Showing posts with label war. Show all posts
Showing posts with label war. Show all posts

Saturday, June 27, 2026

Russian Patriarch Kirill: A Case of Religion Overreaching

The political separation of “Church and State” in U.S. constitutional law, a doctrine that is of jurisprudence (judicial decision) rather than theology and thus does not straddle and therefore demarcate the political and religious domains as qualitatively distinct from a neutral standpoint. Furthermore, the question of what makes the religious domain distinct (and unique) from all others is the pole from which a religious functionary’s (or religionist) leap into the political garden from the Garden of Eden can be detected. The trouble worsens if the criteria from one domain in imposed and overlaid in the overreaching into another domain, as if the criteria that is determinative in one domain were valid in another. In fact, the eclipsing itself of the other’s own criteria on their own “turf” is unethical. The legitimate sovereignty of a domain’s own criteria in that domain over criteria indigenous to other domains yet superimposed renders any supervening overreaching as both erroneous—as in going off-sides in football (soccer)—and unethical because the criteria indigenous to a given domain should not be disrespected within their own domain. In other words, encroaching is presumptuous. If these ideas strike the reader as novel, even strange perhaps, then I am keeping within the confines of my mission in writing, as I look to a new dawn in which the ideational tyranny of hitherto reigning yet questionable assumptions ist zerstört because they have been discredited, which is not to say that every extant assumption should be eviscerated and expunged for lack of substance. Unfortunately, Russia’s Patriarch Kirill, the head of Russia’s Orthodox Church, went out on a tree limb, far from his religious tree’s trunk, by formulating and spreading “revisionist propaganda to justify the war in Ukraine” while the invasion was underway.[1] The history and legitimacy of a bygone Russian empire (not the U.S.S.R.) properly belong to the political rather than to the religious domain. Being schooled in theology does not give even a high religious functionary the knowledge on which to presume to be an expert in political history and international relations. The resentment in the E.U. and U.S. at the patriarch’s intrusion into a domain that is not an extension of the religious domain was not merely from opposition to Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, but also from an intuitive sense that the domains of religion/theology and politics/government are distinct and thus require different knowledge-sets and have their own respective criteria and distinctiveness.

In late June, 2026, agreement in the E.U. on “the 21st package of European Union sanctions against Russia” remained “mired in difficult, with multiple obstacles and the public threat” of a veto by the E.U. state of Bulgaria in the European Council, where the proposed law had to pass unanimously or else fail to be enacted.[2] Bulgaria’s governor, Rumen Radev, “publicly announced his opposition to sanctioning Patriarch Kirill” with “a travel ban and an asset freeze.”[3] Both the Bulgarian Orthodox Church and the Russian Orthodox Church “belong to the Eastern Orthodox Church, share the same faith and dogma, and are bound by cultural and historical ties.”[4] Radev’s rational is political rather than theological, however, as would be the proposed sanctions against the patriarch, who had overstepped from the theological onto the political domain in justifying the Russian government’s war even if he drew on theological doctrines in making the political statement on the war. Had Kirill restrained himself to “coloring within the lines” of theology proper, he would not have been vulnerable in the political domain.

Especially in Christianity, where Christ’s preachment, give what is Caesar’s unto Caesar, is a salient reminder that distinctively religious transcendence does not bother with politics, Kirill’s political ideology can be likened in the Gospels to the Jewish Zealots whose cause Jesus does not take up because that political movement is antipodal to  the religious preachment to love thy enemy. It is fitting, therefore, that Pope Leo had recently been implicitly invalidated even Catholic just-war “theory” by stating that Jesus would not be in favor of fighting in any war. From the perspective of the political domain, Jesus of the Gospels may appear, at a distance, as a mystic whose teachings pertain to a kingdom not of this world. This is not to say that a distinctly religious message cannot have political implications, even dire ones, as per Jesus in the Gospel narratives, but to say that something that is in one distinct domain has an effect in another domain is not to say that the “something” is in the other domain. Kirill went into the political domain in formulating and spreading pro-war propaganda and thus lost hold of that which makes the religious domain unique and distinctive. In other words, he went too far out on a branch and fell into another property without bothering to acknowledge that he was then in another, qualitatively different domain with its own criteria.

