Saturday, 20 February 2016

Perpetual Adoration of the Blessed Host


I went with my friend Jeremy to St. Patrick’s Catholic Church, and paid a visit to the sanctuary containing the ostensorium of the Most Blessed Sacrament. It is open twenty-four hours to anyone who wishes to pray, meditate, and reflect. Jeremy had a code that enabled us to access the room. We walked in the room and knelt, careful not to disturb the elderly man meditating up at the front. My friend and I shuffled into the pew, and knelt on the bench. Jeremy began to pray next me, and it was there that I beheld the Blessed Host. I sat in silence; waiting, watching, gazing.
 The room itself is quite small. It was built for solitude (quite similar to a grotto, both in terms of how it feels, and its simplicity). Looking up at the back of the room, there were two objects that really caught my attention. The first was the Paschal Candle, symbolizing the presence of Christ. The second was the ostensorium containing the Most Blessed Host. The ostensorium itself is rather spectacular. I am not entirely sure about the materials used to make the ostensorium, but it really is quite a remarkable thing to behold. Its overall shape resembles that of a cross. At its center is the Host. Surrounding the Host are sharp sun-like rays. These rays are made out of silver and gold materials. It is also bejewelled, and consists of ruby coloured stones. At the top of the ostensorium is a small, elaborate, crucifix. I find it interesting how the host is so plain, yet it is contained in a vessel that is so exquisite. Perhaps this is supposed to help us reflect on the paradoxical nature of Jesus Christ, the king of kings among the “least of these”, as represented by the regal quality of the ostensorium and the simplicity of the Host. Nevertheless, my gaze kept shifting from the ostensorium to the Paschal Candle. I found it difficult to really concentrate on the ostensorium because the Paschal Candle had always been the object of mystery. The presence of Christ alive in the flame had always had an effect on my imagination. The flame dancing from side to side, delighting in its mystery, was spellbinding. Indeed, the flame was evocative of my childhood, especially my first memories of the Mass. I had always been enchanted by Jesus’ presence in the Paschal Candle. In a sense, it was a direct experience of the sacred. At that present moment, however, I was trying deliberately to bring my gaze back to the ostensorium. The light was shining down upon it, and I could feel a sense of equanimity beginning to emerge from the confines of my mind. Indeed, it was my sensorium responding to the beauty of the moment, as I knelt, gazing at the Blessed Host.

After several minutes, we decided that we had had enough of kneeling, and so we sat down in the pew. We sat there for quite some time. As I was gazing, my mind fluttered from thought to thought. My mind wandered to other places, and I thought of this lovely lady who I had earlier serenaded by the fountain on campus under the light of the moon. It appears the sacred has a way of revealing itself indirectly, and this was a perfect example of how one manifestation of the sacred accounts for another in the unconscious mind. Or perhaps I was merely allowing my mind to drift, and what I really needed was some more practice of the sacred gaze, in order to really be present in the practice of beholding. I spent some more time gazing at the ostensorium. At that point, I decided to pray, and I spent some time just reflecting and contemplating on the mystery at hand. We later decided to leave. It was a special time, and I am glad to have had that experience.

