Showing posts with label Roman Catholic Church. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Roman Catholic Church. Show all posts

Saturday, October 17, 2026

Political Wins as God’s Will

Albeit homo sapiens, which in Latin means the wise species of humans, we have a tendency to outdo ourselves on our petty, partisan perches in pontificating on God’s will, as if we know it even though we can merely believe in God, rather than know God, here defined as the Abrahamic deity—a supreme being within (immanent) and beyond (transcendent) Creation. This “beyondness” is of the sort that goes beyond the limits of human thought, perception, and emotions, and even intuition. Because God’s will is not based in Creation since God is the Creator, the matter of that will can only be a matter of belief rather than knowledge as far as we are concerned, and that belief must contend with the human discretion that is inevitable in interpreting scriptural passages, which, depending on the verse, may be literal, figurative, allegorical, or symbolic. Even within the Christian Trinity, only the Father knows when the Second Coming of Jesus Christ will occur. In the Gospel of Matthew (24:36), Jesus says, “But about that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.” Does this mean that of the three persons (Latin) or manifestations (Greek) of the Christian deity, only the Father is omniscient (i.e., all-knowing: knows absolutely everything)? It would seem so. The Holy Spirit may come through the Son, but only the Father is omniscient, and thus the Godhead. In verse 34, Jesus has just said, “Truly I tell you, this generation will certainly not pass away until all these things have happened.” Even if “that day or hour” is up to the Father, while Jesus only knows that the Son will come on clouds to judge the living and the dead sometime within the lifetimes of the people to whom he is speaking, omniscience would require even the exact second to be known; otherwise, the knowledge is not complete (i.e., omni). That Jesus is wrong concerning his prediction does not mean that he is with sin; only that he is represented in the New Testament as being of the god-man type. Now, if Jesus Christ in the Gospel of Matthew does not have complete knowledge of when the world will end at the final judgement by Christ himself, then human claims to know the contents of God’s will can safely be relegated as arrogance as if it were on stilts during a flood, for such presumption should be underwater rather than lording itself in pontificating to other mortals. With all this as context, the partisan rhetoric and genuine beliefs of the U.S. House Speaker, Mike Johnson, while he was campaigning in 2026 for Republican candidates for elected office in the U.S. House, can be situated and analyzed from well within the religious domain.

While campaigning, “Johnson said he is grateful for the outpouring of prayers he receives, for him and the country.”[1] The prayers to which he was referring were for the Republican group to retain control of the U.S. House in its next 2-year session, beginning in early 2027. As for his own prayers, he said that he prays for such a win. “And it does say in the New Testament, you run the race to win,” he said, alluding to 1 Corinthians 9:24 to insist, “This is a biblical admonition. So we will.”[2] We will win, in other words, because it is God’s will. The fact that Paul was writing letters to congregations on religious matters means that Mike Johnson’s interpretation that political, even partisan wins can be extrapolated can be questioned in particular on the leap he makes from the religious to the political domain. What sort of win does 1 Cor. 9:24 refer to, and if not a political win, can such a win be included?

Verse 24, in the English Standard Version of the Bible, begins by asking, “Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it.” That Paul is referring to an athletic race is clear from the next verse: “Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do so to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable.” Here, it is clear that Paul is referring to a distinctly religious prize, as it is inherently imperishable. I contend that a partisan win which group controls a legislative body is of the perishable variety because political control can shift again in the future. The verse is situated after Paul has been referring to spreading the Gospel. In verse 21, Paul writes of evangelizing outside of Judaism, “that I might win those outside the law.” Verse 22 ends with, “that by all means I might save them.” Paul’s orientation here is to soteriology—to saving souls by bringing to Christ Jesus. This is indeed an inherently imperishable prize, and thus the inference that such a win also applies to retaining political control of a legislative chamber is invalid because the latter—political control—can be all too fleeting for those who enjoy such power, whereas, Paul might say, the power of Christ is everlasting.

If this analysis holds water, then Speaker Johnson’s assumption that it is God’s will that the Republican group retains control of the U.S. House in 2027-2028 is dogmatic in the sense of being arbitrary from a distinctly religious standpoint. Similarly, the Crusaders who believed that they were killing Muslims in the Middle East and even eastern Christians in Constantinople for Christ were utterly mistaken, especially as Jesus preaches in the Gospels that people should be compassionate, even merciful, toward enemies, rather than killing them, which, by the way, is also in violation of “Thou shalt not kill” in the Ten Commandments. Even as late as 2026, Pope Leo countered the U.S. Defense Secretary’s claim that the U.S. was bombing Iran for God by warning that God, which Christians believe is love, should not be dragged into justifying war.

Not even democracy can be said to be God’s will, even though it is easy to argue that religious free-will and political liberty are mutually consistent. Conflating a distinctively theological concept with one from political philosophy, and even assuming that one leads to or justifies the other can be problematic. Confusing political communism with economic socialism, Speaker Johnson said in the midst of the campaigns in 2026, “I pray for God’s will. And I believe God’s will is for us-and not the communists—to be in charge of America.”[3] That he was mischaracterizing the liberal democrats’ position in favor of universal health-insurance through Medicare for all Americans as not only the state owning all of the means of production (i.e., every industry) but also as political communism, which means political dictatorship rather than socialist ownership of industries, renders his prayer nonsensical at best because the Democratic group was not for political dictatorship. God would perhaps scratch “his” head and in hearing Johnson’s politically partisan prayer, quickly conclude that Mike Johnson must either be confused or mendacious in using rhetoric, besides being wrong in assuming that God itself is partisan, and thus favors the Republican group over the Democrats. Labeling even the self-styled Democratic socialists as communists, or even just as wanting to nationalize every industry rather than just expanding Medicare to all Americans, violates the Commandment against bearing false witness, which applies even to political campaigning.

In general, reaching over from the political domain to make use of concepts and practices that are distinctive to the religious domain is fraught with pitfalls because the two domains are not only distinct, but have a unique basis. For instance, political prizes are perishable, whereas salvation of the human soul is imperishable once achieved. In writing of winning in 1 Corinthians, Paul is clearly oriented to distinctively religious wins, rather than to athletic, business, or political wins. In the Gospels, Jesus does not join the zealots because an eye for an eye would only lead to everyone being blind, whereas compassionate acts to one’s enemies, such as Jesus demonstrates in reattaching the ear of a Temple guard after Peter has severed it in anger, ushers in the kingdom of God. Unlike the Last Judgment, of when only the Father knows, the kingdom of God is within a person, in the ability of the proverbial human heart to expand to include and even privilege feelings and acts of kindness to one’s detractors and even enemies; on the arrival of this spiritual condition within, we, by our free will, can decide, albeit with God’s grace to give us a boost. If enough of us, including Speaker Johnson, serve rather than attack or misrepresent enemies, such that inconvenient acts of compassion become the norm, then the kingdom of God could indeed “win.” Russians being devoted to helping Ukrainians, Israelis to helping homeless people in Gaza—in both cases even though the “enemy” has killed even family members—is the kingdom of which Jesus preaches manifested in the world, rather than in an afterlife. Such a kingdom is within our grasp, and yet we are afraid.

As a first step, perhaps religious leaders might serve as models of compassionate,  humbling acts to marginalized victims of human aggression. Even though such compassion does not necessarily involve serving one's enemies, responding to animalistic aggression with acts of humane compassion to victims would highlight that the aggression is two steps of separation from "love thy enemy," and shift the faithful in the direction of such compassionate love as would bring about Christ's peace on Earth. Furthermore, acts are louder than words.

What if the Pope, the head of the Roman Catholic Church, were to have gone to the border of Gaza in 2026, after years of genocide being perpetuated by hardened hearts,  and actually worked with living victims to alleviate their unmet humane needs? It is said, charity begins at home. Talk is cheap. To be sure, denouncing aggression is better than remaining silent during a genocide or military invasion. The pope would doubtlessly have been counselled at the Vatican against such an overt, risky move, as if picking up one’s Cross were to be avoided—as if one could achieve selfless agape love issuing out in inconvenient acts of compassion without dying to self. The pope could have then gone to Ukraine in the mist of Russia's invasion even though he would have  risked being blown up by a Russian bomb while caring personally for wounded, hungry, or homeless persons. Perhaps the Pope could then have visited the United States to volunteer for a few days to care for impoverished, homeless immigrants. 

