"We cannot have compassion without acknowledging the suffering of others." This sentence (p. 167) crisply expresses Carl Anderson's central claim in A Civilization of Love that a reinvigoration of the Catholic tradition of personalism can transform the world. When we focus on individuals rather than abstract data, we discern the contours of their suffering--a suffering in which, we also realize, we're too often complicit. But we also discern the fact that they, made in the likeness of God, are eminently lovable. Just as Christ lovingly makes himself a gift to us in the Eucharist, so we're moved by compassionate love to give ourselves to them (p. 55). The goal is more than mere community; the goal is communion.
This vision of compassionate love as the catalyst for both vertical (human-God) and horizontal (human-human) relationships is as old as Christianity. Anderson draws on a diverse wealth of thinkers--for example, John Paul II and Benedict XVI, Paul Ricoeur, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Robert Coles, Freud, Lao Tsu, Aquinas, and George Orwell--to argue for the vision's contemporary relevance. His defense is gracefully and judiciously written.
One of the outstanding qualities of Anderson's treatment is that he refrains from lapsing into a circle-the-wagons shrillness, a temptation into which many religious critics of modern secular culture fall. He makes it clear in his first chapter that he finds the "Whig version of history's" focus on material progress naively optimistic, and his subsequent examinations of education (Chapter 3), Christian humanism (Chapter 4), family (Chapter 5), globalization, work, and economics (Chapters 6 and 7), and right to life issues (Chapter 8) underscore his reservations about secularization. But Anderson spends more energy in setting forth his positive alternative model than wringing his hands over the old one.
Although I quite like Anderson's book and his personalist approach, I have two reservations. The first is the book's surprising silence on issues of war and peace. Both John Paul and Benedict have written strong personalist-oriented denunciations of war that redefine traditional just war doctrine. Given the fact that the US just passed the fifth anniversary of our latest war, it's odd that there's no mention of Catholic teaching on the violence of warfare.
My other reservation is Anderson's treatment of work and economics. While acknowledging that capitalism unleavened by love can reduce human relationships to consumerist manipulation, Anderson ultimately concludes that the economic structure that births huge multi-national corporations isn't itself the problem. Rather, the problem is the abuse of the system by unscrupulous individuals, and a love-ethic is needed to reinforce the Catholic notion of "business as a calling" (a phrase Anderson borrows from Michael Novak, p. 120). While I see his point, I also think that a stronger case can be made for overhauling the entire system. The current subprime mortgage debacle, for example, surely hasn't been caused by a few bad apples. It's a reflection of the way in which our current economic system encourages systemic greed. Anderson's treatment strikes me as too individualistic.
Having said this, though, Anderson's book is highly recommended. It's a refreshing and inspiring defense of the social consequences of taking the "absurd" (as Paul Ricoeur puts it) commandments to love God, to love our neighbors, and to love our enemies, seriously.
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* "Love conquers all." |