Archive for the ‘Charity’ Category
Richard of St. Victor — Philo Redivivus
RICHARD OF ST. VICTOR‘s (1110−1173) psychological-allegorical interpretations are exceptional — arguably as good as those of Philo of Alexandria. The two best known examples are his works Benjamin Minor and Benjamin Major. The first interprets the 12 sons of Jacob allegorically, each son symbolizing a particular virtue — leading up to the youngest sons, Benjamin and Joseph, who symbolize contemplation and discretion, respectively. Benjamin Major builds on this in a long discussion of contemplation. Here the framework is a detailed interpretation of the details of the Ark of the Covenant. In both these works Richard uses allegorical interpretation to great effect. One never feels he is forcing interpretations or imposing foreign meanings. Rather — as with Philo — one has the sense that he has, in an inspired way, tapped genuine, deeper spiritual meanings of Scripture.
Benjamin Minor and Benjamin Major are not the only works where Richard displays his remarkable skill in allegoresis. Another example is the little known work, De exterminatione male et promotione boni (On the Extermination of Bad and the Promotion of Good).* In a broad sense, the theme it treats is the advancement of the soul through the three ascetical-mystical stages of purification, illumination and unification. For this, he refers to the two water crossings of the Israelites: first the crossing of the Red Sea as they enter the wilderness, and second, their crossing of the Jordan into the Promised Land after 40 years of wandering.
* Draft English translation is here. Latin version is here.
Like Philo, Richard sees Egypt as bondage to the flesh. Hence the first crossing symbolizes the soul that attains contempt of the world. In turning from the world, the soul turns inward. Over time, as it comes to know itself, it realizes its own innate proneness to folly, pride and sin — the root cause of which is love of self. Symbolically, crossing the Jordan into the Promised Land occurs when the soul reverses the course of its affective energies (just as, in Joshua 3, the Jordan reverses course, enabling the Israelites to cross) from cupidity to charity.
The actual crossing, for Richard, symbolizes contemplation. The twelve stones that Joshua gathers after the crossing and uses to build a memorial, symbolize twelve supporting virtues. The spies that Joshua first sends into the Promised Land represent ‘pre-meditation’ upon the things that contemplation actually experiences. Here Richard shows his practical insight into the contemplative life. To reach high degrees of contemplation — e.g., the intoxication of divine ecstasy — we must yearn for them. And to stimulate the affections to this yearning, first we must begin by meditating on and considering divine things.
In Joshua 3, first the priests carry the Ark of the Covenant across the Jordan. Then the Jews follow at a distance of 2000 cubits. As Richard discussed in Benjamin Major, the Ark of the Covenant is a symbol for contemplation. The Jews that follow symbolize our other dispositions — including those that connect us with the material world. These reach the Promised Land in a transformed condition, once the soul’s affections have been properly reoriented to charity through virtue, meditation and contemplation. So Richard sees in all this not a dour, world-denying asceticism, but an integral psychology, in which our entire self — body, mind, soul and spirit — is transformed and renewed.
Also like Philo, Richard has remarkable attention to detail; no word in Scripture is seen as superfluous. And also like Philo, his allegorical interpretations avoid excess by staying focused on a single psychological theme. This is unlike St. Augustine and Origen, who often shift levels of interpretation — say, from psychological, to typological (i.e., interpretation based on the premise that figures and events in the Old Testament prefigure those of the New Testament), to ecclesial (seeing the Old Testament as symbolizing the Church and its sacraments).
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Bibliography
Richard of St. Victor, De exterminatione mali et promotione boni (On the Extermination of Bad the Promotion of Good), J. P. Migne, Patrologia Latina vol. 196 1073C−1116C. Paris, 1855. [Latin text]
Zinn, Grover A. (tr.). Richard of St. Victor: The Twelve Patriarchs (Benjamin Minor), The Mystical Ark (Benjamin Major) and Book Three of The Trinity. Paulist Press, 1979.
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The Other Kind of Cupidity
CUPIDITY (in Latin, cupiditas) is a word rarely used, and when misunderstood. Cupidity, along with its near cognate, concupiscence, is nowadays often understood to mean either undue interest in sensual pleasure (especially sexual) or avarice. Hence cupiditas is often translated as lust or covetousness. But this isn’t how it was understood by St. Augustine — in whose ethics and theology cupiditas plays a central role.
