My soul, if it could be catalogued, might seem like a continental law book. I live by principles (which those closest to me have noticed). I have principles—not one or two, but many. My friends often question whether what I have are principles, and then they often question why I have these particular “principles.” Because these tendencies exist in me and will endure in me, I feel I ought try to explain—
A principle is not a policy. Policy is for politicians, of which I have no inclination to be. Politicians compromise and finagle, they make a living striking balances and defining things in accord with the times, with the world. Policy and politicians are not per se evil; they are not per se too worldly, too easy, or too complacent—they are, however, not me. Principles, like policy, are defined not in a semantically certain way except in how they cause the holder to behave. It is not objectively the case for one to define what is or is not a principle in or for someone else except in its adherence by the other. A principle, unlike a policy, is inflexible and inviolable.
The inclination of many of my friends is to tell me that I am too liberal with what I call principles. However, the same people that tell me I too readily label concepts as “principles” also say that I too rigidly adhere to them. What this tells me is not that I am too liberal with the label, nor too staunch in my observations, but that they simply do not like what I label as principles nor their consequent behaviors. That should be their criticism. To be called stubborn or crotch-edy would be accurate (perhaps), but not label-liberal. I may have too many principles, but I have not misappropriated the term. You may not like the rigidity of my behavior but your assent does not my principle make.
Living by a plethora of principles is both a personal preference, a matter of consideration for others, and a strategy of life. First of all, principle-living is an answer to what I consider, the problem of being overly inundated with choices. I am a very fortunate person, blessed with many varied means, skills, and talents. I have many options available to me. Many of these options are sinful, but many are not. The Lord’s principles automatically deter me (although not always) from the sinful choices. Yet, I am still left with a wide array of possibilities. My many principles help me simplistically and algebraically navigate this blessed quagmire of options. They help me to travel a narrower road as a matter of discipline—because the evermore rigorous one’s trek is through the field of permissible possibilities, the more safely one is confined from falling into the field of sin. Principles are not an idol because they are not an end—they are a means to holiness despite their often attenuated character. A single principle can be criticized as silly or even sometimes a hindrance—but its value is not in what it alone accomplishes in any given moment, but what they all accomplish in a single lifetime.
Secondly, a principle is useful as much to its holder as to those around him. Principles may often irk others or confuse them because of the peculiarities; nonetheless, principles are unmistakably noteworthy in that the more they are observed by the holder, the more constant the person seems to the Other. Constancy is a rarity in this day-and-age; fickleness is a marked trait of the world. Others may know you by your behavior; they may grow to anticipate your response’ they may come to discover more about the your soul’s structure by your actions. Consistency and constancy, immutability and unwavering unchangedness are admirable qualities of the divine which principled-living helps facilitate.
Thirdly, principles are a strategy for life. The world in which we live is boundary-less. There are no clear backyards, no clear neighbors, no clear issue touching our lives or calling us to immediate action. Technology and communication have forced many of us to reach to new, far corners of the world all the while forgetting not only our roots, but why roots matter. Roots matter because they plant us concretely and realistically in the world. Roots force relationships of proximity and necessity. Roots integrate lives most fully because they prime the situation to be the most prone for interpersonal community. Principles can be the roots we too often lack. Principles can become the boundaries we most desperately need. Principles give our crazily chaotic lives definition, even if they seem self-defined and limit-imposing.
A principled life can be described as intemperant; but only sometimes rightly so. Rigidity can no more necessarily equated with vice than with policy. The viciousness of a position cannot be applied until such detriment appears—either subjectively or objectively. We each must navigate this world as best we can—some of us use the ever-varying winds, others the stable stars. Fixedness may not be flexible, but that does not make it flippant. If nothing else the principled-nature of principled-living makes it different, counter-cultural, and revolutionary. Accordingly, I will live as such (as a matter of principle, of course).
If something is a principle, then it is an unchanging standard of right conduct. But if "[l]iving by a plethora of principles is a personal preference," doesn't it follow that those principles must themselves be devices of one's own creation? If that it so, then it seems that the suggestion of rigidity might apply after all.
