Showing posts with label Father Angelo Mary Geiger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Father Angelo Mary Geiger. Show all posts

Sunday, July 12, 2009

We the papal
U.S. repackaging of Church teachings on sex muddles the message

A guest post by FR. ANGELO MARY GEIGER F.I.

In the light of John Paul II’s landmark teaching on human love in the divine plan, called Theology of the Body, there has been a recent effort in the United States to repackage the Church’s teaching on marriage and sexuality in “more positive” terms.

It is said that the Holy Father was reacting against “prudish Victorian morality,” especially prevalent in the United States, much in the same way that the sexual revolution was a reaction against “sexual repression.” The difference, we are told, is that John Paul II’s teaching consists of a beautiful vision for marriage, not the world’s pernicious justification of lust.

Now while this modern sex-saturated age benefits from the beauty of the truth of God’s original plan for conjugal love, we run the risk of going off the rails if we make prudery the bogeyman for our pornographic age. Modern man is not preoccupied with fear of the body and of sexuality. Modern man is largely afraid of suffering and of dying. This is also true within the Church.

Pope Benedict XVI critiqued modernity’s obsession with erotic love in his first encyclical, Deus Caritas Est, without denying a real problem with prudery:

“Nowadays Christianity of the past is often criticized as having been opposed to the body; and it is quite true that tendencies of this sort have always existed. Yet the contemporary way of exalting the body is deceptive. Eros, reduced to pure “sex”, has become a commodity, a mere “thing” to be bought and sold, or rather, man himself becomes a commodity. This is hardly man's great “yes” to the body. On the contrary, he now considers his body and his sexuality as the purely material part of himself, to be used and exploited at will."

The answer to this problem is not a new “holy” focus on all things erotic, but a subordination of eros to agape. In the Benedict XVI’s language eros is “possessive love,” not bad in itself, but in need of being put in the service of agape or “oblative” (sacrificial) love. God wants us all to be happy, but the way to happiness is through sacrifice.

The place we learn this more than anywhere else is at the foot of the Cross, where the Hearts of Jesus and Mary are united in the wedding banquet of the Lamb and through which we are united to God by our participation in these mysteries in the reception of Holy Communion. But first of all, the Cross is the mystery of oblative love. The Hearts of Jesus and Mary are opened for all mankind through the suffering and sorrow of their sacrifice. Theirs is a battle against our ancient enemy. While mankind has generally been the loser in this struggle, this new Man and Woman conquer by means of their fortitude, that is, by means of their willingness to face death. This is more agape than eros.

But the fruit of agape is eros, because victory leads to joy and life. Christ the King with His blessed Mother the Queen reign forever in the bliss of heaven because in this place of exile they overcame the enemy. This must be the standard of our own effort to subordinate eros to agape.

Most Catholics are not afraid of their bodies. They are afraid of death. By definition, the virtue of fortitude is endurance in the face of suffering and death. In reference to the cross and our participation in its mystery St. Bonaventure says: “Whoever loves this death can see God because it is true beyond doubt that man will not see me and live” (Itinerarium Mentis in Deum 7.6, quoting Ex. 33:20). Modern man needs to continue in the struggle against lust while striving also to see the beauty of God’s plan for love. The focus of our lives needs to be on the Cross where we find the Hearts of Jesus and Mary.

It seems to me that John Paul II’s Theology of the Body and Benedict’s XVI’s analysis of eros and agape fit hand in glove. We should avoid using the profound insights of either pope to conduct a local crusade. In the real battle we cannot afford to lose our focus.

Father Angelo Mary Geiger, a Franciscan Friar of the Immaculate, blogs at MaryVictrix.com.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Virgo redacta
Christopher West and the dangers of overanalogizing Mary

A guest post by FR. ANGELO MARY GEIGER F.I.
Our Lady of the Sign

Throughout the recent debate concerning the theology and methodology of Christopher West there has been considerable back and forth regarding the specific instances in which West might be taken as representing a line of thought out of step with Catholic tradition. Rather than answer all the specifics of the latest critiques of Prof. Schindler by Profs. Smith and Waldstein, I would like to focus on several examples of West that are often referred to in discussions and which I find poorly represented by him. The larger point of my focusing on these instances, I submit, is to illustrate how West undermines reverence by basing much of his unveiling on arguments not sufficiently based on fact.
I will take two of the best-known topics of West's writings and talks to make my point, though I allege there are more which I might illuminate at another time. They are 1) his reference to the paschal candle as a phallic symbol and the rites associate with it as a symbolic simulation of the conjugal act, 2) his penchant for unveiling the body of the Blessed Mother.

The “Phallacy” of the Candle

In The Everlasting Man G.K. Chesterton recalls a conversion he once had with a walking companion as they rested in the shadow of a church along the way. The companion asked: “Do you know why the spire of that church goes up like that?” When Chesterton had “expressed a respectable agnosticism,” the man went on: “Oh, the same as the obelisks; the Phallic Worship of antiquity!” After a moment of silence Chesterton replied: “Why, of course, . . . if it hadn’t been for phallic worship, they would have built the spire pointing downwards and standing on its own apex!” (p. 1, c. 8).
And that is basically my first point. We should all remember that the Paschal Candle is rather large, round and long, because, well, it’s a big candle. The size and shape are purely and perfectly functional as the candle in general is a masterpiece of engineering. In particular, this candle’s erectile contour is so prominent because it is to be the principal source of light and the focal point within the Church at the beginning of the Easter Vigil. The great Easter Praeconium weaves its verses around the candle proclaiming the candle’s obvious function with liturgical elegance. It is described as a “pillar of fire . . . shining to the honor of God,” because its purpose is to “dissipate the darkness of this night.” The Praeconium continues:
Let the morning star find its flame alight. That star, I mean, which knows no setting. He who returning from hell, serenely shone forth upon mankind.
And so the focus point of the Liturgy of Light is the Paschal Candle, because it is a functional instrument of light and its symbolism, very clearly, refers to the risen Christ. Easter is the beginning of an eternal day that is founded on the Resurrection of Christ. The vigil begins in darkness (death) and ends in light (life), at first that light comes only from Christ (the paschal candle) and then, after we have proclaimed: Lumen Christi! (Christ our Light), that light (life) is spread to the rest of us.
It seems, then, safe to assume, unless any phallic liturgical formularies can marshaled to the contrary, that the liturgy itself makes it clear that we are to understand the Paschal Candle to symbolize Christ, and its light, the Resurrection.

JPII Easter

In her latest piece Prof. Smith admits that she was originally uncomfortable with West’s assertion that the symbolism of the Paschal Candle is an illustration of the Church’s sexual liturgical imagery:
I was appalled. Actually any reference to phallic symbols appalls me – I think mine may be a prudish response – and, in this context, I thought it was vulgar and irreverent. Imagine my surprise to learn that liturgists and theologians from the early days of the Church have understood the Easter Candle just as West does. Recently a priest – one who is a great public apologist for orthodoxy – told me that he thinks many priests are acutely aware of the sexual symbolism of the Easter candle/holy water font imagery during the Easter liturgy. I was humbled when I realized my judgment had been based upon ignorance and prudery. I think giving a list of phrases that will shock without context invites people to make judgments based on ignorance and prudery. I don’t in fact know why Schindler objects to West’s claim about the tradition of the Easter candle.
I will say that when I first heard of this phallic reference from West, I was appalled also, and still am. But the great Prof. Smith now tells us that we should all feel ashamed of our prudery because there are nameless “liturgists and theologians from the early days of the Church,” who clearly understood the submersion of the Paschal Candle into the baptismal font during the rite of the blessing of baptismal water to be a symbolic simulation of the conjugal act. I know that West has been teaching this, at least since 1999, and at least since 2001 he has had to defend his use of this imagery. To this day I still have never heard the names of these early Christian “liturgists and theologians” or seen a reference in order to find the respective texts in support of this theory. I am willing to hear the names and read the texts, but until I do, I will just have to assume that there are none.

In his 2001 “An Open Letter to A Concerned Listener,” West refers the reader to Christopher Derrick’s Sex and Sacredness, without quotation or specific reference. One must just assume that Derrick actually argues for the symbolism West has adopted. However, in his latest book, Heaven's Song, he again defends his assertion regarding the Paschal Candle, but this time with a actual quote from Derrick’s book. Unfortunately, there is absolutely no mention of the Paschal Candle in the quotation (170-171). I, therefore, withhold shame over my prudery until some valid authority is found for this theory.

In regard to the symbolism of the baptismal font, which I suspect is the actual basis for West’s contention, there is some authority.  Saint Didymus of Alexandria, writes “the water of baptism is like a virginal womb, and the same Spirit who came down upon Mary, fills the sacred font.” Furthermore, the formulary of the vetus ordo of the Roman Rite during the blessing of the baptismal water reads:
May [the Spirit] by a secret mixture of His divine virtue render this water fruitful for the regeneration of men, to the end that a heavenly offspring, conceived by sanctification, may emerge from the immaculate womb of this divine font, reborn a new creature: and may all, however distinguished in body by sex or in time by age, be born into one same infancy by grace their mother.
When the candle is dipped thrice into the font the priest says each time: “May the virtue of the Holy Spirit descend into all the water of this font.” And after breathing three times on the water the priest says: “And make the whole substance of this water fruitful for regeneration.”

