The Worden Report
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- Leading a German Coalition in the E.U.
- Part I: On the Eucharist as Theological Experience
- Part II: On the Eucharist and Idolatry
| Leading a German Coalition in the E.U. Posted: 30 Aug 2011 05:57 PM PDT In the E.U. state of Germany, Angela Merkel had her work cut out for her in getting her coalition to carry the German House, or Bundestag. In vesting the debt bailout fund with powers had been at the state level. The Wall Street Journal reported that conservatives feared the deal would "open to the door to relinquishing more sovereignty to the European Union." Also, the legislators in her Free/Christian Democrat coalition were having trouble justifying the increased cost to their constituents of the expanded fund even though it is geared to keeping the E.U. debt-loads at the state level from spinning out of control—meaning at the expense of the German economy. Economically, it can be argued that expanding the E.U.'s bailout fun is in the economic interest of the state of Germany and its residents. Merkel's coalition has 330 seats in the lower chamber. To do the heavy lifting on the legislation, the coalition would have to come up with 311 votes. The opposition parties, including the Social Democrats, the Green Party, and Die Links have indicated that their members would support the legislation. So the issue is not whether it will pass. Rather, the dire matter, according to the Wall Street Journal, is whether she will lose the credibility of her leadership of her coalition. In other words, if her people refuse to do her heavy-lifting, would that be tantamount to repudiating her as Chancellor? Moreover, would that make it difficult or impossible for her to govern? I contend that the problem for Merkel is overblown. In making the deal to expand the bailout fund, she was acting as the chief executive of the state, and its lower legislative chamber has more than enough votes in favor to pass the measure. If anything, the fact that the opposition parties have vowed to support the bill suggests that she has broad credibility in Germany as a whole, even if she loses some of her fellow conservatives on the vote. I don't believe that failing to bring along one's party on one vote heralds a politician's demise. Opposing one's party leader on one vote does not mean that the party leadership is set to collapse.
In terms of the concerns regarding further transfers of governmental sovereignty to the E.U. Government, this is realistic concern for those legislators who do not want any additional transfers. The monetary union alone implies more fiscal competencies (powers) at the E.U. level. Rather than bemoan such moves while retaining monetary union, the question is perhaps one of "both or neither." That is to say, the fiscal and monetary transfers should go in tandem, or not at all. To agree to a common currency while "having concerns" on transferring more fiscal sovereignty is a recipe for ruin of the federal system itself.
In short, Merkel's intra-coalition trouble may be overblown while the concerns over additional transfers of sovereignty should be taken seriously and debated at the state level across the E.U. While the concerns may not be of weight in Germany, they could be in other states, and that could spell disaster in going with continued monetary union without sufficient fiscal powers at the E.U. level.
Click to add a question or comment on Angela Merkel's troubles in her coalition on the bailout fund.
Source:
Vanessa Fuhrmans, "Merkel Faces Test Over Bailout Fund," Wall Street Journal, August 30, 2011.http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424053111904199404576538802351664930.html
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| Part I: On the Eucharist as Theological Experience Posted: 30 Aug 2011 06:00 PM PDT In castigating the salience of religion in the politics of the evangelical right wing of the G.O.P., Bill Keller of the New York Times took a swipe at Catholicism in remarking, "Every faith has its baggage, and every faith holds beliefs that will seem bizarre to outsiders. I grew up believing that a priest could turn a bread wafer into the actual flesh of Christ." I contend that the editor's characterization of consecration represents a misunderstanding of the Eucharist that is probably not uncommon in modern society. Actually, in the early years of the Church some non-Christians thought that the Christians were meeting to eat babies. It may be that the Eucharist is prone to being misunderstood—perhaps even by the Church itself. Hence Keller's point regarding every institutional religion having baggage may be correct even if his interpretation of the Eucharist is erroneous. None of us, even in our collective capacities, has a monopoly on truth. Indeed, as human beings we may even be hard-wired to be prone to self-idolatry in the name of religion. Such are the vaunted pretentions of mankind even to that which is beyond the limits of human cognition and perception. Under the circumstances, we would be well-advised to be relatively circumspect in how we impose our religious beliefs, particularly in the political domain but also in a religious context. Regarding the Eucharist, Bill Keller's use of "actual flesh" is misleading, for both actual and flesh point to an empirical basis or connotation. When we moderns typically say actual, we mean that something actually exists, which is to say that it is the case empirically in the world in which we live (i.e., based in the human domain). Keller's use of flesh confirms his usage of actual, for flesh is indeed found descriptively in the world, as in, The wolf ate the lamb's flesh. In German, the word for meat is Fleisch. To be blunt, a priest does not turn a wafer into meat. I'm not sure whether changing something from one food group to another would constitute a miracle anyway. This allusion to food groups is apt, for my approach stresses the utility of delimiting categories. I assume that the various realms, such empirical, metaphysical, and theological, are qualitatively different and distinct.
