As an acorn is targeted upon becoming an oak, so in other cases, for a being with a nature to seek its particular good is to aim at what perfects, fulfills, or completes it -- what it is made for, what it is ordered to, what fully actualizes its potentiality.  Not even an addict who craves heroin seeks destruction as such; he seeks some lesser good that he mistakes for his greatest good but that really destroys it.

So often, when people say they are seeking fulfillment, what they mean is merely “I am trying to get what I desire.”  They assume that this will be fulfilling, even when what they desire is destructive of their nature.  Our natural inclinations are not what we happen to crave, but what we are made to pursue, what the unfolding of our inbuilt potentialities requires.

When all goes well, our natural inclinations and our cravings correspond, yet the match can certainly fail.  Those who suffer physical or psychological disorders may subjectively long for things that are bad for them; so may the immature; so may those who are habituated to vice.  Just as a ball may roll up instead of down an inclined plane if some other force is acting on it, so a person may not desire what he is naturally inclined to desire -- but this in no way shows that he is not naturally inclined to desire it.

Tomorrow:  How You Are Different from a Cow

The original “Is and Ought" post

Not only is it possible to make inferences from is to ought, that is, from descriptive premises to evaluative conclusions -- but it is also possible to make inferences from ought to is.

An example of an inference from is to ought:

Pregnancy is not a disturbance of natural function, but is itself a natural function.  Hence it is wrong to view it as view it as a disease which can be "treated" by abortion.

An example of an inference from ought to is:

Lying is wrong.  This precept discloses to us that the social practice of conversation is ordered to the mutual discovery of truth -- to a cooperative endeavor to bring thought into alignment with how things really are.

Tomorrow:  Of Acorns and Men

When I show my students the following passage, some of them are unable to take it in.  They think the author must merely mean that pregnancy increases the risk of certain illnesses.  No, that is not what he is saying.  Read it again carefully.  I’ve added boldface for emphasis.

The foregoing discussion should allow us to abandon the erroneous assumption that pregnancy is per se a normal and desirable state, and to consider instead a more accurate view that human pregnancy is an episodic, moderately extended chronic condition with a definable morbidity and mortality risk to which females are uniquely though not uniformly susceptible and which:

-- is almost entirely preventable through the use of effective contraception, and entirely so through abstinence;

-- when not prevented, is the individual result of a set of species specific bio-social adaptations with a changing significance for species survival;

-- may be defined as an illness requiring medical supervision through (a) cultural traditions, functional or explicit, (b) circumstantial self-definition of illness or (c) individual illness behavior;

-- may be treated by evacuation of the uterine contents;

-- may be tolerated, sought, and/or valued for the purpose of reproduction; and

-- has an excellent prognosis for complete, spontaneous recovery if managed under careful medical supervision.  [He means the woman gives birth to the child.]

Accordingly, the open recognition and legitimation of pregnancy as an illness would be consistent with the individual self-interest of those experiencing pregnancy, good standards of medical practice, and the continued survival of human and other species.

This is the entire conclusion of an article by abortionist Warren M. Hern, M.D., "Is Pregnancy Really Normal?"  But his opinion is not really unusual; he merely states it more bluntly than most people who think his way do.

Tomorrow:  Is and Ought Again

Mondays are for student letters.  This student writes from the University of Chicago.

Question:

I am emailing regarding what I consider to be a rather disturbing practice -- mortification of the flesh.  I was wondering what you thought of it and what the Catholic Church teaches about it.  I find it abhorrent, or at least, I find what I know of it to be abhorrent.  It seems to be a direct attack on the body as a gift from God, and against the created order as a whole.

Reply:

The term “mortification of the flesh” refers to ascetical practices in general.  The body and the rest of the created order are good, but they are also in disorder.  So the idea of mortification isn’t to despise the body, but to make the body an obedient servant instead of being ruled by it.  

One form of mortification is giving something up – for example, fasting on Fridays or abstaining from meat in order to battle one’s propensity to intemperance.   A sterner form of mortification is bodily penance, which means voluntarily submitting to something uncomfortable or even painful.  This is the one that bothers you, as I know from the original, longer form of your letter.

It’s odd that we admire athletes and Navy SEALS for practicing uncomfortable disciplines for earthly purposes, but consider them morbid when Christians practice them for spiritual purposes.  But aren’t we to be athletes and warriors of the Spirit?

Even so, the Church doesn’t teach that one has to practice these particular forms of mortification; it teaches that one is allowed to, but with warnings, to make sure the practice is not abused.  To give something up or submit to discomfort is allowable; to damage or injure the body is a heresy.  Since such practices can be abused, why would the Church allow them at all?  Simply because through the ages, many people have found them helpful – and these many include many Protestants.

True, among Protestants they are presently out of favor.  One reason may be that Protestants tend to be minimalists.  If a particular practice can be abused, or a particular doctrine can be misunderstood, then Protestants prefer to do without it.  For example, some Protestant denominations reason that because wine can be used to excess, it is better not to use it at all, even in Holy Communion.

Catholics, by contrast, incline toward maximalism.  Why miss out on anything good?  If a practice can be helpful when not abused, the Church tends to allow it but forbid the abuse.  If a doctrine is true but can be distorted, the Church teaches it but warns against the distortion.  We fast so that we can trust ourselves to feast.

Perhaps a thought experiment might help.  Imagine a young man who desires a deeper appreciation of the Passion.  As he meditates on the Crowning with Thorns, for several minutes he lightly presses his fingernails into his forehead.  As soon as he stops, the discomfort ends, and the marks of his fingernails fade away.  He prays in wonder, “O, Christ, if even these few minutes of slight discomfort have been difficult for me, what must You have suffered for my sake!  Conform me to Yourself.  Allow me to identify more completely with what You have done for me on the Cross, and keep me from being a slave to all my comforts.”

Has the young man done wrong?  I can’t see how.  Might what he has done have been spiritually helpful to him?  It seems that it was.  Should he be careful?  Of course he should.  Has he been careful?  Obviously.

Tomorrow:  Is and Ought Again

“It is idle to talk always of the alternative of reason and faith.  Reason is itself a matter of faith.  It is an act of faith to assert that our thoughts have any relation to reality at all.”

-- G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy

Tomorrow:  Mortification of the Flesh