Note well, however, that the font’s womb symbolism when combined with the actual non-phallic symbolism of the paschal candle and the accompanying gesture is not tantamount to symbolic copulation. In fact, in the context of the above quotes and the received theological tradition, the symbolism of the font refers to the gestational womb, not female genitalia, as is the case when Elizabeth says to Our Lady: “Blessed is the fruit of your womb.”

Why is this so? Because the fundamental conception of baptism is that of rebirth. In Baptism we are born of water and the Holy Spirit (Jn. 2:5). As St. Thomas Aquinas says, reflecting the entire tradition:
This regeneration is effected by Baptism, for just as a man cannot live in the flesh unless he is born in the flesh, even so a man cannot have the spiritual life of grace unless he be born again spiritually (Exposition of the Apostles’ Creed, art. 10).
The prayers over the water reflect exactly this regenerational (rebirth) understanding.
In order to understand this symbolism with precision it is necessary to go further. There is a relationship between the Christ symbolism of the Paschal Candle and the invocations of the Holy Spirit over the water.

Bap Jordan

Christ (the Paschal Candle) descends into the water in order to make it holy just as He did in His baptism in the Jordan by St. John. Regeneration begins with the Incarnation and is extended to fallen man by the Incarnate Word as he establishes the sacramental system. But our rebirth actually begins earlier with the conception of Christ in the womb of Mary, where the Holy Spirit overshadows the Virgin and through His power She conceives the Son of God, who then later in the humanity He received from Her, sanctifies the waters of regeneration with His own body in the Jordan as the Holy Spirit hovers above. That virgin body of Christ will remain the incorruptible source of life, even when it is laid in the tomb for three days after His redemptive sacrifice. Our Lord rises incorrupt from the sealed tomb, just as He escaped from his Mother’s womb, without breaking the seal. Here is St. Peter Chrysologus (d. 450) on the subject:

Him whom sealed virginity had brought to this life, the sealed tomb would return to eternal life. It is characteristic of divinity to leave the Virgin sealed after birth; it is also characteristic of divinity to go out from the sealed tomb with the body (Sermo 75, 3: CCL, 24 A).

In a way that is exactly parallel to the virgin births of Christ (from the Virgin and from the tomb) we are also born not of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God (Jn 1:13). In other words our regeneration takes place in a series of virgin births (or conceptions): the Incarnation; the Resurrection; our baptism.

Read the quote from Saint Didymus of Alexandria again: “the water of baptism is like a virginal womb, and the same Spirit who came down upon Mary, fills the sacred font.” Baptism is, in fact, parallel to the virginal conception of Jesus. The waters of baptism are plainly virginal.
Futhermore, in the Didache, a first century anonymous work that includes liturgical instructions to the early Church, we read:
Having first said all these things, baptize into the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, in living water. But if you have no living water, baptize into other water; and if you cannot do so in cold water, do so in warm (c. 7).
The water of baptism is not some kind of bodily coital fluid. We are not inseminated by the warm waters of baptism. The water is “cold” and “living,” because through it we are washed clean of our sins and regenerated virginally. We enter the water dead and rise from it in new life. The Bride of Christ has been sanctified, cleansed by the laver of water in the word of life (Eph. 5:26). The womb imagery can only be taken so far, and certainly not so far as to suggest coitus.

resurrection-fra-angelico

Furthermore, West’s interpretation is also partly based on the repetition of the submersing of the candle in the font, suggesting that this is a simulation of copulation. But why really are their three submersions, rather than one? Because the imagery is baptismal. After all we are talking about the blessing of baptismal water in the baptismal font. We are baptized with a Trinitarian formula, and at the name of each of the three persons the catechumen is immersed in the water (or infused with it). The submersion is not a penetration, but a descent into death; the emersion is a resurrection to new life.
Know you not that all we who are baptized in Christ Jesus are baptized in his death? For we are buried together with him by baptism into death: that, as Christ is risen from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we also may walk in newness of life (Rm 6:3-4).
What is simulated in the Easter rite is not copulation, but the death and resurrection of Christ under the sign of the Blessed Trinity.

I would submit that the symbolism supported by my arguments is indisputably the primary liturgical reference. Is it hypothetically possible that there might be another layer? Certainly, but it would have to be consistent with what is primary, and I do not see how copulation can be reconciled with life conceived and born virginally. There is no question that the primary images associate with the rebirth of baptism and with the blessing of its waters are the virginal conception of Jesus, His baptism in the Jordan, and the Resurrection, all of which are virginal. Furthermore, the quote of St. Didymus, understood in the very context of the liturgical rites used to bless the water, indicates that the sanctification of the water is virginal. And the reference to the “Immaculate womb” of the font in the rite of blessing is clearly Marian and, therefore, virginal.

To suggest otherwise is to suggest that both the Church and the Blessed Mother are not virginal but, rather, sexually penetrated by the Holy Spirit. I know West would gasp and completely deny that he intends this, but regardless of what he intends that is what is objectively suggested by his interpretation of the imagery.

In any case, the contrary would have to be established by the evidence of a valid tradition developed over the ages. Certainly, the burden of proof is on West and not on those who are appalled by his use of phallic liturgical imagery. I am waiting, but I won’t hold my breath.

Shameless Nakedness

angelico_annunciation

As we have already noted there is a parallel between the virginal conception and birth of Jesus from Our Lady and the virginal conception of holiness in the Easter water. West has a penchant for unveiling feminine images and penetrating them with his interpretation of the Theology of the Body. In fact, he urges us also to unveil the Blessed Mother. We have already intimated this from his treatment of the Easter liturgy.

For years he has told a personal story of his own sexual transformation, of how he resolved a terrible temptation against chastity that he was experiencing during a time before the Blessed Sacrament by recalling all the pornographic images to which he had previously exposed himself and that he could still remember. He brought them up one by one and then asked the Lord to heal him of his twisted view of sexuality and to allow him to see the truth of the goodness of the body. When he was all done, he saw the Blessed Virgin Mary breastfeeding the infant Jesus. He says at that moment he knew what he had always been looking for when he was using pornography.

In his 1999 “Naked without Shame” tapes, he suggests that this might have been a mystical experience. I mention this, even though in his more recent presentations he may not refer to any mystical phenomena, because I think it is telling. In any case, the presentation of the story, done in West’s imitable style, lends a sense of authority to the ideas he is promoting. I will not pass judgment on his personal experience, but I will question its revelation and use to discourage prudery among the average faithful Catholic.

This story sets the tone for many of the ways in which West unveils the Blessed Mother in the interests of being “fascinated” in a holy way with the human body and avoiding prudery (cf. Heaven’s Song, pp. 37-52). I would suggest this proclivity of his has nothing to do with the teaching of John Paul II, and finds no authority in the tradition of the Church.

I am well aware of the iconographical tradition of Maria Lactans (Mary Breastfeeding), such as the many images in Italy of Madonna delle Grazie. This is an old and venerable tradition that once was very widespread and continues in various parts of the world down to this day. Sandra Meisel’s excellent article on this subject is well worth the read. I just part company with her when she, like West, chides anyone who might be a bit squeamish about such images.

I would surmise that that these images became popular when it was common to see women breastfeeding. Living in the Philippines some years ago, I was at times shocked to see women breastfeed in public with little if any effort to cover up—sometimes even in Church! No one made anything of it. I admit I was scandalized.

In America men generally consider exposure of a woman’s bosom provocative, and I assert that men who are trying to live chastely find the such exposure inappropriate, not because they think the female body is evil, or because they have a sexual hang up, but because they find too much exposed flesh in that area, regardless of the context, sexually arousing. Period.

I have been a guy for my whole life and a priest for more than sixteen years. I know well enough how men think. Women can pooh-pooh this all they want, but there is really nothing more complicated, sub-conscious or deep and dark about it than plain old male libido.
I personally have no problem with Maria Lactans, if it is done without the Classical, Pre-Raphaelite or such-like voluptuousness. It was only due to the preponderance of such images that nudity in sacred art “with a beauty exciting to lust” was condemned by the Council of Trent:
Moreover, in the invocation of saints, the veneration of relics, and the sacred use of images, every superstition shall be removed, all filthy lucre be abolished; finally, all lasciviousness be avoided; in such wise that figures shall not be painted or adorned with a beauty exciting to lust; nor the celebration of the saints, and the visitation of relics be by any perverted into revellings and drunkenness; as if festivals are celebrated to the honour of the saints by luxury and wantonness (Canons and Decrees, sess. 25).
Meisel refers in her article to the “decorous reforms of Trent,” in a not altogether favorable context, but admits that not all the images of Maria Lactans and Maria Gravida (Mary with Child) were destroyed subsequent to Trent. In fact, the council was able to distinguish the difference between the moral character of various visual images. Lust is not only a matter of interior disposition. There are in fact concrete non-subjective factors that excite lust.