I contend that the Eucharist involves the application of a theological concept via social contract to an empirical object. The application is theological rather than empirical. The empirical realm is not that of theology, and vice versa. Van Rad makes this point in his text, History of Israel. To put it another way, theology is not historical facts even if allusions to history are used for theological purposes and given a theological meaning. The meaning does not proffer historical fact. Furthermore, theological concepts are not scientific concepts; the two domains are qualitatively different. For one thing, theological concepts are eternal, being of God, rather than being limited by, or a function of, time. There is thus an actual of theology, but it is not the actual of science.
Going in the other direction, neither is theology metaphysics; otherwise, religion would essentially be philosophy. One would be able to reduce God to Kant's things in themselves and simply call God "the Real." The realm of theology is not the realm of what is, or what really is. Rather, theology pertains to the nature of the divine. Put another way, if God is the condition or source of existence, then God cannot be existence itself—much less some empirical object existing.
Keller's claim reflects the empiricist reductionism of modernity, wherein actual is automatically assumed to apply exclusively to empirical facts on the ground. That there might be an actual applying to the heart, such as the Kingdom of God being within (rather than temporally to come, or empirical), seems to elude much of the modern world and even those who reduce the Kingdom to something visible coming on clouds at the end of time (as, say, within the lifetime of the generation alive when Jesus was preaching). Transcending temporal errors, Jesus says to the Pharisees, "The Kingdom of God isn't ushered in with visible signs. You won't be able to say, 'It has begun here in this place or there in that part of the country.' For the Kingdom of God is within you" (Lk 17:20-21). That is, it is already, and it is interior rather than empirical. Interior here should be taken in a distinctively theological sense, rather than as a location inside one's body, such as where one's physical heart (or brain) is. Also, Jesus is not making a metaphysical claim regarding the Kingdom; its existence is theological in nature. He is not saying that it is the Real, or that it alone is really real.
It is perhaps more problematic when a theological concept is applied to empirical objects, for the human propensity is to view the theological in empirical terms. We have trouble, moreover, in weeding our theological gardens of interlarding plants of other genres that have a tendency to take over the gardens and suffocate the distinctive theological fauna. Hence we tend to mislabel our gardens without realizing it. Our theological gardens tend to end up looking a lot like ourselves.
In terms of the Eucharist, the body and blood of Christ are really present theologically under the empirically actual "species" of bread and wine. In Catholicism, the real presence is a theological concept called transubstantiation. It is applied to empirically actual objects. The concept refers in turn to another theological concept—that of resurrected body—rather than to the empirical concept of "actual flesh." In a nutshell, Bill Keller has Jesus' earthly body rather than his resurrected body in mind. To think of a resurrected body on the basis of physical bodies is to reduce theology to physiology, or science. Augustine writes that the relation between the Father and the Son should not be thought of in terms of relationships between human dads and sons. By implication, the Son theological concept should not be thought of in terms of what a human son is. Hence Jesus says, "no one knows the Son except the Father" (Mt 11:27). We tend to ignore this and reduce begotten to made. But how can the Logos be created if it is that manifestation of the divine that creates? (Creates being itself a distinctively theological rather than cosmological or physical concept) By analogy, Kant argues that the rational nature has absolute worth because it assigns value—so it doesn't make sense to say that rational nature has a value. It would be like saying that the sun shines on itself!