Ultimately, according to Augustine, one loves either the world or loves God. Love of God (and others for God’s sake) is the essence of caritas or charity. Love of the world is cupidity. Each of these loves becomes a seed around which an entire set of personality characteristics and mental patterns develop. Hence we tend to have within our psyche two competing personalities: one based on caritas, and one on cupiditas.
This is much the same as — if not identical to — St. Paul’s repeated emphasis on the struggle between carnal mindedness and spiritual mindedness (e.g., Romans 8). Again, carnal mindedness we tend to associate with attraction to pleasures of the body, but it’s actually something much broader. It could as easily be called worldly-mindedness.
Cupidity encompasses the love of anything worldly. It isn’t just sexual lust, gluttony, avarice and the like. There is another form which we tend to overlook, but which is much worse. That is our craving for things like acceptance and approval of others, social status, prestige, etc.
This is clearly linked to biological instincts we have as social animals. Social and herd animals depend on the acceptance of others for survival. These are very deep-seated instincts, which we, inasmuch as we are social mammals, have. But, unlike other animals, we are also spiritual beings. It’s imperative that we subordinate our biological instincts to our higher, spiritual nature.
To overcome sexual lust, avarice, and undue interest in food and drink are comparatively easy things. Much more difficult is to overcome this basic desire for approval by others, social status, and prestige.
I myself am constantly aware when I write of having not only a sincere desire to help people (caritas), but to gain social approval by writing something noteworthy. I crave acceptance, respect, honor. I have a wordly desire to be recognized by others as contributing something significant, or of being ‘learned.’ That is this second form of cupidity at work.
This cupidity is even more insidious because it tends not to be thought of as a moral failing. Indeed, in our competitive society, it may even masquerade as a kind of virtue.
But it is not a virtue. It opposes our love of God, and anything that distracts us from love of God we must strive with all our might to eliminate.
This is explained very well by St. Augustine:
(1) Charity [Charitatem] denotes that whereby one loves [the eternal]. …
However, the poison of charity is the hope of getting and holding onto temporal things. The nourishment of charity is the lessening of cupidity [cupiditatis], the perfection of charity, the absence of cupidity. …
(3) But when the enticements of bodily pleasures [carnalium voluptatum] have been overcome, it is to be feared lest the cupidity for pleasing men, by way of either some wonderful deeds or an arduous self-control or patience or some act of generosity or through a reputation for knowledge or eloquence, creep in and take their place. Here is also to be found the cupidity for honor [cupiditas honoris]. Against this should be cited all those things that have been written in praise of charity and on the foolishness of boasting [inanitate iactantiae]. … If you wish to please men, however, so as to help them to love God, you have desire not for pleasing others or honor, but for something else.
(Source: St. Augustine of Hippo, On Diverse Questions 36, On nurturing charity; my translation, based on those of Mosher and Ramsey.)
Modern translators fail to capture the full scope of cupiditas by using such words as ‘lust’ and ‘greed’. ‘Cupidity’ seems a better choice. The expression “to have your liking in the world” captures its essence.
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Bibliography
Mosher, David L. (tr.). Saint Augustine: Eighty-three Different Questions. Fathers of the Church, Vol. 70. CUA Press, 1982 (repr. 2010); pp. 67−71.
Ramsey, Boniface (tr.). Saint Augustine (Bishop of Hippo): Miscellany of Eighty-three Questions. New City Press, 2008.
Latin text
De Diversis Quaestionibus 36 (Quaestio XXXVI. De nutrienda charitate). J. P. Migne, Patrologia Latina 40 cols. 11−100.
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Theodore Parker on Immortal Life
AS I’ve said before, I rely on Providence and grace choose my reading, and I’m seldom, if ever, disappointed. The limiting factor is not grace, but my prayer. I must force myself in dry spells to clear my desk, calm my mind, and pray, “Lord, here I am. What wouldst thou have me do?” Yesterday the answer came as the suggestion in a devotional reading that, to keep faith’s fires burning bright, one might to read sermons. As I’ve recently been working on American Transcendentalism, this brought to mind the sermons of Theodore Parker. Searching the topic quickly brought up a collection at gutenberg.org (providential, since this format is best for my purposes). A quick look at the Contents revealed his sermon on Immortality, a regular topic here.
