How is an Angel at My Side?

In honor of today's Feast of the Guardian Angels, I'll give a short example of how seemingly abstract philosophical and theological reasoning can provide beautiful insights into the faith. Ready?

We know that we each have a guardian angel whose task it is to watch over us, protect us from spiritual harm (and, in some cases, physical harm), nudge our consciences when we consider doing wrong, and so forth. Our guardian angels are always at our side.

This raises a question, however. Angels do not have bodies; they are pure spirits. Since they have no physical bodies, they can't be said to be in any particular physical place in a physical way, e.g. "at my side." So what does it mean to say that my guardian angel is always present with me, "at my side"?

St. Thomas gives us the answer. He tells us that an angel's relation to place is not according to physical presence but rather according to "contact of power" (ST I, q. 52, a. 1). In other words, an angel is said to be located wherever it is that the angel is working or turning its attention.

Let's put these two things together: if an angel is said to be in a place according to its directing its power to that place, then if our guardian angel is always with us, that means that our angel is always working on us, attentive to us, directing its power to us. Your guardian angel is constantly working for your spiritual well-being.

A beautiful and consoling thought, made possible by a truth cultivated by "dry scholastic speculations." 

Points of Interest

An assortment of things I've run across that you may find of interest....

• I'm sure you can remember cartoons, TV shows, or movies that featured a character in a moral dilemma being advised by an angel on one shoulder and tempted by a devil on the other. Did you ever wonder where this idea came from? Actually, this is a very old idea in Christianity. An excerpt from The Life of Moses by St. Gregory of Nyssa (335-394 AD), one of the greatest Fathers of the Church:

"There is a doctrine (which derives its trustworthiness from the tradition of the fathers) which says that after our nature fell into sin God did not disregard our fall and withhold his providence. No, on the one hand, he appointed an angel with an incorporeal nature to help in the life of each person, and, on the other hand, he also appointed the corruptor who, by an evil and malificent demon, afflicts the life of man and contrives against our nature." (Book II, paragraph 45)

This is consonant with the notion that God allows us to be tempted in order that we might grow stronger in virtue by cooperating with His grace, turning toward God and away from sin. I'm not sure we'd go so far as to say that God appoints a demon to afflict us. But still... I bet you thought some animator made this up. Nope.

• There's an old story that our roads are the width they are today because they were patterned after train rails, which were patterned after carriages, which were patterned after Roman chariots -- so that the width of roads has not changed in 2,000 years! I'm not sure this is true, but there is at least one feature of our society that we do owe directly to the Romans: law. For example, the five basic categories we have today of circumstances which invalidate a contract are the same as they were in ancient Roman law! The survival of this principle is thanks to the medieval canon lawyers, particularly Gratian, who retrieved, collected, integrated and codified the wide assortment of civil and Church law which had survived into the second millennium. The Napoleonic Code was largely based on these surviving bits of Roman law, and its influence spread as France marched across Europe in the early 1800s. This code was then carried into the New World as the nations of Europe colonized the Americas and Africa. That same legal framework undergirds our Constitution. So, you can thank Gratian and St. Raymond of Penyafort for the Bill of Rights.

• When you hear an atheist or agnostic argue against the existence of God, what do they most often say? It's usually some variation on one of these two points: 

1) If God is perfectly good, why is there evil?
2) We can explain the natural world apart from God; we don't need a "God of the gaps," because there are no gaps. 

I can't think of any argument I've heard from an atheist that doesn't boil down to one of these two points. So guess what St. Thomas listed as the two objections to the question of whether God exists in his Summa Theologica? From ST I, Question 2, Article 3:

Objection 1. It seems that God does not exist; because if one of two contraries be infinite, the other would be altogether destroyed. But the word "God" means that He is infinite goodness. If, therefore, God existed, there would be no evil discoverable; but there is evil in the world. Therefore God does not exist.

Objection 2. Further, it is superfluous to suppose that what can be accounted for by a few principles has been produced by many. But it seems that everything we see in the world can be accounted for by other principles, supposing God did not exist. For all natural things can be reduced to one principle which is nature; and all voluntary things can be reduced to one principle which is human reason, or will. Therefore there is no need to suppose God's existence.

Go here to read his replies to the objections. 

