Abstract
This article explores several points for development in Bernard Lonergan’s (1904–1984) philosophical anthropology. First, it addresses the four basic desires he lists in De Redemptione and seeks to place the unrestricted desire to know in the context of those desires. Secondly, it explores the possibility of an additional intellectualist bias in addition to the four biases that Lonergan explicated. Thirdly, it brings Lonergan’s notion of love into dialogue with C.S. Lewis’s The Four Loves in order to clarify and fill in some of the gaps in Lonergan’s treatment of love.
Keywords
Bernard Lonergan’s Insight: A Study in Human Understanding (1957) is a philosophical tome that seeks to articulate a post-Kantian philosophy of consciousness and knowing that counters the legacy of skepticism, subjectivism, and relativism that was left in the wake of the ‘wrong turns’ in the ‘turn to the subject.’ It parallels efforts by Lonergan’s contemporaries, such as Michael Polanyi’s Belief as Knowledge. 1 With respect to the latter, Lonergan highlights knowledge as immanently generated, while Polanyi emphasizes the aspect of human knowledge that is cumulative so that we must rely upon a common fund of tested answers. The two are not mutually exclusive, although it is not possible to distinguish them at times. While Lonergan acknowledges that much of our knowledge is through Bildung—to invoke Gadamer’s phrase, the common fund of belief and knowledge—Lonergan’s emphasis is on immanently generated knowledge. 2
Some readers of Lonergan’s Insight resist his declaration that no major revisions can be made to the philosophy of consciousness the view he proposes in its nearly 800 pages. Others, while accepting that there are no radical revisions to his philosophy, refuse even minor revisions, although Lonergan accepted that such revisions to his thought were not only inevitable but welcome. 3 This article explores some points for further development in Lonergan’s philosophical anthropology that might qualify as ‘minor’ rather than major or radical developments. However, a healthy dialectic between skepticism and innovation must always be the goal. 4
I will argue summarily for three points of development: (1) the expansion of his notion of desire; (2) the possibility of an additional bias that is indirectly related to general bias; and (3) a clarification of Lonergan’s notion of love as brought into dialogue with C.S. Lewis’s The Four Loves.
The Expansion of Desires
The expansion of the notion of desires in Lonergan’s thought is not an innovation; rather, it is his. He expounds upon his notion of desire in the supplement De Redemptione. However, the lack of a critical translation has prevented the broader accessibility of this work. 5 Lonergan distinguishes four fundamental natural desires in human beings: (1) the desire to understand; (2) the desire for rectitude (integrity between knowing and doing); (3) the desire for happiness; and (4) the desire for immortality. 6
Why are these additional desires that Lonergan appropriates from the scholastic tradition important? These desires are propelling forces that move us towards our higher intellectual and spiritual development. They constitute us as ‘enfleshed spirits’ rather than simply as ‘animals having the use of reason.’ 7
Certainly, the unrestricted desire to know dominates Lonergan’s Insight, but that is undoubtedly due to the priority that he gives to understanding in that work. However, Chapter 18, which is on the possibility of ethics, addresses the second desire, the desire for moral integrity and justice, with its emphasis on the continuity between knowing and doing. Still, even the desire for the good is further complicated once it is acknowledged that the desire for rectitude must consider the affectivity of the deliberating subject. Lonergan never fully worked out, however, the role of affectivity in his philosophy, although he breaks significant ground in his subsequent work, Method in Theology.
Of the desires for happiness and immortality Lonergan says very little. However, with sufficient reflection, one could work out the implications of these two desires in the light of Lonergan’s philosophy, especially through his references to being-in-love with other people and with God. In his philosophy, Lonergan relates happiness to being-in-love with another person, be it, family, neighbour, community, or humanity as a whole.
One can distinguish in Lonergan’s thought between being-in-love in a manner that is proportionate to human nature and being-in-love in a way that is not proportionate to our nature. 8 The former refers to being-in-love with one’s family, neighbour, and humanity, and in a previous work I have suggested speaking of horizontal alterity. The latter refers to being in love with God, something I have earlier referred to as vertical alterity. 9 I will return to the topic of love below.
The desire for immortality relates to being in love with God in an unrestricted manner—the fruit of what Lonergan calls religious conversion. In Method in Theology, Lonergan refers to religious conversion as the ‘basic fulfillment’ of our conscious intentionality; in other words, it gives us a sense of ultimate meaning and fulfilment in our lives. Moreover, as a student of the Thomist tradition, Lonergan affirms the beatific vision, where one can anticipate, in hope, the complete fulfilment of one’s conscious intentionality accompanying eternal life. In his early lectures on method he states:
Again, St Thomas in the Pars prima, q. 44, a. 4, ad 3m, insists that all Desire—natural, sensitive, and intellectual—is ultimately desire of God: omnia Deum appetunt ut finem, because every good is a good insofar as it is a similitude of God. But again, that reveals that we reach God mediately; our desires are directly for the finite, and it is ultimately that God is the object of desire.
10
These four desires are also referred to as operators or fundamental drives of the human spirit towards an ever expanding horizon of knowing, choosing, and loving. Further, these desires are rudimentary, that is, they are more basic than so-called regular desires; they are fundamental orientations of human beings to being.
Hence, referring to them as desires does not suggest that they are to be identified with the desire that the Buddha speaks about as the source of human suffering. These desires—in the sense Lonergan speaks about them—are more fundamental than the acquisitive desires that are the source of suffering. For example, think about the Buddha’s initial impulse to find a solution to suffering, his persistent and lifelong quest. This impulse, although not a desire in the acquisitive sense, is more along the lines that Lonergan has in mind when he speaks of desire—a transcendental orientation to being (affectively, psychologically, intersubjectively, intellectually, morally, and religiously). These desires are rudimentary, pre-reflective, and the initial source of much human development and achievement. In other words, one should keep in mind the difference between positive, existential desiring and the negative desire that is mimetic appropriation. The latter desire leads to suffering and is consonant with the Buddhist concern with suffering and evil.
The question emerges: Do these four basic desires exhaust the list of human aspirations? I would argue that the case can be made for a desire for beauty, although as a desire it can be inextricably bound up with the desire for happiness. Nevertheless, the desire for beauty is a twofold desire, which is manifested creatively and reflectively. Creatively, it involves the desire to create, to express ourselves aesthetically. As Lonergan states in Insight, our first work of art is our own living. 11 Reflectively, it is the contemplation of beauty, the desire to live in aesthetically pleasing surroundings, to absorb the music of the spheres, to love nature. This desire for beauty may be read as part of an attempt to read the transcendental notion of beauty into Lonergan’s philosophy.