In any case, I do not think, as West has suggested, that the image of Maria Lactans, however it is executed, needs to be used as a tool for the exorcism of prudishness, or that we should ask ourselves why it might make us uncomfortable and chide ourselves for having unresolved sexual tensions.
But my problem with West on this score runs considerably deeper than his attitude toward the image of Maria Lactans. In his latest book, Heaven’s Song, he has quite a bit on the Blessed Mother, which in my opinion, though I know he is sincere and well intentioned, is grossly irreverent and smacks of blasphemy.

Just as some things are just objectively immodest, some things are just objectively irreverent. As I have already shown in the section on the Paschal Candle, playing fast and loose with Christian symbolism can end by suggesting some pretty irreverent things, such as the loss of Our Lady’s virginity.

Our Lady is the Ark of the Covenant. A bit of advice of all Uzzah’s of the world: Don’t touch the Ark (cf. 1 Chronicles 13:10). Leave it behind the veil. God is not likely to strike anyone dead, but some things are too holy to be violated by our paltry eyes and hands. (And no that does not mean I think our eyes and hands are evil, just not worthy to unveil the Blessed Mother.)

Ark
Here again West invokes authority for his opinion, but in the convoluted way which seems to be somewhat habitual for him. He argues that some of the inspiration for John Paul II’s Theology of the Body was the given through the pope’s familiarity with the Marian writings of St. Louis de Montfort (78-79). In this context he analyses a particular passage of Treatise on True Devotion to Mary:
As St. Louis de Montfort put it, God sent his angel to Mary “in order to win her heart.” And on account of the “hidden delights” of his divine proposal, ‘she gave her consent.” At that moment, God poured a “chalice of ambrosia” into the womb of his virgin bride and opening to his “divine nectar,” she conceived God’s own Son. Such imagery would have given my wonderful but rather prudish grandmother cardiac arrest. For anyone experiencing palpitations de Montfort reminds us plainly: “These are the comparisons mad by the saints” (TD, nn. 252-253) (30).
This would be all well and good, except for one thing: St. Louis does not say what West claims he does. Here is the passage from True Devotion:
252. Chosen souls, slaves of Jesus in Mary, understand that after the Our Father, the Hail Mary is the most beautiful of all prayers. It is the perfect complement the most High God paid to Mary through his archangel in order to win her heart. So powerful was the effect of this greeting upon her, on account of its hidden delights, that despite her great humility, she gave her consent to the incarnation of the Word. If you say the Hail Mary properly, this compliment will infallibly earn you Mary’s good will.

253. When the Hail Mary is well said, that is, with attention, devotion and humility, it is, according to the saints, the enemy of Satan, putting him to flight; it is the hammer that crushes him, a source of holiness for souls, a joy to the angels and a sweet melody for the devout. It is the Canticle of the New Testament, a delight for Mary and glory for the most Blessed Trinity. The Hail Mary is dew falling from heaven to make the soul fruitful. It is a pure kiss of love we give to Mary. It is a crimson rose, a precious pearl that we offer to her. It is a chalice of ambrosia, a divine nectar that we offer her. These are comparisons made by the saints [emphasis mine].
St. Louis is speaking about the Hail Mary not the virginal conception of Jesus in Her womb. The “chalice of ambrosia” and “divine nectar” are not references to some kind of supernatural seminal fluid. They are references to the consoling character of the prayer of the Hail Mary. (BTW, West repeats the same argument in a web column as well, entitled “The Spousal Mystery of Christmas“).

This does not merit a line-by-line parsing. This coital imagery is suggested by West alone, not by the saint or by the pope, and so is proposed without real authority. Thus, no one should be brow beaten into feeling bad about their discomfort with it. What West claims is just not there. Perhaps he should have taken his poor grandmother more seriously.

Why is it that Christopher West argues for the existence coital imagery in the blessing of the baptismal font and in the Annunciation, doing so on the basis specious appeals to authority? I am not inquiring about his intentions, but I do see a pattern of thought which suggests to me that West is certain that John Paul II is clearly mandating that we become fascinated with the human body as a way of spiritual renewal. He then goes about and forces this interpretation on everything. As Prof. Schindler says:
In the end, West, in his disproportionate emphasis on sex, promotes a pansexualist tendency that ties all important human and indeed supernatural activity back to sex without the necessary dissimilitudo.
On the same page of Heaven’s Song where West misinterprets St. Louis, he makes his interpretation of the symbolic role of Mary in the Theology of the Body clearer:
With her freely given “yes”—and only with her freely given yes—the Heavenly Bridegroom rejoices to pour his eternal, immortal, invisible seed (his Word) within her, filling her “impregnating” her with divine life” (30).
I am not even sure who he is talking about here. Who is it that he is calling Bridegroom in the context of this insemination? Christ, (the Word) in the context of Ephesians 5? Surely, he is not going there. Christ certainly does not impregnate the Blessed Mother. So then the Holy Spirit must be the Bridegroom who impregnates Her with His Seed (the Word)? Is the fruit of Mary’s womb, then, the Word or what is conceived by the Word?

I have no gripe with referring to Mary as Spouse of the Holy Spirit, or even as Spouse of Christ. St. Francis of Assisi, for example is one of the first to speak of Mary as Spouse of the Holy Spirit:
Holy Virgin Mary, there is none like you among women born in the world. Daughter and handmaid of the heavenly Father, the almighty King, Mother of our most high Lord Jesus Christ, and Spouse of the Holy Spirit, pray for us to your most holy Son, our Lord and Master (Antiphon to the Office of the Passion).
And in another prayer he develops this idea:
. . . You are the Virgin made Church (Virgo facta Ecclesia), chosen by the most holy Father of heaven and consecrated by Him with His most holy beloved Son and the Holy Spirit, the Paraclete. On you descended and in you still remains all the fullness of grace and every good. Hail, His Palace; hail, His Tabernacle; hail His House. Hail his Robe; hail, His Handmaid; hail, His Mother. And hail all you holy virtues, who by the grace and the light of the Holy Spirit, are infused into the hearts of the faithful, so that faithless no longer, they may be made faithful servants of God through you (Salutation of the Blessed Virgin).
Mary Francis Angels

Our Lady’s spousal relationship to the Holy Spirit is seen here in the context of the His mission of sanctification, the paradigm of which is the Annunciation, a virginal conception which illumines the meaning of our infusion (not impregnation) with grace and virtue in baptism. Our Lady is the Virgin made Church, and so the Church, along with its members, is virgin made. The Holy Spirit does not beget Christ. He is not His father.

St. Ephrem in the fourth century is the first to refer to Mary as the Spouse of Christ:
. . I am mother because of Your conception, and bride am I because of your chastity. Handmaiden and daughter of blood and water [am I] whom You redeemed
and baptized (quoted in Gambero, 117).
Here again this spousal attribution has nothing to do with begetting as is obvious from the reference to chastity.

These are venerable traditions. But they simply do not translate into the absurd and idea that Christ could be his own father or that the Holy Spirit is the father of Jesus.

The fact is that in the tradition of the Catholic Church the Holy Spirit is not referred to as the Father of Jesus. Our Lord has only one Father from whom He is eternally generated as Son. He has a Father in heaven, but no mother. And we say that on earth He is conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary. He has a Mother on earth, but no father. St. John Chrysostom (d. 407) writes:
The Son of God has no father and no mother. But how? Yes, he is without a father according to his earthly generation; he is without a mother according to his heavenly generation. For he had neither a father on earth nor a mother in heaven (Gambero, 179).
The Church is precise when she says that Mary conceives the Christ virginally through the power of the Holy Spirit. And this is why she avoids speaking of the Virgin’s impregnation. There is no supernatural insemination. There is no coital metaphor by which we come to better understand the virginal conception of Our Lord in Our Lady’s womb.

Again, because West artificially forces his particular view of TOB on everything he looks upon, he unwittingly insinuates that Our Lady is penetrated by the Holy Spirit and that there is some carnal insemination or physicality of the Third Person of the Blessed Trinity. I know full well that West does not intend this, but he jumps in where angels (and Fathers of the Church) fear to tread and then finds the implications of his assertions staring back at him. This is precisely why the Church does not use these metaphors in the way he does.

West rightly understands that analogy works two ways, both up and down (cf. Heaven’s Song, 132-133); however, I think he is confused when he suggests that the higher heavenly realities point downward. No, the earthly realities point upwards because they are visible signs of heavenly realities, and the truth of the heavenly realities, given to us through divine revelation, help to illumine the meaning of the earthly signs, but they are not signs themselves. In the case of the middle realities like the virginal conception, they are signs, yes, but they point up not down. There is no divine coitus that points down to the virginal conception, and Our Lady’s conception of Jesus does not point further down to the coition of the baptismal waters. In fact, the virginal conception, sans divine coitus, points up to the fulfillment of spousal love as it is realized in the unitive way and the beatific vision. And it illumines the signs below it without itself being a sign of lower things, by focusing our attention on the true meaning of earthly marital love, namely, the love of Christ for the Church and the love and obedience of the Church to Christ.

