Theology by the Slice: The Benefits and Challenges of Being a Psychologist and a Person of Faith

Last Wednesday we heard a talk by Prof. Rochelle Fritz of the Psychology Department. Prof. Fritz earned her doctorate in clinical psychology from Mimi University (which, as we learned is in Ohio) and is the wife of Prof. Peter Fritz, one of our past speakers. Prof. Fritz spoke to us on the relevant topic of being a religious person in a profession where faith is frequently looked down upon.

Both in her experience in graduate school and beyond, Prof. Fritz was somewhat surprised to find that many of her colleagues viewed religion as a bad thing. They tended to view religion as a weakness or a crutch that people leaned on, rather as a good thing and a means of coping. They don't often ask about religion in their work and usually don't consider it as an important part of the culture.

By contrast, Prof. Fritz often found it difficult to work with patients who didn't have any faith (most of her work is with families and children). On the other hand, she found that faith often greatly aided a patient with whatever problem they were dealing with. Religious children who were dealing with some difficult issue in their personal lives often had a source of hope and consolation that other patients lacked. Someone she knew who was terrified of leaving her house could work up the courage to go to a church several times a week. This person's faith also helped Prof. Fritz relate to and connect with her patient, and fostered a sense of hope for recovery.

There are some other challenging aspects Prof. Fritz finds in her profession. For example, if a client wants to pray during a session, the psychologist cannot necessarily oblige him, depending on the rules of the particular institution.  Likewise, there are some ethical issues that religious psychologist face. for example, if a client intended to obtain an abortion and wanted to discuss the issue with her, Prof. Fritz feels compelled to be open about her pro-life beliefs before the discussion.

Prof. Fritz concluded her talk with a discussion with all us about what the place of faith might be in our future professions.  Among other things, we discussed how, although religious people are often accused of imposing their beliefs on others, irreligious people can be equally guilty of the same thing, and about the need for finding comon ground with the people we work with.

We sincerely thank Prof. Fritz for preparing and giving her engaging presentation, and for kindly enduring the lack of "slices" to accompany her theology on Ash Wednesday.

Theology by the Slice: Dante's Vision of Human Destiny

On February 11 we were pleased to welcome back (for the third time now) Prof. James Kee of the English Department. Prof. Kee has spoken to us before* on the Bible and modern literature, and on the poem Love (3) by George Herbert. He returned for one final presentation, this time on the Italian Renaissance poet Dante Alighieri's vision of human destiny in his work The Divine Comedy.

Prof. Kee began his discussion of Dante with some background on the poet's view of the world. According to Fr. Robert Sokolowski of the Catholic University of America, Dante didn't believe the universe was a kind of enclosed, cosmic oneness, but rather a creation in a relation to its Creator. He saw the created world as everything that was not God, and thus unnecessary. The universe, then, is radically contingent on its Creator as its source and sustenance, existing because of God's free act of love. Dante's vision of the universe takes up the relation between the grace of this gift and the nature of things within it.

Dante also thought that nature came from God and circled back to Him. Humans have a substantive quality or nature, and thus a relative autonomy. We have a distinct nature, our being is radically contingent on God's creative gift. Humans also have a proper form, or most perfect ideal, which is comprised of excellence (an idea that Dante got from Aristotle, through reading St. Thomas Aquinas). We have the potential to actualize, or become, this ideal human, and  The Divine Comedy is in part about aspiring toward this telos or final purpose. In addition to these Aristotelian ideas, Dante also draws from St. Augustine's idea of the "restless heart" - that is, that humans find their ultimate completion in God. Human nature is wounded and in need of God's grace. The other aspect of Dante's work, then, is the response to this grace, and the freedom necessary to give that response.

Dante's Comedy takes us through three realms in the afterlife: Inferno (Hell), Purgatorio (Purgatory), and Paradiso (Heaven). In his Hell, we find humans who have actualized their potential in a deformed way. The lowest circle of Hell is reserved for those who seriously betrayed their relationships with others, which could have been the most excellent actualization of their humanity. Dante sees purgatory, however, as a realm of hope, wherein humans can realize their capacity to be free. Purgatory is a mountain (bathed in the light of Venus) divided into seven stories, each representing one of the seven deadly sins. The process of purgation involves refining each of these vices into its contrasting virtue and undoing sinful habits.Heaven, finally, is here humans come to participate in the divine nature through God's grace.