The expansion of Lonergan’s philosophical anthropology by means of these basic desires—as opposed to the narrower focus on the unrestricted desire to know—will ensure that the vision of human beings as enfleshed spirits prevails over the narrower understanding of ‘animals having the use of reason.’ I would argue that these basic desires should be taught as foundational to Lonergan’s philosophical anthropology and that, when introducing people to Lonergan’s thought, one might place the unrestricted desire to know in the broader context of the other basic desires.
An Additional Bias?
‘Besides the love of light,’ Lonergan states, ‘there can be a love of darkness.’ 12 Bias prevents human beings from authentic understanding and doing. In Insight, Lonergan mentions four types of bias: dramatic, egoistic, group, and general. 13 Briefly, dramatic bias results from the trauma of a psychological wound and prevents one from being attentive to relevant data that would arouse feelings or memories associated with the wound. It is also related to the extent to which one feels threatened by another person, and this includes the challenges to intersubjective relations (that flow, for example, from mimetic rivalry as expounded by René Girard). Egoistic bias results in an individual habitually placing one’s own needs ahead of the community. Group bias refers to the privileging of one group over another and can lead from milder forms, such as stereotyping, to more dramatic forms, such as racism. When group bias interpenetrates with dramatic bias it can erupt into a persistent conflict of violence and war between groups (such as the ongoing Israeli–Palestinian conflict).
General bias dismisses questions that would lead to theory. It is the bias of common sense, which restricts intellectual pursuits to the ‘practical.’ It does not comprehend the adage that ‘good theory is practical’ but, rather, holds that theory is an impediment to practicality. Correlatively, general bias resists long-term solutions and is content to choose short-term ones. Lonergan acknowledged that his notion of general bias was similar to what Eric Voegelin called pneumapathology—a kind of disease of the human spirit that escalates into what Lonergan calls the ‘longer cycle of decline.’ 14
General bias is perhaps the most serious of the biases in its intergenerational and long-lasting effects. It permeates, for example, the modern education system in a preference for practical education over the humanities, as dictated by financial and economic considerations. The study of philosophy and religion are dismissed as irrelevant by the person of general bias, regardless of the fact that when nations go to war, it is often due to conflicting philosophies and religious worldviews.
In the context of general bias, the question of an additional bias emerges, one that Lonergan did not address, but that I am exploring here. If general bias is the bias of common sense, or in other words, the adamant preference for common sense over theory, then could there be an opposite bias that prefers the world of theory over the world of common sense? Or, in other words, is there a bias that gives epistemological priority to the world of theory? I am not thinking here necessarily of the ‘absent-minded professor,’ whose consciousness is so differentiated into the world of theory and scholarly activity that the professor fumbles in the arena of common-sense, practical living. Nor am I thinking of the academic who lives in the ‘ivory tower.’ The latter term is more likely indicative of the accusation leveled against the academic world by people infected with general bias. What I mean by this additional bias is the philosophical privileging of the world of theory over the world of common sense. It is an intellectualist bias.
15
Let us look at this privileging in regard to the theories of Galileo as presented by Lonergan. He summarizes this issue in Galileo as follows:
Galileo distinguished between secondary and primary qualities. Secondary qualities were merely subjective appearances that arise in an animal’s senses as a result of the action of other, primary qualities; such appearances were illustrated by color as seen, sounds as heard, heat as felt, tickling as experienced, and the like. Primary qualities, on the other hand, were the mathematical dimensions of the real and objective, of matter in motion. Hence, while we would place scientific progress in the movement from experiential to pure conjugates, Galileo placed it in the reduction of the merely apparent secondary qualities to their real and objective source in primary qualities.
16
According to Lonergan, Galileo’s claim is ‘extrascientific,’ that is, his reduction of secondary to primary qualities is a philosophical move rather than a scientific one.
17
Moreover, it is a philosophical mistake with ramifications that have persisted longer than the 500 years it took the official church to apologize formally to Galileo (1992) about the theological implications of his work. It is perhaps ironic that the official church has yet to realize the implications of his philosophical mistake. Recent developments in quantum mechanics are challenging the dominant Galilean view, but the philosophical implications of the reduction of secondary to primary qualities remain with us.
18
Lonergan explains:
Instead of speaking of the relations of things to our senses [description or the world of common sense], he spoke of the merely apparent secondary qualities of things. Instead of speaking of the relations of things to one another [explanation or the world of theory] he spoke of their real and objective primary qualities, and these he conceived as the mathematical dimensions of matter in motion. Thus Galilean methodology is penetrated with philosophic assumptions about reality and objectivity, and unfortunately those assumptions are not too happy. Their influence is evident in Descartes. Their ambiguities appear in Hobbes and Locke, Berkeley and Hume. Their final inadequacy becomes clear in Kant, where the real and objective bodies of Galilean thought prove to constitute no more than a phenomenal world.
19
The difference between the world of things related to us and the world of things related to one another reflects not only the difference between description and explanation respectively, but also the distinction between the world of common sense and the world of theory. It follows that Galileo’s reduction of secondary to primary qualities as a philosophical mistake will have implications for the subject in the common-sense world operating specifically in the dramatic pattern of experience.
Initially, one can presume that the intellectualist bias, the privileging of the world of theory over the world of common sense, was simply a philosophical mistake, albeit a significant one pervading Galileo’s thought and the subsequent Western intellectual tradition. However, I believe that the intellectualist bias is far too pervasive simply to be a mistake. I would argue that the bias pertains to those who prefer the explanatory (or world of theory) to the world of common sense. The world of common sense includes also the dramatic pattern of living in its full range of intersubjectivity as outlined in Lonergan’s treatment of the dialectic of the subject in Chapter 6 of Insight. Therefore, in terms of the dramatic subject, the residual effect of this preference for theory over common sense is that one cannot trust one’s own common-sense experience. This effect is also the legacy of Kant’s emphasis on phenomenal appearances.
Secondly, the presence of this bias means that the temptation persists for those who attempt to live exclusively in the world of theory to emotionally disconnect from the dramatic pattern of living. In short, the eclipse of dramatic living can have a negative impact on relations with other human beings. The personal lives of intellectually biased people can be a mess insofar as such a condition reflects a lack of integration and psychic wholeness.
