Latest news with #SaintAugustine
The Guardian
26-05-2025
- Automotive
- The Guardian
My petty gripe: I graciously let your car in, now where's my bloody thank you wave?
I'm the best driver I know, whatever my driving record might say. I don't hog the right lane. I never tailgate. And I usually let people in ahead of me if they need to change lanes or enter traffic. So why does it infuriate me so much when they don't give a little thank you wave? I don't expect a medal. Nowhere else do I expect thanks for common courtesy. But not seeing that little wave on the road makes me see red. I may not scream, but I will swear, fulminate about selfish, thoughtless, ungracious idiots and rail against the end of civil society. It's not like I'd follow the offender to demand thanks. I'm already likely running late for wherever I have to be, and whoever thanked an angry person demanding gratitude? More likely the opposite. But still, is it really that hard to flick your hand up in thanks? I know it's ridiculously trivial. So many religions remind us that the best charity doesn't seek acknowledgment. The great rabbi Maimonedes ranked different kinds of giving, with giving when neither person knows the other's identity up the top. As Saint Augustine wisely counselled, resentment is a cup of poison you drink while waiting for the other person to die. That person speeding away is already oblivious. My anger is pointless. I know I don't have to let anyone in. Perhaps driving more selfishly would save me the grief of being so enraged, especially as it's only a little thing. Or perhaps that's why it's such a big deal, because it is such a little thing. That's why I'm always scrupulous to put my hand out the window in thanks, just in case the kind person who let me in didn't see it through the tinting. Only takes a second but makes a big difference. Try it – if not for me, then at least for the three other considerate drivers out there.
Yahoo
25-05-2025
- General
- Yahoo
Can you choose to believe something, just like that?
Some years ago, I was in a lively conversation with a software developer about arguments for and against God's existence. After discussing their merits and shortcomings, he paused – perhaps a little impatiently – and said, 'You know, these arguments really don't matter that much. I choose to believe in God. Believing is so valuable for my life.' But is that how belief works – can you simply choose to believe? People can, of course, choose to read certain sources, spend time with certain groups, or reflect on a certain matter – all of which influence their beliefs. But all of these choices involve evidence of some kind. We often choose which evidence to expose ourselves to, but the evidence itself seems to be in the driver's seat in causing beliefs. For much of the past 2,000 years, philosophers would have been perfectly comfortable with the software developer's claim that belief is a matter of choice. A long line of distinguished thinkers – from the Stoic philosopher Epictetus and Saint Augustine of Hippo to French rationalist René Descartes and early feminist Mary Astell have held that people can exercise at least some control over their beliefs. Over the past half-century, however, 'doxastic voluntarism' – the idea that belief is under the control of the will – has been widely rejected. Most current philosophers don't think people can immediately believe something 'just like that,' simply because they want to. What beliefs someone ends up having are determined by the people and environments they are exposed to – from beliefs about a deity to beliefs about the solar system. As a philosophy professor myself, I've dedicated years of reflection to this issue. I've come to think both camps get something right. Some philosophers think that the nature of belief itself ensures that people cannot just choose what to believe. They argue that beliefs have a 'truth-aim' built into them: that is, beliefs characteristically represent reality. And sadly, reality often does not obey our wishes and desires; we cannot just decide to think reality is a certain way. No matter how much I may want to be 6 feet, 8 inches tall, reality will faithfully imprint it upon my consciousness that I am 5'11" every time I glance in the mirror or make an appearance on the basketball court. Were I to resolve to believe that I am 6'8", I would quickly find that such resolutions are wholly ineffective. Or consider another example. If belief were truly voluntary, I would gladly relinquish my belief that climate change is afoot – imagine how less worried I'd be. But I cannot. The evidence, along with the widespread agreement among scientific authorities, has indelibly impressed upon my mind that climate change is part of reality. Regardless of whether I want to believe or not believe, bare desire isn't enough to make it happen. Beliefs seem largely outside of our direct control. But if that's true, some rather alarming consequences seem to follow. It seems we had better stop blaming people for their beliefs, no matter how far-fetched. Suppose I believe a dangerous falsehood: that Bill Gates used the COVID-19 vaccine to implant microchips in people, or that climate change is a hoax, or that the Holocaust is an elaborate fabrication. If belief is involuntary, it looks as though I am innocent of any wrongdoing. These beliefs just happened to me, so to speak. If beliefs are not voluntary, then they seem the spontaneous result of my being exposed to certain influences and ideas – including, in this case, conspiracy theory chat forums. Now, people can choose what influences they allow into their lives – to some extent. I can decide where to gather information about climate trends: