The Deacon

Not all dioceses require men in formation for the diaconate to complete a course in philosophy, yet philosophy can be remarkably helpful to deacons, most notably the philosophy of the Aristotelian-Thomist tradition. Although St. John Paul II affirmed in Fides et Ratio, his 1998 encyclical on the relationship of faith and reason, that the Church does not endorse any particular philosophy per se, it has certainly benefited from its engagement with the “perennial tradition.”

Philosophy’s usefulness as a “handmaid of theology” is explicitly evident in the philosophical subdiscipline of ethics. In the West, articulated moral frameworks are typically anchored in a particular understanding of human nature. Aristotle understood men and women to be reasoning beings, a view that St. Thomas Aquinas adopted but supplemented with the view that we are sons and daughters of a loving God. This understanding begets a particular idea of the good or the good life, which in turn begets a particular understanding of moral behavior — that is, how we think about and act toward ourselves and how we think about and act toward others. This understanding of the moral then prompts a particular understanding of the just, the ways we choose as a community to share — or not share — life’s benefits and burdens.

Some might wonder if the Aristotelian-Thomist tradition is still up to the task of shaping modern ethics. Is the perennial tradition still relevant, given the vexing nature of the social and political conundrums we face?

Let’s see: Our test case can be voting, a vexing issue of the first order. On the one hand, we are challenged by our bishops to exercise our right to vote fully. On the other, the options can seem anything but appealing. Democrat or Republican? Blue or red? Left or right? As people of faith, how can we make any sense of a political environment that seems so hopelessly divided? And as deacons, what are we to do when the Church we represent finds itself in the middle of a cultural minefield littered by such contentious issues as abortion, immigration and global warming? How do we respond to parishioners who are looking to us for insight or — dare we hope — a bit of wisdom about this or that issue?

And so our question: “What would Thomas Aquinas do?” We shouldn’t expect, of course, to discern a clear preference for this or that particular candidate in Thomas’ work. That would be asking too much of a man of the 13th century. Thomas lived in a very different time and place. With some confidence, however, we can detect a two-step discernment process in his moral thinking. Indeed, Thomas would likely have approached voting in a somewhat surprising manner.

Focusing on Moral Virtues

We tend to focus on issues, voting for the candidate who aligns most closely with our interests and values. Hence the profound dissonance some of us experience when a particular candidate aligns with our views on one key issue, but not on others.

In contrast, Thomas’ first step probably would have been to consider the moral virtues exhibited in the lives of the candidates seeking his vote. Following Aristotle, Thomas conceived of the moral virtues as overarching inclinations or powers that can only be developed and sustained by habit. The four moral virtues of prudence, justice, temperance and fortitude were traditionally thought of as irreducible in nature and hence as cardinal, or “hinge,” virtues.

If Thomas found himself in our shoes, he likely would ask, “Which candidate has most clearly exhibited prudence, justice, temperance and fortitude in the way he or she has lived his or her life, not just in the public square, but in private life as well?” (It is worth noting that this approach to voting differs significantly from a notion advanced by some evangelical pastors, who argue that God has demonstrated a marked penchant for promoting unrighteous or dissolute rulers to serve his righteous purposes. The paradigmatic case is Cyrus, the Persian emperor who liberated the Jewish people from Babylon.)

In today’s political environment, this initial step in our analysis might seem to tip our hand. I suspect, however, that different folks would come to different conclusions in this regard in reference to any given set of candidates. There’s nothing quick or easy about the moral virtues. The moral life requires introspection and — in the public square — discursive engagement.

We can say with some confidence that, having completed this initial screening of candidates, Thomas would move on to a second level of analysis. Aristotle believed that the moral virtues must necessarily be ordered or oriented to one or more particular ends. He described the overarching goal, or telos, of the moral life as “eudaemonia,” a term that refers, not to happiness per se, but to a robust understanding of human flourishing. Thomas, like many philosophers in the West over the past two millennia, followed Aristotle in this regard.

Thomas Aquinas went a step further, however. In “Christianizing” Aristotle’s virtue ethics, Thomas added a robust understanding of the natural law as reflected, most notably, in the Ten Commandments. Other committed Christians look to the Old Testament prophets’ condemnation of idolatry and the indifference exhibited by the people’s leaders to the plight of those who lived on the margins of life — that is, the anawim — to the Eight Beatitudes in the fifth chapter of Matthew’s Gospel, to the parable of the sheep and the goats in the 25th chapter of Matthew’s Gospel, to the commandment to love one another in the 13th chapter of John’s Gospel, or to the principles of Catholic social teaching.

‘Thinking and Thinking’

Among these options, the natural law held pride of place in Thomas’ extension on Aristotle’s ethics. John Courtney Murray, a Jesuit philosopher who played a significant role in the development of Dignitatis Humanae, the Second Vatican Council’s document on religious liberty, embraced Thomas’ view in this regard, writing, “Every man, simply because he is a man has to ‘meet’ himself, others and God. In these relationships, he must avoid the evil and do the good that come home to him as evidently evil or good, if he at all understands the situation as he must.”

Murray recognized, of course, that we live in a pluralistic society, a diverse community beset by a vast array of complex issues. The challenge, then, is the correct interpretation of the natural law and its application. In confronting questions of this kind, Murray noted that Thomas would likely have evoked the intellectual virtue of wisdom, which is attained by intense study and guided — but not overly constrained — by tradition: “The answers may contain new specifications of old principles. (According to Thomas:) ‘Things that are just and good may be considered in two ways. There is the formal consideration; and in this sense they are always and everywhere the same, because the principles of right, which are in the natural reason, do not change. There is also the material consideration; and in this sense the same things are not always and everywhere good and just. They have to be determined by the law.’ (Thomas) means ‘by custom’ or by the ‘declaration of the wise.’” Among the wise men — and women — to whom we should turn, we would include, of course, our bishops, who republish “Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship” on a quadrennial basis.

With respect to voting, then, the key to Thomas’ likely discernment process would be its twofold nature: virtue first and then — and only then — that to which the moral virtues are oriented, our individual and shared lives as beloved children of a good and loving God.

Again, some might argue that this second level of analysis could be interpreted in favor of a particular political party. And others claim that the very idea of the natural law is too vague to underwrite any particular campaign promise that any given candidate might propose. Again, however, there is nothing quick or easy about the moral virtues. That said, this second level of discernment would undoubtedly prove most fruitful if it were pursued honestly and forthrightly through the eyes of faith and in collaboration with others.

Philosophy can be defined as “thinking about thinking.” In this instance, we’ve used a philosophical framework privileged in our tradition to help us think through one of the more formidable challenges now confronting leaders in the Church and the faithful, too. Philosophy can help in any number of other instances as well.

DEACON DANIEL LOWERY, Ph.D., is a deacon in the Diocese of Gary, Indiana. Prior to retiring, he served as a professor and administrator at Calumet College of St. Joseph.