The Legacy of Francis: A Tapestry, Not a Verdict

Pope Francis has been a fairly polarizing Papa. To some, he was the great reformer, the long-overdue breath of fresh air. To others he was a source of confusion and possibly scandal. Still others see him as heretical. Interestingly, he seems very appreciated by many non-Catholics and even some atheists. The reasons for this bear some scrutiny.

If we take seriously the Catholic claim that the Holy Spirit guides the selection of the pope, then the Francis papacy isn’t an accident, a mistake, or a left turn. Even if it’s a conspiracy of some sort, the joke is on the conspirators. They are part of the warp and weft. Specifically the weft. And while the finished tapestry is complete in the mind of its Maker, it’s still being woven in time by His creation. What is this tapestry? It is the tapestry of salvation history.

And you cannot judge a tapestry from 3 inches away.

You need distance and perspective and that comes with time.

Consider just one section of the tapestry covering the last 67 years or so.

We had the Vatican II popes, John XXIII and Paul VI, who (for better or for worse depending on who you ask) opened the windows to the modern world. Then John Paul II, whose long and muscular papacy reaffirmed the Church’s moral teaching and presence on the world stage. Then Benedict XVI, a razor-sharp theologian, often called “our German Shepherd”, who articulated and defended the intellectual coherence of the faith. Many believe he will one day be named a Doctor of the Church.1

Then came Francis.

The so-called "pastoral pope" has been praised for his emphasis on mercy, inclusion, and accompaniment. However, “pastoral” does not mean what most people seem to think it means. (And yes, I thought of Inigo Montoya when I wrote that.) It does not mean “anything goes because God is merciful.” To be pastoral is to be a shepherd. And what does a shepherd do with and for his flock? A shepherd provides care, guidance, and protection to the flock. In the case of the Pope, he tends souls.

Being pastoral, then, often means telling people the truth, which is to say, telling them things they don’t want to hear. Things they need to hear for their own good. It emphatically does not mean telling people what they want to hear in order to make them feel good, or attract them.

Francis was never a systematic theologian. I don’t think he was trying to be. He was a pastor, animated more by Who saves than by how it’s explained. However, once words escape your mouth into the wild, you have lost control of them.

Where Benedict was precision and continuity, Francis was just messy. He seemed determined to counter the media’s caricature of his predecessor: less clarity, more embrace; less “thou shalt not,” more “love thy neighbor.” Not intended as a message of laxity, but of presence. Still, his offhand remarks, his refusal to answer the Cardinals’ dubia, and his allergy to definitive teaching left many Catholics disoriented.

This disorientation of Catholics was seen as an opening by people both in and out of the Church, with people practically declaring that women priests and sacramental gay marriages were just around the corner. And while we’re at it, let’s throw in some transgender priests as well.

Benedict was so precise in his wording, seemingly so aware of the reality that every utterance was subject to malinterpretation (I may have just coined that phrase…) that his framing obstructed attempts to twist the meaning. Instead he had to be viewed as old, crusty, stale, dust of ages, out of touch, etc.

Francis was pretty much the opposite. Which may have been the point.

His writings, when read carefully, aren’t particularly controversial. In most cases, they restate or reapply established teaching, though often in less direct terms. The confusion has less to do with what he wrote and more to do with how people responded. That response speaks to a lacuna in Catholic formation. Many Catholics today are unsure how to read magisterial documents at all. And there is an over-reliance on a print and electronic media that values shallow engagement over and above serious conversation. Francis didn’t invent that problem.

It seems at times he was not aware of the problem. The fact that his messy explication is easily malinterpreted means that yes, he may have been attractive to confused and non-Catholics, and non-religious. But what happens when down the road those same people feel like they are the victims of a bait-and-switch campaign?

Well, there is opportunity there. Opportunity to engage with people who until now were simply uninterested. Opportunity to clarify and engage.

Seen this way, Francis isn’t a deviation from the arc of continuity. He’s part of it. Maybe the contrasting thread needed to highlight something the Holy Ghost wants seen. And what might that be? I think the immediate concern for those faithful in the Church is a recovery of grammar, rhetoric, and logic, taught in grade school and providing a degree of competent facility by completion of high school.

Can you imagine?

This training would permit proper engagement with, and understanding of, Church teaching about God, Creation, and Salvation. Proper catechesis. (Which maybe is why such learning has been deprecated.)