Pope Leo would have favored the last task due to his political stance on immigration, so I put that stop last on his trip. Redemption from the convenient congruence of a political ideology and putting compassion first is possible, however.

 For Robert Prevost, the first American pope, ideological disagreement with President Trump on several of his policies cannot be counted out, so to take the next step in ushering in the kingdom of God, Pope Leo could have let go of the self-love that is inherent in any ideological ferver by caring for exhausted and emotionally distressed ICE agents whose efforts to enforce U.S. immigration law were being met with hostile protests. Meanwhile, Mike Johnson, if he was truly seeking to follow Jesus's preachments in the Gospels, could have volunteered to care for wounded protesters on the street, in real time, even though he disagreed with their political position. Both men had the opportunity to serve detractors and thus to lead the world not from self-love, and thus from personal ideology, but rather from love of the way into the kingdom of God as exampled and taught by Jesus in the Gospels, who says therein, "I came to preach the mysteries of the kingdom of God."

The challenge for Pope Leo could be said to be in staying within the distinctly religious, or theological, lane, rather than going off from theology, and thus beyond the limits of his ken, into public policy, as if God takes political positions, and into applied ethics, even concerning AI, as if human dignity were a distinctly religious concept rather than an ethical idea. Ironically, a pope's influence is optimized by coloring within the lines, as per one's education and, relatedly, within one's domain.

In short, the kingdom of God can be at hand at last, in this world, by people feeling and acting compassionately in serving people having an antipodal ideology (i.e., with whom one disagrees), and even people who have been rude and even vengeful, whom one hates. As Peter and Waterman wrote in their business book, In Search of Excellence, stick to the knitting. In other words, don’t get distracted by the temptation to shift lanes into other domains as if they were the same or even inferior to one’s own. Perhaps God “stands by” in silence, as the source of existence itself, just watching Robert Prevost and Mike Johnson dance a very human, all too human, dance wherein each of the ideological partisans presumes to be right. Arrogance on stilts during a flood is difficult to submerge in favor of agape love in service to one's opponents in whatever domain.



1. Lisa Mascaro, “House Speaker Mike Johnson Draws on Faith as He Fights to Hold the Republican Majority,” APNews.com, October 17, 2026.
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid.

Saturday, October 10, 2026

Changing Lanes: An Execution to Be Televised Prompts a Papal Statement

Although Pope Francis amended Catholic social ethics to exclude the death penalty rather than continue to accept the punishment in cases in which no other punishment is practical or available, Pope Leo decided in October, 2026 to make a public statement of his Church’s opposition to the death penalty in reaction to the decision of the Trump administration to televise an upcoming execution live on television. That a woman had recently survived execution attempts by two lethal injections may have primed the pope’s pump, as it were. The danger is that the foray into applied ethics by leaders of a religious organization could conflate ethics and theology. That the latter transcends, and may even violate ethical principles, can easily be forgotten when a religious leader speaks out a lot on ethical issues. In the case of Pope Leo’s statement on capital punishment, a distinctly theological rationale can be found, and, I submit, should have received more emphasis, lest the religious leader be reduced to an ethical critic, or conscience. To be sure, in 2026, the world was very much in need of a public conscience, especially because Russia’s invasion of Ukraine was still underway, as was Israel’s genocide in Gaza and wanton violence in the West Bank—all of this aggression was being done with obvious impunity.

Tennessee, a member of the U.S., attempted to execute Debra Johnson with two doses of pentobarbital on September 30, 2026. “At one point she was on a ventilator and her attorney did not expect her to survive. However, they said Pike woke up and began walking with assistance.”[1] This quoted passage from the media makes her recovery seem like a miracle. If it was, perhaps the distinctly Christian deity, which is selfless love (agape), saved Pike’s life out of opposition to the death penalty. Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord comes from the Old Testament. In the New Testament, the deity is epitomized by compassion especially for one’s detractors and even enemies. Pray for those who persecute you, and respond to their human needs with acts of compassion. Neither prayer alone nor being compassion friends suffices. Forgiveness is implicit in being compassionate to someone like Pike, who in 1995 had beaten and stabbed one of her classmates. It is not as if she had gone a murder spree, mowing down many people with gunfire. If the botched execution could be considered to be cruel and unusual punishment, mercy in the form of a reprieve would be justified. After all, she had already spent 30 years in prison knowing that she would be executed—inflicting that expectation for three decades could also be considered as cruel.

On October 8, 2026, the U.S. announced “that the execution of Nidal Malik Hasan, convicted of killing 13 people at a military base at Fort Hood in Texas in 2009, would be livestreamed on 3 December.”[2] Hasan was an army psychiatrist when he “open fire with a handgun at a medical facility at Fort Hood on 5 November 2009 as soldiers waited for medical checks before deployment. He was shot by a police officer during his arrest and left partly paralyzed, and now uses a wheelchair.”[3] It would be interesting to determine whether he was resisting arrest when he was shot. If he was not, then the police employee should have been arrested and charged with attempted murder. As for Hasan, the United Nations’ office of the high commissioner for human rights warned after the Pentagon’s announcement of the public execution that broadcasting it would “breach the absolute prohibition of torture.”[4] Hillary Clinton, a former U.S. Secretary of State, characterized the televising of the disabled man’s execution as a “barbaric idea.”[5] Unlike Pike, Hasan murdered many people. Also unlike Pike, Hasan himself was shot and partially paralyzed, perhaps unjustly. Even so, airing the execution for the world to see could be considered cruel and unusual punishment. This question is political and jurisprudential, as well as ethical in nature; it is not in itself a religious question unless explicit reference to Hasan’s redemption is added.

In writing Fear and Trembling, Kierkegaard makes the point that Abraham is both guilty of attempted murder and is faithful to the divine command to sacrifice his son. The negative jurisprudential and ethical claim is consistent with the positive attribution of faithfulness to the Yahweh—both are correct because they refer to different domains. The charge of attempted murder is valid legally and ethically, and the praise of Abraham obeying a divine command even to sacrifice Isaac is valid theologically. The validity of the theological claim is not invalidated by the unethical act of attempted murder. Theology transcends ethics. Were the Ten Commandments in Torah prior to Abraham, then attempted murder would have theological currency and the question would be: Does the commandment not to kill supersede the divine command to Abraham to murder Isaac? Moreover, how are we to navigate between two conflicting divine commands?

Not being Abraham, and with the Ten Commandments in scripture, both Tennessee and the U.S. faced both the ethical quandary of capital punishment and the divine, theological, decree not to kill. In responding to the debate on whether the U.S. should televise Hasan’s execution, Pope Leo reiterated on October 10, 2026, the World Day Against the Death Penalty, that capital punishment is “inadmissible.”[6] The American Midwestern pope claimed that the punishment is contrary to the inherent dignity of a human being. Human dignity is an ethical rather than a theological term, and thus is not useful from a distinctly theological standpoint. In other words, were the pope driving a car on a road, it could be said that he swerved into another lane; even though the two lanes are related, they not the same lane. Unfortunately, the pope did not use the car’s turning signal to indicate to other drivers that he was going from one lane to another. This analogy falls short, however, because the pope did not entirely leave his lane.

Although the pope wandered from his theological education in claiming in his written statement, “Effective systems of detention have been developed that protect citizens,” he stayed within his ken, and thus in the theological or religious domain, in adding that capital punishment deprives “those who are guilty of the possibility of redemption.”[7] This raises the question of whether a murderer on death row who has sought redemption could then, on religious grounds, be executed. The pope could have added that in the Ten Commandments, the commandment against killing other human beings prohibits capital punishment—that a murder carried out by a criminal does not justify yet another killing, even by a government. Two wrongs do not make a right is an ethical rather than a distinctly theological saying, and thus should not be used in a religious rationale against capital punishment. Rather than appealing to the dignity of a human being, the pope should have stuck with the theme of redemption and added the commandment against killing human beings. Rather than venture into the field of criminal justice as if he had been educated in that field of knowledge, he should have elaborated on redemption itself. It is admittedly very tempting to go beyond one’s ken to pontificate in other domains of knowledge and human experience. I will not hold this against the Pope, as he too is a native Midwesterner from northern Illinois (even though he serially sins by favoring the White Sox over the Chicago Cubs—or is his lapse merely unethical?).