It is a responsibility of a theologian to be aware of the possible implications of his use of analogy, including those that he may not intend. For many who do not understand theology, they may not find all of this a big deal; however, Schindler points out what, early on in the history of an idea, might appear only to be a minor point, once clarified theologically, could turn out to be something that the magisterium has to deal with. He also says that the struggle over subtle distinctions is not merely an academic exercise, as is shown by the fact that “all of the most important matters involved in Church doctrines turn on just such subtle distinctions.” I submit that West fails to make some important subtle distinctions and errs by forcing coital interpretations where they don’t belong. The result is pansexualism.

Further on in Heaven’s Song West returns to the teaching of St. Louis about Our Lady in True Devotion, quoting phrases like “untold riches, beauties, rarities and delights” [of Mary’s Garden], “Mary’s virginal bosom,” “nourished with the milk of her grace,” “in the bosom of Mary [we are to] grow mature in enlightenment, in holiness, in experience and in wisdom,” “It is upon [Mary’s] breast that all good things come to me” (79, quoting TD 261, 264, 156, 216).

He then goes on, as he so often does, to admonish those of us who might be uncomfortable with this language. However, it is really not the language of the saint that I have a problem with, but the context and methodology in which it is being presented by West. Our Lady is both physical and spiritual mother; however, in reference to us, “poor banished children of Eve,” She is only a spiritual mother. Yes, of course Her physical maternity points up to Her spiritual maternity, and we can benefit by understanding the metaphors used by St. Louis, but he does not seem to be suggesting that we become fascinated with the Blessed Mother’s body as West asserts he does.

I am inclined to interpret West’s own experience of Maria Lactans, as an understanding that sexual desire finds its ultimate meaning in the union of the divine and human exemplified by the sign of the nursing Child at His Mother’s breast, and that West understands that the metaphorical nursing suggested by St. Louis is not a some kind of virtuous fulfillment of sexual desire. However, in the context of the issues I have raised here, it seems that West is his own worst enemy, because he seems hell-bent on placing coital imagery where it does not belong. And it certainly does not belong with the Ark of the Covenant. Hands off, please.

Don’t Touch that Veil

I just want to conclude by saying once again that I hope with Christopher West that all men, male and female, may through the comprehensive teaching of the Church experience the full effects of the redemption, including the redemption of the body. Like Janet Smith, I applaud West for his efforts at mining John Paul II’s Theology of the Body and pioneering its popular formulation. But at this point we need to be careful to distinguish between what comes from the magisterium and the saints, and what comes from West’s unanchored speculation. No matter how much novelty may sound like good news that does not equate it with the gospel or with the teaching of the Church. We just need to be crystal clear about that.

Pugin Veil1

Schindler was exactly correct when he said that the uneasiness of many individuals with the ethereal excursions of West “is a consequence not only or always of unconscious “Puritanism” on their part, but often simply of their spontaneous and authentic human and Catholic instincts.”

I have to admit, I rolled my eyes a bit as Professor Smith confessed her prudery over the Paschal Candle; and likewise, I was a bit surprised when Professor Healy admitted that he was taken aback when West suggested before an audience that a certain questioner might have some sexual hang ups, and then bent over backwards to defend West’s behavior. It’s like we have fallen under the spell of the prudery police.

Much can be done to avoid the extremes to which men, male and female, are prone to go in matters of sexuality, but the harping about prudery every time someone disagrees with West needs to stop. It is not helpful and, as I believe I have shown above, it simply is not accurate.
There is nothing wrong with leaving the body under the veil and only revealing it to one’s spouse when the two find themselves within the sanctuary of the nuptial garden. For this no one needs to feel guilty or damaged. It is not a matter of prudery, inspired by the Manichean demon. It is a matter of reverence, inspired by the Queen of Virgins.


Father Angelo Mary Geiger, a Franciscan Friar of the Immaculate, blogs at MaryVictrix.com.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Damsels in distress
A guest post by FR. ANGELO MARY GEIGER F.I.

As one interested in helping to bring about a revival of Christian Chivalry, I have thought fondly of the image of the “damsel in distress” as being both iconic and inspiring of the chivalric ideals. I was horrified, then, to see such an honorable term being disparaged by those otherwise promoting the ideals of chivalry. Call me naive or nostalgic (or worse), but I cannot for the life of me see anything wrong with it.

I will admit, if we understand “damsel in distress” as it is caricatured, for example, by the film image of the pretty woman being tied screaming to the train tracks by Dastardly Dan and then being rescued by Agent Jim West, then there is much to be disparaged. The poor helpless thing is abused by one womanizer only to be rescued by another, and all the while is oblivious to everything but the attention she is getting. The ideals of chivalry have always been partially obscured by the cult of “courtly love.” There is nothing new under the sun.

Television and film have that curious ability of turning unalloyed gold into lead, and contrariwise, of cultivating a fondness for the most obvious absurdities. We have learned to despise feminine vulnerability and celebrate the wonders of the Bionic Woman.

So what is the “damsel in distress,” and why should her place in the venerable history of womanhood be preserved and honored? To answer this question we must first examine the contemporary feminist trend to idolize the Amazon.

Ms. Rambo

TV and movies are rife with tough, violent women nowadays. And it’s a scary thing. The movie tough girl look likes a starlet but fights like Rambo.

I am reminded of the Greeks who invented the Amazon myth as a kind of horror story. No men resided in Amazon territory. Once a year the Amazons would travel to a neighboring tribe where they would allow themselves to be impregnated. All the male children were either put to death, sent back to their fathers or left in the wilderness. Nice.

The modern version is not just a horror story; it is feminists' vicarious revenge, although, as usual, women are the losers in this gender horseplay. Misandry just ends in the frustration that women aren’t really men.

Not only are feminists in the mood to caricature men as jerks and buffoons, now they are literally kicking men’s rear ends–but only in Hollywood. No, in reality the Amazon myth is just a myth. The day all-women teams compete on a par with men in the NFL is the day I will believe otherwise. I am well aware that there are individual exceptions to this, but that just proves the rule, doesn’t it?

The Ms. Rambo fantasy is a sub-created world where women have their complete independence and men get payback from way back. I suppose it expresses the modern mood of male guilt over the past, when men and women believed that they were really different from each other. Women get their revenge all right, but at the expense of their femininity.

gunnnnnnnn2

Women have, in fact, achieved a great deal of independence, some of it particularly critical in the light of divorce, abandonment and fatherlessness. Both single and married women have asserted their prowess in the public square and shown themselves formidable competition for men. In particular, many single moms have managed to create functioning families without a father.

But radical feminists have asserted women’s prowess most of all through divorce, abortion and birth control. After all, traditional childbearing has to go if women are to really be free of the dominance of men. Radical feminists have not yet figured out how to create a “woman only” utopia, so until they do, men are not quite as expendable as they would like to think.

In fact, in this charade men still win, don’t they? Now men have sex with women without consequences, and even when the woman keeps the baby, men feel more entitled than ever to opt out. It’s still a man’s world.

The Weaker Sex

Yes, women, like it are not, are the weaker sex, and while to say this is anathema in the public square, in my experience most women do not deny it, or are even inclined to deny it. Many will assume that by saying “weaker sex,” I mean “inferior sex,” which is not at all the case, nor does it even logically follow.

It is a women’s capacity to bear a child more than anything else that makes her the weaker sex. Physique and hormonal instability are secondary when compared to the immense vulnerability of female fertility. Men don’t get pregnant and have no fear of being abandoned by the mother of their child. The potential for motherhood is a woman’s greatest gift, but by its very nature it is something she is not capable of safeguarding by herself. She needs to be protected.

If anything, the ability to bear a child makes a woman superior to men, not inferior, but it certainly does not make her stronger. Alice Von Hildebrand, in her little book, The Privilege of Being a Woman, points out very clearly that the “weakness” of a woman does not mean that she is “less intelligent, less talented, less reliable, less moral, etc.” (35). She says that a woman’s weakness has both its cons and pros. (I paraphrase.) On the con side there is emotional vulnerability, greater sensitivity and openness to being wounded, emotional impressionability and sentimentality and emotional vulnerability to less than sincere men. On the pro side there is the fineness of womanhood in which her fragility and beauty are inherently connected; a woman’s weakness is one of the main motives for the promotion of chivalrous and courteous behavior; it is the fineness and beauty of vulnerability which tends to humanize men and promote the primacy charity (cf. 36-47).

Queen2

Now, I know I will get arguments from women that point to certain facets of human life where women generally manifest themselves as stronger than men—for example, in the ability to suffer and in the ability to persevere in the rigors of parenthood. However, full-fledged feminists would not count these examples as strength; quite the opposite.