Resurrected body does not apply empirically, hence an instance cannot be found within the human realm. This is the point that Keller missed in his essay. The real presence of Christ in the Eucharist is not actual flesh. Nor is the real presence metaphysical. The theological concept is applied to, rather than being empirically or metaphysically in the tangible objects themselves. Apart from applying the concept theologically, the consecrated bread and wine are just bread and wine. So if I slip a consecrated wafer in your sandwich while you are looking at the waiter or waitress and you eat the sandwich without applying the theological concept to the wafer (because you don't know it is in your sandwich)—you are being distracted by one of my abstract monologues by pretending to listen—it would indeed be stupid superstition to claim nonetheless that the eating of the wafer empirically somehow magically causes some theological transformation in you. I am sure some metaphysical stalwarts would beg to differ, but I would counter that such distinctions are not the stuff of mature faiths anyway so the debate is hardly worthwhile. All the while, the Kingdom of God is within, as though smiling at these artificial edifices we create to edify and bemuse ourselves (and impose on others).
The bottom line on the real presence thing is the theologically-felt experience of transformation or sanctification that can be induced by applying the theological concept to the bread and wine (via ritual). The application does not give rise to mere symbols; that would dilute the religious experience. Real presence corresponds to the theologically-real experience one has, which is not a mere symbol. In other words, experientially the theological "actual" is really felt or experienced and is thus present rather than merely something we think and talk about. Put still another way (I can see why Jesus probably used many parables), the real presence can be thought of as being one's theologically-resurrected body that is in transformation as part of the body of Christ—the Resurrection being the first fruits. We are on the vine ripening, as it were.
The unconsecrated wafers can be thought of as representing the members of the congregation in attendance as being willing to be sacrificed theologically at the altar, our bodies as spiritual worship. At the moment of consecration, our spiritual sacrifice is sanctified and returned as vindicated in divine terms (i.e., as the resurrected body of the innocent lamb). When we ingest the species, our respective beings and our experience become real presence theologically rather than empirically or metaphysically. Put still another way, real presence is not only applied to the two "species" of tangible objects (bread and wine) as a means of prepping the experience; the real presence (of Christ) also characterizes the interior, mystical experience as actual theologically as well as the transforming of our own resurrected bodies. Ultimately, I suppose it could be said that the experience itself is really present, theologically, as a resurrecting state. The experience "within" is Christ's presence. After all, the Kingdom of God is felt within, rather than visible or metaphysically real. To divert one's focus to the external objects themselves empirically or metaphysically—particularly while one is truly present in experiencing theological transformation—can be reckoned as the baggage that can unfortunately come with the ritually-prepping wherein real presence is applied exclusively to Jesus' resurrected body. In our religious experience, it is more accurate to say we enter a theological state that can be characterized as resurrecting rather than still focused on the external application (to that of the first fruits).
To be sure, there is a salient risk of idolatry, and even self-idolatry, in any religion in the human domain. Holding on to the application of real presence to Jesus' Resurrection and furthermore to the species of bread and wine after they have been ingested risks externalizing the experience wherein one is otherwise theologically in touch with the inner transformative resurrecting. Free will and our "atmosphere" wherein external objects are salient cannot but interfere with even the effulgent sunlight of the transcendent "shining" through a dark glass. In part II, I take up this point.
Click to add a question or comment on the real presence theological concept applied to the Eucharist.
Source:
Bill Keller, "Asking Candidates Tougher Questions About Faith," New York Times, August 25, 2011. http://www.nytimes.com/2011/08/28/magazine/asking-candidates-tougher-questions-about-faith.html?_r=1&ref=billkeller
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| Part II: On the Eucharist and Idolatry Posted: 30 Aug 2011 06:02 PM PDT To insist that the efficacy of the Eucharist lies in the objects themselves metaphysically or empirically rather than in the application of the theological concept evinces idolatry. The worship of an empirical object as being distinctly real conflates three qualitatively different domains. It represents a refusal to delimit the theological to the distinctly theological. In general terms, to say that a deity or the divine inhabits a particular tangible object is idolatry because the claim involves treating the empirical object as though it were real, and thus a referent transcending the limits of human cognition and perception. In effect, it is to treat human capacities in a presumptuous manner by over-extending them (and the human realm itself). Put another way, much less understandable way, idolatry artificially reduces the condition for existence to something that exists. In idolatry, that which transcends human cognition and perception is regarded as being known, and, indeed, even as something made by human hands! This is essentially self-idolatry where the object is made by mankind or resembles human beings (i.e., anthropomorphic). Even privileging an object in our realm theologically by applying a theological concept, such as is involved in the Eucharist, risks vaunting our empirical realm and our claims to metaphysical knowledge—and ultimately ourselves. The opportunity cost is the foregone religious experience of focused transcending wherein our realm is relegated, even if temporarily.