Pope Francis was not a heretic. For me he was extremely frustrating because he was so messy. A proper reading of his output as pope does not lead to women priests and the like. But they are subject to rather easy malinterpretation, so the Church has some ‘splaining to do. But, he did function as a conversation starter, and that presents an opportunity.

The tapestry of Pope Francis’s legacy will not be finished for some decades. When it is completed, a hundred years or more from now, we may find that humanity has benefited from bringing clarity to his presentation of what a universal church could look like in practice.

Let’s give it time.

Every year around this time, the “Easter is just a repurposed pagan ritual” claim comes hopping down the bunny trail: smug social media posts, YouTube explainers with ominous music, and confident declarations that Christianity just stole the spring equinox and rebranded it. But none of it holds up.

The idea doesn’t come from serious history or theology. It comes from a modern worldview that assumes ancient people were too dumb to mean what they said, and that Christianity must have borrowed its deepest truths from more “natural” religions. In truth, the “pagan Easter” trope says more about postmodern cynicism than it does about early Christianity.

Refuting the "Pagan Easter" Myth

1. Etymology Doesn’t Equal Theology

• The English word “Easter” may trace back to Eostre, a speculative Germanic goddess referenced once by Bede, or it may derive from the Old High German word ōstar, meaning “east,” i.e., the direction of the rising sun. Either way, this tells us precisely nothing about the theological content of the feast.

• In nearly every other language, Easter is called a variant of Pascha, from the Hebrew Pesach (Passover). Greek, Latin, Spanish, French, Italian, Arabic; all of them refer to Christ’s Passion and Resurrection through the lens of Passover. Only English and German are linguistic outliers.

• To claim Easter is pagan because of the English word is like arguing Christianity must be Viking in origin because we say “Thursday (Thor’s Day).” It’s linguistic imperialism disguised as skepticism.

2. Spring Festivals Are Solar, Not Lunar

• Ancient pagan festivals: Ostara, Beltane, and Saturnalia track the solar calendar, tied to equinoxes, solstices, and the agricultural cycle.

• Easter is set using a lunisolar method: it follows Passover, which is anchored to spring but dated using lunar cycles. Easter is the first Sunday after the first full moon after the vernal equinox. In other words, it’s not about moon worship. It’s about calibrating liturgical time to salvation history.

• Lunar calendars, like the Islamic and Jewish ones, track months, not seasons. The moon gives you tides and fasting cycles, but not spring. Pagan spring festivals were tied to solar timing, not lunar. Easter’s date tracks the moon because the Passion occurred at Passover, not because the moon was being honored.

3. Fertility Symbols Don’t Define Theology

• Yes, bunnies and eggs were pre-Christian symbols of fertility. That tells us nothing about the Resurrection of the Christ.

• American consumerism has been far more influential in merging plastic baskets, chocolate rabbits, and Hallmark kitsch with Easter than any druid or Norse farmer ever was.

• Oh, and if you’re mad about toys, candy, and pastel grass, blame the current crop of consumerist pagans. That’s never been part of Easter, nor of any other spring ritual.

4. Christianity Didn’t “Borrow” Anything

• The early Church didn’t need to pilfer fertility rites to establish a calendar. It already had one: the Jewish liturgical year.

• Christ’s Passion occurred during Passover. His death is the new Exodus, His blood the new covenant, His Resurrection the final deliverance. There is no analog for this in any pagan spring rituals.1

• Easter was celebrated by Christians before most Germanic tribes had even heard the Gospel, let alone offered a rabbit to Eostre.

Ok, So What Is Easter About?

Easter is not about nature’s rebirth or the changing of seasons. It’s about the Resurrection of Jesus Christ: a definitive, historical event that changed the cosmos. The Resurrection is not a metaphor. It is the hinge upon which all of Christian belief turns. Without it, as St. Paul says, our faith is in vain.

Through the Resurrection, Christ conquers death and reveals the triumph of divine mercy and opens the door to eternal life. That promise is extended to us in the Sacraments of Initiation: Baptism, Confirmation, and the Eucharist, which join us to His death and resurrection.

The Sacraments of Healing: Reconciliation and Anointing of the Sick, restore and strengthen us along the way. The Sacraments of Service: Holy Orders and Matrimony, bind us to the life of the Church and the mission of love that flows from the Cross.

This is the framework by which we live out the Resurrection: not a recycled myth, but the living reality of a new creation.

Theological Armory (GLOB)—I propose to present Theophany across some diffuse genres. Theophany? Theophany.

