Four ways of reading scripture

On Sentire Cum Ecclesia, David talks about a commonality between Jewish and Christian scriptural interpretation traditions. Here is a summary of the Jewish method known as Pardes:

Pardes refers to (types of) approaches to biblical exegesis in rabbinic Judaism (or – simpler – interpretation of text in Torah study). The term, sometimes also spelled PaRDeS, is an acronymn formed from the name initials of the following four approaches:

• Peshat — “plain” (“simple”) or the direct meaning.
• Remez — “hints” or the deep (allegoric: hidden or symbolic) meaning beyond just the literal sense.
• Derash — from Hebrew darash: “inquire” (“seek”) — the comparative (midrashic) meaning, as given through similar occurrences.
• Sod (pronounced with a long O as in ‘bone’) — “secret” (“mystery”) or the mystical meaning, as given through inspiration or revelation.

And here is a summary of the patristic method, as outlined in the Catechism:

115 …[O]ne can distinguish between two senses of Scripture: the literal and the spiritual, the latter being subdivided into the allegorical, moral and anagogical senses. …
116 The literal sense is the meaning conveyed by the words of Scripture and discovered by exegesis, following the rules of sound interpretation: “All other senses of Sacred Scripture are based on the literal” [St. Thomas Aquinas].
117 The spiritual sense…
1. The allegorical sense…
2. The moral sense…
3. The anagogical sense….
118 A medieval couplet summarizes the significance of the four senses: “The Letter speaks of deeds; Allegory to faith; The Moral how to act; Anagogy our destiny.”

Adventures and misadventures in the NZ public health system

I was once given an explanation for the attitude to patients that is endemic in our public health system.

Our public hospitals in New Zealand are based on – and inherit their underpinning culture from – the British Public Hospital system. They, in turn, grew from the charity hospitals of the 19th century. Then – as is again becoming the case today – people of any means paid for medical care. Those who couldn’t afford a doctor and private nursing – if they couldn’t get better on their own – were stuck with the charity hospital and what treatment the doctors and medical staff thought most appropriate. Patients had no voice – no say in their treatment, and no right to any respect. They were simply collections of symptoms to be given treatment – useful, perhaps, as examples for students, but of no particular value.

Meanwhile, in the private system then as now, patients who could pay for their own treatment received medical advice on which to base their own decisions, and they were treated as clients rather than subjects.

My informant was a GP – he believed that the system wouldn’t change until GPs made part of the decisionmaking care team in the hospital system, as advocates and lead medical advisers for their own clients. Instead, as soon as a GP’s client becomes a hospital patient, the GP is left out of the consulting circle. He or she is sent a copy of any decisions after a hospital medical practitioner has made them, but isn’t part of the care team.

We’ve just paid $400 for our Mum to have a private consultation to receive the information we need for decisionmaking, since she was discharged from hospital without any explanation, information, or care plan.  The consultation has not made any difference to medical management; there is no new treatment plan. But we’ve been listened to; we’ve had the opportunity to have questions answered; we’ve had matters explained so that Mum can make her own decisions about how to live from now on. It was $400 well spent.

Ironically, the specialist we consulted is the head of the public hospital team. If he made sure his people did their jobs in the public system as well as he does his job in the private system, we’d have been better off. He, however, would have been $400 worse off. And that’s just one patient. With that incentive structure, what are the likely results?

Going AWOL again

I’m off to the airport shortly, and I’m not taking my computer with me. I’ll be able to check in from time to time over the weekend, and will comment if I have time, but I won’t post again till Monday. I might be in the mood for a small rant about the NZ public health system. Let’s see how things go!

 

Finest ideals and worst vitriol

Here’s a link to a post from Joanne McPortland on her feelings about the abortion debate in the United States. The following quote strongly resonates with me:

Tomorrow marks the 39th anniversary of the passage of Roe v. Wade, and everybody I know is–literally or figuratively–on the bus to Washington for the annual March for Life. Most of the Catholics I know and love are on the bus in support of the march and in passionate protest of the right to legalized abortion that Roe established. Most of the non-Catholics I know and love are on another bus entirely, in protest of the march and in passionate support of retaining and expanding Roe’s provisions.

There’s a seat saved for me on each bus, but I feel more like I’ve been run over by them both.