Crucially, the political domain is based on this realm, whereas, as Pseudo-Dionysius wrote, the divine transcends the limits of human cognition, perception, and sensibility (emotion). Whereas the political domain is compatible with humanism, religious transcendence, having a transcendent reference point (e.g., God), is not based in, and thus limited to our realm, which is in the principle of possibility within the limits of human conception, perception, and sensibility. The two domains—the political and the religious—are thus qualitatively different. To remake the latter too much of this realm is to deny the radical transcendence that renders the religious domain unique. In depicting the Kingdom of God in overt political terms wherein social, economic, and political inequalities are treated as the problem and the Kingdom as a particular political-economic system, or structure, Liberation Theology risks denying the distinctly religious transcendence that is in the kingdom preached by Jesus in the Gospels. No where in those stories does Jesus design an equitable economic system, for his Father’s kingdom is of the heart rather than political economy. Similarly, Jesus does not justify the Roman, or any other empire, for his orientation is to reverting hearts back to God. Kirill’s attempt to justify the Russian empire from a Christian standpoint can thus be regarded not only as dogmatic in the sense of being arbitrary, but also besides the point, lying in another domain of human experience.

At a basic level, the religious domain can be said to be unique, and thus distinct from other domains qualitatively rather than just by degrees of difference, because of the transcendent basis that is not based within our realm wherein we think, perceive, and feel. The experience of religious transcendence is thus unique. Kirill strayed from this by climbing so far out on a tree branch (limb) that he fell into someone else’s yard and started telling the people there how their game is properly to be played. Any player in the indigenous group there could not be blamed for exclaiming to the prelate, Excuse me? You don’t know how to play our game because it is taught only here, not where you come from. You are off-sides.



1. Jorge Liboreiro, “Oil, Cod, Kirill: Friction Points Emerge in New E.U. Sanctions Against Russia,” Euronews.com, 26 June, 2026.
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid.
4. 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.


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.

Sunday, December 15, 2024

Church of the Peripheries

One of the leitmotifs of the four Christian Gospels is the surprising value of peripheries even over people who are up front, whether politically, economically, socially, and even atop religious institutions. “The last are first, and (most of) the first are last” is a Biblical staple for Christians. In terms of compassion, the value being espoused here is consistent with Jesus’s preachment that compassion to one’s detractors and even sworn enemies is the way into the spiritual Kingdom of God, which, being within a person and between people in the spirit of inconvenient love/compassion, is at hand rather than pending Christ’s Second Coming. This point is dramatically made in the film, Mary Magdalene. It was also made in Pope Francis’s decision to skip the grand opening of Notre Dame in Paris and go instead to the French island of Corsica in December, 2024. In making this choice, the pope evinced distinctively Christian leadership, which can also be practiced by heads of governments and even CEOs.

Skipping an ornate state ceremony in Paris, Pope Francis went to a small Mediterranean island, “highlighting local traditions of popular piety on the one hand and migrant deaths and wars on the other.”[1] The symbolism of the trip thus goes beyond Corsica. “The Mediterranean is the backdrop of this trip, surrounded by situations of crisis and conflict,” Vatican spokesman Matteo Bruni, said.[2] The notion and value of compassion that is inconvenient is especially welcome in the context of suffering, and, indeed, a person who oneself has suffered greatly may be particularly inclined to redress hate in the world with compassion. This is much more valuable than meeting with the president of a country.

Hence, rather than meeting French President Macron at his palace, the pope was scheduled to “meet privately with Macron at the airport before departing . . . back to Rome.”[3] The first are last. “The pontiff pointedly did not make the trip to Paris . . . for the pomp surrounding the reopening of the Notre Dame Cathedral following the devastating 2019 fire.”[4] Rather than going to Paris, the pope went to an island whose population numbers only 340,000 people. As they had been embroiled in pro-independence violence, the context there was ripe for soothing, compassionate attention. Like a good shepherd who goes after a lost lamb so it would not be eaten by a wolf, a good pastor goes to the periphery where fear can be expected to eclipse happiness and contentment. A good pastor shirks the contentment of pomp and lavish display in order to go to a sparce periphery.