The narrow technical definition of theophany is God appearing to man in a perceptible way, from theos (God) + phainein (to reveal/show). The Biblical example most might be familiar with is The Burning Bush from which I pulled the title of this article. Yes, I plagiarized God.

But I guess since I quoted my source, I am forgiven.

The burning bush was the Old Testament reading (Ex 3:1-8, 13-15) from the Third Sunday of Lent. I was thinking about theophany and whether or not we have any experience of that today. Clearly we don’t have a burning bush. But does Grace break through into our daily lives? I think one can find it almost everywhere if one is looking and open.

Everywhere?

I offer bits of art that moved me in specific ways, and the way they are connected. My premise is that while not specifically examples of God manifesting himself, they are examples of grace breaking through in some tangible way which we can feel, and which is open to intellectual affirmation of the source of the feelings.

ANIME

Isn’t Anime just a time-suck for adults with questionable tropes and things like “fan service” and essentially an immature indulgence? Well, yeah, that argument is easy to make. But I would like you to consider:

Your Lie In April.

Yes, this has all the staples of the genre, exaggerated emotional reactions, changes in drawing style to emphasize different scenes, etc. But, this explores a relationship between a gifted female violin player and a tortured piano prodigy who has lost the ability to play. I do not want to give away plot points in case you decide to watch this, but it is a complex psychological drama of an abused youth and what true love and healing can look like. And when I say true love, I mean true, all encompassing, deep, sacrificial love. This anime is a poetic meditation on grief, trauma, artistry, and the fragile beauty of connection. It’s ultimately beautiful.

It made me cry.

Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End

I have not yet finished this offering. But, it is a fascinating look at what happens after the adventure is over and the battle won. It literally starts at the end of some epic 10 year war against the Demon King. Frieren is an elf who while she can be killed is otherwise is immortal. The four heroes arrive in the capital city in time for a meteor shower that happens once every 50 years. She leaves her band of brothers, so to speak, a hero, a priest, and a dwarf, promising to return for the next meteor shower. On her return, they have all aged, and during her visit, Himmel the Hero dies a peaceful happy death of old age, a life well-lived.

This shocks her and she is suddenly confronted with the fact that she barely knows these people with whom she has shared such a pivotal adventure. From here, the story follows what might seem like an obvious arc, essentially telling the tale from her memories and her ongoing interactions with new companions. But, really, it is an exploration of friendships lost and honored, of growth and change, and a desire for connection. Importantly, she is a mage who helped defeat the Demon King, but she is a mage made for a time of peace.

The story moves from quiet reflection to pitched battle, from silliness to gravity, from the sublime to the ridiculous and back again.

Through it all, the anime asks, “What happens after the major battle and the war is won?” It is a good question and one that any Christian may also ask of themselves in this day and time. What does a good Christian do after The Resurrection? One answer to this question can be found in this quiet reflection on living a complete life. You may well ask, “What can some pagan cartoon possibly tell me about how I should live my life?”

Indeed.

The Extraordinary Attorney Woo

This is a live action Korean drama about an attorney who is a high functioning autistic. But instead of tired tropes of courtroom dominance, this offering is suffused with genuine wonder.

She has graduated from a prestigious university with the highest marks. But no law firm will hire her, until a past school mate of her father brings her on to her firm. There is quite the backstory going on and she is something of a pawn in other people’s chess games. But.

Like any show that genuinely connects with an audience, this show is about relationships. Father, daughter, friends at work, friends outside of work, bosses and subordinates, jealousy and growth. It is a story of perseverance, duty, and honor. But most of all Wonder.

She’s a walking paradox; intellectually brilliant, socially awkward, emotionally earnest, and profoundly human. The show doesn’t use her autism as a plot gimmick or tragic flaw. Instead, it invites us to see the world through her eyes, where every whale, every case, and every awkward interaction is filled with underlying meaning.

It’s refreshingly non-cynical, which is rare. Yet, it’s not naive. It faces real issues such as disability stigma, workplace politics, family wounds, and class divides, with a clear eye and a warm heart. I am trying and failing to think of a Western show that manages this without substituting snarky insults and the forced cheap laugh or dramatic eruption. Much of today’s western TV is unsatisfying, to me at least, due to lack of depth of writing for fear that the stupid audience will miss the point.

Something approaching magical happens in the company’s cafeteria. Please watch the clip.

Watch her friend, on the left. Watch her face. She is truly moved by this revelation of what Attorney Woo thinks of her.

This show, if you will let it, gives life to quiet feelings that you may have had, but have had trouble expressing. It’s about connection, its about the possibility of communion.