The sermon impressed me, and I’d very much encourage anyone with an interest in spirituality to read it. It’s virtues are several, including: (1) its usefulness at the level of practical personal religion; (2) as an example of a very well-crafted sermon (this must rank among Parker’s best writings); and (3) for what it tells us about American Transcendentalism — its origins, message and relevance today.
Since my goal is to encourage others to read the sermon, I intentionally give only a very short summary such as may help to understand and appreciate its message.
Parker’s main subject concerns evidences of immortality of the human soul, and the possibility of a heavenly existence hereafter. The purpose is not to rationally convince an agnostic of these things. On the contrary, he argues that logic cannot impart conviction in these matters.
Moreover, he sees a direct connection between an intuitive awareness of the soul’s immortality and of our own nature as spiritual beings. Eventually he connects the latter with developing a greater sense of social charity. This last part fits with Parker’s status as a seminal influence on the New England social reform and abolitionist movements. But he is also a student of William Ellery Channing: social justice is not something apart from, but integrally connected with, our sense as spiritual beings seeking to progress in ‘likeness to God.’
Early on Parker emphasizes that human beings are aware of their immortal souls as a “fact of consciousness.” We have, he argues, spiritual senses. Just as we need no rational argument to convince us we possess physical vision — we need merely open our eyes and see — the same is true with spiritual vision. If we pay sufficient attention, we simply ‘see’ that we already believe in our soul’s immorality. In fact, we are incapable of doubting it. Here Parker is showing influences of Kant and Coleridge (both important sources for New England Transcendentalism.)
But then why invoke rational arguments for immortality at all? If these do not produce our own belief in immortality, they will neither persuade the atheist. Parker responds that rational arguments here play an indirect, supportive role. They prepare the mind to receive or recognize its innate knowledge. That is, reasoning (ratiocination, discursive reasoning) activates or improves the faculty of Reason (intuitive noetic apprehension of truths).
This seems very close to what I’ve said elsewhere about the purpose of Plato’s rational arguments for the soul’s immortality.
Parker’s actual arguments for immortality are traditional. Their precedents can be easily found in Plato and Cicero, but they have been so thoroughly assimilated into Western literature that it would be pointless to try to identify his proximal sources.
He helpfully divides his arguments into three broad categories: (1) from the general belief of humankind; (2) from the nature of Man; and (3) from the nature of God.
From the General Consensus
Parker notes that the belief in immortality exists in virtually all cultures throughout history. He also argues that it is innate, and universal amongst individuals. Moreover, it is most emphasized by our greatest philosophers and religious teachers. Insofar at these geniuses are also the most ‘representative men’ (a principle Emerson alludes to often, e.g., in his essay ‘The Poet‘), this is added evidence of the universality of the belief.
From the Nature of Man
Here is a constellation of arguments that are again traditional. Human beings have unlimited intellectual, aesthetic, moral and spiritual potentials. In biological nature, all things are designed to reach a point of maximum maturity: an acorn becomes a fully grown oak tree. Nature seems designed to promote the achievement of an organism’s telos. How, then, could it be that no provision would be made for human beings to achieve their highest potentials? For this Eternity and immortality are needed.
Again, we have an innate sense of moral justice. This world is anything but consistently morally just. How could the wrongs of the present world ever be set right? What compensation could be made to the unfairly oppressed? For those cheated out of their moral birthright by being born into perpetual poverty or even slavery? The human soul objects to this. Our innate moral sense insists that (1) there is a God, (2) God is all Good, Powerful, Wise and Just; but (3) a Good, Powerful, Wise and Just God would now allow people to unfairly suffer in this world without some compensation in the next.
We must note carefully how Parker invokes this argument. He is not making demands on God. Rather, he is appealing to our sense of what we deeply and instinctively believe.
From the Nature of God
The preceding lead to more arguments. Why would an all Good, Powerful and Loving God not make the human soul immortal? And why would God design human beings with these beliefs (in immortality, perfect Justice, etc.) if they did not correspond to the true nature of the Universe? God does not lie, nor would he build the human soul on a foundation of false beliefs.
The above suffices to convey a general idea of Parker’s arguments. There is not much terribly new here, but he does organize the material ably and effectively.