Look for example, at this passage near the end of the Purgatorio translations are by Allen Mandelbaum):

“My son, you’ve seen the temporary fire
and the eternal fire; you have reached
the place past which my powers cannot see.
I’ve brought you here through intellect and art;
from now on, let your pleasure be your guide;
 you can rest or walk until
the coming of the glad and lovely eyes-
those eyes that, weeping, sent me to your side.
Await no further word or sign from me:
your will is free, erect, and whole-to act
against that will would be to err: therefore
I crown and miter you over yourself.” (Purgatorio 27.127-131; 136-142)

Dante's guide through this Hell and Purgatory is Vergil, the Ancient Roman poet. Vergil represents the most excellent a human can be without God's grace. Yet as Dante prepares to exit Purgatory, Vergil cannot accompany him, for Vergil lives in Limbo, the part of Hell reserved for the righteous pagans who lived before Christ. The mystery of God's justice is that Dante has been brought to salvation by an agent who is excluded from it. Furthermore, the line "your will is free to act, erect, whole" Dante's new-found moral freedom. His intellect has guided him to the truth, and his will has assented to it. Having succeeded in purgation, Dante now enjoys the excellences of humanity. He can act spontaneously without fear of error because of his virtue.

For Dante, however, there is more to be had than the excellences alone:

That done, she drew me out and led me, bathed,
into the dance of the four lovely women;
 “Here we are nymphs; in heaven, stars; before
she had descended to the world, we were
assigned, as her handmaids, to Beatrice;
we’ll be your guides unto her eyes; but it
will be the three beyond, who see more deeply,
who’ll help you penetrate her joyous light.”  (31.103-104; 106-11)

Scholars agree that the "four lovely women" are the four cardinal virtues (prudence, fortitude, justice, and temperance), which in turn are the Aristotelian excellences that Dante has just attained to. Yet there is more to Dante's journey than the actualization of excellence. Dante is continuing toward the Augustinian rest with God. It is beyond anything Vergil can show him. It is something that must be given by God.

The "three beyond" refer to the theological virtues (faith, hope, and charity), which will let Dante stare into the eyes of Beatrice, who in turn guides him to the Beatific Vision. He expands on the three virtues here:

My eyes were so insistent, so intent
on finding satisfaction for their ten-
year thirst that every other sense was spent.
And to each side, my eyes were walled in by
indifference to all else (with its old net,
the holy smile [of Beatrice] so drew them to itself),
when I was forced to turn my eyes leftward
by those three goddesses because I heard
them warning me: “You stare too fixedly.”
And the condition that afflicts the sight
when eyes have just been struck by the sun’s force
left me without my vision for a time. (32.1-12)

The "three goddesses" are again the theological virtues. Although Dante longs to look into Beatrice's eyes, he cannot do so by himself with being blinded. The Three admonish him, saying he stares "too fixedly." The theological virtues, which are beyond the human excellences, are a radical gift of God. Dante needs God's help (represented by the help of the three goddesses) to enjoy the beatific vision.

Dante can eventually look into Beatrice's eyes without harm:

The eyes of Beatrice were all intent
on the eternal circles; from the sun,
I turned aside; I set my eyes on her.
In watching her, within me I was changed
as Glaucus changed, tasting the herb that made
him a companion of the other sea gods.
Passing beyond the human [It. trasumanar] cannot be
worded; let Glaucus serve as simile
until grace grant you the experience. (Paradiso 1.64-72)

The word trasumanar is a neologism. Dante created the word to express the idea of "going beyond the human." The simile of Glaucus, a sea-god who was transformed from a mortal to an immortal, likewise illustrates what is happening to Dante. The eschatological experience exceeds the natural human teleology. By the gift of God, humans can exceed the human.

