Allow me to do a little thinking out loud.
I’ve been mulling over some terms we use when it comes to the realm of might be called moral theology and Christian ethics. These are disciplines that, paired with theology, train us to see rightly in the light of Christ.
Of course, they can feel abstract. But they do deal with concrete terms and concepts that visibly play out in the world. They wrestle out and weigh truth claims against each other alongside Scripture, tradition, philosophy, and the like. They aid us in living as Christians in the world. (Please go to the professionals for more on that.)
In any case, there’s been some basic concepts mulling around in my mind as relates to this newsletter, one of which has occupied much of my headspace. Though not exhaustive, it helps me to lay them out in a “What are we dealing with here, and how might they interact?” type of way.
Hopefully it makes some kind of sense.
To refresh the memory, here is Galatians 5:22-23: “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law.”
And then we have some clusters and kinds of virtue as developed in Christian tradition. (Forgive me for not citing all sources, I captured these long ago and forget exactly where I got the definitions).
Prudence, Justice, Fortitude, Temperance
Faith, Hope, Love (or Charity)
They appear in I Thessalonians 1:3 and I Thessalonians 5:8, and of course in I Corinthians 13 when the Apostle Paul writes, “So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.”
Thomas Aquinas describes these virtues as such “first, because their object is God, inasmuch as they direct us aright to God: secondly, because they are infused in us by God alone: thirdly, because these virtues are not made known to us, save by Divine revelation, contained in Holy Writ.”
Pride: A desire for excellence in excess of right reason // Humility: A rightly-ordered estimation of excellence
Gluttony: A disordered desire for good things // Temperance: A desire to keep good things in their rightful place
Lust: A disordered desire for pleasure // Chastity: A rightly-ordered desire for pleasure
Envy: Sorrow for another’s good // Love: To will the good of the other
Greed: A desire for more than is needed // Generosity, Charity: A desire for enough for all
Anger: A desire for vengeance contrary to reason // Meekness: Power under control
Sloth, Acedia: Sorrow for spiritual good; the absence of care // Diligence: Taking care to do what we value most
Merriam Webster defines the conscience as:
the sense or consciousness of the moral goodness or blameworthiness of one’s own conduct, intentions, or character together with a feeling of obligation to do right or be good.
a faculty, power, or principle (as in an individual or group) that steers toward what is right and away from what is wrong.
conformity to what one considers to be correct, right, or morally good.
Who and what helps form it, and in what ways? Certainly, a Christian would say Scripture and the Holy Spirit contributes to this formation, but of course even that doesn’t happen in a vacuum.
In what ways can it be dulled or seared? How would a person know this is happening?
In any case, there are many references in Scripture to the conscience, and much ink has been spilled on those.
This seem to be indicative, to some degree at least, of how a conscience has been formed. It draws from larger ideas I am not well versed in: natural law, metaphysics, and somehow Thomas Aquinas again (it’s always Thomas Aquinas).
Mary Harrington has written on the mind twists we get into in order to create “abominations, but ethical.” What we do with the created order is always speaking something. The way she ends a related essay stopped me in my tracks:
“We need to stop pretending we can’t see what’s right in front of us. The warning was always there. Jesus could have made stone into bread, but he chose not to violate reality just to fill his belly. Instead, he made bread into his own body, to fill our hearts.”
Katelyn Walls Shelton has also written a Defense of the Ick Factor, and its deep gut repulsion that may show up as something like awkwardness in polite conversation.
Oftentimes, a visceral feeling of disgust is the proper response to something intrinsically dark. Darkness hates light and life, order and beauty.
Ephesians 6:12 says, “For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.”
What is the sensation of spiritual darkness?
How does the atmosphere of evil move through space?
What does the weight of warfare feel like?
Spiritual perception is valuable. Creation itself speaks of eternal truths, if we let it. And a muted creation, among other things, renders us susceptible to diminished sight.
Christ’s own sacrifice of suffering, death, and resurrection of his body accomplished spiritual realities. It does not seem insane for the Christian to believe the things of earth, the bodies of his image-bearers, could be wrapped up with spiritual realities. That there could be particular parts of us that incite not just physical effects or emotions, but are wrapped up in a more cosmic struggle.
Where I’m going with this is that phrases such as “our bodies have meaning” or “the order of creation is good” and “we need to create a culture of life” can, as someone described them, come off as mundane and nonviolent. They don’t have teeth. They are “bombastic programming” talk, a roomba vacuum bumping up against you. “Yes, how nice. Moving on.”
When it comes to issues related to the whole body, sexuality, and procreation constellation, we are certainly dealing with matters of moral theology and Christian ethics. We are dealing with the fruit of the spirit and virtue, conscience and the ick factor.
I suppose I would simply like us to consider—without getting unnecessarily obsessed—that these are also matters the powers of darkness are interested in. I’m not sure exactly what this entails, and I’m not trying to find a demon around every corner. But I’ve felt it.
There are theological riches in our co-creative powers. There is spiritual heft in women’s generative potential, and all it asks of us—in both its suffering and blessing. Satan and his minions hate light and life, beauty and order. He despises Christians and what truths they speak in the world, with and through their bodies.
But more on that later.
Above, I asked what this sensitivity to particular realities feels like. I’ve heard an atmosphere of spiritual heaviness or warfare described as humidity: “It is thick, you can almost chew on it, makes it hard to breathe, hard to move.”
What to do when the response is, “What do you mean it’s humid here?”
We can share the articles, labor over the essays, have the conversations, complete our work in the world. What I’m seeing is that spiritual issues, as with any other, are not resolved solely in this manner. What those things become, even over much time, are the needed stacking of stone and wood and animal parts. Prayer calls down the fire.
That blazing illumination of the Holy Spirit is the locus of revelation, the impetus for change.
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