So too, Macron could have followed suit, assuming he values Jesus’s example, by not only venturing into the poor suburbs of Paris, but also giving Corsica its political independence instead of limited autonomy. The island is closer to Italy anyway. Lessening violence is worth more, I submit, than attending a highbrow grand opening of Notre Dame. Rather than worship the spurious crown of thorns that was returned to the cathedral just after its opening, a Christian following in the pope’s footsteps would be more inclined to evince inconvenient compassion not only to strangers, but, even more so, to people who have been rude, rejecting, and even hateful to oneself.

Benevolentia universalis is commonly thought to be the epitome of Jesus’s life and teaching on how to enter the Kingdom of God; I submit that something more—something even more difficult—is needed to usher in the Kingdom in the world, one person at a time.  Put another way, “the last are first” can be interpreted not only as going to the least rather than the first in society (and in a church!), but also as treating one’s detractors as the last in the sense of being the first in receiving one’s compassion and even love. This is in sync with self-sacrifice and the difficult exercise of free-will, and thus with agape, self-emptying love that is uniquely the epitome of divinity in Christianity, and thus the religion’s real presence. Even in ritual reality, which is qualitatively different than metaphysical reality, agape itself is the real-presence being ritually sought and received. Once ingested, it is for naught if it does not issue outward in compassion to the most difficult of people rather than just to compliant strangers.


1. Daniel Bellamy, “Francis Becomes the First Pope to Visit the French Island of Corsica,” Euronews.com, December 15, 2024.
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid.
4. Ibid., italics added.

Monday, April 3, 2017

On the Impact of the Mind’s Infallible Assumptions in Declarations of Religious Belief

In religious affairs, we don’t typically notice the sheer declarativeness in the assertions of belief. In passing, we don’t isolate the underpinning assumptions. We are all human beings relative to the divine, and yet distinctions within our ranks are asserted or declared to be so, even if implicitly. All too often, the human mind overreaches with impunity. Rarely are the leaps themselves the subject of attention and thus subject to critique. Much more commonly, the substance of the religious belief is noticed and debated. I submit that the assumptions typically involved in making religious statements—even the very nature of the declarative assertion—are more worthy of note on account of the human mind’s vulnerabilities that are rarely noticed, much less subject to rebuke.

Visiting a Hari Krishna temple, I found myself speechless when the preacher reminded me after his talk that my religious beliefs could be wrong, whereas his own could not be. Fully aware beforehand that my beliefs about anything can be wrong, I was more struck by the man’s assumption regarding his own beliefs—that they have the status of knowledge. This man’s mind vanquished the gap between belief and knowledge on account of another assumption: that his religious view is (based on) truth. The direct, unfiltered access to truth is the underlying assumption that relegates the point that the divine source is beyond the limits of human perception and cognition, and thus cannot be known. It is the nature of the religious mind’s assumptions and the supportive cognitive and emotional defense mechanisms that can be said to be in need of transparency.

Regarding the defense mechanisms, the man’s lack of awareness concerning his own behavior and the nature of his assumptions was striking. The insult at my expense—in that only my beliefs could be wrong—seemed to elude the religious man, such that his veneer of kindness, present nonetheless, had a rather strange quality. He also seemed unaware that his ad hominem attacks were insulting, not to mention unbecoming of a cleric. Regarding his cognitive assumptions, such as that he has direct access to truth whose source is transcendent, he lacked the basic awareness of self-contradiction. In particular, it is a self-contradiction to assert that human knowledge is beyond the limits of human cognition.

The lack of basic self-awareness in religious matters can easily enable hypocrisy. The Christian Crusades provide a good illustration of how a lack of awareness can take on a life of its own, occasioning grave sin under the rubric of salvation. The four Roman Catholic popes in the Crusades lured Christian men in Western Europe to fight the enemy by promising salvation. “But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”[1] That Jesus of the Gospels preaches love of enemies, even those who persecute Christians, was somehow lost on those pontiffs who were promising salvation for doing the opposite. If the popes regarded the Muslims as having stolen the Holy Land, the Christian response would arguably have been to give them additional properties, for “if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, hand over your coat as well.”[2] Fighting the enemy to take back the shirt is clearly anti-Christian, and yet four popes promised salvation to those Christian men willing to do the task. It is the pontiffs’ lack of awareness, cognitively speaking, of this rather basic hypocrisy that suggests that the human mind is actually rather vulnerable to cognitive lapses in the religious domain.