One of the significant features of Lonergan’s philosophy is that he acknowledges the validity of both worlds, the world of things related to us and the world of things related to one another. One is not forced to choose theory over common sense or vice versa. In order to demonstrate the twin realities, Lonergan often refers to the example of Arthur Eddington’s two tables: ‘Eddington distinguished two tables. One of them was brown with a smooth surface on four solid legs and pretty hard to move around. The other was a pack of electrons that you could not even imagine. Which of the two tables is the real table?’ 20 In Lonergan’s philosophy, both tables are real and reflect different ways of knowing insofar as the judgements concerning each table are affirmed in judgement or to the extent they are corroborated in scientific observation and experimentation. The person of common-sense bias will eschew the theory of electrons in favour of the concrete table which one can trip over. In contrast, the intellectually biased person will privilege the theory of electrons as revealing what ‘really’ constitutes the table and discount the secondary qualities of the table.
It is refreshing that Lonergan does not force us to choose between the two tables. Both conceptions are valid ways of understanding the table, one by way of description and the other by way of explanation. This example is basic, but it points to overcoming the discrepancy between general bias, on the one hand, and the intellectualist bias, on the other. Both the table as related to us and the elements as molecules related to one another comprise two necessary and complementary ways of knowing.
Furthermore, Lonergan demonstrates their complementarity with reference to the scientific discovery of the sphericity of the moon. 21 We know that the moon is a sphere because of its phases. The phases are described in relation to us, but when the phases are related to one another, the intelligibility of the sphericity of the moon is provided. Hence the world of things related to us and the world of things related to one another are complementary, and their interrelatedness is a necessary part of human knowing. The fruit of the intellectual conversion that Lonergan calls for in Insight enables one to avoid the Scylla of general bias, on the one hand, and the Charybdis of the intellectualist bias, on the other.
Towards a Fuller Account of the Biases?
Having said all of this, however, the intellectualist bias was already addressed by Mark Morelli in his paper on common sense at the 1999 Lonergan Workshop. There he calls it ‘monomorphic bias’:
This tendency to affirm the primacy of the intellectual pattern, without regard for its domain of relevance, can lead to a totalizing contraction of the actual, legitimate range of human interest. In other words, one may fail to consider that Lonergan’s list of biases—dramatic, individual, group, and general—might be tactically articulated in line with his strategic interest in methodological integration, and that the general bias to which all men and women of common sense are prone may in fact be just one species of a still more general bias to which all polymorphic subjects are prone. To this bias I would give the suitably ugly name, ‘monomorphic bias.’ Like the other biases, monomorphic bias at once inhibits and reinforces the desire to know and ultimately contracts the effective range of action. It inhibits the desire to know by promoting the contraction of polymorphic consciousness to a single orientation and mode of operation; it reinforces the desire to know by totalizing the realm of meaning emergent from that orientation and mode of operation. The general bias of common sense seems to be monomorphic bias in its commonsense, practical manifestation.
22
Morelli speaks to the point I am considering. Particularly relevant is his suggestion that this ‘tendency to affirm the primacy of the intellectual pattern, without regard for its domain of relevance, can lead to a totalizing contraction of the actual, legitimate range of human interest.’ 23 However, by monomorphic bias, Morelli means something broader than just a contraction of conscious preference for the intellectual pattern. For him, it would include all forms of singly differentiated consciousness, be it the aesthetic, interiorly, or religiously differentiations of consciousness. For example, Kierkegaard has warned us about the unintegrated and destructive life of the aesthete. And mystics often suffer from a lack of integration in the common-sense realm due to their preference for utter self-transcendence. Bernard of Clairvaux, for example, was so rigorous in his diet of fasting that he required a bucket by his side at all times in order to catch his spontaneous intestinal refuse. 24 I cannot but agree with Morelli in anticipating a more explanatory account of the biases, especially the general bias. I conclude this section with an example of how the intellectualist bias can be overcome in the turning to the dramatic pattern of experience in relations with the other.
The Example of Le Pichon
Xavier Le Pichon (b. 1937) exemplifies an individual who has not succumbed to the temptation of living exclusively in the world of theory. Le Pichon has had a very interesting life. As a child he was a prisoner of war along with his family in a Japanese concentration camp in Vietnam, where he faced the threat of death on a regular basis. He also became a celebrated geophysicist and has made significant contributions to the theory of plate tectonics. In his essay ‘Ecce Homo’ and in a recent interview, Le Pichon tells of a turning point in his professional career. Experiencing much success in the field of geophysics, he was increasingly drawn by a nagging of his conscience. He felt he was spending too much time in the laboratory and not enough time in meaningful interaction with people, particularly the marginalized of society. In an unprecedented decision he decided to spend three months with Mother Theresa’s community in India. Of particular importance was the moment he describes when he was feeding a starving boy who would soon die. In those moments, Le Pichon was transformed in an encounter with the boy—an encounter that serves as the basis for the title for his essay, ‘Ecce Homo.’ He describes the effect this event had on him:
This happened in Calcutta in 1973. It is at this instant that I suddenly discovered that my life would never be the same: I could not go back to my lab and continue to live as before. The ‘Poor’ had knocked at my door. I had opened it. [The boy] had entered and was now with me forever. Borrowing the words of Isaiah 4, I had recognized in this child my own flesh and I could not escape any more. I did not know his name and yet he had given me a new name that I had been expecting for years. Within his suffering, my new friend had a mysterious power of presence that had enlightened my own self. In exchange for the small amount of love that I had been manifesting in my own poor way, I had received the gift of the Spirit of God who was dwelling in him. Through this gift I had been confirmed in the depth of my living being, that is of my loving being, who needs presence and who needs at the same time to give himself and to be received fully within a unique relationship.
25
Le Pichon is currently an active member of the L’Arche community in France and simultaneously continues his celebrated work in theoretical geophysics. While struggling to balance these two worlds, he was encouraged by his spiritual director, a priest, not to give up his professional career in geophysics but to continue his ministry to the marginalized. This is in contrast to another founding member of L’Arche, Jean Vanier, who left his position in philosophy at the University of St Michael’s College in Toronto, never to return. Le Pichon’s example demonstrates the integration of the two worlds of the dramatic pattern of human relations and the theoretical differentiation of consciousness.
Le Pichon exemplifies the ideal of integration that is characteristic of the genuine or authentic person. Lonergan used to cite Arnold Toynbee on ‘withdraw and return.’ 26 He used this reference to illustrate the ideal of the person who is able to navigate between the different worlds that pertain to differentiations of consciousness, such as Teresa of Avila’s ability to navigate simultaneously the mystical and the practical worlds. In the case of Le Pichon, it is the turn to the other that provided a clue to identifying and overcoming the intellectualist bias. This is an overcoming that, in his case, occurs in the love of one’s neighbour.