The Alchemy of Souls

On the surface, it looks like a fantasy epic with flashy martial arts, political intrigue, and enough magic to choke a dragon. All the things that make The Puppycat (my wife) sigh and leave the room.

But beneath all the spellcasting and body-swapping, it’s about something far deeper: identity, memory, and what makes love endure when the person you love is no longer quite the same.

It asks questions like:

• If your soul is trapped in another body, are you still “you”?

• Can love survive when even memory gets rewritten?

• And what does it mean to choose someone, and remain constant in that choice no matter what. Quite literally, no matter what.

There’s real heartbreak in this show. Not just from the usual tragic backstories, but from the existential dislocation the characters face. It’s romantic, yes, but it’s also metaphysical. It dares to ask what parts of the self are essential, and what can be let go. The love story is woven with sacrifice, restraint, and a constant battle between desire and duty.

But what got me was the constancy.

Next week, Part 2.

SUBSTACK NATION (GLOB)—A man named Stephen Kent asked a question in that part of the Substack App where random stuff just shows up (you know the section in the menu bar that looks like Home Plate on a baseball diamond), and it forced art out of me. Well, an attempt anyway.

Stephen invited anyone to help him understand how Tolkien helped bring C.S. Lewis back to Christianity with the assertion that Christianity “fulfilled” much of pagan mythology. And that pagan myth was a precursor pointing to Christ.

It would help to understand how Tolkien viewed myth, and I think it fair to say that the writings of GK Chesterton were also an influence. Here is Tolkien on myth:

1. "On Fairy-Stories" (1939)

“The peculiar quality of 'joy' in successful Fantasy can thus be explained as a sudden glimpse of the underlying reality or truth.”

"The eucatastrophe of the story, the sudden joyous turn, does not deny the existence of sorrow and failure: the possibility of these is necessary to the joy of deliverance."

2. Letter to Milton Waldman (1951)

"I believe that legends and myths are largely made of ‘truth,’ and indeed present aspects of it that can only be received in this mode."

• This reflects the thought of Thomas Aquinas that “Whatever is received in something is in it according to the mode of the receiver, and not according to the mode of the giver.” This means, in effect, that if I want to send you a message, I need to send it to the radio station you are listening to. If you are on 910 AM and I am broadcasting on 93.3 FM, I should not be surprised that you don’t get my message. There is something in us that appreciates Story, and is well disposed to receiving information in this manner.

3. The "Mythopoeia" Poem (c. 1931)

• This poem, written for C.S. Lewis, challenges the idea that myths are "lies breathed through silver."

“He sees no stars who does not see them first
of living silver made that sudden burst
to flame like flowers beneath an ancient song,
whose very echo after-music long
has since pursued.”

4. Tolkien and Lewis’s "Great Conversation" (c. 1931)

• Tolkien likened myth to glimpses of the true myth, which he saw as fulfilled in Christianity.

5. Letter to his son Christopher (1944)

• In a wartime letter, Tolkien wrote:

"We have come from God, and inevitably the myths woven by us, though they contain error, will also reflect a splintered fragment of the true light, the eternal truth that is with God."

Elsewhere, Tolkien suggests that all the great myths involved great loss, and triumph over evil. For him, the echo of these in the story of Christ was clear.

Tolkien wasn’t the only one who saw this. Decades before, Chesterton had already laid the groundwork for this way of seeing myth.

From Orthodoxy (1908)

1. “Fairy tales do not tell children the dragons exist. Children already know that dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children that dragons can be killed.”

2. “My first and last philosophy, that which I believe in with unbroken certainty, I learned in the nursery... The things I believed most then, the things I believe most now, are the things called fairy tales.”

3. “The test of all happiness is gratitude.”

From The Everlasting Man (1925)

4. “Paganism was the biggest thing in the world, and Christianity was bigger and came to meet it. The Church is bigger than the world.”

5. “There is something personal in the world, as in a work of art; whatever it means it means violently.”

From Tremendous Trifles (1909)

6. “The whole difference between construction and creation is exactly this: that a thing constructed can only be loved after it is constructed; but a thing created is loved before it exists.”

From The Man Who Was Thursday (1908)

7. “We are on the wrong side of the tapestry.”

   ---

What I get from all this is that the pagan myths, wild stories that they may be, have had staying power and are regularly revisited in one way or another. One may think we have moved past myth, but then how does one explain the explosive success of all the super hero movies; what are they but riffs on the gods and goddesses, myths and legends of pagan origin?