In conclusion, unless an unethical act (or intent) is proscribed by a divine command or decree, or interferes with soteriology or another distinctly theological value, ethical analysis should be left to ethicists. Put another way, studying theology does not also earn a student the right to a diploma in ethics, which is a subfield of philosophy. To be sure, the two fields can be related, but this is not to say that knowledge in one constitutes knowledge in the other. Unlike theology, criminal justice and the ethics of conduct do not contain the element of religious transcendence, which, as Pseudo-Dionysius wrote, inherently extends beyond the limits of human cognition, perception, and sensibility (emotions). Contrarily, to say that science still has unknowns is not to say that the empirical unknown lies inherently beyond our reach. Religious functionaries and leaders, to the extent that they are oriented existentially to the inherently beyond, and thus to interpreting other human domains of experience  in terms of the theological, radiate holiness by driving without swerving into other lanes in order to have more influence.



1, “Christa Pike Is Discharged from a Hospital after Surviving Execution Attempt, Her Attorney Says,” APNews.com, October 10, 2026.
2, David Smith and Ariana Baio, “’Medieval’ and ‘Disturbing’: US Plan to Livestream Execution Elicits Global Condemnation,” The Guardian,  October 2026.
3. Ibid.
4 Ibid.
5, Ibid.
6, Fortunato Pinto, “Pope Leo Condemns Death Penalty, Vance Vows Not to Watch Hasan’s Execution Live,” Euronews.com, 10 October, 2026.
7. Ibid.

Tuesday, September 15, 2026

Higher Education: Far from Christianized

How might universities that are affiliated with a Christian organization, or “Church,” apply the values enunciated and illustrated in the gospels in ways that distinguish such schools as specifically Christian? Do academic administrators at colleges and universities that are formally affiliated with Christianity apply the preachments by Jesus in the New Testament, let alone ask the question? At most, the question, when asked, is usually answered in terms of increasing financial aid, but in the gospels Jesus is not oriented to programs, but instead to interpersonal relations, specially as bear on the marginalized or outsiders in general—the proverbial last being first and most people who regard themselves as first, as last. How might faculty members who delimit their application of academic colleagues to scholar who are on the same faculty, hence at the same college or university? An unlikely example of a Christian values being applied by a professor at Yale, a university whose privileging of exclusivity and thus exclusion is well ensconced (and known) can be contrasted with the organizational culture at the Roman Catholic Church’s official university in the United States. Any cleric administrators at the Vatican who regard the Protestant denominations, or sects, as instances of compromised Christianity might want to take note of the contrast between the Catholic University of America and Yale.


The full essay is at "Higher Education."

Saturday, August 8, 2026

Angels & Demons

Although a sequel to The Da Vinci Code (2006) and also directed by Ron Howard and written in part by Dan Brown, Angels & Demons (2009) stands on its own as a narrative and thus as a film in its own right. Although the relationship between science and religion undergirds the film’s dramatic tension, the more fundamental leitmotif running throughout the film is the sheer ambiguity involved in whether a given character is more like an angel or a demon. An implication is that we mere mortals should not presume to judge the religiosity of other mortals; that’s God’s job, for we so lack the divine attributes of omniscience and omnipotence.


The full essay is at "Angels & Demons."

Tuesday, May 26, 2026

Pope Leo on the Ethical Dangers of AI

Speaking on his first “social” encyclical, Pope Leo said the Roman Catholic Church, whose membership stood at 1.6 billion embodied souls around the world, was “called to interpret ‘new things’ of the age in the light of the Gospel and the dignity of the human person.”[1] He was on terre firma from a distinctly religious standpoint in being anchored in the Gospel stories, which include direct and parabolic preachments by Jesus of Nazareth. Regarding the dignity of the human person, which pertains as much to a humanist as a theist, that basis is not distinctly religious and thus can occasion or permit wandering into other domains such that virtually any topic relevant to mankind could be roped in and even subjected to supervening religious criteria even over criteria native to the topic’s own domain!

To be sure, we should all be for the dignity of the human person, especially as regard dangers from the state. Even so, the utopian vision of humans living free from virtually any threat goes too far in denying the human condition, which is Fallen due to original sin from a Biblical standpoint. Just because some threat or danger exists to people prior to death does not in itself justify an overriding religious interpretation at the expense of the criteria of the domain in which the danger exists. To apply God to automobile safety, for example, would seem contrived and artificial at best. Instead, government regulators ought to be consulted.

Similarly, that the Pope “said he had heard ‘very troubling voices’ regarding autonomous weapons systems and algorithms capable of denying access to healthcare, employment or security based on unjust and prejudiced data” may be better handled by high government officials, regulators, and even ethicists rather than a religious functionary whose knowledge lies in theology.[2] The pope’s statement that words were necessary that are capable of “awakening consciences and indicating paths forward for humanity” best fits the field of ethics, which, although related to religion, is nonetheless distinct.[3] In other words, the pope’s diction belies his implicit claim that the domain of theology is most fitting for a critique of AI. Indeed, the pope even “said every great technological power must be accompanied by moral discernment and public accountability.”[4] Ethics and public policy, not theology. In stating that AI should be “freed from logics that turn it into an instrument of dominion, exclusion or death”—a statement, to be sure, that reasonable people embrace—defense policy under democratic auspices is the native domain, with applied ethics also being highly relevant so it is not simply a matter for immoral or amoral government officials.[5]

Kierkegaard’s Fear and Trembling correctly distinguishes the ethical from the theological in that they can conflict without either one being thereby invalidated. From the standpoint of ethics, Abraham is guilty of attempted murder of his son, Isaac, while from a theological standpoint, he is legitimately subject to a divine command to sacrifice his son. The proper place for a theologian lies with the latter, whereas an ethicist should be confined to the former; overreaching invalidates. So, by quoting Paul’s exhortation to “keep awake” (1 Thess 5:6), the pope committed a category mistake in substituting “humanity’s critical sense and moral vigilance” for being on guard for Jesus Christ’s Second Coming.[6] Overreaching onto ethics can come at the expense of distinctly religious content. Discussing “the biblical figure of Nehemiah rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem,” the pope presented “the image as a model for the ethical construction of the digital age.”[7] I doubt very much if the distinctly theological meaning of that figure is as an ethical model, so we may legitimately ask what of the textual meaning did the pope omit that is distinctly religious, and whether that is applicable to AI. Such overreaching onto even ethics stems from a greed of a certain sort that is also unbounded and based in self-love rather than self-regulation.

To claim as the pope did “that no one must be excluded from digital transformation and that human beings can never be reduced to ‘productivity,’ ‘cognitive performance,’ or ‘mere data’ is not to make a theological statement; a pope is not a business ethicist. John Rawls’ theory of justice applies to the design of economic systems with the priority going to the design itself being oriented to benefitting the least well-off economically. Such a theory is directly applicable to how everyone can actually be included in a digital economy rather than “a privileged few.”[8] So too is Kant’s categorical imperative that mandates that rational beings be treated not merely as means, but also as ends in themselves; human resource management could stand to take that imperative more seriously. In trying to invoke theology in stating, “The person bears within him—or herself—a freedom, an interiority, and a vocation to love and worship that no machine can replace or block,” the pope set up a red herring, for no appreciable danger from AI blocking worship existed even on the horizon in 2026, and certainly not in the workplace where productivity and performance are most relevant and where worship does not pertain. Even if AI were capable of worshipping God, presumably humans could still do so unimpeded, and people would not do it at work while getting paid for their labor.