Lonergan and Love
In this section I wish to clarify some issues concerning Lonergan’s treatment of love. In his later writings, Lonergan added a fifth transcendental precept, ‘be-in-love,’ to the previous four: be attentive, be intelligent, be reasonable, and be responsible. The fifth precept has been associated with what has been called a fifth level. 27 However, it is not a fifth level of intentional consciousness per se, but, rather, a fundamental tendentional orientation of the subject’s knowing and choosing—an exercise of vertical liberty towards others and towards God. 28 To put it another way, if responsible decision-making is the precept for the fourth level of operations, then being lovingly committed is the precept for the subject at the so-called fifth level. It is to ask: ‘To whom or to what principles will I donate myself? To whom or what will I channel or direct my decisions?’ This is analogous to the meditation on the Two Standards in the Spiritual Exercises of St Ignatius Loyola. 29
When Lonergan says, ‘Be-in-love,’ with whom does he suggest that we should be in love? A related question would be: ‘To what extent can we make ourselves be in love?’ Lonergan’s treatment assumes that being-in-love flows from an experience of falling in love. In fact, he is quite consistent with specifying with whom we should be in love: one’s family (spouse, children, relatives), one’s community (neighbour, society, country) and with God (transcendent value). 30
There remains much to be worked out concerning the topic of love in Lonergan’s thought, and I would suggest turning to C.S. Lewis’s The Four Loves in order to clarify some of these issues. Before going into some detail on these four loves, I will make an observation concerning the value of such a dialogue.
The principal thing to keep in mind is that Lonergan did not reflect sufficiently on the idea of love in his later thought so as to distinguish explicitly the so-called natural loving, that is, love that is proportionate to human living (romantic, family, neighbour, society) and the love which is not-proportionate (transcendence). Lonergan would not only agree with this distinction, he probably presumed it; nevertheless, it is important to point this out because it helps one to avoid the mistake that C.S. Lewis warns against with idolatrous personal relations. ‘Every human love, at its height, has a tendency to claim for itself divine authority…. That erotic love and love of one’s country may thus attempt to “become gods” is generally recognized. But family affection may do the same. So, in a different way, may friendship.’ 31 In other words, when personal relations such as those with lovers, family, friends, or community (society, country and/or church) receive ‘the unconditional allegiance which we owe only to God … they become gods: then they become demons.’ 32 This idolatry can be destructive not only in personal relationships, but also in the manner in which the love of country, for example, can be transformed into violent nationalist ideologies.
Lonergan and the Categories of Love
C.S. Lewis treats four types of love: storge (affection), philia (friendship), eros (romantic and sexual), and agape (unconditional love). Storge refers to affection. For Lewis, we can see this type of love even in the instinctual responses of animals as in the case of a mother lioness for her cubs. When two people fall in love there is an affection shared between them that is intense, private, and intimate. People can show their pets affection, sometimes even more so than they do other human beings. However, affection is also an element of saintly life, as when, for example, saints are able to love the unattractive, because they see beyond the physical surface and embrace the beauty of the person as seen in God’s eyes. Likewise, mystics develop an enormous affection for God.
Despite this, Lewis reminds the reader that ‘if we try to live by Affection alone, Affection will “go bad on us.”’ 33 Affection can be misplaced or overemphasized. It can become like the house built on sand, with no foundation. Lewis speaks about the distortions of affections as ‘Need-love’ and as ‘Giving-love.’ In Need-love, one can become demanding, self-centred, and self-seeking for affection. However, ‘Giving-love’ can be distorted as well, such as when one spoils a child with affection. Still, Lewis does not elaborate on how one distinguishes between positive and destructive affection. He leaves unresolved the issue of how one prevents oneself from being deceived by the pleasure of storge.
Lonergan, as a Jesuit, was trained and formed in the tradition of Ignatian spirituality. At the heart of this spirituality is the emphasis on ‘inordinate affections,’ and the need to discern in order to address those affections insofar as they interfere with the spiritual life. In Lonergan’s work on value and the human good in Method in Theology, he distinguishes between the need to discriminate between satisfaction and value. 34 The radical transformation of this ability occurs in what he calls moral conversion. However, in the more normal functioning of life, an individual inevitably faces major life choices and moral dilemmas, which require one to advert to one’s feelings on the issues. For Lonergan, the feelings pertaining to satisfaction and those pertaining to true value can be intertwined and confused. In the face of such choices and dilemmas, one must advert to one’s feelings and try to apprehend the true value through discernment. Hence, Lonergan’s emphasis on the role of affectivity and moral conversion helps to put storge in a context that we do not find in Lewis’s treatment.
Friendship
Paraphrasing Emerson, Lewis states: ‘Friends see the same truth.’ While it may seem that friends choose each other, in reality, it often comes down to the circumstances in which would-be friends find themselves. When friends find each other, it is as if they exclaim: ‘What? You too? I thought I was the only one.’ 35 Two friends come together because they have a common purpose, or they cooperate towards a common goal. Still, while it may be that friendship is the least of the biologically based forms of love, this is not to say that friendships cannot develop into romantic relationships and, conversely, that lovers cannot become friends.
Lonergan’s treatment of love does not really address friendship (philia). Friendship in Lonergan’s philosophy probably pertains to the level of personal value, which he mentions in Method in Theology in the chapter on the human good. The preferential scale of values includes vital, social, cultural, personal, and religious values. He situates personal value between cultural and religious values on the preferential scale. 36 We have noted that for Lonergan, being-in-love pertains to a person’s romantic partner, family, society/community/country and to God. Lonergan had little to say about friendship. Formed in the religious life as he was in the pre-Vatican II context, close friendships would have been discouraged. Such a life could at times be alienating and isolating and may in part explain why Lonergan had little to say about friendship. While it is quite possible that Lonergan would agree with Lewis’s articulate review of philia, there are further aspects of Lonergan’s thought that are conducive to an understanding of friendship.
Recently, Lonergan scholarship has turned to his claim of mutual self-mediation and difference. 37 Mutuality is a basic feature in friendship. Differences can be mutually enriching but also mutually challenging because a friend can challenge another’s biases in a spirit of charity.
At the level of personal value, loyalty to one’s friends is a common feature, one that Lewis does not articulate but presumably presupposes. At the level of religious value, there can be friendship with God, which to invoke Lewis’s emphasis, would include us working together with God towards a common end. Finally, there is evidence that Lonergan did view friendship with God as a fruit of sanctifying grace. 38
Eros
For Lewis, Eros is about falling in love with a person. A person in love wishes to be in the beloved’s presence simply for the sake of being there. The delight one experiences in the beloved’s presence leads to acts of spontaneous giving: ‘One of the first things Eros does is to obliterate the distinction between giving and receiving.’ 39 In contrast to this, Lewis uses the term Venus to refer strictly to the sexual appetite. 40 When two people fall in love, Venus may be part of the chemistry, but it is not the predominant feature. With Eros, the focus is on the beloved; by contrast, with Venus the focus is on the gratification—one does not consider the other person but rather the satisfaction of the appetite.