I loathe the vitriol that so often fuels both vehicles, quite frankly. Taking a seat on either bus would mean aligning myself not only with the finest ideals and most compassionate goals of that side of the debate–and believe me, I know how much of a limb I’m going out on even to cede that both sides have ideals and compassion!–but also with the worst bigotry and stereotyping and hatred that side can muster. All this in the name of human life, that most precious and dignified gift of God–as precious and dignified, I deeply believe, in the form of a woman struggling to choose where her life goes next as it is in the tiny footprint of her fetus.

And this:

I want passionately to advocate for a world in which no woman aborts, because there are no circumstances in which there aren’t better and safer and more affordable and compassionate and communally-supported alternatives that respect the woman as a person as much as the child she carries. I want to stand up for the wonder and glory of life in all its complicated, messy, terrifying, holy forms and circumstances.

What she said.

Egregious twaddle

I’ve added a link on the side bar to the blog Egregious twaddle. H/T Max Lindenman.

Today, she posted on the reasons for her blog name, and included this clip on eloquent silence from Pope Benedict’s message for World Communications Day.

By remaining silent we allow the other person to speak, to express him or herself; and we avoid being tied simply to our own words and ideas without them being adequately tested. In this way, space is created for mutual listening, and deeper human relationships become possible. It is often in silence, for example, that we observe the most authentic communication taking place between people who are in love: gestures, facial expressions and body language are signs by which they reveal themselves to each other. Joy, anxiety, and suffering can all be communicated in silence – indeed it provides them with a particularly powerful mode of expression. Silence, then, gives rise to even more active communication, requiring sensitivity and a capacity to listen that often makes manifest the true measure and nature of the relationships involved. When messages and information are plentiful, silence becomes essential if we are to distinguish what is important from what is insignificant or secondary. 

“Can any good thing come out of Nazareth?”

One of the great risks of the modern world is that we solve the problem of information overload by selecting our information sources according to how well we think they’ll suit our preconceived ideas. It is reassuring to read books, blog posts, and comments by people who agree with me. And I might learn something Ididn’t know before, so it can be useful, too.

However, if all my reading comes from a few sources, all of which confirm me in my prejudices, I’m doing myself a disservice. This is true whatever my preconceived ideas: I could be an orthodox Catholic or an evangelical athiest, a jihadist or a peacenik, a ecowarrior or a Randian capitalist. Quite apart from the fact that no-one is a pure example of one ‘label’ or another – even a Randian capitalist may have something pertinent to say about (for example) the care of houseplants – If I read only within my own circle, I might as well be talking to myself.

However, to get the full advantage of stepping outside my comfort zone, it isn’t enough to read from sources that I suspect will be antithecal to my most cherished beliefs. Any comment box can provide examples of people who do just that – but with their minds tight shut and their guns blazing.

How much better, rather, to start with a different set of assumptions: that the writer has something useful to say; that I can learn something; that the writer (and other commenters, if applicable) are people of good will who deserve the benefit of the doubt when a text is ambiguous.

Here are some of the rewards of such an approach:

• In giving respectful consideration to others, I might win the same in return.
• In allowing my views to be challenged I have the opportunity to test their truth – to change what is wrong and learn the strength of what is right.
• Inevitably, people introduce ideas I haven’t thought about, ideas I haven’t heard of.

Sometimes, I’m confirmed in my preconceptions – those who submit to the source really are just plain wrong. Sometimes, I decide that a source is simply not worth the time and emotional energy; if those who write and those who comment can’t get past a juvenile adversarial style, there’s just no point. Mostly, though, I stand to learn a great deal; even if I don’t change my mind, I grow it.

Let me finish by saying how much I appreciate the commenters on this blog, who keep returning in good humour arguing their points with courtesy and respect even when they get dumped on by me and the other commenters. Such an approach, in my view, harnesses the best of the information revolution.

What Dads are for

Matthew Archibold has posted “Some Things Moms Can’t Do“.

Men make good Dads. Women make good Mums. Having one of each isn’t always possible; but it is sure as eggs optimum.

Sex as allegory

An article in First Things caught my eye, touching as it does on the place of sexual fulfillment as an allegory for spiritual union with God. The Poetry of Sex looks at modern and ancient readings of the Song of Songs, and makes the claim:

Sex is allegory, and as allegory it is metaphysics and theology and cosmology.

 

St Benedict’s seven principles

Fr Longenecker restated for families the seven principles for community living underpinning the rule of St Benedict in a recent article for the the ezine The Integrated Catholic Life:

Seven Principles for a Peaceful Life

Its often joked that all a man wants out of his home is to have a peaceful life. This often means the man cops out and avoids all conflict. The Benedictine way to develop a peaceful home is to be pro-active and create peace in the home. Benedict lays down seven principles which can help most fathers build the peaceful and happy home they long for.