The pope was on firmer ground in advocating a “civilization of love” as laid out by Pope Paul VI and John Paul II, yet in inviting all people to become “artisans of hope,” Pope Leo turned hope toward Augustine’s earthly city rather than to the heavenly city.[9] That is to say, the theological dimension transcends society and the workplace, government policy, and technology, rather than being oriented exclusively or primarily to them. It is precisely that dimension that was absent from the pope’s remarks that centered instead on the ethics of computer technology. Overstepping into other domains can be thought of as leaving one’s home unattended and thus undefended in its own right, under its own criteria, such that people may even misconstrue it as something else entirely.



1. Linda Bordoni, “Pope Leo Presents ‘Magnifica Humanitas’ Calling for Disarmament of AI,” Vatican News, 25 May, 2026.
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid.
4. Ibid., italics added.
5. Ibid.
6. Ibid.
7. Ibid.
8. Ibid.
9. Ibid.

Magnifica Humanitas: On Leo the Lion-Hearted

Sometimes it pays to go behind a piece of writing to conduct a genealogy of the writer himself or herself, rather than to dive into the writing itself. On May 25, 2026, the fourteenth Pope Leo of the Roman Catholic Church spoke at the Vatican on his first “social” encyclical, Magnifica Humanitas (magnificent humanity), which he had signed ten days earlier. An encyclical is known as a teaching (magisterium) instrument used by the papacy to communicate the Church’s position on a topic. In presenting his encyclical, the pope “described the current technological revolution as an ‘epochal turning point’ comparable to the upheaval confronted by Pope Leo XIII during the industrial Revolution.”[1] That pope’s emphasis on the ethical dimension of an economy, especially with regard to inequality and the related marginalization, was the reason why Robert Prevost chose the name Leo when he accepted the vote in favor of him becoming the next pope after Francis, another social-justice-oriented pope. Lions may indeed come late in the summer, or, sadly, not at all (for even willful, bullying Leos can actually be cowardly, as in Oz), but Leo XIV was already charging voraciously ahead in May, consummating his nomenclature-rationale in words that ensconced his Church firmly in the twenty-first century (in utter contrast to Joe Ratzinger’s antiquarian corrupt administration). All of the media buzz aside, however, if the previous Pope Leo (XIII) actually had had little or no normative influence on what would be harsh (even child!) labor conditions later in the first half of the twentieth century in Europe and North America, then a clear-eyed observer in 2026 could already be skeptical as to the practical significance of Magnifica Humanitas on managers and programmers in Silicon Valley going forward. Moreover, the foray of religion onto AI technology, and even ethics, the latter of which is distinct from albeit related to religion, can be criticized as an instance of dogmatic over-reaching.

Already, U.S. President Trump had dismissed that pope’s disavowal of war in the context of the U.S. and Israel bombing Iran, saying that that pope knew nothing about foreign policy (and thus should have kept his mouth shut). The same could be said of the pope’s (or any religious cleric’s) knowledge of AI. Even though applied ethics is one of my academic fields, for example, I have not written on medical ethics because I do not have a bachelor’s degree (i.e., the MD) from a school of medicine; instead, I have written on political ethics because historical political theory is one of my doctoral fields, on business ethics because I have the MBA (and BS) degree, and on philosophy (and ethics) of religion because I have graduate degrees in religious studies and theology.  Having taken only one course in computer programming in college, I assiduously avoid getting “into the weeds” in applying historical ethical theories to AI, for overreaching into any domain beyond a person’s ken would render one susceptible to the hypertrophy of one’s own ideological opinion primped up as knowledge, or worse, truth.

Moreover, the pope unwittingly opened himself up to the charge of having overstepped the domain of religion by pontificating on AI ethics. Implying that the human-God relation, which transcends even existentialism, somehow translates into a particular ethical stance on something as secular as computer technology is arguably dogmatic in the sense of being arbitrary. In the thirst to be relevant on every contemporary issue, a religious functionary can easily lose sight of the big picture, and even his own ring.

It is significant that Pope Francis chastised bishops in the U.S. for their obsession on two social issues, as if religious faith were an ideological prejudice. The opportunity cost of such a normative orientation lies in the distinctly theological alternative focus on soteriology (and Christology). In the Gospels, Jesus is silent on abortion and homosexuality, so it is strange (at best) that some Roman Catholic bishops have made those issues definitive for church memberships being in good standing (e.g., receiving the Eucharist).

What is the soteriology of AI? Even were AI computers sentient (i.e., self-aware, as to themselves as entities, and with their own motives that involve beliefs and even feelings), what would that have to do with a human being’s salvation before God? That there are threats facing us in our lives in this world is just part of the human condition, even biologically. Even were war and poverty eliminated by enlightened public governance, soteriology would remain as an issue as long as an abyss separates us from God. Put another way, even were there no threats to us in life, it would still be difficult to follow in Christ’s footsteps in responding compassionately even (and especially!) to people we detest. A cowardly lion would have utter disdain for such “weakness,” and would thus remain adamant in refusing to forgive. But as Esther, Ben Hur’s eventual love-interest, remarks in the film, Ben-Hur (1959), when Ben Hur tells her of his thirst for revenge against Messala, a young rabbi has been preaching, “forgiveness is greater, and love is more powerful than hatred.” The opposite of love is not hate, but, rather, indifference, so the seemingly solid fortification of hatred can indeed be dissipated if there is the will, and love. Even without the threat of AI, letting go of one’s hatred as well as the default assumption that making the first move at reconciliation is humiliating rather than a manifestation of strength is difficult.

Although Nietzsche claims that forgetfulness in place of memory is essential in forgiving other people, I submit that even forgetting what a past argument was about is not sufficient for a person to overcome the instinctual assumption and habit of avoidance once that is well-grooved. A few months before writing this essay, I made the first move in restoring a friendship, and having forgotten what we had argued about two years earlier was not sufficient for me to use free-will to stop when passing him to say hello, to which he reciprocated, which led to subsequent socializing. We both subsequently related this to the forgiveness, and the related “peace be with you,” which are so very salient in the Gospels. Interestingly, the experience itself of reproachment led me to consider the guy a long-standing, good friend to whom I could open up about myself even though he and I had not been on speaking terms since arguing about who-knows-what.

In this essay winding up here, have you noticed that I have not analyzed, pro or con, the pope’s teachings on AI? Besides, I am not competent to pontificate on computer technology—which I both enjoy and am frustrated by (the compound, uneasy feeling of which may be what prompts exogenous pontificating on AI by some), and I am probably going to hell anyway to be devoured by angry lions for having criticized a pope Leo who pounced on a reticent Silicon Valley in May. Lions don’t come in late summer in California, after all.



1, Linda Bordoni, “Pope Leo Presents ‘Magnifica Humanitas’ Calling for Disarmament of AI,” Vatican News, 25 May, 2026.

Saturday, April 18, 2026

Religion and Politics: On the Catholic Church’s Just War Theory

In the Gospels, Jesus is portrayed as an idealist, even other-worldly, from the standpoint of the political domain. To be sure, he knows how to alienate the Temple hierarchy enough to be put to death, but he stays clear of the Zealots in their militaristic rebelliousness against the Roman occupation. Give what it Caesar’s unto Caesar. The just-war theory developed by Augustine and Aquinas seeks to bring that gap—to make the idealist of the Gospels more relevant practically to the politics of international relations. To be sure, Jesus’s refusal to join the Zealots—symbolized by Jesus including Romans among those whom he heals—could be used to argue convincingly that attention to compassion for one’s enemy makes impossible even any just war. Jesus is just as idealistic in the story of the rich man who will not give up his wealth to follow Jesus—it is harder for a camel to get through the eye of a needle than for a rich man (who will not give up his wealth to follow God) to enter the Kingdom of God, whose very substance spiritually is epitomized by compassion to one’s enemies, according to the American theologian, Samuel Hopkins. So, Pope Leo was on solid ground in April, 2026 in the midst of the U.S.-Iran War when he emphatically insisted that Jesus would oppose any war—not just any unjust one—but where does that leave the Catholic Church’s just war theory as promulgated by two theological giants, Augustine and Aquinas?