The contention of Tolkien and Chesterton is that these myths are echoes of a deeper truth, something woven into the fabric of our being, the tapestry of existence, if you will. We all feel it, don’t we? That sense of loss, of something missing, of things being broken in some deep way that cries out, nay demands mending. The yearning for justice and mercy. These myths are glimpses of the True Story, the one that finds its fulfillment, not in legend, not in super hero movies, but in Christ.

Tolkien helped Lewis see that myths weren’t just stories—they were shadows of something real. And when Lewis followed those shadows to their source, he found Christ.

The Man

The man who would become Bishop of Ireland lived in the 5th Century, and March 17th is the date of his death as near as anyone can figure. Exactly what his date of birth and death are is not really known with dates ranging from 385 to 392. We are not sure where he was even born. Some sources say Britain, others Scotland.

What is known is that at the age of 16 he was kidnapped by Irish Pirates and hauled from Britain to Ireland and sold as a slave. He lived as a slave for 6 years. According to The Confession of St. Patrick he was not particularly fervent in his faith as a youth, but slavery seems to have focused him toward God.

1
My name is Patrick. I am a sinner, a simple country person, and the least of all believers. I am looked down upon by many. My father was Calpornius. He was a deacon; his father was Potitus, a priest, who lived at Bannavem Taburniae^[Nota]. His home was near there, and that is where I was taken prisoner. I was about sixteen at the time. At that time, I did not know the true God. I was taken into captivity in Ireland, along with thousands of others. We deserved this, because we had gone away from God, and did not keep his commandments. We would not listen to our priests, who advised us about how we could be saved^[Nota]. The Lord brought his strong anger upon us, and scattered us among many nations even to the ends of the earth. It was among foreigners that it was seen how little I was.

2
It was there that the Lord opened up my awareness of my lack of faith. Even though it came about late, I recognised my failings. So I turned with all my heart to the Lord my God^[Nota], and he looked down on my lowliness^[Nota] and had mercy on my youthful ignorance. He guarded me before I knew him, and before I came to wisdom and could distinguish between good and evil. He protected me and consoled me as a father does for his son.

From his Confessio

Patrick escaped back to England following the prompting of a dream.

17
It was there one night in my sleep that I heard a voice saying to me: “You have fasted well. Very soon you will return to your native country.” Again after a short while, I heard a someone saying to me: “Look – your ship is ready.” It was not nearby, but a good two hundred miles away. I had never been to the place, nor did I know anyone there. So I ran away then, and left the man with whom I had been for six years. It was in the strength of God that I went – God who turned the direction of my life to good; I feared nothing while I was on the journey to that ship.

ibid

Eventually after a series of rather mystical events and more dreams, he determined to return to Ireland. Over the next few years, he studied and became a deacon and then a priest. At some point between 431 and 432 he was consecrated Bishop of Ireland by Pope Celestine and arrived in Slane on March 24, 432.

St. Patrick traveled far and wide, baptizing and confirming and it seems building churches as well. His mission lasted several years and he converted thousands of Irish.

His date of death ranges from 461 to 493. I did find a source that mentioned his mission in Ireland lasted nearly 40 years - which supports the later date of death.

The Myth

Probably the most well-known myth is that of him driving the snakes from Ireland and into the sea.

That and the one about the Shamrock and the Trinity, which is pretty bad theology. Oh, and it didn’t happen either.

The Legend

Well, I think I already covered all that. Unless someone wants to hear about why I say the idea of a Shamrock being a good way to explain the Trinity is a really bad way. Can you say “Modalism” or “Partialism”?

Also, he is not the patron saint of alcoholics. That would be St. Matthias, who replaced Judas. But that’s another story.

Have A Guinness!!

CARROLLTON, TX - Cradle of Civilization (GLOB)—What do you do if you have a pig that knows that it is a pig, and knows that it knows that it is a pig?

Most people would never ask this question. My theology professor did.

We all thought it was a joke at first. The professor’s answer, blunt, immediate, and entirely unbothered, was: "Baptize it."

And just like that, the joke wasn’t a joke anymore.

Because suddenly, it wasn’t just about a pig. It was confusing. My mind lit up with things I hadn’t thought about in years; ideas that had never seemed connected before were now crashing together. It was about free will. About Gödel’s incompleteness theorem and whether reason itself can be contained. About Penrose and the idea that minds might be non-computational. About the universe as something sacramental: a reality that reflects grace and points beyond itself.