 Some idolatry in religion may be unavoidable unless one isolates religious experience from the symbol, myth and ritual that are used to stimulate it. David Hume theorizes in Natural History of Religion that human nature has an innate tendency to view the divine in human terms (i.e., to anthropomorphize). In Christianity, where God is love is taken to be the same in essence as love one another selflessly as preached and demonstrated by Jesus of Nazareth, idolatry is a real danger insofar as one pivots on the referent in taking the means for the end. Ok, admittedly, this requires some explanation of what I mean here. If you are a practicing Christian and take Communion, do you focus your gaze on the wafer changing hands or do you make eye contact with the other person of faith? How is the real theological presence transferred? In the eye contact (interpersonal) or the wafer (in the empirical object)? This is my body; but also, Where two or more of you are gathered, I am there. Ideally, one's focus on applying the theological concept to the empirical objects of bread and wine gives way to a moment of fellowship in making eye-contact with another disciple. Moreover, the application (and thus the object) theologically (and literally) dissolves within once one has ingested the food and drink physically; one's entire spiritual being becomes the real presence (or is really present theologically) felt as a theologically-transforming-into-resurrected-body. One doesn't think, Ok, Jesus is in my stomach now. Indeed, the entire congregation is transforming into the body of Christ, theologically. To divert one's attention from this living body of real theological presence in order to continue focusing on the application of a theological concept to the inanimate objects in the tabernacle may evince idolatry at the expense of felt spirituality and inner transformation after taking Communion. Indeed, even in adoring the real presence apart from taking Communion, the real presence is within, in the theologically real religious experience of yearning or reaching out for, or being silently open to divine presence. To focus on a tangible external object at that point is divert oneself from the intense intentionality that is needed for the distinctly religious experience. In other words, the application of the theological concept to the empirical objects is a means to the experience. The former naturally gives way to the latter, yet we block it by refusing to let go of the tangible. Idolatry is refusing to give into the unknowable and invisible transcendence, which goes beyond even words of prayer, by making a lower good higher because it is closer to us. In other words, idolatry involves misordered concupiscence wherein affinity to the human form or realm is given primacy. We resist being open to the divine presence by staying at an empirical/metaphysical level. I think this is the real danger (and opportunity cost) that comes with inordinate attention to empirical objects that we label as metaphysically significant in the name of religion (conflating three genres).
Bill Keller's point can be refashioned into: Hey, don't get too caught up on the empirical objects that you privilege as metaphysically real on religious grounds. The Kingdom of God is within you. It is of its mysteries that Jesus preached. "I must preach the good news of the kingdom of God to the other cities also; for I was sent for this purpose" (Lk 4:43). His parables were about his Father's kingdom rather than himself. To his disciples, Jesus says, "Unto you it is given to know the mysteries of the kingdom of God" (Mt 13:11). Accordingly, "he sent them out to preach the kingdom of God and to heal" (Lk 9:2). Rather than being the end, Jesus is here characterizing his role as a means to making known the Kingdom of God, which is within—already—and is the end being served.
To characterize Jesus even as theologically understood as the object and the end (rather than the means) makes it too tempting to direct all of one's attention on it at the expense of the transcending itself. To focus on the nature of a transcendent object rather than on the religious experience seems by definition to be self-defeating because the transcendent is beyond the limits of our cognition and perception. To have faith that there is a transcendent beyond is not to claim to know of it.