The just war theory “sets out strict conditions for the moral use of military force. The threat must be lasting, grave and certain, and success must be realistically achievable. Most importantly, all other means of resolution must be genuinely exhausted, and the harm caused must not exceed the harm it seeks to prevent.”[1] World War II against Nazi Germany would certainly qualify, given the severity of the Nazi threat in Europe both within and outside of that empire, and the force of the Allies combined as against that of Germany. Nevertheless, the Catholic doctrine can be viewed in relation to Gandhi’s prescription of moral rather than military force set against the Nazis should they have invaded India. Jesus in the Gospels furnishes yet another alternative: reaching out to be compassionate even to Nazi soldiers in response to the humane needs even while voicing opposition to the Nazi regime. In these terms, the Catholic just war theory looks rather militaristic, although clearly not in terms of “anything goes.” Israel’s holocaustic genocide of the people of Gaza would obviously fly in the face of even just war, given the extreme disproportionality in Israel’s over-reaction to the earlier attack by Hamas in which only about 1,200 Israelis had died. Even in bombing Iran and Lebanon, Israel did not even attempt all other means of resolution, and in fact dismissed even the American brief cease-fire during in the spring of 2026. So too, Russia’s invasion of Ukraine could not be counted as just according to the Catholic theory, as the invasion was unprovoked and President Putin had not attempted other means of resolution; his goal, after all, was to restore the Russian Empire of Catherine the Great. Such a naked power-grab cannot be reckoned as just, and in fact manifests Hobbes’ state of nature rather than anything normative.

It was in the context of Russia’s invasion, Israel’s genocide, and America’s bombing of Iran that Pope Leo became speaking in strong words against what was becoming a world order characterized by Hobbes’ state of nature in which life can be expected to be short and brutish. The pope’s criticism of the American bombings thus had larger implications than merely to pressure the Trump administration to resort exclusively to negotiation rather than deadly force. Three bullies on the world stage were literally getting away with murder on a mass scale, while the UN and the International Criminal Court by in large could only stand by and proffer impotent verbal rebukes. As could be expected, the Pope’s opposition to the new status quo was like a lightening rod for the bullies.

Even though U.S. Vice President Vance was schooled in politics rather than in theology, and had only years before even converted to Catholicism, he warned the pope to “be careful when he talks about matters of theology.”[2] I’m sure that rebuke from a recent convert went down well at the Vatican. Abstractly, the over-reaching epistemologically and in terms of praxis of the political domain onto the religious one, supervening the innate criteria and knowledge exclusive to the latter domain, implies a category mistake and even a conflation of the two distinct domains as if they were a seamless whole. President Trump’s comments that the pope was “weak on crime” and “terrible on foreign policy” even covered over the theological domain entirely with political pavement. The pope had used distinctly theological, rather than just moral, not to mention political, language to criticize the American use of military force as stemming from the delusion of omnipotence and self-idolatry. Trump’s earlier threat to destroy Iran’s “whole civilization” was thus “truly unacceptable” from a distinctly theological standpoint (as well as moral one).[3]

In short, even though there was arguably some daylight between the Catholic just war theory and Pope Leo’s assertion that Jesus of the Gospels opposes war itself, it is not as if that theory permits any and all wars. To be sure, especially up against the Hobbesian state of nature, a normative constraint without powerful enforcement can safely be ignored by bullies on the world stage. Theology is distinct from the political realm, and this point is clear in the Gospels as Jesus distances himself from even the Zealots. Hence compassion even (and especially) to enemies and detractors can take place under Christian auspices even against enemies during a war. Vance’s warning to the pope about the latter’s attempt to do theology is thus ludicrous. Moreover, the pope’s alleged pacifism, which is arguably in line with Jesus of the Gospels, implies that the Church’s just war theory may need to be thought with more attention to the Gospels and less to trying to be relevant in the political domain. The world was arguably careening away from the message of peace through forgiveness and compassion that is in the Gospels in break-neck speed, and Pope Leo’s decision to use stronger, more direct theological language reflects just how potentially dangerous the collapse of the post-World War II world order was, as government officials around the world merely looked as at least three bullies were setting up a very different kind of world “order,” one of “(military)might makes right” in which even the legal fiction of international law is wantonly ignored with utter impunity. Antipodally, just because Jesus’s preachments on how the Kingdom of God can be realized here and now could have a significant impact on international relations does not mean the theological domain is the same as, or reduces to, the political domain. Ironically, were the Catholic Church to replace its just war theory with Pope Leo’s statement that Jesus can not be used to justify war itself, this more idealistic move could have a more significant impact on the world both interpersonally and between governments because the ideal of compassion even to enemies would be highlighted from the theological vantage point.



1. Aleksandar Brezar, “White House vs the Pope: What Is Behind the Clash and Catholic Just War Doctrine?” Euronews.com, 17 April, 2026.
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid.

Sunday, April 12, 2026

Distinguishing Theology from Ethics: A Critique of Waging War

Whereas an ethical critique of war appeals to an ethical principle, typically that is against humans being harmed, especially the innocent, a theological critique can be based on a divine degree or on the nature of the divine in contradistinction to human nature as anything but. That is, a distinctly theological critique of war itself or people who wage war is typically based on some obfuscation of the divine and human wherein the latter has sought to appropriate divine nature or attributes to what is in Nietzsche’s famous phrase, human, all too human. Although Kant’s “kingdom of ends” formulation of his categorial imperative looks a lot like Jesus’s Golden Rule, for example, offending rational beings by treating them only as means to one’s own goals is distinct from offending God by violating the divine command of universal benevolence, or “neighbor love,” which is Jesus’s second commandment, which is like unto the first (i.e., to love God). Having probably just now lost, or “blown away,” just about every normal reader, I want to illustrate my point of distinguishing the ethical from the theological by analyzing pertinent comments made by Pope Leo, the first Midwestern (Illinois) pope, in April, 2026.

Referring to the war inflicted on Iran by the U.S. and the state of Israel, the pope referred to the “delusion of omnipotence.”[1] The pope could have been referring to the hubris of power that had fueled Israel’s Netanyahu into the delusion that committing a holocaustic genocide against the people of Gaza was a just and proportional reaction to the attack by Hama in which only about 1,200 Israelis died. The prime minister even said that Israel’s deity had been good in helping Israel in being able to inflict a Nazi-level of atrocity on the Gazans. The ease with which a human is willing to hurt other humans is indeed troubling; to bring a deity into the equation in a favorable light, as the U.S. Secretary of Defense did on the U.S. attacks on Iran and Netanyahu did on Gaza surely must boggle the mind of any rational or genuinely religious person.

The pope’s deliberate use of the word, omnipotence, was no accident, for that word denotes a uniquely divine attribute that human beings do not have because none of us is all-powerful. Relative to a Creator, any creature is of relative power. It is not as though the vast majority of us are under the delusion; some people with low self-esteem even become sexually aroused by having their limited power showcased by a dominating sex-partner as if being intentionally harmed and even humiliated were deserved. People who set aside a room as a dungeon may even crave powerlessness relative to the power of another person, which is just as problematic in its own way because we are all made in the image of God and thus are worthy of some self-love. Even though we are far from omnipotent, we creatures are nonetheless worthy of being loved. It is out of love for the self-deprived dungeon-lovers that efforts can be made to help them out of their plight so they feel comfortable in their own limited, justified power and thus come to love themselves. Guiding a person into the light of healthy self-love and away from the darkness of selfishness and self-inflicted pain without any benefit to oneself evinces genuine love consistent with Christian agape. Our species is indeed capable of other-regarding, selfless love, which is antipodal and thus antithetical to self-centered love, which is actually selfish greed.  

Whereas the Jansenist Pierre Nicole wrote scathingly of self-love, Augustine had maintained that self-love of the image of God within is salubrious theologically. Such self-love is not that to which Pope Leo referred when he said of the warmongers waging war against Iran, “Enough of the idolatry of self and money! Enough of the display of power! Enough of war!”[2] The pope was trying to guide President Trump away from selfish self-love to love as benevolentia universalis. The idolatry of self is the placing of oneself above love directed to God. Such misordered concupiscence enables monetary and political greed and even war as a way of obtaining more, the love of which is the definition of greed.