Dante at last comes to his description of the beatific vision, which he comes to through Christ:

     In the deep and bright
essence of that exalted Light, three circles
appeared to me; they had three different colors,
but all of them were of the same dimension;
 That circle which, begotten so, appeared
in You as light reflected when my eyes
had watched it with attention for some time,
within itself and colored like itself,
to me seemed painted with our effigy,
so that my sight was set on it completely.
As the geometer intently seeks
to square the circle, but he cannot reach,
through thought on thought, the principle he needs,
so l searched that strange sight: I wished to see
the way in which our human effigy
suited the circle and found place in it
and my own wings were far too weak for that.
But then my mind was struck by light that flashed
and, with this light, received what it had asked.
 Here force failed my high fantasy; but my
desire and will were moved already like
a wheel revolving uniformly – by
the Love that moves the sun and the other stars. (33.114-117; 127-145)

The three circles that are different but with the same dimensions is a representation of the Trinity. The circle that "appeared / in you as light reflected" and "seemed painted with our effigy" is Christ, who is true God and true man. Dante is looking at Christ, attempting to see how his humanity can possibly be united to God's divinity. It is like trying "to square the circle" and the "seeing" that Dante wants refers to intellectual sight or perception. Yet Dante's "wings were far too weak for that" - with his own human faculties, he cannot grasp the mystery before him. Yet he is given grace, his "mind is struck by light that flashed / and, with this light, received what it had asked." By the grace of God, Dante is elevated into a participation in the divine nature.

He is elevated by the "Love that moves the sun and the other stars." Even now, within the created order, we participate imperfectly in God, who created it and sustains it, moving the sun and stars. We obtain a glimmer on earth of the eternal reality that is to come by response the response of "desire and will" to God's gift.

We sincerely thank Prof. Kee not just for this excellent presentation, but for all the times he has come to speak to us. With his (and His) help, we have seen more clearly the glimmer that points beyond itself to "the essence of that exalted Light."

*"The Bible in Modern English Literature," delivered 2.13.13; "Love (3) by George Herbert," delivered 10.9.13.

Theology by the Slice: God, Godlessness and Contemporary Art: On Damien Hirst

We kicked off the new semester with a talk by Prof. Peter Fritz of the Religious Studies Department. Prof. Fritz has spoken to us once before* (on the topic of relating to Mary), and we were thrilled to have him back. He earned his bachelor’s degree from Loyola University Chicago, where he majored in studio art and theology, and he went on to earn his doctorate in theology from the University of Notre Dame. His research is (in part) in theological aesthetics, which includes studying art. He spoke to us in January on contemporary artist Damien Hirst and whether the professedly atheistic artist’s work was at all influenced by his “Catholic imagination.”

Damien Hirst (1965 –) was born in Bristol, England and grew up in Leeds. He studied art at Goldsmiths, University of London. He likes to create series of works with a particular theme. Some of his collections include a Natural History series and a series of dead animals submerged in formaldehyde.  

It has been observed that some of Hirst’s artwork seems to draw heavily from Christian iconography. His work Saint Sebastian, Exquisite Pain, which features a bull submerged in formaldehyde tied to a steel pole and pierced with arrows, is based on many classic depictions of the martyrdom of St. Sebastian.  Likewise, his piece God Only Knows features three flayed sheep nailed to crosses, which clearly draws from many traditional paintings of the crucifixion. Hirst evidently considers religious themes when he makes his pieces. The question is, then, what is the place of God in Hirst’s artwork, especially considering that he is a professed atheist

The Martyrdom of St. Sebastian (1525), by Il Sodoma

Saint Sebastian, Exquisite Pain (2007)

In pondering this question, we should consider the possibility of Hirst’s Catholic imagination. The Catholic imagination, as theologian David Tracy describes it, allows us to find God’s presence in profane things, because all of creation participates in and is sustained by God’s gift. At first glance, it might seem that Hirst’s work is devoid of any Catholic imagination. His piece Trinity – Pharmacology, Physiology, Pathology, for example, depicts a “trinity” of three very carnal and material elements. It is firmly grounded in the world and lacking in anything spiritual.

Trinity – Pharmacology, Physiology, Pathology (2000)

Yet Hirst has also indicated that his artwork is informed, to some degree, by spiritual themes. He said in an interview that art and science are both lacking in spirituality, and that all three need to work with each other. At the very least, he indicates the possibility of a dialogue between faith and reason. And some of his other works point toward a spiritual sense. Consider, for example, this fascinating piece called The Incomplete Truth.

The Incomplete Truth (2006)

Prof. Fritz concluded his presentation with a discussion about the possible spiritual themes that could be present in Hirst’s artwork, as well as about the nature of art itself and its relation to faith.   

We sincerely thank Prof. Fritz for returning for another Theology by the Slice talk, and for all the work he put into this stimulating presentation.

*"Why is She Our Lady? Relating to Mary." Delivered on 4.10.13