Tag: Limitations

True or False

Polydactylism is an anomaly in human beings and animals—i.e., extra fingers and/or toes.
   Suppose you were playing True or False, and the question was “Humans have five fingers, true or false?” The common sense, customary response would be “True”—but sometimes, rarely, they don’t. So the right answer must be “False”.
   Now, if the question was more nuanced, say, “Humans usually (or mostly) have five fingers, true or false?” the right answer would be “True”.
   But if the players of this game all lived on an isolated little island (never mind that “isolated” and “island” are both derived from the same root word) where everybody has six fingers . . . well, you get the idea.
   On a day to day basis, it’s hard to find real life “absolute” truths and/or “absolute” falsehoods.
   A similar challenge involves characterizing something as either “right” or “wrong”, or as “good” or “bad”.
   The problem is whether there is such a thing as an “absolute”—because an absolute means something 100%, without exception.
   An absolute is a projection, based on experience. In practice, one end of a range is an absolute—e.g., from 100% True to 100% False. You can be at any point on the range, but you’re never at either end point.
   None of us are ever 100% True or 100% False; 100% Right or 100% Wrong; 100% Good or 100% Bad—no creature, that is. (100% is either a theoretical abstract or we’re talking about God.)
   But just because no view, opinion, or decision is absolutely (100%) true or absolutely (100%) false, it doesn’t mean that all views, opinions, and decisions are of equal value or worth.
   We judge things—and even argue about things—on the basis of how close or how far away they are from the ideal (the absolute).

   A popular classification or rating criterion now-a-days has to do with liking. Someone tweets something, and then we learn about how many “Likes” it got in response. (We don’t get into whether it refers to liking a lot or only liking a little.)
   This is a measure of popularity at any given moment in time (presuming, of course, that everyone more or less understands the tweet, view, opinion or decision being classified in the same way.)
   An idea may be very popular, but this has little to do with it being true or false—or right or wrong, or good or bad.
   When you get down to it, there’s a high degree of relativity to every aspect of our lives. We may not be perfectly (100%) good, but we may be striving to be good. Our ideals are the carrot on the stick!
   We often “like” the unearthing of negative facts about people. And, since none of us are perfectly (100%) good or bad, smart or dumb, prudent or imprudent, selfless or selfish, there’s always something to accuse, criticize, unearth, or discredit about each of us—about every human person, no matter who!
   What’s really important is what are our absolutes, our ideals, what are our carrots on the stick in front of us.
   If we try to be true, right, or good and manage to be more often than not we may be on the way to becoming “saints”—e.g. exemplary people, outstanding in many ways, models to be imitated.
   On the other hand, if more often than not we’re false, wrong, bad, we also may be exemplary people, outstanding in many ways, but an entirely different kind of model!


14 March 2021

The Doctrine of Fallibility

I don’t think that there ever has been a solemn, ecclesiastical definition of the doctrine of fallibility. You know why? There’s no need to.
As anyone with even half a grain of common sense knows, human beings are fallible.
That means that they can be deceived or make mistakes or fall into error or do something wrong (in traditional religious terms, they can sin).
I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude or offensive, but you are fallible. And, to be perfectly (?) honest, I’m fallible, too. You might say, it’s part of the human condition.
Don’t be unnecessarily ashamed! It’s the way God made us, so to speak. It’s the nature of a created being, It means we all have limitations, we all are less than perfect.
Yes. Even you. Even me.
I remember this being discussed in a Theology class years ago. The teaching was that, except for a special act and provision of God, no human person has been, is, or can be without sin.
Has there ever been a “dispensation from fallibility” for a human person? Yes!
– Mary, the mother of Jesus: By a special dispensation of God, she was born even without “original sin” and by the grace of God never sinned during her whole life. (Doctrine of the Immaculate Conception.)
– The Bishop of Rome: If and when he speaks ex cathedra, in the fullness of his authority as successor of Peter and head of the church regarding matters of doctrine, he cannot lead the people of God astray. (Doctrine of Papal Infallibility.)
Many people would not agree about such dispensation or even think in such categories. Generally, we accept that human beings, being limited and therefore less than perfect, are fallible.
But, oh how shocked we sometimes can become in denouncing another’s failures!

