Showing posts with label Cardinal Avery Dulles S.J.. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cardinal Avery Dulles S.J.. Show all posts

Friday, September 10, 2021

Occam’s Razor of Emotional Discernment

Novacula Occami










Asking another question of Occam’s Razor


In the process of doing his own spiritual work, my friend Daniel Shurman carefully teased out another layer in my understanding of Saint Ignatius’s Discernment of the Spirits by insisting on a dimension that is perhaps overlooked--seeking the Truth. 


When we studied scholastic philosophy, our Jesuit masters teased our intellects with an absurd question posed by Thomas Aquinas, “How many angels can dance on the head of a pin?” It’s a question ad absurdum because it was designed to demonstrate that the time and space between heaven and earth cannot be measured no matter how hard you try.


Daniel tossed out the rigid philosophical reduction, and in its place created a generous space for the spiritual dimension of joyfully watching The Dance of Angels. 


Here’s how he did it. Daniel loves an elegant solution, and this pointed me back to William of Ockham’s Law of Parsimony.1 Occam’s Latin is of course succinct and worthy of a renowned philosopher: Numquam ponenda est pluralitas sine necessitate, which translates as "Plurality ought never be posited without necessity.” Precise but also misleadingthe word “parsimony” throws truth into a dustbin for the stingy. I prefer a more generous interpretation. Let’s try this: “The simplest, most beautiful solution is probably true.” A logical problem arises because non sunt multiplicanda entia sine necessitate cannot be a tight fisted rule. Sometimes there is more than one reason or argument. Still a more elegant line of argument points to the truth. It also gives angels the freedom to dance.


Ockham actually gives us a tool rather than an ironclad rule; its metal is called “Occam’s Razor.” It shapes a proposition: whittle away the random thoughts; pare down your idea, the plan, the problem by shaving off unnecessary words, feelings, resentments, withholds, and you get closer to the truth of the matter. Wittgenstein said: "If a sign is not necessary then it is meaningless. That is the meaning of Occam's Razor" (Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus: 3.328).


While stuffy old Aquinas was puzzling over his absurd question about the quantity of angels,  Daniel invited Steve Jobs, along with Ockham, to observe the angels dance. Daniel and Steve zoomed out to watch a multitude of angels dance on the razor’s edge, and make connections. Then Daniel with his relentless and unflinching honesty zoomed in to observe the single angel pointing to a solution or, at least, marvel at the graceful lead dancer in the choreography. (And I’ve watched him dance with one very beautiful angel. He is masterful).


I was alerted to the emotional ambiguity of the discernment process by the renowned Jesuit Cardinal, Avery Dulles. In one of our last meetings, he held up the small volume of the Spiritual Exercises, and said, this is a book to be used, not just read. Then he said that there was a tendency to assign the simplest of feelings to the weighing of what Ignatius called “consolation and desolation” which tended to reduce it to a kind of “feel good” spirituality. He confessed that he was more inclined to be directed by reason than feelings, but still he thought that Ignatius’s recommendation of inclining towards the solution of what feels best pointed to perhaps something far deeper than one that just feels good in the moment.


Like Jobs who would “zoom out to connect the dots, then zoom in and simplify,”2 and Ockham who used a process of simplification as a rigorous arbiter between candidate models, Daniel examined the panorama of his own feelings to see a clear line that led to an elegant solution. 


Daniel reminded me in the most beautiful way that if we bring all of ourselves into the process of discernment, with patience, compassion and rigor, we true up our course of action.


 "Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all

  Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know."3


____________________



1The Law of Parsimony is attributed to William of Ockham. And perhaps here he’s Plato to the genius of many schoolmen which is why I dragged Aquinas into the battle.


2“Steve would zoom out to connect the dots, then zoom in and simplify.” [John Sculley’s quote].


3 From “Ode on a Grecian Urn” By JOHN KEATS.


I’ve used William of Occam’s principle to discuss the use of condoms to combat HIV/AIDS in Africa in my blog Buddha S.J.


Monday, July 12, 2021

Don't Ask, Don't Tell—A Jesuit Strategy

Originally posted January 6th, 2008; revised July 12th, 2021


A Catholic friend who is also gay asked me how I felt about pedophile Jesuits having their despicable histories show up in the news, and the courts. After cleaning up the common confusion between pedophilia and homosexuality—it’s imperative to keep them separate even when they overlap as in the clergy scandal—I began reflecting on my own history, other gay men I knew in religious life, my experience living with my vows as a Jesuit, and my decision to leave.

I recalled two conversations I had with Avery Dulles. Avery was my friend, mentor and spiritual director. He knew my life; he’d met my parents and my friends; he tolerated my leftwing political views. His questions about my interests, my reading habits, even the issues I had working with certain professors were always insightful and never judgmental. He also knew about my struggle with my sexuality. His advice in each and every case if I asked for it, and sometimes when I didn’t, was clear and even-handed. He never let me down. I really mean never.

One afternoon in the Spring of 1973, Avery and I were walking together up Riverside Drive towards 120th and the classrooms Woodstock used at Union Theological. He asked me about a panel I was organizing about a Christian response to the Stonewall Riots in '69, only 4 years earlier. I’ve lost the particulars of the conversation, but what remains clear about that bright afternoon—he was not hesitant to link my personal struggle with Stonewall, and he let me know that if I wanted to live a productive and fulfilling life as a Jesuit and a gay man, it was entirely possible, and I could count on his support. But that to make it work, I would have to live as a fully committed Jesuit, including celibacy. My memory is of a man so human, so compassionate, and a true friend. He was also the only faculty to attend the panel discussion I organized.