Lonergan’s corpus has little to say about sex and romantic relationships; it remains a lacuna in his thinking. However, we can assume from one of the few pertinent remarks that he made on the subject that he probably would agree with Lewis’s distinction between Eros and Venus: ‘Sex, finally, is manifestly biological yet not merely so. On this point man can be so insistent that, within the context of human living, sex becomes a great mystery, shrouded in the delicacy of indirect speech, enveloped in an aura of romantic idealism, enshrined in the sanctity of the home.’ 41
In Lonergan’s theory of consciousness, the dramatic pattern of experience pertains to the world of practical living and human relations. 42 It is dramatic precisely because, firstly, we seek to express dramatic artistry in our everyday living, preferring to do things with style and creative flair and, secondly, because relations between human beings are charged with feelings and emotions. Although Lonergan does not mention it, one could speak of a sexual pattern of experience, closely related to the biological pattern, which would match Lewis’s thought on Venus. In the sexual pattern, one is concerned with sexual gratification just as the biological pattern demands sleep, food, sustenance, etc. However, for Lonergan the patterns can blend, so that the sexual pattern can interpenetrate with the aesthetic pattern providing the spontaneity, play, and freedom which Lewis ascribes to Venus.
In Lonergan’s quotation above, there is also the possibility of sexuality mediating something more than just the biological: it can mediate the mystery of another person. It can be elemental in the sense that the lovers become one—physically to some extent, but more so interpersonally. So we can make a further sub-distinction to the dramatic pattern of experience when it flows in the romantic pattern. Two people’s emotional lives become intertwined. In this pattern they treat each other differently to other people in their lives. When they are together, they enter into a romantic pattern where cor ad cor loquitur—heart speaks to heart.
This flow of consciousness in the romantic pattern can be especially intense and predominant in the early stages of falling in love, and it can be overwhelming. However, just as Lewis warns in the case of Eros, the romantic ideal can become an end in itself as in the case of so-called serial monogamous relationships. In his book The Road Less Traveled, Scott Peck states that ‘the bloom of romance always fades.’ 43 Similarly, for Lonergan, being-in-love (or Eros) is sustained by commitment: ‘When a man and a woman love each other but do not avow their love, they are not yet in love. Their very silence means that their love has not reached the power of self-surrender and self-donation. It is the love that each freely and fully reveals to the other that brings about the radically new situation of being in love and that begins the unfolding of its life-long implications.’ 44 True love, therefore, if it is to be maintained and prevail, requires a commitment from the lovers.
The later Lonergan mentioned a fifth level and fifth transcendental precept: ‘Be in-love.’ The operative question becomes ‘Who or what will I commit or donate myself to?’ The public avowal of love and the commitment that accompanies such avowals are the key to the sustenance of Eros. This commitment will persist in the absence of feeling; as Peck suggests, ‘real love often occurs in the context in which the feeling of love is lacking, when we act lovingly despite the fact that we don’t feel loving.’ 45 In the language of Lonergan, real love occurs with the apprehension of true, rather than apparent, value, or, in other words, the choice of value over satisfaction.
According to Peck, there is a myth of romantic love that presumes cathexis to be true love. This potentially intoxicating dynamism of Eros can remain a temptation throughout the lives of the lovers. In light of this I would argue that there is a dialectic of the romantic subject. This dialectic is articulated by the Jungian analyst Robert Johnson. He writes about the tension in romantic love between the commitment to passion, on the one hand, and the commitment to a human being on the other. He speaks specifically about Western notions of romance. 46 In his book We: Understanding the Psychology of Romantic Love, he traces the emergence of Western romance from its origins in courtly love in the Middle Ages. He presents an in-depth analysis of the medieval myth of Tristan and Isolde. Like Peck, Johnson is suspicious of romance for romance’s sake, and he insists that a relationship must also include ‘affection and commitment.’ 47
The intoxication of romance has its roots in a spiritual longing—the soul’s quest for union with the divine. Consequently, romance can be the projection of one’s soul onto another, and lovers will need to face this temptation. Johnson elaborates:
A man is committed to a woman only when he can inwardly affirm that he binds himself to her as an individual and that he will be with her even when he is no longer ‘in love,’ even when he and she are no longer afire with passion and he no longer sees in her his ideal of perfection or the reflection of his soul. When a man can say this inwardly, and mean it, then he has touched the essence of commitment. But he should know that he has an inner battle ahead of him. The love potion is strong: The new morality of romance is deeply ingrained in us; it seizes us and dominates us when we least expect it. To put the love potion on the correct level, to live without betraying his human relationships, is the most difficult task of consciousness that any man can undertake in our modern Western world.
48
While this quotation elaborates on the dialectic of romance in the male, Johnson is clear that it applies to Westerners in general and to men and women equally: ‘Since the ascendancy of romantic love [from the emergence of courtly love in the Middle Ages], most Westerners are torn constantly between two opposing ideals: One is the ideal of romance; the other is the ideal of commitment in human relationships. We commonly think they are the same, but they are utterly opposed.’ 49 Perhaps Johnson’s language here is deliberately rhetorical in order to make his point; however, he is highlighting a dialectic in the romantic subject—one that exchanges or misappropriates the spiritual longing for transcendent union with the ‘love potion’ of romance. He states: ‘Romantic love … has supplanted religion as the arena in which men and women seek meaning, transcendence, wholeness, and ecstasy.’ 50
Hence, what I would call the dialectic of the romantic subject involves the inner tension that negotiates the connected, but opposed, principles of desire for union with other human beings, one the one hand, and the desire for transcendent value, on the other. The distortion of the dialectic occurs either when one mistakes the desire for ultimate transcendent value for that of union with another human being (making romance an end in itself) or when one views human intimacy as an obstacle to ultimate transcendent value. The first distortion leads to an idolatrous relation with the beloved. The second distortion can lead to an alienation from human relations and a withdrawal from the community. There is a lack of integration, for example, in those ‘Eunuchs for the Kingdom of God,’ who repress, deny, or displace their need for human intimacy in their pursuit of ultimate transcendent value.
In the successful negotiation of the dialectic of the romantic subject, there is the commitment to a person in a way that brings about and furthers one’s development and self-transcendence. There is the further recognition of the beloved’s strengths and limitations, but this does not preclude a commitment to ultimate transcendent value. The latter commitment is not an obstacle to the relationship with the human beloved but, on the contrary, increases the potential for a deeper significant human connection, since human beings are capable of mediating transcendent value.
