Reflections: Oh, yeah? Sez you!

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I have been involved for the past several days in a comment thread over at Zippy Catholic which has veered—or caromed—off topic, becoming somewhat vituperative in the process. What began as an interesting (to me, anyway) discussion of the art of textual interpretation, has come to rip the scab off the Reformation, resulting in some finger-pointing and name-calling, neither of which, obviously, has anything useful or productive to say about hermeneutics. I doubt very much that anyone will want to read through the 100+ comments that brought us to such a pass; but, in the spirit of full disclosure, I provide the relevant link here.

Now, it so happens that I have been jotting down some pithy concepts on interpretation gleaned from Frank Kermode’s excellent and interesting text, The Genesis of Secrecy, to which I previously referred here. The following is particularly relevant to the position that I’ve been taking in the thread chez Zippy:

“Now that which requires to be disclosed must first have been covered, and this view of interpretation certainly implies that the sense of the parable is an occult sense. Its defenders like to say not that the interpreter illumines the text, but that the text illumines the interpreter, like a radiance. For this, as I said, is an outsider’s theory. It stems ultimately from a Protestant tradition, that of the devout dissenter animated only by the action of the spirit, abhorring the claim of the institution to an historically validated traditional interpretation.” [p.40]

This excerpt is sandwiched, in my notes, between those following (its place in the sequence may be discerned by the page number given), which I will post for context, without additional editorial comment. And I will invite my RC antagonists over to have a look at them, in hopes of elevating the level of discourse.

“Once free of the constraints of the simple primary sense, we begin to seize on those more interesting—let us say spiritual—senses that failed to manifest themselves in the course of a, let us say, carnal reading. Carnal readings are much the same. Spiritual readings are all different. Speculation thrives; we each want to say something different about the same text. Nor is there a foreseeable end to the things that might be said; one divination breeds another.” [p.9]

“[Interpretation] may go on to provide [a text] with a mythological structure, a satisfying spiritual order, instead of the trivial carnal order of the primary narrative. Should we go on to say, in a manner now modish, that the text, in the end, interprets itself or enacts its own interpretation? This is the latest of Hermes’ tricks, when the interpretation vanishes into the text, or the text into the interpretation.” [pp.9-10]

“The object of…interpretation is…sometimes said to be to retrieve, if necessary by benign violence, what is called the original event of disclosure. This is the language of Heidegger; he takes the Greek word for “truth,” alētheia, in its etymological sense, “that which is revealed or disclosed, does not remain concealed.” Every hermeneutic encounter with a text is an encounter with Being as disclosed in it. For Heidegger indeed, it is the very fact that one is outside that makes possible the revelation of truth or meaning; being inside is like being in Plato’s cave.” [p.39]

If you’ve come over, welcome. Your serve.
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Interlude: Fit to Be Piqued

The other day I was pointed by Zippy Catholic in the direction of a blog that humbly promised to give me the skinny concerning “What’s Wrong With the World.” It seemed that it would be imprudent not to check that out. Well, this is the post on the top of the heap when I took the plunge. If you will follow me there, you will discover a graphic of a crusading knight rampant, and another of a two-headed eagle. Beneath the eagle we find words to the effect that what is wrong with the world is a combination of Jihad and, even worse, Liberalism! It’s that hirsute troglodyte UBL, and that porcine libertine sot, Teddy Kennedy, in league to do us all to death, by water, if not by fire.

The author of the blog, who can possibly boast of a clique of loyalists calling themselves the Cella Dwellas, says things like:

“I believe that Christ opposes wickedness; I believe that the Jihad is wicked. Therefore I feel that it should be opposed.”

So far, so good. I, too, believe that Christ opposes wickedness. I certainly wouldn’t argue with the conjecture that jihad, in the current mode of blowing up pizza parlors and knocking down skyscrapers, with the sole purpose of killing innocent people who are merely going about the business of their daily lives, is wicked. That, too, should be opposed. No doubt about it.

But, then, as I read further into the post, I began to experience just a soupçon of discomfort as I encountered rhetoric such as:

“But my motivation in this call is still grounded in patriotism, informed by a firm judgment of the justice of the cause. And my patriotism is ineffaceably what it is because of Christ. God the Father made the world and called it good; and then God the Son entered it bodily. Patriotism is forever changed by the Incarnation. Behold, I make all things new.”

Silly me. I had thought patriotism was forever changed--along with everything else—by 9/11. Turns out, it's been an a priori done deal since the first century. Ah well, when in Rome…

But wait, there’s more:

“This land that I love, I love because I can trust the promises of God about the goodness of His creation. I trust, also, that Scripture gives me leave to pray that my land will pursue justice (which our Constitution also calls us to do), and to work for it as a citizen.”

Boy-o, boy. That comes really close to conflating Holy Scripture with the U.S. Constitution. Too close, despite the following disclaimer:

“America is an imperfect part of an imperfect whole. It is right to love her; though it would be quite wrong to conflate this love with Christian discipleship. I do not think I have done that.”

Din’cha? Apparently one’s man’s Jihad is another man’s Crusade. I am more than willing to suggest that the so-called War on Terror doesn’t even come close to fulfilling the conditions of Just War theory, never mind being ordained by the Prince of Peace.

But, hey—you’ve got the links. Check it out and see what you think.

Readings: Gittin' Zippy Wid It

Over on Zippy Catholic, Zippy has an interesting discussion going on under a post entitled “Material Prosperity Is Immoral.” In the penultimate paragraph of his post, Zippy writes: “The bottom line is that poverty is a sign (though not a dispositive sign) of virtue, and wealth is a sign (though not a dispositive sign) of vice: not merely in the case of individuals but in the case of economic systems. If we are not self consciously making choices that we know are reducing our material prosperity from what it could be, we are doing evil.” I will readily admit that the reasoning which gets him to that point is soaring way over my head. However, when Zippy says, in response to one of his commenters, “…greed is immoral” he strikes a responsive chord in me.

Just now, as I continued my reading in Simone Weil’s essay “God in Plato” I was provided with words that are descriptive of the problem that I have with the pursuit of “material prosperity” (whatever that is). Weil’s context here is an exposition on the grace of the beauty of the natural world as a source of spiritual energy:

“Various objects can be sources of energy, but of energy on different levels. For example, in war a decoration is really a source of energy (in the literal, physical sense of the word) on the level of military courage; it stimulates movements for which otherwise one would lack the strength. Similarly money, for work.”

I don’t know if I can buy her idea that medals provide soldiers with physical energy; but I certainly agree that money is an effective motivator of work. She continues:

“In a general way, whatever there is a desire for is a source of energy, and the energy is on the same level as the desire. Beauty as such is a source of energy on the level of spiritual life, and the reason is that the contemplation of beauty implies detachment.”

I’m going to give her this, if only because I whole-heartedly agree with the conclusion to which this statement leads her:

“The energy supplied by other objects of desire can only be transmuted into spiritually usable energy through an act of detachment or refusal—declining the decoration or giving away the money.”

In other words, the pursuit of objects of desire (other than beauty), including material prosperity (however one defines it) might be seen as “immoral” in that it tends to exhaust the energy that might otherwise be available for the pursuit of spiritual advancement. One has, in effect, chosen against the Good. I think that this can also be seen as applicable to transcendent entities, such as nations. I have no idea if this is compatible with what Zippy is getting at, but his is how I see it.