All this being said, it is the vulnerability of feminine fertility, more than in any other way, that leaves the feminists ambivalent over the woman’s capacity for motherhood. They know motherhood is a great good, but it is also one that puts them at a very real disadvantage.

Babies as Parasites

According to pro-life feminist Mary Krane Derr, feminists have alternately defended a woman’s distinctive capacity to bear children and then capitulated to the tendency to self-devaluation resulting from the changes that take place in a woman’s body during pregnancy. Most feminists, however, whether defending or attacking motherhood, have advocated for abortion. This ambivalence concerning motherhood, together with the gut reaction support of abortion, quite naturally has manifested itself in the regard of pregnancy as a disease and the fetus as an aggressor or parasite.

Derr quotes from a 1969 play by Myrna Lamb, But What Have You Done for Me Lately? It is another version of the Ms. Rambo myth in which the endgame always finds women still inferior and still the losers. The only consolation here is in sharing the misery:

. . . The drama depicts the reactions of a man in whom a pregnant uterus was forcibly implanted, clarifying for him the anger, desperation, and anguish of a woman when she faces the same dilemma:

“Why should I give this . . . this thing representation?” he cries. “It is nothing to me. I am not responsible for it or where it is nor do I wish to be. I have a life, an important life. I have work, important work . . . and this mushroom which you have visited upon me in your madness has no rights, no life, no importance to anyone, certainly not to the world. It has nothing. It has no existence . . . A tumor. A parasite. This has been foisted upon me? and then I am told that I owe it primary rights to life? My rights are subsidiary! This insanity! I do not want this thing in my body! It does not belong there. I want it removed. Immediately. Safely.”

The pregnant uterus he finds in him was implanted by a woman he once impregnated and abandoned. She remembers what it was like to have that unwanted disease and speaks for all women like her who are deprived of the surgery that would cure the unwanted pregnancy:

“Our work suffered. Our futures hung from a gallows. Guilt and humiliation and ridicule and shame assailed us. Our bodies. Our individual unique familiar bodies, suddenly invaded by strange unwelcome parasites, and we were denied the right to rid our own bodies of these invaders by a society dominated by righteous male chauvinists of both sexes who identified with the little clumps of cells and gave them precedence over the former owners of the host bodies.”

Wouldn’t that be the ultimate revenge, to force men, against their will to bear children? Do these women really hate themselves that much? It seems so.

angry-woman

Derr also points to the same self-devaluating root when considering the cause of anorexia. Studies have shown that the cult of thinness (which now seems even vogue in fashion and has resulted in the death of high profile models) is connected to many women’s discomfort with their own bodies, which they consider inferior, and that drives them to shed their feminine curves and appear more like a man.

No, women are not inferior and pregnancy is not a disease. Women need to rediscover their own dignity in that which is at the same time their vulnerability. Derr concludes her article:

Such a transformed understanding of gestation can give women the confidence to demand proper recognition of pregnancy as a truly indispensable contribution that they, and only they, can make to human life. Indeed, women must make this demand if they wish to achieve full liberation. If feminists are to heal women’s estrangement from their bodies, they must not think of pregnancy as disease, even when it occurs in tremendously unsupportive contexts. When they accept this construction of pregnancy, they only perpetuate the female tendency to lash out at the self rather than challenge societal conditions that deny the worthiness of the self.

The “societal conditions” to which Derr refers are many, but clearly one of those conditions is the devaluating of femininity by men, and the consequent acceptance and assimilation of that devaluation by women themselves. For some feminists, achieving “full liberation” means to reject all gender differences beyond biology as oppressive social constructs. It means gaining the strength not to be dependent on men at all. If this is what full liberation means, it is hard to imagine its achievement apart from birth control, abortion and divorce. The only other avenue, it seems would be lesbianism, a path, which logic based on false premises, has led some feminists to take. As Charlotte Bunch explains in Lesbians in Revolt:

Lesbianism is a threat to the ideological, political, personal, and economic basis of male supremacy. The Lesbian threatens the ideology of male supremacy by destroying the lie about female inferiority, weakness, passivity, and by denying women’s ‘innate’ need for men (even for pro-creation if the science of cloning is developed).

It’s a brave new world.

The Emancipation of Domesticity

It seems that modern feminists are more afraid and jealous of men than they care to admit. The feminist cry for emancipation from men is a misfiring femininity, a woman’s natural grace, an exhortation to men to be fair and humane, turned shrill and ugly. Emancipation has come to mean “free” to become like a man, which is to say, something not at all like a woman.

The absurdity of this strikes me in the gut (pun intended), as when popular culture play acts and allows Ms. Rambo to stand on the top of her heap of conquered and broken boys. As much as I pity the poor deluded girl, I pity the rest of us as well. The Amazon myth has trampled us all.

princess-leia21

Feminists admonish men to give them quarter, but not to respect them. And men don’t. Abortion and birth control have not raised the status of women one iota. Abandonment and fatherlessness are a plague upon family and civil life. No one is better for it, certainly not women, but neither are men nor children. Feminists are manlier and less feminine, and for that reason they are less humane, and therefore, so is everyone else.

Just as men in film and television pretend to be beat up by women, so real-world men comply with the demands of the feminists and meanwhile snicker privately at the foolish girls who have guaranteed a man’s right to be a perpetually irresponsible, puerile, post-pubescent, and juvenile. Ladies, I hope you are happy.

Unfortunately, I think many women are quite happy. Gone are the days when they were regarded as the guardians of chastity and domestic life. One may no longer assume that the bimbo is dumb. The real feminine prowess has been cultivated and refined into a college educated, hyper-sexualized form of manipulation. The women’s clothing section of the local Wal-Mart now looks like some out of the way, sleazy sex shop. It’s the new, smart, emancipated look. The war of the sexes goes on, and everyone is losing.

Women are, in fact, inherently the weaker sex; however, the whole world is at the mercy of this weakness. Unless women once again become the guardians of chastity and domestic life, we are all doomed. The dignity and power of a woman lies in her prerogative to say yes or no. She becomes a queen or a plaything with the well-placed whisper of one little word.

The whole world turns on this power, and it must be defended unto the death. It is both the stuff of adventure and a primordial, domestic thing. But isn’t domestic life the real adventure, the place where every day is perilous and uncertain, where the whole world hangs in the balance? Yes, the power of a woman’s consent is a domestic reality, one pertaining to marriage and procreation before anything else, but it extends to the whole of civilized life. G.K. Chesterton, perhaps the most chivalrous man of the twentieth century, had this to say about the “emancipation of domesticity”:

But when people begin to talk about this domestic duty as not merely difficult but trivial and dreary, I simply give up the question. For I cannot with the utmost energy of imagination conceive what they mean. When domesticity, for instance, is called drudgery, all the difficulty arises from a double meaning in the word. If drudgery only means dreadfully hard work, I admit the woman drudges in the home, as a man might drudge at the Cathedral of Amiens or drudge behind a gun at Trafalgar. But if it means that the hard work is more heavy because it is trifling, colorless and of small import to the soul, then as I say, I give it up; I do not know what the words mean.

To be Queen Elizabeth within a definite area, deciding sales, banquets, labors and holidays; to be Whiteley within a certain area, providing toys, boots, sheets cakes, and books; to be Aristotle within a certain area, teaching morals, manners, theology, and hygiene: I can understand how this might exhaust the mind, but I cannot imagine how it could narrow it. How can it be a large career to tell other people’s children about the Rule of Three, and a small career to tell one’s own children about the universe? How can it be broad to be the same thing to everyone, and narrow to be everything to someone? No; a woman’s function is laborious, but because it is gigantic, not because it is minute. I will pity Mrs. Jones for the hugeness of her task; I will never pity her for its smallness (What’s Wrong with the World).

I can hear the groans. No, I am not saying that a woman’s place is only in the home, but I am saying that it is primarily there. A woman is not accidentally maternal; she is essentially so. Edith Stein, St. Theresa Benedicta of the Cross, put it succinctly: a woman’s vocation is “empathy.”

edithstein

On the face of it, empathy is a weakness. It is openness to experience and participate in what others experience, especially pain. It makes a woman vulnerable.

But without it, we all die.

Damsels in Distress

That brings me more directly to the question of the “damsel in distress.” It is a chivalric image of vulnerability and innocence. Of course, such an image is not complete without the “knight in shining armor,” who conveys the sense of courage and heroism. The image, completed with the damsel in distress being saved by the knight in shining armor, is the picture of courtesy and contains as happy an ending as anyone could hope for. Perhaps the word that best describes it is one coined by Tolkien:  eucatastrophe, meaning the complete reversal of catastrophe, idealized as the triumph of the Cross made available to all of us in the Eucharist.

Historically one of the earliest and most important examples of the image as it entered the West is the legend of St. George and the Dragon. The story is by no means an exclusively Western treasure (I think of Russia and Lebanon, for example), but it is particularly important for an understanding of Western chivalry (especially in England).