Given the severity of the lapses, presuming unfettered access to transcendent truth can be seen as yet another indication of the mind’s vulnerability. To use a loose analogy, consider the man who can barely see a nearby tree and yet insists not only that he can see the farmhouse in the distance but cannot be wrong about the color of the exterior paint! The rather basic fault in this man’s claim is somehow invisible in the religious domain, and yet is not salvation more important?

I submit that the human mind has great trouble grasping and holding onto the inherent mysteriousness in the religious transcendent—the divine object (e.g., a deity). Without being aware of itself in so doing, the mind leaps over the mystery in assuming inerrancy concerning that which goes beyond the limits of cognition and perception. It is much easier to be wrong about such an object than the color of a distant farmhouse, and yet the human mind tends to assume the opposite is the case. Strangely, no one calls out the mind, least of all the mind itself.



1. Matt 5:44. NIV.
2. Matt. 5:40. NIV.

Saturday, June 14, 2014

Pope Francis on Youth Unemployment, War, and the Idolatry of Money

It is not often that the global economy’s military-industrial complex is tied to youth unemployment and, moreover, to the idolatry of money. Yet this is precisely the thread woven by the spiritual leader of the Roman Catholic Church. While the pope’s comments risk a certain overreach from the theological to the terrain of international political economy, which proffers its own body of knowledge, it can also be said that having a transcendent referent as one’s focus enables a person to make subtle taken-for-granted assumptions in our economic, social, and political systems transparent. In articulating an economic (and related political) center and giving it a distinctly theological interpretation stemming from the Biblical passage, “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also,”[1] the Roman pope provides the world with a way to do political economy from a distinctly religious vantage-point.

“At the center of all economic systems must be man, man and woman,” the pope asserts; “everything else must be in service to this man.[2] In itself, this claim is not religious in nature. Rather, the tone is philosophical, reminiscent perhaps of Kant’s “kingdom of ends” in which morality means respecting rational beings as objective ends in themselves, rather than only using them as means. For Kant, a lack of goodwill, due to pathology, lies behind the lack of adequate respect that would otherwise put people first—hence the need for public legal justice. This is not to say that Kant secularizes the matter completely; any rational creature is an end in itself “by virtue of the autonomy of his freedom he is the subject of the moral law, which is holy.”[3]  Using reason, the rational being is an assigner of value; such a being thus has absolute value (hence deserving to be treated as an end in itself, rather than merely a means to someone else’s agenda). Now a rational being is uniquely free to subject himself to his own law, which, given the necessity that lies in reason itself, binds him.  “The moral law is holy (inviolable),” Kant writes; “the humanity in his person must be holy to him.”[4] For Kant, the humanity is the rational nature, which makes the moral law sacred because reason cannot be bent out of sheer caprice. Put another way, rational beings have absolute value in that we use reason to hold ourselves as if by necessity (though freely) to that which we assign value to.

Pope Francis can be read as substituting love for reason—that men and women are made out of love, and thus inherently to be loved rather than used as mere means. Here we can discern glimpses of Leibniz’s claim that human beings are due love as a matter of justice as per the extent of being or existence that we have, and Augustine’s emphasis on caritas, or human love that can be sublimated to love of God.

Whereas Kant points to pathological self-love as thwarting the respect due beings of love, Pope Francis argues in terms similar to Aquina’s misordered concupiscence—placing a lower good above a higher one. “(W)e have put money at the center, the god of money,” the pope claims. “We have fallen into a sin of idolatry, the idolatry of money.”[5] Where your treasure is, there may be found your heart. In this case, money, which Aristotle calls barren metal, has come to be loved rather than other people, not to mention God, which as Augustine stresses, is love itself. The basic problem, in other words, is warped priorities.

