means does this mean backing down from core principles or beliefs, or suddenly being okay with things like drunken parties and pranks. But recognize that spirituality is not a straight-jacket, and that trying to fit people’s experiences with God into the same cookie-cutter mold is not going to work. “The Franciscan Student” should be someone who seeks to transform himself before transforming the world.
Got A Boiling Idea? Add to the campus wide discourse. Email us: NotesToTheGadfly@gmail.com 4
The Gadfly
Watching Life or Living It Joseph Danaher
One can think back to when they were a little kid taking turns playing a game on the basketball court or the football field and remember the dissatisfaction of having to wait around on a bench and just watch. It was certainly more fun to play the game, to take part in the action, to affect the outcome of what was happening. Getting back onto the field or the court is the only thing that would make it worth sitting there. When it comes to a life in relation to the truth, it is all fine and good to know what the truth is and to be able to comprehend it. We can traverse the levels of our minds and find wonderful discoveries of who we are. We can speculate about all that we see. We can admire the good deeds done by heroes of the past. But one must ask: is that enough? If I know myself, if I know the ins and outs of all there is, if I know what everything good and evil is, am I then finished? Ought I be able to sit around content that I have done it all, all in my thought, all up in this mind of mine? Or is there a sphere which I must encounter and come to grips with that is not so certain – an arena in which uncertainty has its reign, and only the agile can dance in bliss? Soren Kierkegaard in his Concluding Unscientific Postscript speaks of such thinkers who believe they will achieve perfection by way of pure thought.
They think that they have figured out what faith is, for instance, by seeing historical evidence and detailed theories. The problem is that they are stuck in an abstract realm as they forget that they are existing as human beings in the real world. They ask what an idea is conceptually, yet they have no idea what it means to embody it, to live it out. Yet if one is to completely understand what something like sin is, one must look at oneself and say, “I am a sinner.” It is not enough for one to just know what love is, but one must act, one must love. Kierkegaard tells us that “[t]he highest and most beautiful things in life are not to be heard about, nor read about, nor seen but, if one will, are to be lived.” It is not enough to just know, but one must do. I am reminded of when concentration camp survivor Viktor Frankl tells his readers that one should not get hung up on finding out what the answer is to the meaning of life, but rather one should recognize what life has asked of him. It is easy to fall into the trap of trying to figure it all out and worry about this or that. But when it comes down to it, one must take responsibility for his life and meet the calls that duty demands of him. There is a certain fulfillment found in acting out what one ought to do. It may not always be enjoyable to work, to do homework, to raise children, etc. and it may at times feel 5
pointless. But when we realize that life is not about finding pleasure or comfort in every single instant, but rather about being all that one can be and helping make the world a better place, then perhaps we can start to take the resolve to accept our duties. Knowledge alone will never make the world a better place. We can learn about what is good, and we can teach the whole world the right things to do. The impact actually happens when we look at what we have been given and do that which is thereby required. We must choose to be ourselves as opposed to losing ourselves or trying to be someone else. And we must choose to act in a world to bring about change that is desperately needed. We must not miss out on fulfillment in life because we sat by and merely observed what makes up these souls of ours, because we merely thought about our fears, hopes, and dreams. We must not let evil triumph in society because we just watched it happen. Think today about who you are. Think of what abilities you have and what venues you have to utilize them. Before you even start thinking about how hard it will be to actualize your potential, go and do something with what you have been given, and you will find yourself happier than you could ever otherwise be.
V. XVIII
I.
Change. Daniel Romeyn Davis I have recently had this terrifying realization that I have changed. I am not the same person who began at Franciscan University as a Freshman in the Fall of 2009. Experiences and events in our lives shape who we are as persons. We have a core focus to which we cling in trying situations, but even that core can be shaken. Reflecting over my time at Franciscan University, I would say that I had a fairly good tenure. I co-founded Pater Noster Household and Students for a Fair Society, I was a member of the Honors Program, I served as the Editor-in-Chief of The Gadfly, I studied abroad at both the Austrian Campus as well as at the University of Oxford, and lastly, I made strong personal connections with both fellow students and professors. These experiences shaped my understanding of what Franciscan University is - warts and all. I have had more time to reflect upon these experiences recently, as I am no longer at Franciscan. This past May I graduated, leaving my Alma Mater with a Bachelors of Arts in History and Philosophy, to find myself working in the world of insurance and finance. I find myself in an unfamiliar environment although I am living with my parents in my hometown in the Monadnock Region of New Hampshire. It is unfamiliar insofar as I am not the same person as I was during my upbringing.