Indeed, while it may be true that the yearning for romance is an echo of the yearning for ultimate fulfilment, it is equally true that in loving, committed, romantic relationships, lovers can mediate the divine to each other. There is a sense in which lovers can abide in each other. On this point, we can apply Lonergan’s Trinitarian analogy to help understand the profundity of the authentic connection between lovers. The three divine persons in one God are present to each other in a perichoresis or circumincession or mutual indwelling. 51 When two people are in love and are committed to each other, there is a sense in which they remain connected with each other even when they are apart. The spirit of the beloved resides in the heart of the lover just as the divine persons mutually indwell within each other. This, in part, helps to understand the pain of relationship break-up. Physical separation is one thing, but emotional separation can feel like an amputation.
In sum, on the one hand, romantic love can devolve into a deviated transcendence, where one lover (or both) psychologically projects onto the other in an unhealthy manner. On the other hand, the loving committed relationship can be a nexus, where divine love is mutually communicated between lovers. Finally, for the so-called ‘eunuchs,’ who successfully negotiate the dialectic, the love and commitment to transcendent value brings them into a more intimate love with humanity. They are able to love more people deeply insofar as they successfully negotiate this dialectic. One sees this clearly in the authentic expressions of monastic life in both the East and West.
Charity
For Lewis, charity is not a natural love like affection, friendship, and Eros. ‘The natural loves are insufficient.’ 52 Charity is a gift. God’s love is offered freely, not because God needs to, but because God wants to. It is pure Gift-love. This Gift-love can serve as an analogy for understanding God, and it is only through analogy that we can know God. Moreover, charity does not preclude suffering. In fact, it may invite us to offer ‘sufferings in all loves’ to God. 53
Natural loves can be inordinate. For Lewis, when Jesus says that one cannot serve two masters or that one should hate one’s mother, brother, sister, et alia, he does not mean ‘hatred’ in the malevolent sense. Rather, he means that one should resist the temptation to place the natural loves before the love of the creator: ‘We may love [a person] too much in proportion to our love for God; but it is the smallness of our love for God, not the greatness of our love for the [person], that constitutes the inordinacy.’ 54 With respect to the natural loves, when it comes to a choice of obedience to God or to the beloved, one must choose God.
However, God freely chooses to love us first. We encounter this love in multiple ways, both naturally and supernaturally. In terms of our nature, God implants Gift-love and Need-love in us. The former reflects the images we express of God as good teacher, mother, artist, etc. The latter pertains to what Rahner would describe as our supernatural existential, the fundamental orientation towards transcendent mystery—an unrestricted openness. 55 As a supernatural gift, Gift-love can be vertical and horizontal. Horizontally, it enables us to love ‘what is not naturally lovable, lepers, criminals, enemies, morons, the sulky, the superior and the sneering.’ 56 Vertically, it enables us to love God, not that God is in need of anything, but we can give to God the only thing we really possess, our free will.
In addition, the fruit of charity and the gift of God’s love establish a supernatural Need-love for God and for others. In terms of divine Need-love for God, God turns ‘our need of him into a Need-love of him.’ 57 Our wishes and our necessities do not conflict insofar as we aim to please God by obedience to his will—‘a joy in total dependence.’ 58 Grace also establishes a supernatural Need-love for others. We are lovable not because of anything intrinsic to us but because of the divine indwelling. 59 Our intrinsic worthiness is not reliant on our native talents or on some external criteria, but, rather, on the hidden God that others encounter in us and, conversely, we encounter in others.
Another result of charity is that natural loves can be sublimated into supernatural loves: ‘The natural loves are summoned to become modes of Charity while also remaining the natural loves they are.’ 60 In a word, human beings can become mediators of the divine. But human spiritual development is always precarious and subject to weakness and sin, so the need persists for ongoing conversion.
Finally, Lewis speaks of a third grace in addition to the two graces of charity (horizontal and vertical Gift-love and Need-love). Although he has little to say on this grace, other than that God ‘awakens a supernatural Appreciative love’ in a person for oneself. ‘This is of all gifts the most to be desired … With this all things are possible.’ 61 Lewis does not reference this example, but he may have something in mind along the lines of mystical marriage, such as that experienced by Catherine of Alexandria and Catherine of Siena.
Lonergan’s dissertation was on the notion of operative and cooperative grace in Thomas Aquinas. 62 The main issue that he dealt with at the time was the clarification of the relationship between free will and grace. Operative grace is sanctifying grace that makes us pleasing to God, while cooperative grace accompanies the redeemed so as to further help others come to the knowledge of God’s grace through witness and acts of charity. In Method in Theology, Lonergan speaks of operative grace in terms of the dynamic state of being in love in an unrestricted manner. In that same text he mentions that the move to a methodical theology entails that ‘for every term and relation there will exist a corresponding element in intentional consciousness.’ 63
Lonergan would later speak of sanctifying grace and the habit of charity in terms of the dynamic state of being in love in an unrestricted manner. By invoking this terminology, he was trying to use a more ecumenical language, which could be useful for an emerging context of interreligious dialogue. The question emerged, however, among Lonergan scholars as to whether or not sanctifying grace and the habit of charity could survive as distinct terms in a methodical theology; in other words, if they could have corresponding terms in intentional consciousness. Lonergan’s ‘off the cuff’ admission that the two were an amalgam in light of his later articulation of the dynamic state added to the confusion. 64
Robert Doran seeks to preserve the distinction between sanctifying grace and the habit of charity, and, likewise, to identify the corresponding relations within intentional consciousness by viewing them analogously in terms of the procession of the Holy Spirit. 65 Therein, the Father and Son breathe the Spirit in active spiration, and this is analogous to sanctifying grace. The Holy Spirit as breathed, or as passive spiration, is analogous to the habit of charity. 66 Through the habit of charity, human beings seek to love God and neighbour in return, just as the Holy Spirit loves the Father and the Son in return. In this way, human beings participate and imitate the love of the Holy Spirit for God and through them for all of creation. The habit of charity is the response of the human being to the elevation in the soul through sanctifying grace. Whereas Doran has creatively distinguished the two theological realities from the analogy of the Trinity, ‘from above’ so to speak, Lewis complexifies and clarifies more precisely the various forms of charity as operative from the side of the subject. Although he does not use technical language, his distinctions are, nevertheless, helpful in understanding the various dimensions of charity, both passively and actively, vertically and horizontally; thus, enriching the Trinitarian analogy further.