All throughout human history, because we know about human fallibility, there have been social structures designed to moderate or react to the damage it can cause.
Training, apprenticeships, compulsory schooling, accreditations—rules, regulations, decrees, laws, judicial decisions, edicts, constitutions—legal punishments, classifications, competitions, disputes—they’re all needed in a world of fallible people, no matter how high their ideals and standards may be.
It really is hypocritical when puffed up with “righteous” indignation, we profess shock or surprised dismay by the failings of another. Failings are part of the nature of people.
Rather than entertain ourselves with the failings of others (which we often do), our challenge as fallible persons is how best to react to the manifestations of their fallibility.
All of our training, restraining, and punishing social structures are not enough. We also, each and all, need to have and bring to the table personal understanding (insight into what makes the other person tick), compassion (empathy for a fellow fallible), forgiveness (not forgetting, but remembering that failing is part of “doing what comes naturally”), and love (pardoning, empowering, and revitalizing).
There’s an incident near the end of Jesus’ life that his followers know well yet often forget:
When he was being crucified, so were two others—criminals. One mocked Jesus; the other asked to be remembered when he came into his kingdom. Jesus’ response to this very fallible thief was: “Today you will be with me in paradise.”


21 February 2021

For the New Year

If you’re thinking about resolutions, here are some thoughts about thinking:

THINK (Look before you leap!) Do I think before I react:
 – when I read an email or newspaper or magazine or book?
 – when I listen to somebody else in person or through the internet or on the radio or TV?
 – when I watch a movie or video or play?
 – when I chat, gossip, criticize, praise, or advocate?
 – when I go to a rally or sporting event or assembly or religious service?

THINK CRITICALLY (Does it make sense?)
 – Is what I see or hear fact or fiction?
 – Does it make sense based on what I have experienced or know or believe or have been taught?
 – Does it stand up to testing? What would happened if it were put into practice?

THINK FREELY (What am I afraid of?)
 – Do I just echo or relay other people’s ideas or words?
 – Do I trust my own judgements?
 – Do I know enough about what I’m talking about?
 – Do I have the courage to face the consequences of what I say or do?
 – Am I afraid of disagreement or negative reaction or criticism or dismissal?

THINK REALISTICALLY (“Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me”)
 – Do I confuse the impossible ideal with the real?
 – Do I remember that living in the flawed human situation includes me, too?
 – Do I remember that it’s “better to light one candle than to curse the darkness”?
 – Does practice make perfect or just make us better or neither?

THINK OUTSIDE THE BOX
 – Do I realize that there never has been, is, or will be a person exactly, 100 percent, like me?
 – Do I realize that I may have to face or deal with a situation that in some ways is different from everybody else’s knowledge or experience?
 – Do I realize that no one, short of God, knows all the right answers?
 – Do I realize that just because something never happened before doesn’t mean it cannot happen now?
 – When I come up with a new idea or recommendation or proposal for a solution to a problem, do I carefully explore its consequences and test it out before I decide if it’s right or good?
 – Can I live without other people’s recognition or approval or esteem or applause?
 – Can I live with other people’s criticism or misunderstanding or rejection or condemnation or ostracization?

THINK HUMBLY
 – Do I realize or sometimes forget that I am a creation?
 – Do I remember to seek to discern the designs and will of my creator?
 – Do I have a fixed set of values? If so, what is their source?
 – How do my thoughts, word, and deeds stand up in relation to my fundamental values?
 – Do I remember that even those who explain, teach, or preach about the designs and will of God have their limitations and imperfections?
 – Is “God help me!” part of my mind set?


3 January 2021

The Devil Is in the Details

It’s a familiar expression—which curiously enough seems to have nothing at all to do with the idea of a powerful evil spirit lurking behind the scenes to exert some kind of malign influence.
In fact, is seems to be rooted in an old Germanic proverb which actually was “The good God is in the detail”!
In any case what it often means is “something might seem simple at a first look but will take more time and effort to complete than expected”.
What brought it to mind for me was thinking about what St. Paul wrote to the Thessalonians about the Day of the Lord.
His first letter to the Thessalonians actually is the earliest written document we have in the Christian scriptures (the New Testament). It probably dates from about 20 years after the death and resurrection of Jesus.
Thessalonica, the principal city of Macedonia, today is the second largest city of Greece. It was the first European city that St. Paul visited during his second missionary journey, after his experiences in Asia Minor (modern Turkey).
The simple folk there who had welcomed the good news of Jesus and who were looking forward to his imminent return in glory had a serious concern: what would happen to those who died before his return and would not be alive to welcome him?
Paul wrote to them (1 Thess 4:13-17):

   We do not want you to be unaware, brothers, about those who have fallen asleep, so that you may not grieve like the rest, who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose, so too will God, through Jesus, bring with him those who have fallen asleep. Indeed, we tell you this, on the word of the Lord, that we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will surely not

precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself, with a word of command, with the voice of an archangel and with the trumpet of God, will come down from heaven, and the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air.