a chat forum, the mainstream media, or the United Nations' Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change. I can decide how much to reflect on what such sources tell me, along with their motivations. Almost all contemporary philosophers think that people can exert this type of voluntary control over their beliefs. But does that mean I am responsible for the beliefs I arrive at? Not necessarily. After all, which sources we decide to consult, and how we evaluate them, can also be shaped by our preexisting beliefs. I am not going to trust the U.N. climate panel's latest report if, say, I believe it is a part of a global conspiracy to curtail free markets – especially not if I had many similar beliefs drummed into me since childhood. It gets difficult to see how individuals could have any meaningful freedom over their beliefs, or any meaningful responsibility. Research has led me to think that things are a bit less grim – and a bit less black and white. Philosopher Elizabeth Jackson and I recently carried out a study, not yet published, involving more than 300 participants. We gave them brief summaries of several scenarios where it was unclear whether an individual had committed a crime. The evidence was ambiguous, but we asked participants whether they could choose to believe the individual was innocent 'just like that,' without having to gather evidence or think critically. Many people in the study said that they could do exactly this. It's possible they were mistaken. Still, several recent studies at the intersection of philosophy and psychology suggest people can control some of their beliefs, especially in situations where the evidence is ambiguous. And that describes many of the most important propositions people are forced to consider, from politics and careers to romance: Who is the best candidate? Which path should I pursue? Is she the one? So, it looks like we have some reason to think people are able to directly control their beliefs, after all. And if the evidence for God is similarly ambiguous, perhaps my software developer was right that he could decide to believe. This article is republished from The Conversation, a nonprofit, independent news organization bringing you facts and trustworthy analysis to help you make sense of our complex world. It was written by: Mark Boespflug, Fort Lewis College Read more: What is love? A philosopher explains it's not a choice or a feeling − it's a practice Lincoln called for divided Americans to heed their 'better angels,' and politicians have invoked him ever since in crises − but for Abe, it was more than words Stoicism and spirituality: A philosopher explains how more Americans' search for meaning is turning them toward the classics Mark Boespflug receives funding from the John Templeton Foundation.
New York Times
22-05-2025
- General
- New York Times
Pope Leo's Doctoral Dissertation: Thoughts on Power and Authority
Almost 40 years ago, an American graduate student in Rome was closely examining the question of what it meant to be a wise and effective leader in the Catholic Church. Today, the doctoral dissertation that Robert Prevost produced in the mid-1980s is one of the most detailed glimpses into the early intellectual life of the man who became Pope Leo XIV this month. The publication is all the more notable because Mr. Prevost didn't produce many public texts, interviews and speeches in the intervening years. The 167-page text is written in English and titled 'The Office and Authority of the Local Prior in the Order of Saint Augustine.' It focuses, often very technically, on authority in the religious order that he joined as a young man. He also addresses how the order's local leaders should function in the organization, and more broadly expounds on the essence and purpose of leadership itself. 'There is no room in Augustine's concept of authority for one who is self-seeking and in search of power over others,' the future pope wrote in one passage. 'The exercise of authority in any Christian community requires the setting aside of all self-interest and a total dedication to the good of the community.' That theme has carried through his life and may suggest how he aims to lead as pope. During the homily at his inaugural Mass at St. Peter's Square, Pope Leo echoed an idea and a particular Bible verse from the document. 'Peter must shepherd the flock without ever yielding to the temptation to be an autocrat, lording it over those entrusted to him,' he preached on Sunday. He wrote in his thesis that 'the virtue of humility is indispensable for any superior' and referenced the New Testament book of 1 Peter: 'Be examples to the flock, not lording it over those assigned to you.' In a section on 'safeguarding the life of the community,' Mr. Prevost addresses how a local leader should handle serious disciplinary cases involving a member of the order, including sexual offenses. Previous pontiffs arrived in the office with volumes of published materials that offer insight into their thinking and interests. Benedict XVI, who was pope from 2005 to 2013, was a prolific theologian and a respected scholar who served for decades as the head of the Vatican's top doctrine office. When Pope Francis, Leo's predecessor, was selected, he had recently published a compilation of his 'reflections,' which he wrote as an archbishop in Buenos Aires. Pope Leo, by contrast, spent almost his entire career working for the Order of the Augustinians, a relatively small order founded in the 13th century. After earning degrees at Villanova University and Catholic Theological Union in the United States, he earned two degrees at Rome's Pontifical University of St. Thomas Aquinas, including a doctorate