A monopoly of attention on the means essentially treats it as the end to which the means is oriented. In other words, it short-circuits the end (and thus the purpose of the means). If I am correct, the primary focus of historical Christianity should have been on the Kingdom of God, and specifically on the invisible principles (as taught and demonstrated by Jesus) by which one can more fully realize or experience our Father's realm within. The principle of compassion, for instance, as evinced in Jesus healing someone, could be the point of Christianity rather than what actions in the biblical narrative say about whom Jesus is. For example, Jesus brings the son of an otherwise-childless widow back to life and witnesses (in the story) conclude from this act that Jesus is a prophet. Is the point of the story Jesus' identity or the principle of compassion for strangers? The identity claim is only loosely linked to the principle, as evinced by the Crusades, when Christian soldiers fighting for Jesus killed rather than loved their enemies.
Generally speaking with respect to the history of Christianity beginning with the Apostles themselves, the identity of Jesus (which is presumably in the transcendent realm) has been allowed to eclipse the values or principles of the Kingdom of God, which Jesus is depicted as preaching. In terms of the Eucharist, affixing the identity metaphysically to tangible objects can set one up to commit idolatry by worshipping a tangible object. Alternatively, one's attention could be one's experience of transcendence as itself real presence. Accordingly, one could use the application of the theological concept to the empirical objects as a prep rather than an end in itself that should not be released or allowed to dissipate as one opens to raw experience of real presence of the unfathomable depths of what we call God. More generally, Christian ritual historically (and today) could have been more oriented to being understood and utilized as prep for the transformative real presence experience within (as isolated experience rather than distracted).
Perhaps in dismissing the Eucharist, Bill Keller has thrown the baby out with the bath-water on the basis of his recognition that it is all too human to fixate on visible objects that are means in order to treat them as ends. It is easier to focus on the object of a religion (e.g., the nature of Christ) even if religious referents are inherently beyond the limits of human cognition and perception. It is far more difficult, paradoxically even though it is within our grasp as human beings, to maintain intense religious experience, which can be experienced as a yearning or grasping for that which easily and inherently eludes our grasp. In other words, as a species fumbling around at religion, we have been undercutting our own efforts by focusing on the nature of unknowable objects rather than on transcending itself, which we can experience.
As Hume observes, we naturally anthropomorphize our deities by ascribing human qualities or characteristics to them. In so doing, we unwittingly limit ourselves in terms of the divine as well as our foregone opportunity to bring intensity to isolating religious experience so as to drink it pure without artificial ingredients. As Joseph Campbell pointed out, one's conception of the divine—a favored mask overlaid on the sea of eternity—is actually one's final obstacle to a religious experience.
We clutch onto our visible objects beyond their value as preps because we mistake the means for the end. Campbell described transcending as going through (rather than around) one's mask so as to break through to the raw experience itself. It is not denying or fighting against one's accustomed mask; rather, it is to realize its limitations and be willing to move on to that which it points. By analogy, as one enters a room, one does not keep holding onto the door. Whereas it is necessary to enter the room, one lets go of the door-nob quite naturally (i.e., without thinking) once one is walking inside the room. The walking is the religious experience that transcends even words—it is the transformation ultimately that is felt as real presence—and the door or passageway (i.e., means) pointing to our Father's Kingdom is the theological concept, Christ, as taught and demonstrated as a means by Jesus of Nazareth. The danger lies in stopping at the visible objects that are means or preps to the religious experience that is a yearning or reaching for what can only be beyondness to a finite being.
To posit a visible or tangible religious object as that beyondness represents the presumptuousness of self-idolatry that does not know even itself yet presumes so much. Ignorance that can't be wrong and is backed up by the aggression of self-vaunted authority smites the homo religious like an abortion and yet the self-idolatry is so much a part of what we take to be Wholly Other. In other words, we claim to know so much about the transcendent objects—even claiming that the nature of the objects should be our focus—and yet we don't even see what we are doing, or the extent to which we are doing it, as we unwittingly undercut ourselves (and impose it on others!) amid our religious edifices so unnecessarily.
Click to add a question or comment on on the human propensity to view the divine in human terms.
See: Part I Source:
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