The first aspect of charity to which Lewis refers, the supernatural horizontal Gift-love, is the charity that enables people to love those who are not easily lovable, including one’s enemies. In Doran’s analysis, the procession of the Holy Spirit is the uncreated passive spiration that the Father and the Son breathe and in doing so love the Spirit. The created contingent term of this active spiration is sanctifying grace; it elevates the central form of the redeemed enabling and inspiring them to new heights and spontaneous acts of charity that are well beyond their natural inclination and abilities. The presence of sanctifying grace is accompanied by the indwelling of the Holy Spirit in the individual. Acts of charity flow from this condition of being-in-love, and it is manifold in its implications. First, in this elevated state of being-in-love, one loves the despicable and the ugly because one recognizes not only the indwelling of the Holy Spirit in the other, but the indwelling of Christ as well—‘Whatsoever you do the least of these, you do unto me.’ 67 The gift of God’s love leads to a knowledge born of the gift, expressed tacitly in a judgement of value (‘yes’), and these two together (gift and judgement of value) spirate charity. The judgement of value is, thus, the external term of an invisible mission of the Word. 68 This invisible mission ennobles us to affirm the goodness of adhering to the teachings of Christ, on the one hand, and the goodness of affirming the presence of Christ, particularly in the marginalized, the rejected, and the alienated, on the other.
Secondly, one loves one’s enemies because the indwelling Spirit and the habit of charity that accompanies it operate according to the Law of the Cross. 69 This law embodies the fruits of the redemptive suffering brought by the death and the resurrection of Christ. It is embodied also in the explicit teachings of Jesus from the Sermon on the Mount: to pray for those who persecute you, bless those who curse you, etc. The Law of the Cross provides a permanent stop-gap measure to the cycle of mimetic rivalry and violence. For Lewis, there is also a supernatural vertical Gift-love dimension to charity. This component of charity elevates us, ennobling us ‘to love him in return.’ 70 In terms of the Trinitarian analogy, again it imitates the Holy Spirit’s ‘yes,’ but, rather than it being directed to others, it is directed vertically to the Father and the Son.
In terms of the supernatural horizontal Need-love, the state of sanctifying grace and the corresponding habit of charity create in human beings the need for community. In other words one imitates the Trinitarian community in an attempt to create a community on earth as it is in Heaven. In this way, the Church understands itself as the Ecclesia de Trinitate, the extension of the love of that divine community in history. Correlatively, there is a supernatural vertical Need-love, wherein the aspect of charity involves a growing sense of dependence on the part of the redeemed. One realizes that one’s entire existence depends upon God. God’s private revelations to Catherine of Siena, for example, reflect this sense of dependence when God says to her: ‘You are she who is not, and I AM HE WHO IS.’ 71 In Catherine’s Dialogue this is the essence of self-knowledge, which serves as a constant reminder to her of her utter dependence upon God’s benevolence. In terms of the Trinitarian analogy, the applicability is not immediately clear, since the divine persons are not dependent upon each other. Still, by way of analogy, one can presume that this vertical need love imitates the desire of the divine persons to share their exuberant love with each other and the rest of the created order.
Finally, Lewis speaks of supernatural appreciative love and says little about it. I would argue that such appreciative love flows from the intimate relationship between the Triune God and the beloved made possible by the gift of sanctifying grace. The tradition of mystical marriage imitates this union from within the immanent Trinity; this appreciative love imitates the union of the three persons in the divine godhead. Praise and thanksgiving embody the proper response to such union and so reflect this supernatural appreciative love.
Conclusion
I have elaborated upon three aspects of Lonergan’s philosophical anthropology that could benefit from further development: the expansion of the notion of desire, the incorporation of an additional bias, and the expansion of his notion of love (including friendship). The three proposed developments are related in their fostering of a fuller integrative anthropology of knowing and loving.
In terms of the expansion of his notion of desires, I have suggested placing the unrestricted desire to know within the context of Lonergan’s remarks about the three desires (for justice, happiness, and immortality) in De Redemptione in order to prevent an overemphasis on the intellectual aspect of his anthropology. In terms of bias, I have argued for the possibility of an intellectualist bias that privileges the world of theory over the world of common sense, and, thereby, facilitates a lack of integration between knowledge and human relations. In terms of his notion of love, a fruitful complement to Lonergan’s endeavours is C.S. Lewis’s The Four Loves. As we have seen, Lewis’s treatment of the four loves not only ennobles Lonergan’s attempt to address love, but also promises a further complement to Lonergan’s endeavours. Lewis helps to complement Lonergan’s notion of love by clarifying proportionate and disproportionate loves, as well as friendship, romantic love, and charity. This includes, I have argued, the recognition of a sexual pattern of experience that is at once an extension of the biological pattern and a potential blend with the aesthetic and dramatic patterns. It also acknowledges the development of a romantic pattern of experience as a subdivision of the dramatic. This includes a dialectic of the romantic subject, which challenges the individual to strive continually for integral vertical and horizontal personal relations. Finally, Lewis’s precise treatment concerning charity assists the ongoing conversation concerning Lonergan’s four-point hypothesis and the Trinitarian analogy.
Footnotes
1
Bernard F.J. Lonergan, Insight: A Study in Human Understanding, in Collected Works of Bernard F.J. Lonergan, vol. 3, ed. Frederick E. Crowe and Robert M. Doran (Toronto: University of Toronto, 1992); Michael Polanyi, Personal Knowledge (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1962).
2
Lonergan, Insight, 728.
3
He states: ‘What is excluded is the radical revision that involves a shift in the fundamental terms and relations of the explanatory account of the human knowledge underlying existing common sense, mathematics and empirical science’ (Lonergan, Insight, 359, emphasis added).
4
For example, in the wake of speculations concerning the multiplications of conversion in Lonergan’s thought of which he explicated three (intellectual, moral, and religious) and accepted a fourth (psychological), I have argued for an Occam’s Razor in regard to such developments, except when necessary to advance an understanding of his thought (see John D. Dadosky, ‘Healing the Psychological Subject: Towards a Fourfold Notion of Conversion?’ Theoforum 35 [2004]: 73–91).
5
I am relying on the revised translation (2000) of this text by Mike Shields, SJ, for the Lonergan Research Institute, Regis College, Toronto. This work is to be published in a forthcoming volume of the Collected Works of Bernard F.J. Lonergan. I am grateful to Fr Shields and to the Trustees of the Lonergan Estate for permission to cite it (Bernard F.J. Lonergan, ‘Supplement to De Verbo Incarnato: De Redemptione,’ unpublished manuscript).
6
Lonergan, De Verbo Incarnato: De Redemptione, 11. I suspect one could include the desire for justice in this desire, since human beings not only demand rectitude for their own knowing and doing, but they demand it of others both individually and collectively.