As the legend goes, or at least one version of it, a dragon took up its abode at the spring from which the locals drew their water. The dragon thus took custody of the spring and demanded a price for its use. The only way the townsfolk could draw their water was by the offering of someone to the dragon as a human sacrifice. Each day a new victim was selected by common agreement through the drawing of lots. One fateful day, the lot fell to the princess of the kingdom, and even the intervention of her father, the king, was not enough to save her from the dragon; the people insisted that the arrangement be respected. At this point, St. George providentially rode up on his steed and volunteered his services to face the dragon, which he did to great effect, the dragon being slain and the damsel rescued. The awestruck townspeople as a result abandoned the ways of paganism and became Christians.

St_George_and_the_Dragon

Crusaders, it is said, brought the story back from the East and transformed it to fit the times. Christian tradition and hagiography was transformed into quasi-secular romance. Certainly, for courtiers who heard this story, the “art of courtly love,” could easily serve as the hermeneutic for the understanding of the story, in which case, it would not be any different from the story of the rescue of a damsel in the Arthurian cycle. However, the Christian symbolism, even in the most embellished version of the legend, is unmistakable: the Christ figure enters into combat with the Demon and rescues the Virgin Church from his clutches. This is paradise regained. In some versions of the legend, there is even a tree (Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil) to which the maiden is tied and from which she is rescued.

The damsel in distress is the bride of Ephesians 5. This passage of St. Paul on marriage is a holy incantation and exorcism that scatters the feminist demons to their dark and gloomy pits. St. Paul, the “misogynist,” is actually the guardian of feminine weakness and the promoter of chivalry. He admonishes the coward Adam and kneels at the feet of the hero Christ. Both men and women are better for it, if by casting off the modern prejudice they can just for a moment wave away the wafting mist of the Ms. Rambo deception and see the Bridegroom and Bride for who they truly are.

Damsels Not So in Distress

We live in an unreal age, when we have “pregnant men,” surgically enhanced beauty queens and the Hollywood myth of the female soldier. I don’t say this lightly, or in any way to disparage the brave women who serve in our armed forces, but take the example of PFC Jessica Lynch, who was lionized by the Pentagon as the Rambo-like heroine of the Iraq war, but as it turns out, had never fired her weapon. This story is not only symptomatic of Pentagon propaganda, but of the general acceptance of the Ms. Rambo myth. That myth is putting women in harms way in a manner that goes far beyond the ordinary dangers of military life.  Sexual abuse of military women by military men is of “jaw-dropping proportions.

But what about the valiant women of history and literature: Judith, Esther, Jael, St. Joan of Arc, Luthien, Eowyn, ect.? Examine each of their stories and you will find a woman driven by love and a prophetic spirit, not someone preoccupied with the worldly ways of domination and prowess. In each case, more importantly you will find a woman who picks up the sword that a man, derelict of his duty, has dropped and from which he has walked away. In each case you will find a victress who conquers not so much by force of arms, but by her beauty, virtue and charm.

judith

Judith, that type of Our Lady, for example, is the ultimate femme fatale, beautiful and virtuous, who lulls her enemy by her charms and then decapitates him in his lustful sleep. Being the proper lady that she is, she is accompanied to and from her encounter by one of her maids who carries back to the city the head of the enemy in her purse. The men of Judith’s city who were too afraid and desperate to solve the problem themselves are left with no other resource than to sing her praises:

Thou art the glory of Jerusalem, thou art the joy of Israel, thou art the honor of our people: For thou hast done manfully, and thy heart has been strengthened, because thou hast loved chastity, and after thy husband hast not known any other: therefore also the hand of the Lord hath strengthened thee, and therefore thou shalt be blessed for ever (Judith 15:10, 11).

In regard to the dangerous character of virtuous femininity, which character is perfectly harmonious with a woman’s character as damsel in distress, Chesterton said it best:

I have little doubt that when St. George had killed the dragon he was heartily afraid of the princess.

The Valiant Woman

Who shall find a valiant woman? Far, and from the uttermost coasts is the price of her.

St. Bonaventure writes that this verse from the Book of Proverbs (31:10) is prophetic of the Blessed Virgin’s fortitude, especially at the foot of the Cross. The “price of her,” that is, her worth, is the fruit of Her womb, which fruit she bore, offered and possesses. Thus she bore the price in joy at Bethlehem; She paid the price in sorrow on Calvary; and now She possesses the price as Mediatrix in heaven.

Far off and from the last ends is her price; and who is she? This woman, the Blessed Virgin, is the price, through which we prevail to obtain the Kingdom of Heaven; or it is Hers, that is, taken from Her, paid by Her and possessed by Her: taken from Her in the Incarnation of the Word; paid by Her in the redemption of the human race; and possessed by Her in the gaining of the glory of paradise. She brought forth, paid and possessed that price; therefore it is Hers as the one originating, as the one paying and as the one possessing. That woman brought forth that price as one strong and holy; paid it as one strong and pious; possessed it as one strong and vigorous (Conferences on the Seven Gifts of the Holy Spirit, Conference 6).

Dolorosa

Mary is the ideal woman and the iconic Damsel in Distress. St. Bonventure chooses to speak in reference to Her when discussing thd Gift of Fortitude. He makes a distinction between the courage of action, which he attributes properly to man, and that of suffering, which he attributes to the woman: “Men are they that do; women are they that suffer” (pati). The root here of the word suffer is passio (literally, “that which is undergone”), so in the first place it indicates receptivity, an openness to what it is real; secondarily, but most importantly, it is openness to suffering willed out of love. Mary is the Queen of Martyrs and the Sorrowful Mother. She is the Queen of the Seven Swords.

In the friars chapel in Griswold, Connecticut, the rood beam spans the width of the Church and separates the sanctuary from the nave. On it a summary of St. Bonaventure’s doctrine are carved and gilded:

Pretium Redemptionis Nostrae Maria Protulit, Persolvit Possidet,
that is, “Mary bore, offered (paid) and possesses the price of our redemption.”

Taken out of the context of Christian revelation the idea of men acting and women suffering could and has been interpreted to mean: “Men are those who do unto; women are those who are done unto.” But one must recognize that the context for this relationship in the mind of saints like Bonaventure is John 19 and Ephesians 5. The Ms. Rambo myth and the accoutrements that go along with it, like contraception and abortion, are the paraphernalia of a world that has rejected the cross, where mutual manipulation is the rule, where persons are used, not loved.

Historical chivalry from the point of view of Christian ethics was about channeling the courage of action in such a way that it respected the high dignity of the courage of suffering. Women were venerated precisely for the fine delicacy of their beauty, which is exemplary of everything that is worth dying for, namely, the true, good and beautiful.

Unfortunately, the ethical ideal in historical chivalry was all too often just that, an ideal. The courtiers and troubadours too often idealized woman in a pagan sense, that is, they made her a goddess, who was to be served and flattered in the hope that she might shed the dew of her grace upon the poor suitor. So reads one of the rules of courtly love: “Being obedient in all things to the commands of ladies, thou shalt ever strive to ally thyself to the service of Love.”

Sophie

I can never take this kind of thing seriously. Dan Brown tried to resurrect this nonsense in his unbearable Da Vinci Code.  Poor little Sophie, so the backstory goes, misinterpreted the sex-rite in which she had discovered her grandfather engaged and refused to speak to him for the rest of his life. Only after his death, when she is fully enlightened by the much smarter men around her, is she able to realize that what had horrified her in reality it is the most respectable form of goddess worship. And guess what? Sophie also eventually learns that, descending as she does from the bloodline of Christ, she has a special title to the cult of the goddess. The culminating passage where this tripe is fully revealed to Sophie reads like a pious exposition of the most holy mysteries, when in fact it is the diabolic mutterings of the demon of lust. And of course, Sophie takes it all in as the enlightened little sex object she was meant to be.

This is also a reason why I fear what I think has rightly been termed the pansexualism of Christopher West. I do not wish to connect him with the paganism of Dan Brown, but I am always suspicious of pious male veneration of the female body. I am not talking about an ordinary red-blooded attraction. I am talking about the refined, studied and sophisticated trappings of sexual obsession cloaked in euphemisms. Do I think this is what West is engaged in? No, but the penchant for unveiling the mystery in explicit language is dangerous.

Chesterton points to the contrast of worldly and other-worldly regard for femininity in his poem “The Ballad of King Arthur.” The historical information we have regarding Arthur is very slim. All we know are the bits and pieces salvaged by monks from the Dark Ages, mostly about what battles he fought in, especially, the Battle of Mount Badon and concerning the fact that he “carried the image of Mary, Ever-virgin, on his shoulder, through whose virtue and that of Jesus Christ,” he was victorious. Chesterton writes:

King Arthur on Mount Badon
Bore Our Lady on his shield
High on that human altar held
Above the howling field,
High on that living altar heaved
As a giant heaves a tower
She saw all heathenry appalled
And the turning of the hour.

king_arthur_armed2

But the woman that the world remembers, when the story of Arthur is retold and embellished, is not the Queen of Virgin’s but the queen that betrayed the king:

The Queen that wronged King Arthur’s house
Had lovers in all lands
And many a poet praised her pride
At many a queen’s commands:
And the King shrank to a shadow
Watching behind a screen
And the Queen walked with Lancelot
And the world walked with the Queen.

