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by Marcia Christoff-Kurapovna
The course of humankind was set: With The Book of Daniel, the belief in justice after death was introduced into Judaism. Philosophy and religion had finally matured to a point where these could "receive" Christianity. In order to understand this journey of the human imagination across civilizations and centuries, one must grasp how the utterly fascinating Hellenic invention of the “democratized” concept of moral judgment in the afterlife came into its beautiful philosophical maturity. Even then, one must start with the history of the notion of afterlife across several civilizations across several millennia to reach the starting point—the pre-Socratics—of this particular achievement of the Eternal Hellenic. It is this achievement which so brilliantly and mysteriously would bring the ceaseless speculation of the human mind together in one final resting place: the Logos—or “Reason”—of Christ. Starting from the Milesians and through to Daniel—Man had, at last, found his soul...
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by Aaron Ames
Today’s detachment of procreation from the concept of marriage contends that the kind of fruit that married life ought to be directed toward is nothing tangible. This kind of marriage has no need to produce anything beyond itself, anything that builds up or contributes to the whole of society. (The self-defeating nature of pleasure-driven utilitarian ethics is that it actually ends up producing nothing of significant quality.) In such a marriage, two chords might as well remain out of tune, even though they are playing right alongside one another. But procreation as a foundational element of marriage suggests that a genuinely ordered marriage is predicated on producing something more beautiful than the mere sum of its two parts, in the form of a third and synthesizing part: a child. Two chords played separately are still not as beautiful as two chords played together. Indeed, what they produce together is something new, something worthwhile, something beautiful. Marriage of this kind is now directed toward, not only the good of the family, but even towards the good of society-at-large, as children are a gift to the stability of both...
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by Bradley J. Birzer
In our time, so cynical and devoid of respect for the ancients, modern Americans might very well scoff at citing Socrates or Plato or Cicero to establish a definition of justice. Yet, Russell Kirk believed, because justice is rooted in nature and because in its perfection transcends all time and space, one can innately observe virtue in the actions of wise women and men. Such observation of our heroes and those we admire might be the best teacher in our current day, serving as reminders of what has always been true, but lost, forgotten, or mocked. As Kirk—and every conservative before and after—understood, “to give each person his due” is not to make all men one, but rather to acknowledge the unique gifts and talents bestowed upon every person by God. The only equality we share is equality of original sin. It is our excellence that makes us unique as humans, and, therefore, allows us to know what “to give each person.” For those we encourage in their gifts, we do so as justice, but with charity. For those who fail, we encourage with justice, but also in charity...
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by Patrick Whalen
Meaning and being are always inseparable for human consciousness. The inescapable human desire for classification—a desire Wallace Stevens himself called the “blessed rage for order”—marshals our experience of being into a concept of meaning. So for example there is an object one perceives which immediately creates the impetus to classify it. If we have trouble with the classification, we can’t help but turn back to the existing thing and try again. We call it a double-take. The charge of nihilism is rooted in Stevens’ resistance to taking the object of his perception at face value in a kind of ontological literalism. And perhaps there is some truth in the charge of nihilism that we could root in his rejection of the puritanical culture of his childhood, a culture that saw the figurative or the imaginative as unreliable at best, and possibly even a threat to the faith. But while the charges of nihilism do correspond with his refusal of literalism, Stevens was not prepared to believe in nothing. Rather, Stevens directed his belief toward the artifice of his imagination—something he would come to call his “supreme fiction”...
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of the Cherubim
by Jonathan Coe
We live east of Eden in a fallen world, and, in our quiet, honest moments, we have a “something’s missing” feeling and a longing for heaven or something like the perfection of Eden. The cherubim stand guard at the entrance of Eden and won’t let us back in. When misguided longings for heaven or Eden enter the public square, there is a utopian overreach that results in deleterious consequences in the political, economic, and social spheres of life. Utopian overreach results in dystopian outcomes. The cherubim could speak volumes in describing all the misguided efforts to sneak by them and enter the Garden. In America we need look no further than the public policies, often promulgated most zealously by paternalistic, white liberals, that have affected black America over the last five-plus decades. If we reject the wisdom of the cherubim, we are destined to experience the frustration of Sisyphus: Because of our hubris, we keep pushing the utopian boulder up the public policy hill only to have it roll back down on top of us ad infinitum...
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