ReplyDeleteRigidity is not, in itself, a bad thing. One should be rigid in one's adherence to one's love for God; one should be rigid in one's love of neighbor, insofar as it is pursued for the love of God. Outside these two categories, however, it seems difficult to demonstrate how rigidity could serve to advance those two fundamental vocations of the Christian life: if one is rigidly adherent to any principle besides these two, it seems that one could violate -- at least in an inadvertent way -- the duty to be rigid in one's love for God and neighbor.
It is also said that "[c]onsistency and constancy, immutibility and unwavering unchangedness are admirable qualities of the divine which princpled-living helps facilitate." It is true to say that consistency, constancy, immutibility, and unwavering unchangedness are characteristics of Almighty God. To say that the exercise of these attributes in human persons is to be commended -- and should be adopted as some sort of guide to the moral life -- is quite flawed. Indeed, to be Christian is to change, and to be holy is to change often. The human experience of concupiscence demands that human persons -- except for a very small number, like the Blessed Virgin Mary, who did not experience that reality -- must change in order to be faithful to the two fundamental principles of the Christian life: loving God and loving one's neighbor. To be utterly consistent, constant, and unwavering as a human person suggests that one's initial starting position -- or some further position attained after a period of conversion -- is the position of immutable perfection that must be clung to at all cost. It would seem that for a human person to assume such an attitude, he would find himself replacing the rock upon which he builds his life with a notion of "rock-solid principles" or "rock-like constancy" rather than the Rock himself.
If principles are "a personal preference," then it is difficult to see how they can be anything but an arbitrary, or at best artificial, system of roots. Roots are, whether one is pleased with them or not, a product of ones previous experience. One may wish to grow out of one's roots or graft in additional experiences in order to hybridize one's roots and thus bring about wanted -- and needed -- change, but one cannot wholly destroy or replace one's true roots. This is not a determinism; rather, it is the notion that though one may have been shaped by certain experiences in one's past, ones present and future choices can exert influence on one's life so that change -- for the good -- can occur. Principles can only give lives definition if the principles upon which we rest find their meaning in God, rather than in "personal preference."
Intemperance would seem to necessarily be a vice -- after all, the right implementation of all the virtues is never a vice or sin. Rigidity in principles outside those which are God-given can be a stumbling block to the practitioner thereof, except insofar as that practitioner is rigidly adherent to loving God and loving neighbor.
The person of principle is strongly encouraged to closely examine the principles to which he clings to determine whether in their implementation and in their exercise they are consistent with the fundamental, required principles: loving God, and loving neighbor. If those principles are not, or if they hinder one's ability to exercise charity in those two ways, then those principles should be cast aside, and the rigidity which characterizes them should be abandoned as stubbornness unbefitting a servant of the Most High.
If your definition of principle is correct, then your final imperative is wholly inappropriate: "The person of principle is strongly encouraged to closely examine the principles to which he clings to determine whether in their implementation and in their exercise they are consistent with the fundamental, required principles: loving God, and loving neighbor." Clearly, by your definition, conduct that is not God-loving or neighbor-loving (apparently on their face) is not principled conduct-- therefore we are not dealing with a "principled person" or need such person "examine their principles;" for, alas, they have none. Concerning my agreement with the imperative, well I think you clearly do not follow what I write, but merely wish to write a blog post of your own, which I would encourage you to do. Perhaps it could be a post about general charitable living, which my blog post is not about. My blog post is about personal practical living. If it is the case that we may "love and do what we will" (which I believe it is) then what we will do may take many practical forms. I have chosen to live a principled life (which as I write in the blog is a preference). I am not sure why that suddenly becomes automatically uncharitable except that you, like many others, simply do not like my principles and can easily dismiss them by flippantly labeling them as uncharitable or stubborn in the sight of God. Why not leaving the continental United States or not wearing khakis or automatically ordering a reuben sandwich if it is on a menu is a principle is for the holder to judge and execute. How such behavior can become uncharitable, I don't know, but why it must be uncharitable, well, I don't know that, either. This blog post is about explaining personal behavior which I have no desire for other people to mimic or extol. Your blog post rejects the possibility of plurality within a life of charity and advocates a single position, which apparently is not "love God and do what you will," but merely "love God;" which isn't wrong, but simply gives little guidance on what to do while here on earth. I am simply describing how I go forward from my Love of God; you are ranting about loving God. You simply are not addressing the post while it is clear that you do not agree with the post. What that means is not that I am right, or that you are wrong. It simply means that we go forward from the Love of God in different ways. And that's okay.
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