It was all a bit much. It took a while for that part of my brain that just kind of runs in the background to sort it all out. Thankfully, as a 9th Level Adept in The Hermetic Order Of The Ruminantia, I was equal to the task of serious rumination.

The Pig That Thinks About Thinking

Gödel’s incompleteness theorem is one of those brain-breaking truths of mathematics: any sufficiently powerful formal system must contain statements that are true but unprovable within the system. If you try to make the system complete, it collapses into contradictions.

That’s math’s way of saying, “You can’t prove everything from inside the box.”

Now, apply that to the human mind.

• If human reasoning were purely mechanical—just neurons firing in deterministic patterns—then it should be a closed system, bound by fixed rules.

• But we seem to be able to recognize truths that cannot be formally derived from within the system of our own reasoning.

• We can step outside the system and reflect on it.

And so can our pig.

Because the moment a being doesn’t just know something, but knows that it knows, it has entered the realm of self-reference, which is exactly what formal systems struggle with. A computer follows rules; it doesn’t think about thinking. A pig that knows it’s a pig and knows that it knows is doing something a machine cannot do.

And that brings us to the real question: What do you do with that pig?

The Free Will Problem

If self-awareness lets you step outside the system, does that mean you are more than a deterministic machine?

Because if you were purely deterministic, your future thoughts would be predetermined. But could you, from within the system, fully predict them?

The moment you try, the awareness of that prediction becomes part of your cognition, altering its trajectory.

This is the paradox:

• A system (you) tries to contain all truths about itself.

• But the act of knowing that you know introduces something outside the system.

• Meaning your mind is not a closed formal system; it behaves in ways that exceed strict mechanistic determinism.

Penrose argues that minds might be fundamentally non-computational, that consciousness is doing something beyond algorithmic processing. If he’s right, then maybe our ability to recognize paradox, contradiction, and incompleteness isn’t just a side effect of intelligence. It’s a sign that we aren’t machines at all.

And if self-awareness is the distinguishing mark of a rational soul, then the pig, our self-aware, contemplative pig, might be more than just an animal.

So, again: What do you do with that pig?

Does the Pig Have to Ask?

Of course, there’s a theological wrinkle.

In Catholicism, we baptize infants because their parents act on their behalf, just like they don’t hand them a beer bottle and say, “figure it out.” But some Christian traditions insist that baptism must be requested by a rational individual.

Which raises an even stranger question: Does the pig have to ask?

If we require rational consent, then free will is a deciding factor in salvation.

But if a pig is rational enough to recognize its own existence, shouldn’t that be enough?

And if we baptize babies who don’t understand baptism, why not a self-aware pig that may not fully grasp it either?

I don’t have the answers here. The question isn’t just theological; it’s a test of how serious we are about what rationality means. But if knowing that you know is the bar for reason, and if reason signals a rational soul and personhood before God, then we have to consider what that means for baptism.

That pig might be more qualified than most.

Baptize the Pig

When I asked my theology professor what to do with this existentially aware pig, he didn’t miss a beat.

"Baptize it."

Why?

Because if something possesses self-awareness (the ability to recognize its own being), then it has stepped into the realm of rational creatures. And if it has a rational soul, then according to Catholic thought, it is made for God.

It’s a brilliant answer, because it takes what sounds like a joke and lands it in the deepest possible waters: the very question of what makes us more than just biological machines, more than just animals.

Because if knowing that you know is what separates the rational creature from the irrational creature…

…and if a pig crosses that line…

Then we have to ask something else entirely:

Does rationality mean it has a rational soul?

If it does, then that means the pig is not just an animal; it’s something more.

And if it’s something more, is it a person before God? If it is, is it immortal? If it’s immortal, does it need salvation? And if it needs salvation…

Well.

So, baptize it.

After all, if a pig can ask what it means to be a pig, it’s already more self-aware than half the people on Twitter.

Final Thoughts: Truth and the Wooden T

Gödel showed us that no system can prove everything within itself. Truth, with a capital T, exists beyond provability.

A deterministic machine shouldn’t be able to step outside its own system. But if self-awareness lets us do just that, then maybe we aren’t deterministic machines after all.

And if the ultimate question is not just knowing truth but recognizing it as a Person, then the end of self-awareness is not just philosophy, but faith.

Truth, after all, has already aligned itself with someone hanging on a wooden T.

So, if a pig trots up to you and asks to be baptized, well, maybe grab some water, find a priest… save the pig.