1. First of all, each person in the family must be treated according to their particular needs. Christian equality doesn’t mean we all get the same thing. It means we all get what we need. Benedict says the abbot “must adapt and fit himself to all…one to be encouraged, another to be rebuked, another persuaded, each according to his own nature.” One child may need gentle encouragement; another may need a tough regime.
2. Linked with this flexibility is Benedict’s second principle of good fathering. He says the abbot “must show the tough attitude of the master, and also the loving affection of a father.” The father must balance the toughness of the drill sergeant with the tenderness of a nurse. A wise father combines the strengths of both characters while leaving the faults behind.
3. Thirdly, the abbot must lead by his actions as much as by his teaching. It is an awesome thought that, in the long run, children will do as we do, not as we say. Benedict reminds the abbot that he too lives according to the rule and must be seen to obey the principles he puts forward for others.
4. This can only happen if the community lives in a constant spirit of forgiveness. This is the fourth principle. Benedict teaches the errant monk to come to the abbot instantly to ask forgiveness, and the abbot must forgive at the first request. Benedict reminds us that we must not “let the sun go down on our anger.” In a Christian home we cannot ignore conflicts, hoping that the problems will solve themselves. Instead, forgiveness must be a pro active force in the home. The Christian Dad has the responsibility to wade in, solve the problems and insist on mutual and real forgiveness, and if he is at fault, he too, must ask forgiveness.
5. Benedict’s fifth principle for peace is obedience. Although he calls for a military-type obedience, Benedict wants us to take this principle deeper. The word “obedience” has its root in the meaning “to listen” and all through his rule Benedict encourages his monks to listen to God and to listen to one another. This sensitive listening and awareness of the needs of others lies at the heart of a peaceful community. In one of the final chapters of the rule Benedict encourages his monks to obey one another in love. An attitude of mutual service and attention in our families will help build good communication as well as confidence and natural good manners.
6. The sixth principle is prayer. At the heart of Benedict’s wisdom is the assumption that the Christian family is a community of prayer. Benedict speaks clearly about the need for prayer to be natural and from the heart. “Indeed we must grasp that it is not by using many words that we shall get our prayers answered, but by purity of heart…Prayer therefore should be short and pure”. Benedict believes that the family that prays together stays together, and every family will be relieved to discover that Benedict says prayer is better short, sharp and sincere than long winded and showing off.
7. The final principle for peace is stability or balance. The Benedictine monk takes a vow of stability. This means he stays in one monastery for life. Our marriages are for life, and this gives the Christian man and woman the opportunity for stability and peace. At the root of the call for stability is the realization that God is not elsewhere. God is to be found here and now, not there and then. He is found in the face of our wives and children. He is found in the terrible moments of family life as well as the wonderful moments. Stability makes us rooted and grounded in love, and the consequence is great peace and confidence.

A love affair with Love Himself

Some people – on both sides of the debate – talk about Catholicism as if it was a set of codified rules; a legalistic prescription for mollifying a tyrannical and pernickity God.

The Anchoress has a post pointing to several articles that remind us that the heart of our faith is a relationship. Here’s just one quote to give you the flavour – please read the rest.

God says, in essence: “For your sake, I will become broken, too, but in a way meant to render you more Whole, and Holy, so that our love may be mutual, complete, constantly renewed, and alive. I love you so much that I will Incarnate, and surrender myself to you. I will enter into you (stubborn, faulty, incomplete you, adored you, the you that can never fully know me or love me back) and I will give you my whole body. I will give you all of myself, unto my very blood, and then it will finally be consummated between us, and you will understand that I have been not just your God, but your lover, your espoused, your bridegroom. Come to me, and let me love you. Be my bride; accept your bridegroom and let the scent and sense of our love course over and through the whole world through the church I beget to you. I am your God; you are my people. I am your bridegroom; you are my bride. This is the great love story, the great intercourse, the great espousal, and you cannot imagine where I mean to take you, if you will only be faithful . . . as I am always faithful.“

The best of us are not those who say ‘no’: no to promiscuity, no to abortion, no to laissez-faire capitalism, no to all the ills that ail our society. The best of us are those who say ‘yes’: yes to deep marital commitment and loyalty, yes to helping those in need, yes to working together for the good of all, yes – in fact – to our divine Bridegroom, the Love whose love makes all things new.