But, as we might expect, Chesterton does not walk with the world or with the Queen “that wronged King Arthur’s house, but with the Queen of the Seven Swords:

Stillness like lightning strike the street
And doubt and deep amaze
And many a courtly bard be dumb
Beside his butt and bays
And many a patron prince turned pale—
If one such flash made plain
The Queen that stands at his right hand
If Arthur comes again.

Guinevere was not so much a damsel in distress, even as she was rescued from the flames by Lancelot, because she was a manipulator just like Lancelot. On the other hand, Our Lady is the true Damsel in Distress and Christ, the true Knight in Shining Armor, because they are one in the mutual freedom of self-giving. Arthur, the “once and future king” will find the honor of his kingdom regained, when the lesson of the Quest of the Holy Grail is learned by the mass of men. Chivalry cannot be a sham and we cannot live without the real thing.

Yes, women need to be protected. They are damsels in distress. The man should stand guard in front of the veil. The courage of action should be put into the service of the courage of suffering. Christ on the Cross did what the first Adam was afraid to do: He protected his Bride. He entered into battle with the dragon and freed the Virgin tied to the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. He was slain in the process, but in the power of His paschal mystery has presented her to himself, a glorious church, not having spot or wrinkle or any such thing; but that it should be holy and without blemish (Ephesians 5: 27).

Hail Victress, standing fast,
The banner is lifted.
Unfurl the sign of salvation,
And storm with Thy Lord
the lair of the Dragon.

Holy Lily of our knighthood,
Draw us to Thy side
To die with Thee,
con-crucified in Him.

The Chivalrous Woman

The idea of damsels in distress implies that women need men. But men also need women. And this is not only a matter of marriage and family, or of matrimonial complementarity. It is also a matter of chivalry. Men need women to be chivalrous.

There is a grain of truth in the chivalrous ideal of the service of women. But it has nothing to do with the mutual manipulation that has continued through the ages, even after the presumed death of chivalry. Even among those who hate chivalry, the mutual manipulation of the sexes is a sacred doctrine. Ms. Rambo is tolerated by her brothers in arms because now she is one of the boys. She can use her sexuality on her own terms, but the game is on. Let us see whether she succeeds. She no longer has any claim to protection.

Mutual manipulation can never end unless men are protective and women want to be protected. Motherhood is worthy of the highest veneration. Vulnerability is the delicacy of a flower. If men do not love this, they are not worthy to be loved.

Women need to hold men to the highest standards. They need to be choosy in regard to the men to whom they say yes. This is the real power of a woman: her fiat. On it the whole of history depends. What John Paul II reminds us, and Christopher West stresses, is that the “freedom of the gift” with respect to man and woman in the mystery of marriage is absolutely inviolable, and that the preservation of that gift belongs to the man (the male) in a special way (TOB 15; 33.1-2). A woman’s yes is sacred and it needs to be protected. But if woman does not value her fiat properly, if she sells it off cheaply, she has no real escape. It is either subjugation in the classical sense or the Ms. Rambo myth.

knight and Lady

Geoffroi de Charny was a fourteenth century French knight and bearer of the Oriflamme, who wrote a well known manual for knights called The Book of Chivalry. In that work he writes of the duty of courtly women to hold their men to the highest standards. For the most part that meant that they were only to give their love to knights who had won worldly honor, and who could safely be named a lover of some man without their own loss of worldly honor:

And if one of the other ladies loves the miserable wretch who, for no good reason, is unwilling to bear arms, she will see him come into that very hall and perceive and understand that no one pays him any attention or shows him honor or notices him, and few know who he is, and those who do think nothing of him, and he remains hidden behind everyone else, for no one brings him forward. Indeed, if there is such a lady, she must feel very uneasy and disconsolate when she sees that she has devoted time and thought to loving and admiring a man who no one admires or honors, and that they never hear a word said of any great deed that he ever achieved. Ah, God! What small comfort and solace is there for those ladies who see their lovers held in such little honor, with no excuse except lack of will! (20.14-25).

The worldly standard of pride was somewhat necessary in the training of men of arms, and still is. The warrior must be ferocious, in some measure, and so the warrior culture encourages bold, decisive behavior that is bent upon domination and victory. That women would hold out for the bravest and most honored men was understandable and promoted the warrior culture. But even so, while this may have also promoted the ideals of courtly love, it did not necessarily safeguard the true dignity of women or the good of marriage and family life.

Too many women sell their fiat too cheaply to knaves who are not worthy of them. Sometimes those knaves are knights in the making, whose honor a woman’s cheap yes does not serve. Men need to be both warriors and true gentlemen. Only women can help them find that balance. Women need to humanize men, without stifling their urge to take risks and to fight. Men need to protect and defend the honor of women.

The Playboy philosophy of Hugh Hefner is not only puerile, but effeminate. The playboy is a prurient Peter Pan, who has never learned how to be a man, perhaps because he has never sufficiently identified with a father figure. His preference is to play indoors where he can’t get hurt and where he will never by deprived of the soft touch of a woman.

There are also the men who are just plainly brutal, how have natural bravado, aggression and a libido to match. A woman’s cheap yes, in this regard, and other men’s silence in the face of it, are the stuff out of which tragedies are made. The damsel in distress has one weapon only: her judicious consent over which she is the sole mistress.

Chesterton was inspired by the nursery rhyme “Pears or Pairs” to write a poem on the subject of true courtly love, which he entitled “An Old Riddle.” I will conclude with it, since it so aptly summarizes the battle of the sexes and the formula for mutual victory. That formula does not provide for the possibility of the damsel in distress being rescued from Dastardly Dan only to be wooed by a more suave womanizer, nor does it provide for the baptism of the Ms. Rambo myth. The real solution is more difficult and more complex, but as with everything else that is worth living for, it is worth dying for:

Seven Knights of the Court of Love
Each has her for a star above
Seven smite in a single name
Seven hearts are hearts of flame
Round where she doth sit
But a maid’s choice is as God’s choice
And who shall challenge it. . .

Seven titans, huge and starred
Seven giants of God’s own guard
These may merit all years’ renown,
Fit for these be the robe and crown,
Heaven’s fields befit
But a maid’s grace is as God’s grace
And who shall merit it.

Bussiere Joan of Arc

Father Angelo Mary Geiger, a Franciscan Friar of the Immaculate, blogs at MaryVictrix.com, where this post originally appeared.

Monday, June 8, 2009

And then God created the olive branch
David Schindler calls time-out in dispute over Christopher West's teachings

A guest post by FR. ANGELO MARY GEIGER F.I.

I have no desire to see [Christopher West’s] project fail. My intention in this and my earlier statement has been to say enough only to identify problematic tendencies, which seem to me serious. My intention, in other words, has been to lift a horizon of objective concerns into relief, for the purpose of inviting reflection by all those involved or interested in West’s project.

These words of Prof. David Schindler, that hit the Web Friday are a perfect expression of the spirit in which his whole response to Profs. Janet Smith and Michael Waldstein was written.  I have the greatest admiration for this man’s cool-headed and courteous manner. Prof. Schindler limited himself to discussing the issues at hand, and I believe he has established the basis for on ongoing dialogue on this subject in such a way that prominent West supporters will not be able to dismiss.  These issues have now been brought irreversibly out in the open and will be discussed for a long time to come.

Prof. Schindler points out that, aside from the way that this debate may affect the future of the theology of the body apostolates in this country, there is a more vital interest:

Defense of our own positions matters only in terms of the always anterior need for accountability to the integrity of truth for its own sake.

Of the most fundamental importance is not the way in which the battle lines have been drawn on the Web, or the way in which this or that person may feel about discussing these issues in the open, but the issue of truth itself. And while Schindler says that a resolution to such a problem is “anterior” to any question of personal consequences, he is not suggesting that the issue of truth can be resolved in summary fashion.

Schindler has thus expressed his unwillingness to engage in discussion by means of a conference, because this would result more in “strategic management” than fruit born of “sustained thinking.” However, he is willing to engage with West in an ongoing and sustained exchange of ideas in the pages of Communio, the scholarly journal he edits. He stresses, and rightly so, that this exchange is going to take time, and that means, in my view, a willingness to take the concerns raised against West’s presentation seriously.

In connection with this I would like to make reference to another defense of Christopher West released also Friday from Prof. Michael J. Healy, who this past week participated in a joint presentation with West on purity and sexuality, sponsored by the Personalist Project.  A summary statement from his comments, I think, underscores the importance of Schindler’s exhortation to take some time on this question:

I think Christopher West has more experience on the front lines of our sexualized culture than most of us; thus, we can respectfully let him follow his own “instincts” (probably not the best “personalist” word here) in these matters.