THOOTR: A Formal Case Study in Rumination

Frater Bovious is a 9th Level Adept in The Hermetic Order Of The Ruminantia, about which nothing more may be said.

Well, except this: You may consider this article a case study of someone following The Four-Chambered Path to enlightenment.

How’s that, you say?

Some truths come in a flash. Others must be chewed on for years, turned over again and again, examined from every angle, before they finally settle.

And this one?

Significant time passed between that question from my theology professor and this post.

So, consider this a formal case study from The Hermetic Order of the Ruminantia—an exploration of the Four-Chambered Path in action:

• Ingest – A single question: What do you do with a self-aware pig?

• Ruminate – Ten years of contemplation, turning it over, letting the paradoxes clash.

• Digest – Gödel, free will, theology, sacramentality—all finally coming together.

• Disseminate – And now, at last, shared with you.

You are welcome.

If you enjoyed this article, you could buy me a cigar! Just click below.

Wishing everyone some peace, joy, connection, meaning, and meaningful relationships. Talk to a friend you haven’t seen in a while. Make up with a family member. Go see your kids or parents. Or both. Have hope. Merry Christmas to all.

I will briefly summarize, but encourage you to read the article. Maïti Girtanner was a promising pianist with a future ahead of her when WWII hit. She became a part of the French resistance. She would give piano lessons or play at parties while gathering intelligence for the resistance. She was caught and tortured by a Nazi doctor. As a result of extreme torture she was left with nerve damage that left her perpetually in pain, unable to play the piano, and in addition the torture rendered her unable to have children.

Her life was destroyed.

For decades after her rescue she suffered from the psychological affects of her torture, not the least of which was a strong desire for the death of her torturer. However, she wanted to move beyond.

“I shan’t make a tragedy of my life.”

From the article: “On another level she was aware that she faced a choice: living a life of on going bitter hatred against the man who had left her disabled or to choose to forgive him. She had begun to understand that forgiveness could never be just an intellectual idea; instead, it had to be something that was directed toward someone.”

In 1984, her torturer reached out to her and wanted to meet. He wanted to know if she still believed what she had held on to while he was torturing her. Did she believe in God and Heaven?

When they met he begged forgiveness. She forgave him. Later she would say, “I embraced him to drop him into the heart of God,” and still later, “Forgiving him liberated me.”

In 1948 she had became a Lay Dominican, called at that time a Third Order Dominican. Being a Lay Dominican allows a lay person to live out Dominican spirituality while remaining in the secular world. Her faith drew her to this spirituality and helped her to find solace and meaning in the aftermath of her torture.

She wrote a statement that struck me as important and insightful, and maybe the more authentic because of all she had experienced.

“Forgiveness does not come about in the abstract; it calls for someone to whom it can be addressed, someone to whom it can be received.”

As a Catholic and fellow Lay Dominican, this struck me as a very nice insight into the power and efficacy of the Sacrament of Reconciliation vs the idea of, "just take it to Jesus, why do you need a priest?"

Keeping in mind that the Greek word for soul is psyche, and that the soul is defined as the animating principle, I wish to elaborate a bit on psychology and what happens when an organization has a profound understanding of this meaning of psyche.

Psychology then is the study of the soul, the animating principle, that which separates us from inanimate objects. As a quick aside, this would mean that all animals and plants, any living thing, has a soul. Over the years, the term has shifted focus to mental activity, which is a specific subset of properties of some living things, and probably unique to animals vs plant and mushrooms. There are not, for example, pine tree psychologists. But there are tree doctors. Living things all can use some healing.

I once heard that you will eventually confess your sins to someone, be it a trusted friend, your bartender, your therapist, or yes, your priest. This is the soul reaching out, trying to make things right.

However, your friend, bartender and therapist cannot look at you and say,

"God, the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of His Son, has reconciled the world to Himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen."

Note the formula. “May God give you pardon and peace.” And, “I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” And finally, “Amen.” (empahsis mine)

The translation of this Hebrew word, “Amen” that I like best is, "May it be so according to God’s will."

I hope that it is clear that the priest is not the one forgiving the person in the confessional. But we have psychological needs. When we tells someone a deep dark secret, we want to hear in return, “It’s ok.” You can get that from your friend, your bartender, your therapist. But, “It’s ok” doesn’t last. You may find yourself telling someone else the same things. Because, unless the person you are talking to is the one you have harmed, something is missing. Rather, someone is missing.

When we have sinned, and we “take it to the priest” we are taking it to Jesus.