In the process, he introduces certain characteristically Transcendentalist themes. One is his emphasis on the role of “innate facts of consciousness.” Transcendentalists rejected authority and doctrine as the primary basis for religion, in favor of direct personal experience.
Also, like the Unitarians (Parker’s direct heritage via William Ellery Channing) and Universalists, Parker insists that all human souls will eventually be saved. Here and elsewhere he flatly and vehemently rejects the Calvinist doctrines of ‘innate depravity,’ predestination, and eternal damnation of the wicked.
This liberating step widens ones perspective on social charity. We can no longer blame the poor, the oppressed, or even the criminal for their actions, nor stand by as mere passive witnesses of their suffering. Immortality is their destiny and right as well as ours. Hence in the end — and to me this is the most original part of the sermon — Parker leverages all this discussion into an exhortation to be actively concerned with helping the oppressed.
But, — and this is vitally important — social charity flows from and must be integrally connected with spirituality. We must remain conscious that our motivation is to advance others spiritually. Material progress is mostly a means to that end. Hence — as is sadly too often the case today — when an over-dominating concern for increasing the material circumstances of the poor reaches the extent that it obscures or even works contrary to our concern for their spiritual welfare, there is a problem.
A growing sense of our sense of immortality is integral to all this. We begin our immortal life in this one as we grown in holiness and virtue; and social virtue is integral to this.
I am struck with how similar this is to the integralism of Augustinian ethics — as, say, reflected so strongly in the writings of the Victorines. There is a very strong element of anti-Catholicism in Transcendentalist writings. Doubtless they inherited this prejudice from their English Puritan and Protestant ancestors. It seems to have never occurred to them to give St. Augustine a charitable re-reading. Several Transcentalists, in fact, converted to Roman Catholicism (Orestes Brownson and Rose Hawthorne, for example).
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Reference
Parker, Theodore. A Sermon of Immortal Life (1846). In: Theodore Parker, Speeches, Addresses, and Occasional Sermons in Three Volumes, Vol. 2, Boston: 1855 (repr. 1867); pp. 105−138.
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The Great Prayer of St. Augustine
BETWEEN the time of his conversion and his baptism, St. Augustine retired with his family and friends to a villa in Casciago in the beautiful lake region north of Milan. There he wrote several dialogues in the manner of Cicero, including the Soliloquies. Years later Augustine described his conversion in the Confessions, but here we have, as it were, a direct window into his mind at this important period of his life. The Soliloquies opens with an inspired and impassioned prayer — full of phrases from the Neoplatonist Plotinus and the Bible.
While I was turning over in my mind many and divers matters, searching ceaselessly and intently through many a day for my very own self and my good, and what evil should be avoided, all at once a voice spoke to me— whether it was myself or another inside or outside of me I do not know, for that is the very thing I am endeavoring to find out. Reason thereupon spoke to me as follows:
Reason. Now then, suppose you had discovered something, to what would you consign it, in order that you might proceed to other matters?
Augustine. To memory, of course.
R. Is memory of such virtue that it well preserves all that has been thought out?
A. That is difficult; in fact, it is impossible.
R. It must be written down, then. But, what are you going to do now that your poor health shirks the task of writing? These matters ought not to be dictated, for they demand real solitude.
A. You speak the truth. Wherefore, I really do not know what I am to do.
2.
O God, the Founder of the Universe, grant me first of all that I may fittingly supplicate Thee; next, that I may so act that I may be worthy of a hearing from Thee; finally, I beg Thee to set me free.
O God, through whom all those things, which of themselves would not exist, strive to be.
O God, who dost not permit to perish even that which is self-destructive.
O God, who from nothing hast created this world which every eye sees to be most beautiful.
O God, who dost not cause evil, and who dost cause that it become not most evil.
O God, who, to those few who have their refuge in that which truly is, dost show that evil is nothing.
O God, through whom the universe, even with its sinister side, is perfect.
O God, by whose ordinance the uttermost discord is as naught, since the less perfect things are in harmony with the more perfect.’
O God, whom everything loves which is capable of loving whether knowingly or unknowingly.
O God, in whom are all things—and yet the shamefulness of every creature does not shame Thee, their wickedness does not harm Thee, nor docs their error deceive Thee.