I find myself in a world of new circumstances. Whereas previously I had always been on the move, traveling one place or another, I am now situated in the same place for at least the next few years. I am working and earning my own money, beginning a new career, and gaining invaluable experience (whilst viciously paying back my student loans). I am learning how to structure my days and weeks around a consistent work schedule, which varies greatly from the life of an academic. I find myself going to bed before midnight, whereas previously I would find my greatest philosophical insights during the lonesome hours of one, two, and three o’clock in the morning. I have changed. So what exactly am I trying to convey to you, the esteemed reader of this fine publication? I suppose that I am encouraging you to not be afraid of change. After all, personal growth is a form of change (something which my dear friend, the current Editor-in-Chief of this publication would often tell me). My sense of many people at Franciscan University is that there is a phobia associated with change. Change can certainly be unsettling. Change can challenge previously held notions and beliefs. As persons, we all have individual histories, familial traditions, and other distinguishing factors which we take pride in; however, our experiences are not like an etching into stone (with us being the stone),
6
rather, experiences mold the person like a piece of clay. The danger associated with being afraid of change and new ideas is that we, like the clay, will become hardened and dry-out, and when changes in our life are forced upon us, we will shatter. It may sound odd, but we need to constantly keep our minds hydrated and stimulated with new ideas and experiences so that we embrace change and adapt with it, rather than break to pieces. Keeping oneself properly stimulated can be difficult at a place as homogeneous as Franciscan University, which is why you should always strive to keep an open mind and to not become so set in your own beliefs. We must strive to meet Christ in all people and not just in those who believe the same things. Agere sequitur credere.
The Gadfly
Write!
Revelutionary, continued from page 1 Chancellor of England, and was the first layman to do so. During this time, he unhesitatingly enforced the anti-heresy laws, but spared as many heretics from torture and death as he could. Unfortunately, the time eventually came for More himself to be on trial. In 1530, King Henry VIII issued a royal decree to the clergy declaring himself supreme head of the Church. Out of respect for the king but greater respect for the faith, More attempted to resign his position as chancellor but was denied. The more he opposed Henry over his divorce from Catherine
of Aragon, his views on papal supremacy, and the laws that dealt with heretics, the less favor More held with the king and in 1532, he resigned his position as Chancellor. He spent the next eighteen months writing in seclusion, until being questioned over his opinion of the king being supreme head of the Church. After refusing to affirm that the king had such power, and after being put on trial for high treason and a number of trumped-up charges, More was beheaded on July 6, 1535. In the same country under a different monarch 7
eighty years later, a small group of Catholics took steps to take their country back. The process of political machinations is too long and tedious to detail here, but the legend of the Gunpowder Plot is far better known and far more concise, even if it does not encompass the full account. It is commonly known that a small group of Catholic Englishmen attempted to blow up Parliament by first storing up barrels of gunpowder underneath the building. On November 5, 1605, the plot was exposed and Guy Fawkes, one of the noblemen, was guarding
Please continue on page 8
The Gadfly Revolutionary, continued from page 7 the barrels at the time. He was executed on January 31, 1606 for his involvement. Even though there were several other figures who were far more involved in the plot than Fawkes, he and his face – made famous by the mask featured in the 2005 film V for Vendetta – has become the symbol of the entire conspiracy, even before the film. It doesn’t take intense analysis to see the similarities between Thomas More and Guy Fawkes. The two men have a large number of relatively superficial common traits: both were Catholic, both were English, and both fought against a common enemy: Protestantism. Most ultimately, both died defending their
beliefs. But when this last point is put under greater scrutiny, a difference emerges. More died on the defensive while Fawkes died on the offensive. Thomas More took a passive approach and gave his life when it was absolutely necessary, but nevertheless he did not shrink from the call to martyrdom. Guy Fawkes, however, directly and openly opposed Protestantism in England and put himself in danger to depose his enemy. They two men have different approaches but one fate: the ultimate price for standing for a cause. More and Fawkes are two sides of the same coin: one dying defending a cause, the other dying fighting for a cause.
s ’ t a Th
Here at Franciscan, the concept of martyrdom is not foreign to us. To be asked if we would die for a cause – particularly our faith – the answer would usually be an emphatic yes. Such is part of the glory of Thomas More. But a harder question must be asked, one seldom asked since it is overshadowed by the previous question is, Would you die fighting for a cause? Here one can’t help but have some amount of admiration for Guy Fawkes, who sacrificed himself to cause change. Both More and Fawkes cause us to examine our consciences and ask one ultimate question: What would you die for?
! s k l o F k o l l o l A
w e n s ’ y l f d a G e h t r o ! f r k e t o t s o a e L y a m d e n u s S t e t x e d ne ek on Gau e p ! g k r a o e . n y s fl a d a t e G G n . a c s i P.S c n a r F 8