that was published in 1987. The thesis that was the culmination of his studies in Rome quite literally gathered dust on university library shelves, just another record of another graduate student's extensive studies. Except this student would become the pope. The text finds Leo writing to address a practical issue, if a dry one: how religious orders should function in light of a major revision of canon law that was issued in 1983, just four years before the dissertation was published. That revision was initiated in the 1960s, and developed in the long wake of the Second Vatican Council, which reshaped almost every aspect of the church's relationship to the modern world. Mr. Prevost's dissertation is primarily focused on pragmatic affairs: how long a prior can stay in office, the structure of mandatory retreats, even how he must advertise workshops. But it also contains hints to how he may lead a global church in the next phase of its long history. Here are eight passages that capture the new pope's thinking as a young scholar on leadership, authority and some of the church's most pressing dilemmas. Mr. Prevost refers in his introduction to the 'painful struggle' since the 1960s that led to so much upheaval in the church and the wider world. Citing Pope Paul VI, who led the church from 1963 to 1978, he stresses the need for balance between the values of love and freedom, and obedience and order. A new 'age of personalism' was influencing life in religious orders, too. Mr. Prevost was very concerned with authority and its potential for misuse. He draws this theme from St. Augustine, who is cited everywhere in his thesis. Augustine was concerned about the human lust for domination, and how leaders and institutions needed to work to put boundaries on unchecked power. This was a theme that also concerned Pope Francis, who warned that 'where there is domination, there is abuse,' specifically in the treatment of women. Mr. Prevost repeatedly emphasizes that authority should be a service rather than an opportunity for control. Again citing Augustine, he notes that authority in religious life is not an end to itself. In the order, a leader's role is to help those in the community 'live harmoniously,' guiding them through potential pitfalls and conflicts, and to listen, discuss and respect the talent and intelligence of all. True authority, he writes, requires trust and humility. The act of listening is an Augustinian principle, both listening to God and to one another. It brings the community together, which the prior, as a leader of the community, has a key role in. This 'theology of listening' was present when Pope Leo first addressed the world from St. Peter's balcony after his election. He called for a 'synodal church,' referencing the process of listening and discussion between church leaders and lay people that Pope Francis prioritized, and that Pope Leo is expected to advance. Another recurring theme is the importance of personal relationships in smoothing the inevitable challenges of communal life, including conflicts between authorities and those they lead. Mr. Prevost emphasizes that a 'collegial,' approachable authority can more easily address struggles in the community. But he also writes that while both authority and obedience have communal dimensions, 'in the end there must also be an individual who retains the authority to make decisions and to guide the life of the religious.' Mr. Prevost's dissertation briefly addresses how a prior should handle a wide range of serious disciplinary cases involving a member of the order, including those dealing with sexual offenses. . Citing canon law and the rule book of the Augustinians, Mr. Prevost lists offenses that might lead someone to be dismissed from the order. They include issues like losing 'the religious spirit completely' but also homicide, kidnapping, procuring an abortion or an 'offense against the sixth commandment with force or threats or publicly or with a minor below the age of sixteen.' The sixth commandment in Catholic teaching prohibits adultery. Mr. Prevost emphasizes the importance of charity and sensitivity in enforcing any penalties against a member. 'In the most urgent cases, if no other steps can be taken, the local Prior can, with the consent of his Council, expel a Brother from the house,' he writes. 'The purpose of correcting one of the Brothers is to seek his conversion and to safeguard the life of the community.' Near the end, he clarifies that the prior's role is more than rules and practicalities. For Mr. Prevost, administration and spirituality are intertwined. From a young age, he too had prominent administrative skills — from auditing the finances of his high school yearbook to earning a reputation as a competent leader in the curia. At the Vatican, cardinals are already talking about how he may bring those skills to reform the bureaucracy.
Times
18-05-2025
- General
- Times
Pope Leo gives inaugural mass at St Peter's square: follow live
In his homily, Pope Leo said, 'Brothers and sisters, I would like that our first great desire be for a united Church, a sign of unity and communion, which becomes a leaven for a reconciled world. In this our time, we still see too much discord, too many wounds caused by hatred, violence, prejudice, the fear of difference, and an economic paradigm that exploits the Earth's resources and marginalises the poorest.' Pope Leo is delivering his homily, starting by quoting Saint Augustine: 'Lord, you have made us for yourself, and our heart is restless until it rests in you'. He said: 'In these days, we have experienced intense emotions. The death of Pope Francis filled our hearts with sadness.' As he paused, the crowd applauded.