Both “omnipotence” and “idolatry” are distinctively theological, or religious, words; they are not in the lexicon of ethics because the words are sourced or related back to the divine, which transcends the created realm, whereas ethical principles do not unless they are part of a divine command. This is precisely the decisive way in which the theological is distinct from the ethical. Put another way, God’s omnipotence (i.e., being all-powerful) means that God cannot be limited to one of our ethical theories or principles unless God itself has commanded them. As sure as we may be that our ethical principles are solid, they are not eternal in themselves. Rather, they are manmade. As such, they are of the created realm unless they are commanded by God. To insist nonetheless that religion reduces to ethical principles, as Unitarian Universalists typically have done since the 1970s, is thus to engage in self-idolatry.

In his remarks, the Roman Catholic pope was proffering a snapshot of the idolatry and the related delusion that distinguish warmongers far from the divine. A Nietzschean pathos of distance separates the bullies from a deity of compassion and self-giving, agape love. I’m sure the pope would appreciate being backed up by Nietzsche, the author of The Anti-Christian whose father and grandfather were Lutheran ministers, but the pope and I are fellow native Midwesterners from Northern Illinois so I’m sure he would forgive me in the very unlikely event that he reads this essay—though whereas he is a White Sox fan, I am an avid Cubs fan, but no one—not even a pope—is perfect.  Hence the distinction between the creature and the Creator! To obfuscate the two, or, even worse, to put ourselves above the condition of being and reality, is superbia writ large—nothing less than arrogance on stilts during a sell-deserved flood—in the bloated self-love of self-idolatry in contradistinction to selfless love even and especially for those who reject us, for even children of lesser gods share in being (God being perfect being) and thus, according to Leibniz, deserve to be loved in spite of themselves. If the pope was placing Trump and Netanyahu in their place, as situated relative to God rather than to their own hyper-egos, out of love rather than just anger (which would be justified), then the pope could get a sense of God’s perspective, albeit limited as per the perspective of a mere creature. I hope I have demonstrated why this is qualitatively different than the adoption of a distinctly ethical perspective, which in turn is human, all too human.


Monday, March 30, 2026

Pope Leo Denounces Warmongers

With Easter, 2026, taking place amid the holocaustic genocide in Gaza, Russia’s ongoing invasion of Ukraine, and the U.S./Israel attacks against Israel, Pope Leo used the occasion to speak out against war, and those who benefit politically and by profiting from war. The pope’s absolute rejection of war included excoriating Christians who had been using theological rationales to justify war. Although not in the pope’s field of vision at the time, such Christians have included the popes who had perpetuated four crusades—the last of which was waged against Constantinople (i.e., eastern Christians)—in Medieval European Christendom. The implication is that Jesus did not hear the prayers of those militarized Christians who thought they were defending Jesus and his Church.

The pope’s Easter message against war was unequivocal: “This is our God: Jesus, King of Peace, who rejects war, whom no one can use to justify war.”[1] Compassion towards detractors and even enemies is antipodal to war, and thus the pope’s condemnation was indeed on solid ground. What are we to make, therefore, of the Catholic just war rationales? If Jesus rejects war, then even a war that is just is included in the rejection. Besides being a problem for Catholic social-ethics theory, should Jesus’s preachment of compassion for the Nazis as they committed genocide against Slavs, Jews, Communists, and other societal undesirables stand up against the just-war rationale to invade Germany to stop the wholesale slaughter? Asked about how India should have reacted to a Nazi invasion, Gandhi answered in line with the pope’s condemnation by saying that people should stand in non-violent resistance on India’s borders. Would Jesus agree? His distancing of himself from the Zealots in the Gospels may suggest that he would not join the armed resistance to the Nazis. His kindness to the Roman soldiers suggests that he would have compassion for individual Nazis in spite of their atrocities.

So in the wake of the pope’s condemnation of war, Catholic just-war theory may need to be revised. The pope also claimed that Jesus ignores the prayers of Christians who support or wage war. This would include even the prayers of Christians who were supporting Israel because of its role as a precondition for Jesus’s Second Coming even as Israel was committing crimes against humanity against the people of Gaza with impunity. Whether taking back Jerusalem for Jesus in the Middle Ages or enabling a genocidal government in the twenty-first century so Jesus could return, such rationales are ignored by the Christian deity.

The presumption that even positions that are antithetical to Jesus’s preachments in the Gospels are in some way Christian nonetheless reveals the susceptibility of the human mind to going too far without any self-check mechanism in the domain of religion. Faced with Christians who were looking the other way as Israel was committing a genocide, Jesus would probably retort that his second coming is in the righteous suffering of the Gazan people who were not guilty of having attacked Israel in 2023. He would no doubt apply his condemnation of the Jewish religious leaders in the Gospels to Netanyahu and his government, with something like, They still don’t get it, but even such a guttural condemnation does not go far enough, for the principle of selfless love even and especially against people we don’t like (and even hate) is in need of loudspeakers in being pronounced to be the way into the Kingdom of God in this life. Defending Jesus and protecting the way for the Second Coming, especially if by violence, pale in comparison to that principle, which can stand on its own without any anthropomorphism.



[1] Joshua McElwee, “Pope Leo Says God Rejects Prayers of Leaders Who Wage Wars,” Reuters.com, March 29, 2026.


Friday, March 27, 2026

Religion Overreaching: Euthanasia

The Nazi program of inflicting euthanasia on the severely mentally ill in the twentieth century can be distinguished from cases in which suffering people with incurable diseases desire to die voluntarily sooner rather than later. In cases in which such people are mentally ill, the question is more complex, especially if the cause of the suffering is mental. In 2026, the Roman Catholic Church castigated a court ruling allowing the euthanasia of a mentally-ill person whose suffering stemmed in part from severe bodily pain and an incurable diagnosis other than that of the mental illness. Ironically, the Church discounted the element of compassion in putting someone out of one’s misery that would only get worse, and instead focused on “the culture of death” even though Jesus is silent on that issue, as well as homosexuality and abortion, in the Gospels. This is a case, I contend, of religion overstepping onto another domains—ethics and medicine in particular—while shirking its native fauna.  

On March 27, 2026, 25-year-old Noelia Castillo died by euthanasia in the E.U. city of Barcelona. A court had sided with her decision to end her life voluntarily “because she suffered from a serious and incurable condition, with severe and chronic suffering.”[1] By this description, I assume that the condition was not that of mental illness even though the latter played a role in how she came to have the condition of such physical pain. So even though Noelia had “struggled with psychiatric illness since she was a teenager, and tried taking her life twice,” the second time (after she had been sexually assaulted) leaving her unable to use her legs, the severe and chronic suffering can be distinguished from her psychiatric suffering.[2] So even though her judgment may have been clouded by her psychiatric illness, the court could use a reasonable-person basis to assess whether the suffering from the non-psychiatric condition was enough to justify euthanasia. To be sure, if the incurable aspect refers to not being able to use her legs rather than a mortal illness, the court’s ruling could be criticized because future advances in medical science could potentially relieve her suffering and even restore the use of her legs, especially given her young age and the advances that would be possible in her lifetime. On the other hand, the combination of psychiatric and physical pain and suffering could be sufficient to justify Noelia’s early death out of sheer compassion. In this respect, the Church’s reaction can be criticized by drawing on the salient of compassion associated with Jesus in the Gospels.

Luis Arguello, president of the Spanish Bishops’ Conference, said, “A doctor cannot act as the executioner for a death sentence, however legal, empowering or compassionate it may appear.”[3] The hyperbolic language of executioner and death sentence aside, the bishop’s claim that the compassion motivating euthanasia is merely apparent rather than actual can be countered by the fact that compassion does apply to relieving especially severe, unrelenting physical pain that is expected to continue for the rest of a person’s life. That advances in medical science could mean that the continuance-assumption can be questioned does not nullify my claim that compassion to relieve suffering, whether one’s own or that of another person, is authentic rather than merely apparent.