“Fallen asleep”, of course means “died”; it was a common euphemism. Paul was reassuring them that those who died before the second coming of the Lord would not be disadvantaged when the Day of the Lord came.
But, with all due respect, although we share his conviction, the descriptive details he added were somewhat imaginative!
However, we still use his metaphor of sleep to describe death:
We display the body in the casket as though asleep. We place the casket in a cemetery (the word comes from the Greek for a sleeping place). We pray, “Eternal rest grant to them, O Lord.” We sometimes mark the tombstone with “R.I.P” (Rest In Peace).
A common usage in science-fiction uses the metaphor in slightly different way. The space voyager is placed in “suspended animation” for a journey often longer than a lifetime, to be awakened when the final destination is reached.
“Faith” is a curious thing. It is a certainty, but not of the same breed as “knowledge”.
With “knowledge” we usually go step-by-step with the details to get to the conclusion.
With “faith” we have certainty without the details. We have to leave them to the Devil—whoops, I mean, to God!

1 November 2020

(Available in
Spanish translation)

Duodecimal Relations

Sometimes I wonder if people learned to count on 6-fingered hands; so many things presume a number system based on 12.
    Consider time. Almost everyone in the whole world divides the day into 24 hours; some divide it further into 12 a.m. (before noon) and 12 p.m. (after noon). Also, each hour has 60 minutes — that’s 5 times 12 — and each minute, 60 seconds.
Special measurements are similar. A circle is divided into 360 degrees — 6 times 60. Mapmakers and navigators count 180 degrees east and west from a prime meridian — an imaginary north-south line passing through the Royal Observatory in Greenwich. Each of these degrees of longitude is subdivided into 60 minutes and each minute, into 60 seconds.
There are 12 inches to a foot, 12 months in a year, 12 signs of the Zodiac and 12 days of Christmas. We may shop for a dozen (12) rolls in a bakery and we may get one more as a bonus, a “baker’s dozen.” Maybe that’s why the week has 7 days — 6 days of work plus a bonus day of rest from God — and why 7 is considered a lucky number.
In the Jewish Scripture, 12 is an important number. Ishmael had 12 chieftains. Jacob had 12 sons. Israel had 12 tribes. The Law of Moses called for 12 holy breads in the sanctuary. The great basin there rested on 12 bronze oxen. Joshua set up 12 memorial stones after crossing the Jordan. Many armies had 12 thousand men and 12 thousand chariots. The number 12 came to signify completeness — a good round number.
It’s no coincidence that 12 is an important number in Christian Scripture, too. Jesus taught in the temple when he was 12. After the miracle of the multiplication, there were 12 baskets of leftovers. Jesus trusted that the Father could provide him with 12 legions of angels. John’s vision of the saved was 12 thousand from each of the tribes of Israel. Above all else, Jesus chose 12 apostles — referred to by all as “the Twelve.”

How many people knew Jesus during his lifetime? Sometimes he preached to 5,000, but his inner circle was relatively small. He sent out 72 disciples (6 times 12) to prepare his way, evoking the 72 elders that assisted Moses. Jacob’s 12 sons were the foundation of ancient Israel; Jesus’ choice of the Twelve symbolized the foundation of the new.
Jesus was very close to the Twelve plus a few others and lavished most of his time and attention on them. His pastoral methodology was not so much to seek maximum exposure for himself as to form in depth a core group of leaders who, guided by his Spirit, would carry on his work.
How many people get to know you during your lifetime? Some professionals — doctors, nurses, teachers, counselors, clergy, actors or political leaders — may deal with thousands. Movies, radio, TV and the internet expose celebrities to millions. But, how big is your inner circle? How many people can you get really close to, and how many people can get really close to you?
As Jesus did, maybe you should lavish your time and attention on your “Twelve” — your immediate family, your closest friends or your key collaborators — giving them all you can and trusting that, guided by the Spirit, they in turn will reach out to others.
Twelve is a good round number. It signifies completeness. It may also be, more or less, a practical measure of how many close relationships we can support and sustain at any given time.
Maybe 12 times 12 is the way to change the world: 12 to 144 to 1,728 to 20,736 to 248,832 to 2,985,984 to 35,831,808 to 429,981,696 to 5,159,780,352 — that’s almost everybody.
Hey, and it’s only 129!