Not surprisingly, greed is not far away, lying behind money as a god at the center of all. “The economy is moved by the ambition of having more.”[6] That ambition is an end in itself, so no amount of money is ever enough. Interestingly, we can distinguish ever-lasting here from the eternal; whereas love cuts through time in having value, greed is of infinite, or unlimited, desire. Value that cuts through time, such as holds with love, gets expunged by the all-consuming god of money. Put in Kantian terms, people are treated as mere means rather than also as ends in themselves.

It is no wonder that the young and old are tossed to the wayside because of their relatively low utility. Regarding youth unemployment, the pope had this to say. “(W)e are discarding an entire generation to maintain an economic system that can’t hold up anymore, a system that to survive must make war, as the great empires have always done.”[7] The system, being designed to funnel money, must be protected, and it is no accident that the people-as-means, or human resources, attribute so easily translates into an economy of war. Rather than being at the center, the human being is reduced to collateral damage, or targeted outright.

Because “a Third World War can’t be done, they make [regional] wars,” the pope explains.[8] This involves the production and sale of weapons, which sorts out “the balance sheets of the idolatrous economies, the great world economies that sacrifice man at the feet of the idol of money.”[9] Here the pope explicitly relates making money an idol of inviolable worth and sacrificing people as if they are worthless. Barren metal, in other words, is put over beings capable of holding themselves to a moral law and of loving themselves and others—even those who would sacrifice them on an altar of gold. Not unexpectedly, an international political economy oriented to sustaining an arms trade divides economies—even sorting them reductively along the lines of weapons production and consumption. The United States is a “superpower,” whereas Africa has value only in as much as it has the wherewithal to purchase weapons and sustain its intestine squabbles.

Once held up as a coming cacophony of diversity “like a polyhedron, all united but each preserving its particularity, its wealth, its identity,” globalization has become impoverished, “a sphere in which all points are equidistant from the center” whose sheer gravity “takes away the wealth of diversity of thought and therefore the wealth of a dialogue between peoples.”[10] That is to say, the reductionistic, weapons-oriented organizing principle of the global military-industrial complex saps globalization of its many differences, essentially nullifying this sort of wealth in favor of a more banal form in which the dark hole of a bank vault functions as a god with a suffocating embrace.

Beware the military industrial complex. U.S. President Eisenhower delivered this starkly public warning as he embraced some free speech in his farewell address in 1960. It is dangerous to have so much financial and related political interest lined up on the side of war. This is hardly unknown, yet we tolerate it because the interests of capital have beguiled us into supposing that they have labor’s back. In other words, we have been made to fear the onslaught of mass unemployment that would ensue from a structural realignment off the weapons trade. 

In his interview in 2014, Pope Francis takes a more subtler look at what is really at stake. Whereas historically religion and then morality operated as viable constraints on the profit motive, the god of money seems to have a relatively free hand as of the early twenty-first century at least; correspondingly, people are secondary, and thus expendable, in the system designed and inhabited by the same. Money has come to be regarded as an absolute, with the worth of persons being defined exclusively according to its measure. Put another way, the unit of measurement has become an end in itself—inviolable, and thus an idol—while the measurers—the assigners of value—have come to accept their place as mere means, or human resources. 

Living in the “system”— an artifice entirely changeable even in its basic contours—many people just assume that the constantly-felt subterranean, subtly existential instability or uncertainty is a necessary part of life. Life means being expendable. Life means that money rules. From a transcendental referent point, a spiritual person can see the world differently—atypically—and thus make transparent our systems’ basic premises. Once recognized, they can be changed; the changers can take back their innate power to set the priorities for the systems, whether they are social, economic, or political in nature, and to see to it that the designs are in sync with those priorities. Where our treasures are, there too are our gods.




[1] Luke 12:34; Matthew 6:21. Not being in Mark, the source is likely the book of Q (which stands for Quelle, or “source” in German), a book of Jesus sayings hypothesized to have been a source used by the writers of Luke and Matthew.
[3] Kant, Critique of Practical Reason (1788)
[4] Ibid.
[6] Ibid.
[7] Ibid.
[8] Ibid.
[9] Ibid.
[10] Ibid.