Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Creeping rigorism

A regularly recurring theme in my life and, consequently, on this blog is the dangers of rigorism. I think rigorism is a heresy. The Catholic Church has never condemned it as such but it has also been careful never to endorse it either.

Rigorism is hard to define but easy to see. Compare these two quotes and you will see it:
  1. And a second is like it: 'You shall love your neighbour as yourself.'
  2. Love your neighbour more than your own life.
The first is familiar from the Gospel according to Matthew. The second is from a sermon that was once attributed to Barnabas but whose author is now regarded as unknown. The move from "as yourself" to "more than your own life" is rigorism. This one line excepted, it's a great sermon.

The thing to note is that there are many cases where valuing your neighbour more than your own life is clearly admirable. Those who go to war for their country do this. More commonly, any loving husband or loving wife will sometimes value the needs of their spouse above their own. And any parent will do the same for their child.

The problem comes with making this a rule that should always apply in making moral choices. It one thing to occasionally make a  sacrifice by putting the needs of another above your own and another thing all together to make iot a moral law that you should always do this. (I won't go into it but any half-way clever person ought to be able to think of cases where loving your neighbour more than your own life is a bad thing.)

As I've said before, one of the big hints that this isn't a good approach to morality is that our enemies devote so much time to imposing it on us. They want us, as Christians, to all sell everything we own and give the profits to the poor not because they think this is a good thing to do, they have no intention of doing it themselves, but because they want to see us fail.

The pseudo-Barnabas readings comes from today's Office by the way. If we take the reading for the optional feast of Saint Dominic instead, we get this fascinating counter-balance:
He was a man of great equanimity, except when moved to compassion and mercy.
Equanimity means the calmness or composure from being well-balanced. This is something that is good for the person who has it. It is something that is good to have even if, to steal a line, all those around you lose it. You get it by taking care of yourself, which is to say by loving yourself. The only time Dominic abandoned that calm was when moved by compassion and mercy.

Note the obvious implication that Dominic was selective about these times. He was not moved by compassion and mercy all the time. Most of the time he was calm and composed even though he, like us, lived in a world filled with injustice. He even refused the chance to become bishop in order to maintain this calm. Let me give you that quote again in a larger context:
He was a man of great equanimity, except when moved to compassion and mercy. And since a joyful heart animates the face, he displayed the peaceful composure of a spiritual man in the kindness he manifested outwardly and by the cheerfulness of his countenance.
Take care of yourself and you will be a gift to others.

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