Schindler seems to think, and I agree, that in the interests of truth what we need to do is precisely to respectfully question West’s “instincts,” especially when, as Schindler points out, the concerns he raised in his first critique of West are abundantly well documented over the many years of West’s programs and presentations.  If we are trying to plumb the depths of John Paul II’s Theology of the Body, “instinct” is certainly not enough.  In any case, Schindler’s latest piece has made this kind of dismissiveness irrelevant.

The reason for the force of Schindler’s argument is that he substantiates at length the validity of his first critique and establishes a standard by which to judge the value of his evidence.  None of Schindler’s critics argued rigorously against his assertions, they simply dismissed them as not meeting a scholarly standard.  But the fact remains that the concerns he raised are credible on the basis what many, many people have heard West say. As Schindler notes,

What one rightly does in such a context is pay attention to the character and number of incidents, to the consistency of what is reported, and to the credibility of those reporting, assessing all of this in terms of its correspondence with one’s own direct knowledge and experience – all sound Aristotelian methodology.

Schindler’s latest contribution to this debate deserves a careful reading.  I will not try to summarize it, but I would like to mention a point of interest in his piece that touches upon one of the main concerns that I have had with West’s presentation, namely, the whole idea of the taming of concupiscence.

First of all, in my previous posts I have never intended to allege that West is suggesting that we will return to original innocence.  (Some of the commenters have suggested I did.)  Generally I have referred to “something akin to original innocence” or the “silencing of concupiscence.”   In fact West rejects the notion of a return to original innocence:

And the more we experience a “real and deep victory” over lust, the more we experience that same sense of wonder and fascination at the human sexual-body that is present in the verses of the Song of Songs—and experience very different from the mere arousal of lust.  It is not possible to return to the state of original innocence, but it is possible for love to win in its battle with lust (Heaven’s Song, p.42).

So we will not return to original innocence; however, a “’real and deep victory’ over lust” will bring about a “holy fascination” with our bodies and our sexuality that is something quite different with lust.  (Cf. West's Heaven’s Song, pp. 37-52 for the idea of “holy fascination.”)  This “real and deep victory” is mentioned by John Paul II in his Theology of the Body:

The accusation of the moral evil that the "desire" born from carnal intemperate concupiscence contains within itself is at the same time a call to overcome this evil.  If victory over evil must consist in detachment from it (hence the severe words in the context of Mt 5:27-28), nevertheless one must only detach oneself from the evil of the act (in the case at hand, the interior act of "concupiscence") and one must never transfer the negativity of this act to its object.  Such a transfer would signify—perhaps not in a fully conscious way—a certain acceptance of the Manichaean "anti-value."  It would not constitute a real and deep victory over the evil of the act, which is evil by its moral essence, and thus and evil of a spiritual nature; on the contrary, there would be concealed in it the great danger of justifying the act to the detriment of the object (the essential error of the Manichaean ethos consists precisely in this) (45.4; italics, the author; bold, mine).

In the context of the Holy Father’s remarks it appears to me that this “real and deep victory” concerns the refusal to consent to lust of thought, recognizing its intrinsic evil, but without the transference of the evil of that act onto its object, namely the body of a woman.  And the danger of not winning that victory, in Manichaean terms, would be to excuse the sin of lust on the basis that one is overcome by the evil of a woman’s body.  At least in this context, there does not seem to me to be a mandate to have a “fascination at the human sexual-body,” just an urging not to allow our rejection of lust to become a rejection of the goodness of the human body. 

In the theology of the body, John Paul II does speak about “reciprocal fascination” of man and woman with each other’s bodies; however, the context is the experience of Adam and Eve in Genesis before the Fall (108.5) and the bridegroom and bride in the Song of Songs (108.6). Applying this to the exigencies of modern man, it would seem particularly appropriate for this mutual fascination to exist between spouses purified by redemptive grace through the Sacrament of Matrimony, as it would also be appropriate to understand the metaphor of human spousal and even bodily love as a means of perceiving the depths of the love of God, but I am not sure that it suggests anything more than that.  In other words, I am not sure that the Holy Father is suggesting that a real and deep victory over lust consists in the ability to be fascinated with the body of the opposite sex without experiencing the movement of concupiscence, or that in general we ought to set its approximation as a goal in order to overcome “suspicion” of the body and sexuality (cf. TOB 46.4; Heaven’s Song, 15).

In his original piece Schindler asserted that "West misconstrues the meaning of concupiscence." Waldstein countered by suggesting that Schindler almost denies that “in the sexual sphere, true growth in virtue is possible.”  In this new article Schindler answers Waldstein’s charge by affirming the possibility of “growth in virtue in the sexual sphere,” but emphasizing the need to qualify what exactly that means.  Schindler indicates three areas where he has a concern over West’s interpretation of concupiscence and its taming:

1) West emphasizes the goodness of the body and stresses that lust resides in the heart. He does not deny that concupiscence continues to exist within the body, but by putting the emphasis on purity of heart Schindler wonders whether West “gives sufficient weight to the continued objective presence in the body of the fomes peccati (the tendency to sin).”

2) Perhaps West is not giving “sufficient weight to the necessary mediating role of natural-human virtue,” “in treating the will immediately in relation to the transforming power of grace and the Gospel.”

3) Perhaps West does not go far enough in distinguishing between “decent” and “indecent” looks, when there is a need for a reverence “deriving from the mystery contained in the body whose unveiling requires a sensitivity to time and to place which is not simply a function of sin and hence shame.”

No one in this debate denies the transforming power of God’s grace to heal us in the sexual sphere and to make real spontaneous virtue in matters of sexuality a reality.  The question for me is whether all this verbal unveiling and propensity toward sexual fascination is the way to do it.  It’s in this sense, that I have never been comfortable with all the apologetical marketing hype concerning TOB.

Schindler states that he decided reluctantly to involve himself in this debate, not because of the Nightline interview, but because

the great numbers of people who have experienced some uneasiness in their encounters with West’s work . . . need to know that this uneasiness has an objective foundation in the work of West itself: it is a consequence not only or always of unconscious “Puritanism” on their part, but often simply of their spontaneous and authentic human and Catholic instincts.

According to Michael Healy, during his joint presentation with West the other day, a questioner asked: “whether explicit descriptions of private acts ought to be used in public and that he himself found this offensive.  Did that make him a prude?”  In reply West asked the man “to consider why he felt the way he did and to consider whether he wasn’t being oversensitive to the matter rather than just properly sensitive.  Did he have some problem with accepting his sexuality?” (Another witness mentions the exchange here.)  Healy “did not see this as illegitimate pressure on the questioner but as a reasonable consideration”; nevertheless, he emphasized that West is “clearly a very humble man, always ready and eager to learn and improve.”

It is interesting to note, however, that this event comes right on the heels of this very public controversy that questions precisely this type of presentation and pressure.  In fact, as already noted, the uneasiness of many people with this kind of presentation is the primary basis for Schindler’s intervention.

Much more needs to be said about this unrelenting penchant for unveiling the mystery and then suggesting that anyone who does not consider this sufficiently reverent has a problem with their sexuality.  At some point, I would like to write something on West’s approach to his regard for the body of the Blessed Mother, and his insinuations that anyone who is uncomfortable with examining the body of their mother has some kind of unresolved sexual conflict within themselves (cf., e.g., Heaven’s Song, pp. 76-81).

For his part, Schindler writes:

My own view is that the habit of communication of the dominant culture, which knows no discreet activities that ought not to be fully exposed, and no mysteries that ought not to be fully unveiled, is precisely what needs to be called into question, by both the form and the content of an authentically Christian-human response. To be sure, this does not mean that things which ought not to be talked about publicly should not be addressed in private — for example, if a personal question needs to be clarified or if counseling is warranted.

I will be the last person to deny that prudery is a problem.  I have seen very often an excessive reliance on secondary rules for modesty entertainment and general behavior that is narrowing and sometimes sectarian.  It is a real problem in certain circles.  However, in matters of sexuality I don’t believe that more is necessarily better:  more talk, more fascination, more flesh unveiled.  What is needed is good judgment: naming the darkness of lust, without projecting it onto the body, but at the same time realizing that some mysteries need to remain veiled and should only be unveiled within the sanctuary of holy matrimony.

Which brings me back to a consideration which I have mentioned before:  apologetics is not enough.  Yes, there are thousands of people, who have had their innocence destroyed at a young age, who have been saturated with our pornographic culture, who have been wounded by Puritanism or addicted the satiation of their lusts. 

The veil is off.  “We have seen everything,” so, we are told, “and we had just better make the best of it.  In fact, with this new way (TOB) we can actually transform our pornographic fascination into a holy one.”

I disagree.  At some point we need to move beyond apologetics and put the veil of mystery back onto to marriage and sexuality, and especially the Blessed Mother, for heaven’s sakes.  This re-veiling is a real problem, I admit, but it is also one of the real challenges of our age.  I would hope that this debate will help Christopher West put his very real and extraordinary gifts to the accomplishment of this task.


Father Angelo Mary Geiger, a Franciscan Friar of the Immaculate, blogs at maryvictrix.com.