Rather confusing, is it not?

The link in the title is to Signs on the Way, a bible study booklet from the Lambeth Conference centred on the gospel of John (my favourite.) I had the oddest thought when I was reading the reflection on the miracle at Cana. Indeed, wondering about (for example) the disciples' reaction to the miracle can make for a fine (and highly speculative...but that can be fun...) discussion. Yet I must not be in good form. My immediate thought was that those crashing the wedding party to see the Master may well have been the reason the hosts ran out of wine in the first place.

I suppose I'm a bit weary after the exams (though they were completed in May), and still have little quickness left. Yet other odd thoughts (well, odd for me) are entering my mind on matters religious.

This past week, I attended a lecture related to Thomas Aquinas and love of God and neighbour. In case this was not obvious, Thomas and I are old friends - eight years of my education were provided by Dominicans, and my post-graduate theology and philosophy meant another 8 years with Jesuits. The presentation was in a parish setting, and I dare say that many there had little previous experience with things Thomistic. I realised (as if this were news... but I'm so used to Thomas that it does not always appear vividly) how totally confusing his points must seem to those unaware of the overall thought.

One man in attendance, responding to the idea of God loves us - etc., etc. - we love through God - suddenly asked "what about excommunication?" Well, with Thomas's stress on a definition of love as willing the best for the other, it seemed to me that, since excommunication is designed to call notorious sinners to repentance (...not that it necessarily is that way in practise... I know enough history to be aware of how bishops often delighted in excommunicating one another..), it could make fine sense that excommunication fits the definition of love. In fact, it also could remind the one excommunicated that actions have consequences - and that there are deep spiritual consequences to some actions even when one has avoided extreme natural ones.

Actually, Thomas' definition of love is one which makes 'love of neighbour,' as applied to everyone, very clear. Most of us (whether we are saying t'amo or ti voglio bene - in Italian, the first relates to love with a romantic element, the latter to love - filial, for friends, etc. - without the same... notice how the literal meaning is so close to Thomas' usage) refer to people whose company we enjoy, whom we cherish, and so forth. I would not have cared to have Jack the Ripper for a pub companion, nor would I have warm fuzzy feelings towards him, but I could still 'love' him by wishing the best for him - the best being his repentance and salvation.

It then occurred to me that (other than the lecturer, who probably has the entire Summa memorised and even understands it), I probably was the only one there who would think in this fashion. And I'd be the first to admit that I don't understand a quarter of what I've read of the Summa. It's brilliant, indeed. The philosophical arguments, if one favours Aristotle, are perfect. Maybe the confusion can stem from that they are a bit too perfect. In a particular scheme, they seem to set many mysteries out neatly (and make it plain that Christianity was not philosophically beneath what the 13th century Arabs or Greeks had to chew on.)

Another part of the lecture briefly dealt with God's loving Himself in his creation. I've heard that one at length in the past, and, in context, it can glorify our deification through Christ and our share in the love of the Trinity. The problem is that, if one has no familiarity with the entire picture, God's loving himself in 'me,' and, on the slim chance that 'I' become holy, loves me all the more because I'm becoming more like him and he loves himself so much (in fact, I gather he only loves himself... which is fine because all of creation stems from him and has the stuff of holiness in it...), those who spend more time on the blasted self help aisle than in the theological library can be left with a vague image of a God who is the Supreme Narcissist.

By sheer coincidence, later on the same day I walked past an area where some Buddhists were having some sort of festival. I am not all that knowledgeable about Buddhism, though I did study some Buddhist and Hindu writings as part of my philosophical studies. I had yet another odd thought. Since scholasticism was the RC approach in the 20th century, I wonder what it was like for the missionaries in China or India - and this without considering political problems? How did one use a catechism based on scholasticism and Aristotle with those whose previous exposure would have been to varieties of Buddhist or Hindu thought, to which they bear no resemblance?

Would you believe that, at this very moment, it still is unthinkable to me that, in all likelihood, 99% of worshippers anywhere are not likely to be thinking about any of this at all? ;)