O God, who hast not willed that any save the pure should know the True.
O God, the Father of Truth, the Father of Wisdom, Father of True and Supreme Life, Father of Happiness, Father of the Good and the Beautiful, Father of Intelligible Light, Father of our watching and our enlightenment, Father of the covenant by which we are admonished to return to Thee.
3.
I call upon Thee, O God the Truth, in whom and by whom and through whom all those things are true which are true.
O God, Wisdom, in whom and by whom and through whom all those are wise who are wise.
O God, True and Supreme Life, in whom and by whom and through whom all those things live which truly and perfectly live.
O God, Happiness, in whom and by whom and through whom all those things are happy which are happy.
O God, the Good and the Beautiful, in whom and by whom and through whom all those things are good and beautiful which are good and beautiful.
O God, Intelligible Light, in whom and by whom and through whom all those things which have intelligible light have their intelligible light.
O God, whose domain is the whole world unknown to sense.
O God, from whose realm law is promulgated even in these regions.
O God, from whom to turn away is to fall, to whom to turn is to rise again, in whom to abide is to stand firm.
O God, from whom to depart is to die, to whom to return is to be revived, in whom to dwell is to live.
O God, whom no one loses unless deceived, whom no one seeks unless admonished, whom no one finds unless he is purified.
O God, whom to abandon is to perish, whom to heed is to love, whom to see is to possess.
O God, to whom Faith moves us, Hope raises us, Charity unites us.
O God, through whom we overcome the enemy, Thee do I pray.
O God, through whom we obtain that we do not altogether perish.
O God, by whom we are admonished to be ever watchful.
O God, through whom we discern the good from the evil.
O God, through whom we flee evil and follow after good.
O God, through whom we are not overcome by afflictions.
O God, through whom we fittingly serve and fittingly rule.
O God, through whom we learn that that is alien to us which once we thought was meet for us, and that is meet which we used to think was alien.
O God, through whom we cling not to the charms and lures of evil.
O God, through whom deprivations do not abase us.
O God, through whom what is better in us is not under the dominion of our lower self.
O God, through whom death is swallowed up in victory.
O God, who dost convert us, stripping us of that which is not and clothing us with that which Is.
O God, who makest us worthy to be heard.
O God, who strengthenest us; who leadest us into all truth.
O God, who speakest to us of all good things; who dost not drive us out of our mind, nor permittest that anyone else do so.
O God, who callest us back to the way; who leadest us to the gate; who grantest that it is opened to those who knock.
O God, who givest us the bread of life.
O God, through whom we thirst for the cup, which when it is drunk we shall thirst no more.
O God, who dost convince the world of sin, of justice, and of judgment.
O God, through whom we are not shaken by those who have no faith.
O God, through whom we denounce the error of those who think that the merits of souls are naught before Thee.
O God, through whom we do not serve weak and beggarly elements.
O God, who dost cleanse us, who dost make us ready for divine rewards, graciously come to me.
4.
Whatever I have said, come to my aid, Thou, the one God, the one, eternal, true substance in whom there is no strife, no disorder, no change, no need, no death; where there is supreme harmony, supreme clarity, supreme permanence, supreme fullness, supreme life; where there is no deficiency and no excess; where the One begetting and the One begotten is One.
O God, who art served by all things which serve, who art obeyed by every good soul.
O God, by whose laws the poles revolve, the stars follow their courses, the sun rules the day, and the moon presides over the night; and all the world maintains, as far as this world of sense allows, the wondrous stability of things by means of the orders and recurrences of seasons: through the days by the changing of light and darkness, through the months by the moon’s progressions and declines, through the years by the successions of spring, summer, autumn, and winter, through the cycles by the completion of the sun’s course, through the great eras of time by the return of the stars to their starting points.
O God, by whose ever-enduring laws the varying movement of movable things is not suffered to be disturbed, and is always restored to a relative stability by the controls of the encompassing ages.
O God, by whose laws the choice of the soul is free, and rewards to the good and chastisements to the wicked are meted out in accord with inexorable and universal destiny.
O God, from whom all good things flow even unto us, and by whom all evil things are kept away from us.
O God, above whom, beyond whom, and without whom nothing exists.
O God, under whom everything is, in whom everything is, with whom everything is.