(Published in
one, 36:3, May 2010)

Unique and Uniquely Limited

If you’ve ever had an itch on your back, you know there are some parts of your body you can’t scratch — there’s no way of reaching them — and you can’t even see them without the help of mirrors.
If we’re that limited with our physical selves, no wonder life is full of instances where there are understandings we can’t reach and aspects of things we can’t see by ourselves.
That’s why we rely so much on the points of view and perspectives of others whether coaches, trainers, counselors, physicians, spiritual directors, teachers, or therapists.
There’s no shame in all of this. It’s simply a matter of capacity. We’re limited in what we’re able to see, understand, or do. For better or worse, that’s the way we are made.
On the other hand, limited though we are, each of us has the potential to reach out to something that no one else can touch, perceive something that no one else can see, or understand something that no one else can quite grasp.
Each of us has experiences — and makes judgments in particular situations — that may be similar to those of others, but they are never entirely the same. Although we’re limited, each of us is also unique.
I think St. Paul may have had this in mind when, writing to the Ephesians, he said that God chose us in Christ before the foundation of the world. Each of us is an irreplaceable and integral component of the divine plan.
Conversely, we can accomplish or understand things working together that no one of us can working separately. Just as, for example, linked multiple batteries are stronger than one and multiple processors compute better than single ones, so a group can achieve things that no member can alone.

Teamwork is a value we usually take for granted in sports, music, research, liturgy, politics, theater, or the military. In practice, we know the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.
Even so, it’s curious and sometimes painful how often, perhaps inadvertently or conveniently, we forget our limitations in some situations, especially in matters of judgment, opinion, or belief.
Remember the story of the blind men trying to describe an elephant? Each touched only one part of its body — skin, leg, tail, ear, trunk, or tusk — and thought then he knew enough to comprehend the nature of the unfamiliar beast.
The story describes each of us. Especially when exploring the unknown, we easily assert that what we see is the complete picture, that what we can understand is the whole story. We forget our limitations — we forget we’re blind.
In the area of physical science, Einstein introduced a principle of relativity. His insight was what we see and grasp is relative to where we stand — and that we affect our observations. Good scientists have a certain humility — they know the limitations of their capacity to understand.
Alas, when it comes to matters of theology or discerning the will of God, scientific humility is often lacking. How arrogantly and dogmatically some religious people claim their truth is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
How much grief we could be spared if only we didn’t forget our limitations and could humbly pool and share the little we discover of the mystery of God and his will.


(Published as “Incapacity” in
one, 32:2, March 2006)

Triage

I arrived at the emergency room of the hospital with my sick friend. “He needs to see a doctor right away,” I said. But, before we could see the doctor, he had to be screened by the triage nurse.
In case you’re not familiar with the term, the French word triage means “picking”, “sorting”, “choice”, or “selection”. It has come to be used in English to describe a difficult and critical pre-selection process.
In this case, since there were too many patients to be seen by the doctor that afternoon, the triage nurse had to set the priorities and decide which cases were the more urgent.
As one who shares primary responsibility for making funding decisions at Catholic Near East Welfare Association, I often feel like a triage nurse.
Regretfully, there are too many needs and too many worthy requests for our aid for us to be able to respond positively to them all. We’re forced to pick and choose among them.
In order to make informed and responsible decisions, we have to set clear priorities and criteria — which is easier said than done.
For example, should our first priority be helping Catholics? In this case, of the countries we serve, Ukraine should get the lion’s share of our attention, with its population of over 4,000,000 Catholics
Most of them are Catholic by tradition, but, after generations of Marxism, not what we in the West would consider “practicing”.
If practicing Catholics are the norm, then India with its dynamic Eastern Catholic Churches numbering 3,400,000 should take first place.

Ironically, by this standard, the Holy Land should get the least of our attention with only 90,000 Catholics.
Should our first priority be the total number of Christians? Then, among the countries we serve, our concern should be for Russia, followed by Ethiopia, Ukraine, India, and Egypt.
Should our prime criterion be poverty and suffering? From this point of view, Ethiopia heads the list. Armenia is in dire straits. Iraq, which normally is considered a wealthy country, now is in great need.
Are humanitarian or pastoral needs more important? Is food or medicine or clothing more important? Is emergency relief more important than long-term development? Which comes first, formation of persons or construction of buildings?
Our agency’s challenge is the same one that each of us faces in our personal lives. The media overwhelm us with knowledge of human needs all over the world. Whom are we to help? And, how much?
In the parable of the good Samaritan, Jesus gives us some of the answer:
Whom do I help? Whoever, in the providence of God, crosses my path, whomever in need I personally encounter in my life’s journey.
How much do I help? As much as the other needs and I can.
Alas, there may need for triage as regards our material resources, but may there never be a limit to our love!


(Published in
Catholic Near East, 19:5, September 1993)