What we think is the right road
It is the height of arrogance to think that we know right from wrong and good from evil. We may know right from wrong, for us; but we do not know it for others. We have no right to try to tell others what is virtuous and what is vicious, for those things depend upon the group involved or the time of the event. The only thing we can be sure of is that we don't know anything for sure. Everything depends upon time and space, and nothing is certain – except for death and taxes, of course!
But it's the wrong road
Once upon a time in U.S. history, the Know Nothing Movement comprised a group of 19th-century anti-Catholics who said they knew nothing about their aims and policies. Their descendants are evidently back in force. On many campuses today, one may easily find professors who claim not only that they know nothing – that appears to be a credible claim – but that nothing can be known. It gets worse, though: moral relativists are powerless in the face of evil, for they refuse to call it what it is.
As St. John Paul II told us in the encyclical "Evangelium Vitae": "We need now more than ever to have the courage to look the truth in the eye and to call things by their proper name." As the prophet Isaiah wrote: "Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness" (5:20). Philosopher J. Budziszewski of the University of Texas contends that there some things we cannot not know. In other words, there are some things written on our hearts (see, for example, Romans 2:14). The point is that atheism means not only that one denies God but that one denies Ultimate Truth, Ultimate Goodness and Ultimate Beauty. To the extent that anything holy exists, the practical atheist insists, he defines it, he determines it, he delimits it.
Ultimately, Catholic philosophers tell us, there is an Ultimate. If and when we reject God – who is the Ultimate – distinguishing between the sacred and the profane is up to us. It is the original sin, on steroids. And the belief only in the grand, imperial self is the beginning and end of much ethical reasoning today in the secular world. For us, as Catholics, the alpha and the omega of all that is noble and decent and kind and lovely is Christ (see Phil 4:8).
One can reasonably argue that the most important verse in the Bible lies in Job's soul-stirring declaration: "I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that in the last day I shall arise out of the earth" (19:25 DRB). With Job, we know that we are sinners in need of redemption which comes to us through the grace of a merciful God; with Job, we know that we live in and through Him; with Job, we know that we are destined for eternity; and, with Job, we know that God has defeated death. In the Bible, only a few pages after Job, we read in the Psalms about the evil man who "rejects God and does not have reverence for Him. Because he thinks so highly of himself, he thinks God will not discover his sin and condemn it. His speech is wicked and full of lies; he no longer does what is wise and good. He makes evil plans ... (and) nothing he does is good, and he never rejects anything evil" (36:1-4 GNB).
Get it wrong about a merciful and just God; get it wrong that we are called to obey His divine will; get it wrong that our peace is the fruit of conforming to His commands – and we destined to a life of moral chaos. So much around us today is the work not of light, but of darkness, because the Light of Christ has been rejected and ridiculed.
In the Extraordinary Form of the Holy Mass, there is almost always a reading of the "Last Gospel" in addition to an Epistle (or Lesson) and the Proper Gospel (a selection from Matthew, Mark, Luke or John). Right after the last blessing, there is a reading from St. John 1:1-14, which powerfully reminds us that the saving grace of Christ is our light, but "the world knew Him not." The "Last Gospel" testifies that Christ is full of grace and of truth. He is, as St. John Paul II once said, "the answer to the question that is every human life."
Job 19:25 points to John 1:1-14. Indeed, all of history points to John 1:1-14. Our own lives testify to the meaning and the nobility of John 1:1-14. St. John tells us that those who receive Christ become His sons and daughters – and they are not saved and they will not flourish because of secular power or because of their own will (1:13), but because God was born, suffered, died and was resurrected for us. One of the reasons we Catholics honor the cross and have a crucifix in our homes is to always remind us that there is a point to what we think and say and do; there is a purpose to our life and to our death; and ultimately, that there is an Ultimate who does not leave us morally rudderless, ethically bewildered or religiously uncertain.
We know something because we know Someone. The first thing we know is that our Redeemer liveth. Deo gratias!
Deacon James H. Toner serves at Our Lady of Grace Church in Greensboro.