Thursday, 18 February 2016

Religion and Law as Systems of Order


The relationship between law and religion can be imagined as a dynamic intersection of culture, values, and ideas, that are formed by the various religious and legal traditions from which they emerge. They may be the result of social interaction and individual innovation, like the law that exists in a secular democracy, or they may be divinely inspired, such as in the case of divine law. They might be the source of conflict and violence, such as the Jim Crow segregation laws of the early twentieth century in the American Deep South, or they might instill a profound sense of justice, like the “rule of law” in the United Nations. Nevertheless, in order to grasp a better understanding of the intersection of law and religion, it might be worthwhile to consider what is meant by the terms “law” and “religion”. Do they exist as socially constructed categories? If they are socially constructed categories, then how do they differ? Are there essential characteristics that link them together? I argue that although religion and law occur and act differently depending on their particular manifestations in time and space, the most striking similarity between them is that they consist of ways of structuring the order of social and individual existence. Since religion and law both tend to share this characteristic they are often found converging in an intersection of culture, values, and ideas. I will begin by briefly reflecting on the influential and thought provoking ideas of Winnifred Fowler Sullivan, Talal Asad, Robert Covers, Ben Berger, and others.
 In order to engage with this question of the dynamic intersection of religion and law, it is useful to begin with some reflection on the meaning of these terms. How do we define law? According to Sullivan, “law, like religion, is a virtually universal feature of human society – law, that is, understood in its simplest sense, as the organizing structure for collective life”[1]. This statement is a fascinating account of the meaning of law. For Sullivan, the law is a means of establishing universal order. Similarly, Cover maintains that the law exists in a “nomos” or “normative universe”[2]. A normative universe is a universe of standards, norms, and structure. According to Cover, this normative universe consists of narratives[3]. These narratives legitimate and give value to the law as it exists in the normative universe. Cover introduces the notion of “jurisgenesis” or “the creation of legal meaning”[4]. Cover states that legal meaning is the result of narrative, the “story of how the law, now object, came to be, and more importantly how it came to be one’s own”[5]. The law is necessarily a process of jurisgenesis. Jurisgenesis is both the creation and destruction of the law as it is dealt with by individuals and groups in a legal process.
 Another significant factor in this analysis of law is the role of culture. Indeed, culture plays a significant role in the development of the narratives that form the normative universe. According to Berger, law is in itself a product of culture[6]. The law consists of history, a language, and a framework of ideas and values. For instance, although Canadian common law is grounded in the English legal tradition of common law from the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, Quebec retains a form of civil law rooted in the Napoleonic Code[7]. Hence, law is in itself a consequence of the intersection of history, culture, values, and ideas. As Cover asserts, “once understood in the context of narratives that give it meaning, law becomes not merely a system of rules to be observed, but a world in which we live”[8]. How then does religion fit into Cover’s equation of nomos and narrative? Is religion understood to be a part of the very narratives that actualize the law as a world in and of itself?
Religion is a term that requires deep reflection. Religion is a peculiar term. It appears to be mainly a “western” abstraction. As Armstrong points out, “in the west we see ‘religion’ as a coherent system of obligatory beliefs, institutions, and rituals, centering on a supernatural God, whose practice is essentially private and hermitically sealed off from all ‘secular’ activities”[9]. This western perspective tends to exclude other forms of expression that are considered to be religious and representative of “religion” by non-Western cultures[10]. Could there be a definition of religion that applies trans-historically, and cross-culturally? As Asad states in Genealogies of Religion, “there cannot be a universal historical definition of religion, not only because its constituent elements and relationships are historically specific, but because that definition is itself the historical product of discursive processes”[11]. Indeed, such a definition would necessarily be compromised by its own historical production. For instance, the eminent scholar Wilfred Cantwell Smith once defined religion as a network of symbols[12]. Smith’s definition of religion as symbols is perhaps too essentialist, as it fails to take into account the power relations that conceive of the symbols themselves. Smith’s definition risks confining religion to a particular perspective that perhaps militates a greater understanding of religion as something that is characteristically fluid and variable, but also subject to relations of power. Therefore, it seems that we are incapable of producing a single definition of religion that can encompass the great variety of religious modalities that exist across the space-time continuum. However, if religion cannot be contained by an all-encompassing category, then how could it ever be similar to law, defined by Sullivan and Cover as a universal category of ideas and values? Perhaps it is more appropriate to speak of religion in terms of its features and characteristics.   
One characteristic of religion is that it can provide people with a sense of order and structure. This is similar to Sullivan’s claim that law is the “organizing structure for collective life”. Indeed, there are various systems of religious legalism that attest to this assertion, such as Halakha in Judaism, Sharia in Islam, and Canon Law in Christianity. However, there is a subtler dynamic that enables religion to be a proponent of structure and order. This dynamic is found in ritual and ritual process. Ritual is “symbolic activity”[13] that acts as a medium of formation and individuation. The subject’s participation in a ritual forms a sense of identity. For example, people who receive the sacrament of baptism are officially recognized by the Catholic Church as a “members of Christ”[14]. Ritual, although not always exclusive to religion, plays a significant role in religion’s capacity to structure and organize social and individual reality. Therefore, religion functions similarly to the law in as much as it is concerned with the ordering and structuring of a particular reality.