Also problematic, the organization Christian Lawyers put out the following statement: “If deliberately caused death is the solution to problems, then anything goes.”[4] It does not follow, however, that if euthanasia is the solution to some but not any problem, then anything goes ethically. In other words, euthanasia, which follows prescribed guidelines, does not imply nor lead to ethical relativism. The latter holds that if a cultural norm exists in a society, then that is enough to validate the norm ethically.

The reference to relativism, moreover, exemplifies the tendency of religion to overreach into another domain, in this case ethics. At the very least, relating euthanasia to relativism requires some study of ethical theory, which is an academic field distinct from theology. Nor does theology include societal analysis (which in turn is distinct from the field of ethics because norms are not ethical principles). So in making the claim, “we have all failed as a society,” regarding the euthanasia case, Bishop Perez was overreaching from the domain of religion and thus can be reckoned as a dilatant.[5]



1. Jesus Maturana and Cristian Caraballo, “Catholic Church Criticises Noelia Castillo’s Death by Euthanasia, Saying Society Failed,” Euronews.com, 27 March, 2026.
2 Ibid.
3. Ibid.
4. Ibid.
5. Ibid.

Friday, March 6, 2026

Transcending Caritas in Romantic Love

During the High Middle Ages, Troubadour poetry composed primarily in southern Europe included themes including of courtly love, which became associated with marriage. Before then, that institution was associated mostly with property and progeny rather than with romantic love. Interestingly, it was just as love was becoming associated with marriage when the Roman Catholic Church ended its centuries-old gay-marriage liturgy, which, sans property and progeny, was uniquely associated with love (for why else would gays marry?). The irony is that “modern” gay marriage in the West in the twenty-first century may have more to do with sex than love in the sex-centric gay culture, though obviously gays are fully capable of genuine love that transcends such superficialities as lust, especially squalid lust that is distended in “open” relationships sans commitment. Indeed, married gays in loving, committed relationships even raise children in loving homes. Although utterly obscene to more conservative folks, such “mixed families” grounded in love warrant respect and even admiration for being based in genuine love, whereas the sex-centric approach to “relationships” in the gay “culture” justly warrants condemnation for being superficial, short-sighted, and utterly self-centered. Yet, whether gay or heterosexual, romantic love need not be selfish. The distinction in Christian theology between caritas and agape is relevant in making this point.


The full essay is at "Transcending Caritas in Romantic Love."

Thursday, February 19, 2026

Dominion: Prequel to the Exorcist

Decades before dying while doing battle with the demon possessing Regan NacNeil in The Exorcist (1973), Rev. Lankester Merrin successfully extracts the same demon from a young man in Kenya. An African chief (or medicine man) tells Merrin at the end of Dominion: The Prequel to the Exorcist (2005) that he has made a rather bad enemy of the demon, which was not done with the priest. We know from The Exorcist that the demon will eventually kill the priest, but that is by no means the final word on a distinctively religious battle because in that domain, the human soul is eternal rather than necessarily tethered to a corporeal body. It is important, moreover, not to reduce religion to one of its aspects, or, even worse, to the stuff of any other domain, including the supernatural. Dominion reduces Christianity to one belief-claim and relies on supernaturalism to validate the religious phenomena in the film.


The full essay is at "Dominion: Prequel to the Exorcist."

Friday, December 26, 2025

The Scarlet and the Black

In the film, The Scarlet and the Black (1983), Gregory Peck and Christopher Plummer face off as Monsignor Hugh O’Flaherty and Col. Herbert Kapper at the end of the film when the Nazi head of police in Rome abruptly changes his tune in challenging the Catholic priest no longer by threats, but by appealing to the priest’s faith of humble compassion applied even to one’s enemies so O’Flaherty will extend mercy to Kapper’s wife and children, who would otherwise fall into the hands of the Allied troops advancing into Rome. Before that dialogue, O’Flaherty and Pope Pius XII subtly debate whether the pope had been right in compromising with Hitler in order to keep the Catholic Church intact in Nazi Germany. The film can thus be viewed in light of the potential of the medium of film to convey and even thrash out contending theological ideas.


The full essay is at "The Scarlet and the Black."

Thursday, December 25, 2025

Pope Leo’s First Christmas Message: On International Relations

That severe, systematic inflictions of suffering on whole peoples were going on in the world even on Christmas Day in 2025 did not require a papal announcement for people the world over to be informed of those atrocities. Russia’s military incursion in Ukraine and Israel’s genocide in Gaza had been going on with international impunity for years. The suffering in Yemen and Sudan was less well-known, but substantial nonetheless. Speaking out against the sordid state-aggressors on the first Christmas of his pontificate, the pope provided an alternative basis for international relations that is so antithetical to military invasion and genocide that the message could seem utopian and thus practically of no use whatsoever. Because “might makes right” had made such unimpeded “progress” even in becoming the default and status-quo, the principle of humble compassion to the humanity to one’s detractors and even outright enemies could seem like a fairy tale. 

Nevertheless, even though the principle was so utterly eclipsed in practice on the world’s stage at the time, a person can have faith that even enunciating the alternative has value. At the very least, making it explicit shows powerful people such as Russia’s Putin and Israel’s Netanyahu in an especially dark light. Ironically, were either of those men to come to terms with themselves and change their ways, the principle would call the rest of us to forgive them. Even absent such a change-of-heart, or a dawning of heart in those two men, the principle mandates that the rest of us respond in humane compassion even to those two men on an interpersonal level should either of them need help. Such is the depth of power of the principle that it can be reckoned as inculcating what can be called divine nature even if the principle is not anthropomorphized in human form; the principle has validity, and thus value, in itself. So even if it seems utterly unrealistic for it to become the default in international relations (and even interpersonal relations), there is value in the pope’s inclusion of the principle in his first Christmas message.

In his Christmas Day homily, Pope Leo “remembered the people of Gaza, ‘exposed for weeks to rain, wind and cold’ and the fragility of ‘defenseless populations, tried by so many wars,’ and of ‘young people forced to take up arms, who on the front lines feel the senselessness of what is asked of them, and the falsehoods that fill the pompous speeches of those who send them to their deaths.’”[1] The infliction of genocide, and even such suffering as to qualify as a holocaust, on a defenseless civilian population that had been subjugated for many decades, render Israel’s Netanyahu government and its supports equivalent to the Nazis in Europe almost a century earlier. The very language used by the pope, as in “the pompous speeches of those who send them to their deaths” could definitely be applied to Hitler and Netanyahu.

The sheer depravity of such powerful men who have allowed their respective hatreds to manifest in atrocities without any internal restraint is antipodal to a person who “would truly enter into the suffering of others and stand in solidarity with the weak and the oppressed.”[2] It is paradoxical that such outwardly powerful, militaristic government officials are actually so weak internally, whereas people who are willing to defer “before the humanity of others”—even and especially detractors and even enemies—may have no worldly force yet are very strong internally.[3] 

Therefore, it is of value for anyone, especially a pope with a microphone, to set the stubborn savagery of men like Putin and Netanyahu relative to a principle that, if internalized and acted on by enough people, would change the world even though the likelihood of such a drastic, fundamental change is only possible rather than probable. Being possible is itself astonishing, given the fixity of human nature. Worldwide, peoples and their respective government officials in 2023 failed to retain the lesson that had presumably been learned when the Nazi holocaust was exposed in 1945. Standing by rather than going in to rid Gaza of the Israelis and even Ukraine of the Russian army can be reckoned as instantiating the banality of evil, which is two degrees of separation from the principle of humble compassion for the humanity of others, especially one’s enemies. The world, and humanity itself—our species—can thus be condemned for standing by instead of stopping at least the holocaustic genocide that had been going on for years as of Christmas, 2025.



1. Silvia Stellacci and Colleen Barry, “Pope Leo XIV Urges the Faithful on Christmas to Shed Indifference in the Face of Suffering,” APnews.com, December 25, 2025.
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid.