After I'd left the Jesuits, we still maintained our friendship. Our last visit was in 2001, just when Pope John Paul made him a Cardinal. Driving him back to his room at Santa Clara University after a dinner organized by a mutual friend, I asked what he thought about the erupting sexual scandals that were beginning to rock the very foundations of the church.

He said that his first response was profound embarrassment—men with whom we both shared the ideals of Ignatius took advantage of their position as priests to prey on teenage boys and young adults. But then he hesitated. He said that the word embarrassed is not exactly right—he said “profoundly disappointed” might be closer. He was embarrassed for the institutional church he loved and supported, but, like me, was personally disappointed in the men with whom he thought he shared some altruistic spirit. In retrospect I think that ``disappointed” was still a euphemism. He felt betrayed.

I too have experienced the power of the Spiritual Exercises, and felt the enthusiasm and vision of Ignatius who was a religious genius. I was naive enough to believe that every priest, every Jesuit, would not sexually abuse another human, and I also believed that I had enough experience with human nature to recognize the shadowy demons that most every human has. What I learned was that not every priest is an idealist, and my experience of human nature was limited.

I felt I shared that deep feeling with so many Jesuits I admired, Arrupe, Berrigan, Chardin, Colombiere, Drinan, Faber, Nobili, Ricci, la Salle, to name just a few famous ones, but many others, ordinary men who lead prayerful, inspired lives for a few years or a lifetime, Charlie, Joe, Thom, Joep, Kaiser, TJC, Morgan, Neal, Bob, Jan, Freddie, Ray and many more. These men were and continue to be interested in dedicating their lives to help others. They are still my heroes.

But my friend’s question was not theoretical. Two Jesuits who were in the novitiate with me were credibly accused of molesting young men in their care. A man who was at one time a close friend took advantage of his position as a military chaplin to have sex with enlisted men and went to prison. Later when I was working at an AIDS-related non-profit, I knew another priest who was dismissed for having consentual sex with a young man just months before his 18th birthday.

My reaction was tremendous sorrow for those who placed their trust in a person they thought close to the teachings of Jesus, a conduit for God’s mercy and forgiveness, but were manipulated. This is not how the universe is supposed to work. This cannot be the world that Jesus has saved, or the Mystical Body that believers hold up as a beacon to the world.

There was still some piece of the puzzle missing. I could hardly believe that the pathology of pedophile priests wasn't checked. Was a bishop or religious superior not being responsible? The evidence seems to point in that direction.

I noticed that the institutional response in every diocese and religious order across the United States was always the same: stonewall all investigations and never admit guilt. There were of course plenty of apologies, especially from those whose behavior was the most egregious, Law and Mahony. As one commentator said, profound apologies are not an admission of wrongdoing. Airlines routinely issue profound apologies to families of those killed in a crash caused by mechanical failure or an "act of God," as the insurance companies’ liability claims quaintly phrase it. The game seemed to be protecting the assets and “good name” of the institution which precludes any admission of guilt. “Our lawyers will not allow us to comment any further. Thank you. Next question?”

The institutional response did not address anyone’s real concerns. When asked why he did not tell parishioners the reason he removed a priest who was arrested having sex with teenage boys in the back of a car, a Jesuit Provincial said: "Why should they [need to know]? This is an Internet cruising thing. This is anonymous sex. This doesn't involve people at the parish. It wasn't a priest thing. He wasn't dressed in a collar." No, he actually was in drag with lipstick and blush. Apparently the private life and professional conduct of a priest were now separate and distinct, something I had never learned in the 11 years that I trained to be a Jesuit. People under pressure say and do stupid things.

I never had any inappropriate contact with a minor during the time I was a Jesuit. It was simply unthinkable, even in a time when the freedoms felt after John XXIII’s aggiornamento were leading to all kinds of experimentation. It was unthinkable, and yet it happened.

I took my friend’s question as an opportunity to look again into the situation more deeply, and this time include an examination of my own responsibility as a gay man with a vow of celibacy, to see if I could find in myself something beyond embarrassment, disappointment, blame, or, yes, even relief.

My last years in the Jesuits were very difficult and painful for me. I wanted to be a Jesuit, but I found celibate life extremely difficult, and I intended to honor my solemn promises if I remained in the Society. I was in therapy dealing with my own self-sabotage, self-loathing, and unconscious homophobia—parts of myself that lagged behind my intellectual acceptance, but there was never any real doubt in my mind that being gay was totally OK, healthy and a perfectly acceptable way of living in the world.

It is an open secret that there are thousands of gay men throughout the Roman clergy, members of religious orders, and even the hierarchy. It is also no secret that the official position of the magisterium is that homosexuality is “disordered.” And the solution to this contradiction for most gay priests, even if they have never broken their vow of celibacy—Secrecy! You might talk about it with your partners, if you have any, perhaps your superiors, perhaps your confessor, but never go public. Or as I say in the header for this post: Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. That is the first commandment.

Never having been circumspect about my own opinions or process, I was very open within the Jesuit community when I was coming out. I broke the first commandment.

Perhaps John McNeill had the same experience. If he had not come out openly "as a Jesuit priest, as a moral theologian, as a psychotherapist, as a person who is himself gay, and as a human being," he might have able to maintain his comfortable psychotherapy practice on the Upper West Side. I cannot answer that question for John, and I do not know if he would agree. But this I do know, if I had not come out fully as a gay man, I would have missed out on being able to know and express some of the deepest emotions that a human being can feel. For me there never really was any choice, but that non-choice, for some very difficult reasons, was the hardest choice of my life.

Most gay priests do not have that opportunity. They are forced to obey a pact of complete silence, and the cult of secrecy starts right at the top.