The point is: folks, we've been over this before. If you're going to deny that God exists, at least come up with something original. Next time you hear an atheist or agnostic make one of these arguments, point them toward Thomas' argument. Perhaps they'll be surprised that someone who lived 800 years ago had already thought of their clever questions and answered them.

The Week in Review: Henry Fonda Teaches Shakespeare about Love

I hesitate to populate this blog with too many of the mundane details of my life down here for fear of this turning into a LiveJournal/"Dear Diary" endeavor. I mean, do y'all really care to hear about the movies I watched or the random conversations I have with people I hang out with? Certainly if said movies or conversations provoke thoughts I deem worth sharing, I'll share them, but I don't wish to subject you to things like, "I watched The Odd Couple, it was pretty funny," "My friend and I debated the merits of Star Trek: Voyager," or "My roommate and I discussed the various possible explanations in the Manti Te'o hoax." Though if you want to hear such things, say so, and I'll gladly recount them to you.

That aside, there were at least a few events from this last week amusing enough to share.

While driving home from work, my "check engine" light came on. Since the vehicle wasn't otherwise misbehaving, I continued on toward home, but stopped at the local Big O Tires and asked them to look at it. The guy came back to me about 10 minutes later and informed me that there was no oil in my car. I responded with an incredulous, "What!?" and explained that the oil gasket had been leaking but was replaced three months ago by another Big O facility. He said: "Well, if it were burning oil, there should be at least a quart or two of oil left in there if you've only driven 3,000 miles since then. Maybe you've got another leak, but I think they may have forgotten to put oil back in your car when they replaced that gasket." Really? Really!? It seems unlikely that if I were driving around for three months with no oil in my car, the "check engine" light would have only come on now. So, I have to bring the car back in today so they can put 'er up on the rack and check for another leak. Great. Let's hope there's nothing too terribly wrong with it. If they determine there is no leak, and that the only reasonable explanation is that the other joint neglected to re-oil me, rest assured I will return to the other place and politely ask for my blasted money back.

On Friday evening a few friends and I went to Chipotle for dinner, and found ourselves in a discussion as to whether angelic sin is in any way comparable to human sin due to the difference in the natures of angels and humans. I think I can safely say this was the first time such a conversation took place at a Chipotle.

I saw Shakespeare in Love for the first time this week. Two thoughts occur to me. One, Saving Private Ryan should have beat it for Best Picture that year. Two, the movie is improperly titled. In the story, William Shakespeare becomes involved with a nobleman's daughter who disguises herself as a man to act in his plays. The two characters are shown many times in acts of physical intimacy, and professing their and feeling for each other. But perhaps Bill Shakespeare ought to ask himself the question immortalized by the band Whitesnake: "Is this love that I'm feeling?" It looks a lot more like lust or infatuation pure emotionalism. The relationship between them seems so shallow. You don't get the sense that either of the characters really has that deep care and concern and self-sacrificing motivation that characterizes love of another. It's emotionalism charged by physical attraction. That ain't love; that might be how a relationship that leads to love could begin, but it's not there yet.

The distinction between the two is portrayed well in the original version of Yours, Mine, and Ours. Henry Fonda and Lucille Ball play two middle-aged widowed people, each with a few children of their own. They meet, and over a period of time (covered in a montage) they talk about their lives: their past marriages, their children, their difficulties and hopes and fears. They get to really know each other, and to really love each other. This sort of deep relationship is contrasted in the film by the "puppy love" of Lucy's teenage daughter, who wants to run with her beau, whom she thinks she "loves." As the daughter is telling this to her parents, right as Lucy is going into labor with her and Henry's baby, Henry tells the daughter,

You want to know what love really is, take a look around you. Take a look at your mother. It's giving life that counts. Until you're ready for that, all the rest is just a big fraud.... Life isn't a "love-in": it's the dishes, and the orthodontist, and the shoe repairman; ground round instead of roast beef. And I'll tell you something else: it isn't going to bed with a man that proves you're in love with him; it's getting up in the morning and facing the drab, miserable, wonderful, everyday world with him that counts.

Amen, Henry. Amen. I wish that more movies would give this sort of picture of love, instead of the typical "Let's exchange witty pick-up lines until we spend the night together." How pedestrian.