Monday, December 22, 2025

Divine Presence in Liturgy and Compassion

The medium of film can treat organizational, societal, and global ethical problems either from one standpoint, which is appropriate if the assignment of blame for immoral conduct is clear (e.g., the Nazis), or by presenting both sides of an argument so to prompt the viewers to think about the ethically complex problem. This second approach is useful if it is not clear whether a character or a given conduct is unethical. When it is obvious which characters or actions are unethical, a film can still stimulate ethical reasoning and judgment by drawing attention to unethical systems as distinct from individuals and their respective conduct in the film. The film, Spotlight (2015), which is a true story, takes the position that Roman Catholic priests who molested and raped children in the Boston Archdiocese in Massachusetts behaved ethically. The dramatic tension in the film is set up when the chief editor of the Boston Globe, Liev Schreiber, tells the paper’s investigative “spotlight” managers that the story will not go to press until the system that enabled Cardinal Law and others to cover up many child-rapist priests by transferring them to other parishes is investigated. “We’re going after the system,” Liev says in keeping the story under wraps until the entire informal system that has enabled the rapists to continue to lead parishes.  


The full essay is at "Spotlight."

Sunday, December 7, 2025

Hope Gap: A Critique of Institutional Religion

Organized or institutional religion as the Roman Catholic Church is in the background in the 2019 European film, Hope Gap. Even with such names as Grace and Angela, religious connotations are present. In fact, the film can be interpreted, at least in part, as a critique on religion in general and Catholicism in particular. The medium of film can indeed play a vital role in critiquing sacred cows from the vantagepoint of an oblique angle or a safe distance.


The full essay is at "Hope Gap."

Saturday, November 15, 2025

Pope Leo on the Cinema: A Distinctively Religious Role?

As “part of the Vatican’s efforts to reach out beyond the Catholic Church to engage with the secular world,” Pope Leo spoke with actors and directors on November 15, 2025 about the ability of film “to inspire and unite.”[1] He spoke to the filmmakers about film itself as an art, and what it can do socially. What it can do in a distinctively religious sense was oddly left out. I submit that leaving out how film can contribute to spirituality wherein a transcendent is explicitly included, while instead discussing the social functions of film not only limits the potential of film, but also ironically marginalizes a significant potential of film ironically in the pope’s own field.

Speaking generically about the medium of film, Pope Leo stated that it “articulates the questions that dwell within us, and sometimes, even provokes tears that we didn’t know we needed to shed.”[2] There is nothing distinctively religious or spiritual about these features of movies. Two of the pope’s favorite movies, “Ordinary People” (1980), which was filmed in the pope’s hometown, Chicago, and “Life is Beautiful” (1997) are known for their psychological aspects: a family dealing with one son’s suicide and another family dealing with the Nazis in Europe. In fact, neither film includes anything religious or spiritual. Admittedly, since the works of Sigmund Freud were published, it has been tempting in Western culture to reduce religion to psychology, or to conflate the two distinct domains if they were the same. The increasing secularizing of North America and Europe in the twentieth century no doubt played a role in reconfiguring religion as it were isomorphic with another domain. Had the faculty and librarians at Harvard, including Larry Summers and Ben Friedman (both economists), not been so rude and even brazenly passive aggressive toward me while I was conducting research there on the category mistake by pulling the weeds out of the religious garden to find what lies underneath as the native fauna distinct to religion, I might have written a treatise on religion sui generis. At a certain age, however, a person can simply ask oneself, do I really want to contribute to the American academic academy? But I digress.

In his talk, the pope went so far as to make a political or cultural statement regarding the ability of film to not merely console, but also challenge people by including marginal voices. In its “noblest sense,” he said, the “popular art” of motion pictures is “intended for and accessible to all.”[3] Rather than urging theater-owners to charge poor people less, the pope was advocating that different points of view, presumably on social, economic, and even political matters, be included in screenplays. To be sure, such a function of film—to widen popular debates to include more perspectives—would be of great value to a society, given the phenomenon of “group-think,” which George Orwell discusses in his book, “1984,” and the self-interested strategies of business and political elites to artificially narrow what is debated to keep truly challenging perspectives from being aired.

Nevertheless, a religious leader overreaches in putting such an emphasis on secular, ideological concerns, including “affirming the social and cultural value” of people watching movies together in a movie theater without mentioning that high ticket prices keep out the poor and so they should instead be watching movies alone, assuming they have laptops and wifi. That the advent of computer technology has made an expensive ticket at a movie theater optional suggests that the pope’s nostalgia in addressing filmmakers in 2025 was partial, as is the case with any ideology. That he inadvertently put unneeded pressure on poor and even lower middle-class people to pay steep ticket-prices so they can be included in “uniting” with other people merely in being in a dark room together reacting similarly to scenes in a movie, supports my point that he should have stayed with his knitting, which is a saying in the book, In Search of Excellence by Peters and Waterman, whose main point is that companies should stick to what they are good at, rather than wander off in a Zhuangzian fashion into other lines of business to get more in profits as a Mohist would.  

The pope’s focus on matters that were not directly in his forte not only rendered him subject to correction, but also came with an opportunity cost in terms of the foregone benefit that a talk on the potential of film in theology or spirituality would have had instead. Even in saying that “It’s a Wonderful Life” (1946) and “The Sound of Music” (1964) were two of his other favorite films, the pope did not mention films among his favorites that are centered on religion, and even more surprisingly absent, on the Gospels in particular, such as “The Greatest Story Ever Told” (1965), “The Passion of the Christ” (2004), “Jesus” (1999), “The Last Temptation of Christ” (1988), “King of Kings” (1961), and even “The Nativity Story” (2006), "Mary" (2024), and “Ben-Hur” (1959). “Jesus of Nazareth” (1977), albeit a television mini-series though with an astounding cast, was undoubtedly formative for the pope, as he was a college student when the show first aired. I remember well watching that limited series as a boy. As a college student then, the pope would not have missed such a series.  I remember what the very religious college students in the years soon after the pope had graduated; they were very focused on their religious faith. One Baptist student curiously in ROTC used to come (uninvited) sometimes into my dorm room while I was studying at night to pray for me because my roommate was an evangelical Christian. This was nothing compared to the Calvinist cult I would encounter at Yale’s divinity school and then the “woke” cult at Harvard’s divinity school. But I digress (again).

I contend that Pope Leo missed an opportunity in 2025 to address filmmakers about how film can address theology, as well as related though distinct things like metaphysics, the supernatural, science, and morality. For example, theology in terms of two different interpretations of the Kingdom of God is salient in the film, “Mary Magdalene” (2018), especially when Mary and Peter debate two very different yet valid interpretations of what the Kingdom of God is. The question of the woman’s place among the disciples is an element of the film, but as Mary and Jesus are not romantically or sexually but only spiritually close, the feminist angle between Mary and the rest of the disciples is kept secondary. For the pope to have highlighted that angle, his take on contemporary culture could have eclipsed distinctly theological questions regarding the Kingdom of God. Even the Catholic Church’s stance against women becoming priests is not theological, and the closeness of Mary to Jesus in the film, plus The Gospel of Mary Magdalene, can inform that Church’s stance on that issue. But I digress (again).

Besides theology in and through film, how a character’s experience of distinctly religious (or spiritual) transcendence can be acted and depicted in a film visually would have been an excellent topic for the pope’s talk. That films have effectively portrayed two different realms, even simultaneously as in the film, “The Others" (2001), in a secular, otherworldly context, means that the medium of film could do a lot more when it comes to visually and verbally hinting at a distinctively religious or spiritual transcendent, which can be grasped (to a point) as something that is inherently beyond the limits of human cognition, perspective, and emotion.[4] Ironically, religious leaders may be most useful in speaking to a secular audience by highlighting how the domain of religion is distinct, rather than in trying to be influential in secular, ideological terms. Pope Leo should have stuck to his knitting, for the potential of the art and medium of film in depicting spiritual and institutionally-religious matters is great, and on this point I most certainly do not digress.



1. Nicole Winfield, “Pope Leo XIV Celebrates Cinema with Hollywood Stars and Urges Inclusion of Marginal Voices,” APNews.com, November 15, 2025.
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid.
4. I am drawing here on the work of Pseudo-Dionysus, a late 6th century Christian theologian who stressed the ineffability of God.