O God, who hast made man to Thine image and likeness, a fact which he acknowledges who knows himself.
Hear, hear, O hear me, my God, my Lord, my King, my Father, my Cause, my Hope, my Wealth, my Honor, my Home, my Native Land, my Salvation, my Light, my Life.
Hear, hear, O hear me, in that way of Thine well known to a select few.
5.
Thee alone do I love; Thee alone do I follow; Thee alone do I seek; Thee alone am I ready to serve, for Thou alone hast just dominion; under Thy sway do I long to be.
Order, I beg Thee, and command what Thou wilt, but heal and open my ears, so that with them I may hear Thy words.
Heal and open my eyes so that with them I may perceive Thy wishes.
Banish from me my senselessness, so that I may know Thee.
Tell me where I should turn that I may behold Thee; and I hope I shall do all Thou hast commanded me.
Look, I beseech Thee, upon Thy prodigal, O Lord, kindest Father; already have I been punished enough; long enough have I served Thine enemies whom Thou hast beneath Thy feet; long enough have I been the plaything of deceits. Receive me Thy servant as I flee from them, for they took me in a stranger when I was fleeing from Thee.
I realize I must return to Thee. Let Thy door be open to my knocking. Teach me how to come to Thee. Nothing else do I have but willingness. Naught else do I know save that fleeting and perishable things are to be spurned, certain and eternal things to be sought after. This I do, O Father, because this is all I know, but how I am to reach Thee I know not.
Do Thou inspire me, show me, give me what I need for my journey.
If it is by faith that they find Thee who have recourse to Thee, give me faith; if it is through virtue, give me virtue; if it is by knowledge, give knowledge to me. Grant me increase of faith, of hope, and of charity. O how marvelous and extraordinary is Thy goodness.
6.
To Thee do I appeal, and once more I beg of Thee the very means by which appeal is made to Thee. For, if Thou shouldst abandon us, we are lost; but Thou dost not abandon us, because Thou art the Supreme Good whom no one ever rightly sought and entirely failed to find. And, indeed, every one hast rightly sought Thee whom Thou hast enabled to seek Thee aright. Grant that I may seek Thee, my Father; save me from error. When I seek Thee, let me not find aught else but Thee, I beseech Thee, Father. But, if there is in me any vain desire, do Thou Thyself cleanse me and make me fit to look upon Thee.
With regard to the health of this my mortal body, so long as I am ignorant of its usefulness to me or to those whom I love, I entrust it to Thee, O wisest and best of Fathers, and I shall pray for it as Thou shalt in good time advise me. This only I shall ask of Thine extreme kindness, that Thou convertest me wholly to Thee, and that Thou allowest nothing to prevent me when I wend my way to Thee. I beg Thee to command, while I move and bear this my body, that I may be pure, generous, just, and prudent; that I may be a perfect lover and knower of Thy Wisdom; that I may be worthy of Thy dwelling place, and that I may in fact dwell in Thy most blessed kingdom. Amen. Amen. (Source: Soliloquies 1.1−6; Migne PL 32 cols 869−872; tr. Gilligan pp. 343−350).
Bibliography
Augustini Hipponensis. Soliloquia (Soliloquiorum libri II). Migne Patrologia Latina vol. 32, cols. 869−904, Paris, 1841. Latin text.
Gilligan, Thomas F. St. Augustine: Soliloquies. In: Schopp, Ludwig (ed), Writings of St. Augustine, Vol. 1. (Fathers of the Church, Vol. 5). CUA Press, 1947 (repr. 2008); pp. 333−426. English translation.
What is True Charity?
The other day a thought occurred to me which seems to clarify the meaning of Charity, as distinct from other related things like compassion and sympathy, generosity, kindness, etc. The definition: Charity is acting to love others for the sake of God.
At first glance this may strike you as prosaic – a mere formula, one in fact, found in traditional Christian teaching. Likely I had heard this formula someplace, yet it never quite stuck. This time, however, from my creative imagination, Muse, or call-it-what-you-will, there arose insight into the meaning, not merely the definition, of Charity.
To understand true Charity it helps to refer to Platonism.
A hallmark of Platonism is that God is identified as the source and very essence of Goodness. Plato’s defined God, in fact, as the Form or pattern of Goodness of which all individual good things partake, just as all triangles partake of…
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