7
Ibid., 12.
8
Jeremy Blackwood from Marquette University has helpfully clarified this in the forthcoming: Jeremy Blackwood, ‘Sanctifying Grace, Elevation, and the Fifth Level of Consciousness,’ Method: Journal of Lonergan Studies, n.s., 2 (2011): 143–161.
9
See John Dadosky, ‘Is There a Fourth Stage of Meaning?’ Heythrop Journal 51 (2010): 768–780.
10
Bernard F.J. Lonergan, Early Works on Method I, in Collected Works of Bernard F.J. Lonergan vol. 22, ed. Robert M. Doran and Robert C. Croken (Toronto: University of Toronto, 2010), 43.
11
Lonergan, Insight, 210.
12
Lonergan, Insight, 244.
13
Lonergan, Insight, 214–216; 244–259.
14
Robert Doran applies Voegelin’s notion to Lonergan’s work: Robert M. Doran, Theology and the Dialectics of History (Toronto: University of Toronto, 1990), 282. On the longer cycle, see Lonergan, Insight, 251–259.
15
Robert Doran used this term when I was initially discussing it with him, and I have since appropriated it for this article.
16
Lonergan, Insight, 107.
17
Ibid., 109.
18
154.
19
Ibid., 153.
20
Bernard F.J. Lonergan, Understanding and Being, in Collected Works of Bernard F.J. Lonergan, vol. 5, ed. Mark Morelli, Elizabeth A. Morelli, and Frederick E. Crowe (Toronto: University of Toronto, 1985), 10; Sir Arthur Eddington, The Nature of the Physical World (Cambridge: Cambridge University, 1928), xi–xv.
21
Lonergan, Understanding and Being, 48–50.
22
23
Ibid.
24
See David Knowles, Christian Monasticism (London: McGraw-Hill, 1969), 157.
25
Xavier Le Pichon, ‘Ecce Homo,’ in Spiritual Information II, ed. Charles L. Harper Jr (West Conshohocken, PA: Templeton Foundation, 2009), 2, to appear.
26
Bernard F.J. Lonergan, Topics in Education, in Collected Works of Bernard F.J. Lonergan, vol. 10, ed. Frederick E. Crowe and Robert M. Doran (Toronto: University of Toronto, 1993), 51–52.
27
Robert M. Doran, ‘Consciousness and Grace,’ Method: Journal of Lonergan Studies 11 (1993): 51–75.
28
Lonergan invokes the phrase ‘vertical liberty’ from Joseph de Finance (see Lonergan, Method in Theology [Toronto: University of Toronto, 1985], 40).
29
David L. Fleming, Draw Me Into Your Friendship: A Literal Translation and a Contemporary Reading of The Spiritual Exercises (St Louis, MO: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1996), 110–111.
30
For the relevant passages, see Bernard F.J. Lonergan, A Third Collection (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist, 1985), 30, 52, 106, 123–124, 133, 175, 208, 217.
31
Clive Staples Lewis, The Four Loves (New York: Harcourt Brace, 1988), 7.
32
8.
33
Ibid., 55
34
On this, see Robert M. Doran, ‘Ignatian Themes in the Thought of Bernard F.J. Lonergan: Revisiting a Theme that Deserves Further Reflection,’ Journal of the Lonergan Workshop 19 (2006): 83–106.
35
Lewis, The Four Loves, 65.
36
See Lonergan, Method in Theology, 31–32.
37
See, for example, the argument for a seventh model of church, ‘The Church as Friend’ (John Dadosky, ‘The Church and the Other: Mediation and Friendship in Post-Vatican II Roman Catholic Ecclesiology’ Pacifica: Australian Journal of Theology 18 [2005]: 302–322).
39
Lewis, The Four Loves, 96.
40
Rollo May makes a similar distinction between eros and the sexual appetite, emphasizing the conflicting aspect (see Rollo May, Love and Will [New York: Norton, 1969], 64–99).
41
Lonergan, Insight, 210.
42
Ibid., 210–212.
43
Morgan Scott Peck, The Road Less Traveled: A New Psychology of Love, Traditional Values, Spiritual Growth (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1985), 85; Peck spends a substantial portion of the book addressing the early stage of falling-in-love, which involves what he calls cathexis. At this stage there is in the experience of falling in love a temporary dissolution of psychological boundaries between the two lovers. According to Peck, the strength of this cathexis is fueled by its mixture of romantic and sexual desires. But Peck insists love is not a feeling. Often, once the initial cathexis subsides, the two lovers will need more to sustain the relationship in the long term. Peck elaborates on several aspects that characterize the substantial aspect of love: discipline, fidelity, attending to and extending oneself to the beloved, the courage to risk, to compromise, to commit, etc. (Peck, The Road Less Traveled, 120–169).
44
Lonergan, Method in Theology, 112–113.
45
Peck, The Road Less Traveled, 88.
46
Robert Johnson, We: Understanding the Psychology of Romantic Love (New York: HarperCollins, 1983), 102.
47
103.
48
Ibid., 103.
49
99.
50
ix.
51
Bernard F.J. Lonergan, The Triune God: Systematics, in Collected Works of Bernard F.J. Lonergan, vol. 12, trans. Michael G. Shields, ed. Robert M. Doran and H. Daniel Monsour (Toronto: University of Toronto, 2007), 413–420.
52
Lewis, The Four Loves, 116.
53
Ibid., 122.
54
Ibid.
55
Karl Rahner, God, Christ, Mary and Grace, in Theological Investigations, vol. 1, trans, Cornelius Ernst (Baltimore: Helicon, 1961), 300–302, 310–315.
56
Lewis, The Four Loves, 128.
57
Ibid., 129.
58
Ibid., 131.
59
Ibid., 133.
60
Ibid.
61
Ibid., 140.
62
Bernard F.J. Lonergan, Grace and Freedom: Operative Grace in the Thought of St. Thomas Aquinas, in Collected Works of Bernard F.J. Lonergan, vol. 1, ed. Frederick E. Crowe and Robert M. Doran (Toronto: University of Toronto, 2000).
63
Lonergan, Method in Theology, 107.
64
65
Ibid.
66
Lonergan, The Triune God: Systematics, 470–473.
67
68
I am grateful to Robert Doran for his clarification on this point.
69
See Robert Doran, ‘The Nonviolent Cross: Lonergan and Girard on Redemption,’ Theological Studies 71(2010): 46–61.
70
Lonergan, Method, 116.
71
Thomas McDermott, OP, ‘Catherine of Siena’s Teaching on Self-Knowledge,’ New Blackfriars 88 (2007): 637–648, at 639.