Arab News
09-05-2025
- Politics
- Arab News
A new pope for unity, peace, and coexistence
The election of Pope Leo XIV marks a decisive moment of renewal for the Catholic Church. It is not a return to nostalgia, but a living rediscovery of its deepest identity: to be a missionary Church, always going forth, always in dialogue, always listening to the cries of the world, and responding with humility, joy, and hope. From his first words, Leo has expressed a clear desire to return to what is essential: the simplicity of the Gospel, the centrality of Christ, and a commitment to the poor and forgotten. He seeks neither power nor prestige, but witness. And that witness has been shaped over a life marked by mission, study, service, and communion. This missionary spirit is not a mere theoretical stance — it is something Pope Leo embodies. His very identity reflects the universality of the Church: he is the first US citizen and the first citizen of Peru to be elected pope, shaped by the Americas, Spain, Italy, and France. He belongs to many cultures and yet is not bound to any one nation. In him, the Catholic Church reclaims its name in the truest sense: a Church for all, not defined by borders or flags, but by Christ alone. His background speaks silently but powerfully of a Church that excludes no one and walks alongside all peoples. Before his election, Leo was Superior General of the Order of Saint Augustine. Deeply rooted in the spiritual and intellectual legacy of Saint Augustine of Hippo, he helped revitalize the order with a renewed focus on contemplative interiority, fraternal life, and service to the peripheries. Under his leadership, the Augustinians became a quiet but bold presence in universities, in impoverished neighborhoods, and in areas of conflict — living out the Augustinian conviction that the heart is restless until it rests in God. His years in Peru were formative, offering firsthand experience of both deep poverty and vibrant popular faith. There, he worked among indigenous communities, urban poor, and young intellectuals alike. He listened before preaching, learned before teaching, and walked humbly among those who bore the marks of Christ in their suffering. From the Andes to the Amazon, his ministry in Peru taught him the language of compassion and the wisdom of the margins. As bishop of Chiclayo in Peru, a diocese modest in size but rich in Christian history, Leo displayed remarkable pastoral sensitivity and moral clarity. He strengthened local communities through social outreach, promoted dialogue with other faiths, and supported initiatives that placed the dignity of the worker at the center of Church engagement. It was no surprise, then, that upon his election, he referenced 'Rerum novarum,' or 'Of revolutionary change,' the landmark encyclical of Pope Leo XIII issued 134 years ago next week — a timely reminder that the Church must speak prophetically about justice. Pope Leo has extended a hand of friendship to the Islamic world and to the Eastern churches ... he speaks not of confrontation but of hope. Rafael Hernandez de Santiago Like Leo XIII, Pope Leo XIV does not fear the truth. He addresses the inequalities and injustices of the global economy with clarity and conviction. He speaks of the suffering of migrants, of workers without protections, of families crushed by economic systems that favor profit over human dignity. For him, the Church's social teaching is not a footnote to the Gospel — it is an expression of it. In speaking truth with love, he reminds us that charity and justice must go hand in hand. It is no small providence that on Feb. 6 Pope Leo was assigned the suburbicarian see of Albano, in Rome — the same seat once held by Leo XIII, linking their pontificates across time in a shared vision of truth, justice, and renewal. But his vision does not stop with Latin America. Since his election, Pope Leo has extended a hand of friendship to the Islamic world and to the Eastern churches. He speaks not of confrontation but of hope; not of fear but of peace. He recognizes the deep spiritual heritage of Islam and expresses sincere respect for its worship of the one God. He understands the Eastern churches not as fragments, but as treasures — with traditions and insights that the Roman Church must embrace to truly breathe with both lungs, as Pope John Paul II once said. This is not a pope who desires to homogenize the Church or the world. Rather, he seeks to reconcile, to foster fraternity, to build a future where differences are not threats but bridges. He envisions real encounters — beyond mere protocol — where truth is spoken and received in love, and where wounds can begin to heal through trust and grace. In many ways, Pope Leo represents a return to the beginning: a Church that is small, poor, brave, and passionately in love with Christ. Yet at the same time, he opens new paths into the future: a Church that walks with every people and nation, that speaks the language of the heart, and that dares to hope. This is not regression. It is rediscovery. And only a Church that remembers where it came from can truly flourish again. Like his namesake, Leo XIV steps into history not to preserve comfort, but to stir conscience, drawing from the wellspring of Saint Augustine, who reminds us: 'In essentials, unity; in non-essentials, liberty; in all things, charity.' And as Augustine also said: 'Do not desert the road of humility if you wish to reach the eternal heights.' It is along that humble, missionary road that Pope Leo now leads the Church — toward unity, peace, and coexistence through dialogue and hope. • Rafael Hernandez de Santiago, Viscount of Espes, is a Spanish national who lives in Saudi Arabia and works at the Gulf Research Center.