Religion, for its part, is perhaps best understood in terms of what we can observe and interpret. Law, on the other hand, can be conceived of as a universal category. It is primarily concerned with structure and order. Law is subject to the legal process of jurisgenesis, and is the outcome of the interplay of history, culture, value and ideas. However, there is a parallel between religion and law, and this is the role of ritual. The ritual activity of religion is a way of structuring and organising reality. For this reason, religion and law share a common characteristic: the capacity to create systems of order and meaning. Perhaps, in the future, it would be worthwhile to consider the ritual component of law in the process of jurisgenesis. Nevertheless, the intersection of religion and law results in a dynamic convergence of culture, history, ideas, and values.












Works Cited
Armstrong, Karen. Fields of Blood: Religion and the History of Violence. New York, Toronto:
Alfred A. Knope, 2014.
Asad, Talal. Genealogies of Religion: Discipline and Reasons of Power in Christianity and
Islam. Baltimore, London: The John Hopkins University Press, 1993.
Berger, L. Benjamin. “Inducing Fundamentalism: Law As A Force In The Domain Of Religion.”
Canadian Diversity 9, no. 3 (2012): 25-28.
“Catechism of the Catholic Church.” Vatican. Accessed February 15, 2016. 
Cover, M. Robert. “Nomos and Narrative.” Harvard Law Review 97, no. 4 (1983): 4-68.
Smith, Wilfred Cantwell, Modern Culture from a Comparative Perspective. Albany: State
University of New York Press, 1997.
Sullivan, Winnifred Fallers “Reforming Culture: law and religion today.” In The Cambridge
Companion to Religious Studies, edited by Robert A. Orsi, 319-337. Cambridge, UK and
New York: Cambridge University Press, 2012.
“Where Our Legal System Comes From.” Justice. Last modified February 10, 2016.
http://www.justice.gc.ca/eng/csj-sjc/just/03.html.




[1] Winnifred Fallers Sullivan, “Reforming Culture: law and religion today,” in The Cambridge Companion to Religious Studies, ed. Robert A. Orsi (Cambridge, UK and New York: Cambridge University Press, 2012), 319.
[2] Robert M. Cover. “Nomos and Narrative,” Harvard Law Review 97, no. 4 (1983): 4.
[3] Ibid.
[4] Ibid., 11.
[5] Ibid., 45.
[6] Benjamin L. Berger, “Inducing Fundamentalism: Law As A Force In The Domain Of Religion,” Canadian Diversity, 9 no. 3 (2012): 25.
[7] “Where Our Legal System Comes From,” Justice, last modified February 10, 2016, http://www.justice.gc.ca/eng/csj-sjc/just/03.html.
[8] Cover, 4.
[9] Karen Armstrong, Fields of Blood: Religion and the History of Violence (New York, Toronto: Alfred A. Knopf, 2014), 4.
[10] Especially religious expressions that are considered by the western world to be violent and anti-democratic.  
[11] Talal Asad, Genealogies of Religion: Discipline and Reasons of Power in Christianity and Islam (Baltimore, London: The John Hopkins University Press, 1993), 29.
[12] Smith’s discussion of symbolism is profound. Wilfred Cantwell Smith, Modern Culture from a Comparative Perspective (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1997), 1.
[13] Asad, 55.
[14] “Catechism of the Catholic Church,” Vatican, accessed February 15, 2016,  http://www.vatican.va/archive/ccc_css/archive/catechism/p2s2c1a1.htm