The priest is providing that personal link, he is standing in for Christ. We need that visceral sensory experience of saying out loud what we have done wrong, asking out loud for forgiveness, and hearing, actually hearing with our own ears, tangible words of absolution.

Having been on the receiving end of this absolution formula, I can attest to the salutary psychological benefit that I receive when I hear those words.

As this poor torture victim notes, “Forgiveness does not come about in the abstract; it calls for someone to whom it can be addressed, someone to whom it can be received.”

Reconciliation can only happen between two parties, the aggrieved and the aggriever. This is a psychological reality. Unless the person you are telling your deep dark secret to is the person you have harmed, you cannot experience reconciliation by telling your friend, bartender, or therapist. You can with God.

An armory is an important part of a military's assets, since it stores arms and equipment and is also sometimes the place where soldiers are trained to use them.

The Theological Armory is an important part of a theologian’s assets, since it stores arms (books on philosophy and theology) and equipment (whiskey and cigars, comfortable chairs) and is a place where theologians are trained to use the tools of their trade.

It is a place for study and contemplation, for gatherings and discussions, for arguments and agreements. Yes, and prayer. A place where reason is exercised and made healthy. Where the intellect is nourished. Where formidable thinkers of the past are met, and ideas are weighed and measured, and yes, judged.

And, perhaps most importantly, it is a place for forging authentic friendships.

Aquinas said that

“There is nothing on this earth more to be prized than true friendship,”

Aristotle said that there are three types of friendships:

1. Friendship based on utility

2. Friendship based on pleasure or delight

3. Friendship grounded in virtue

The first two are ephemeral. Based as they are on a selfish foundation, they will fade. Regarding the third, Aristotle notes in the Nicomachean Ethics,

But the perfect kind of friendship is that of good men who resemble one another in virtue. For they both alike wish well to one another as good men, and it is their essential character to be good men. And those who wish well to their friends for the friends’ sake are friends in the truest sense; for they have these sentiments towards each other as being what they are, and not in an accidental way: their friendship, therefore, lasts as long as their virtue, and that is a lasting thing.

I’ve heard it also described as two friends seeking Truth together.

Philosophy is the preamble to faith, and so, much of the training equipment is philosophical. We all have a philosophy, though many do not think they do. But it is necessary.

The word philosophy means the love of wisdom. All of us are born with this love. We all began asking “Why?” as soon as we became aware of the term and its meaning. As Plato said, “Philosophy begins in wonder.”

The desire to understand is integral to the dignity that makes us human.

Philosophy then becomes the framework within which we understand and interact with the universe and everything and everyone in it. Many deliberately hone their philosophical skills. Others simply rumble through a bland and faded life listless and short of wonder. We should choose our philosophies wisely, otherwise we are not much more than a NPC in the game of life.

Philosophy is an end in itself, for the acquisition of knowledge and understanding is a Good. But it is also one of the means to the end of knowing God. It is the means to have a grounded understanding of faith, which is also a framework for understanding. And you should choose your frameworks wisely.

If you believe in a Supreme Being, then you will want your own Theological Armory. If you don’t, then have one for the philosophical end of being a better human. The whiskey and cigars are optional, but they do provide an amiable environment conducive to long and pleasant conversations.

This began as a post about the Big Smoke and was redirected. For the Big Smoke was not really about cigars. It was about friendship. Now that this has been explained I will follow up with the review of the 2nd day of the Big Smoke.

In case you can't read the tiny print:

Philosophy is questions that may never be answered.

Religion is answers that may never be questioned.

There is in Philosophy a technical term for this type of juvenile attempt at a clever juxtaposition: Bullshit.

This was clearly written by someone with no familiarity with either philosophy or religion. But then of course, religion is a term misused and misunderstood. It usually refers to "organized" religion, meaning a hierarchical structure that keeps their ignorant flock in check with threats and magic incantations.

Religion actually originally meant that which binds together, which is why I frequently contend that the pre-game activity of tailgating at football games is a religious event. People are wearing their Sunday best jerseys, they tell stories of past glories, they anticipate going to the promised bowl, they share a meal...

But, I digress.

Philosophy does not ask questions without answers, it asks questions that cause you to examine how you think and what and why you believe what you believe. And there are answers. Socrates is reported as saying, "The unexamined life is not worth living."

I will add this corollary: "The unexamined religion is not worth following."

Now, that's a strong statement that many will wonder at. So, I'll double down and say, "If your religion is based on truth and reality, it will stand up to scrutiny."

Have fun with that!