CHAPTER VI

A CONTEMPORARY DEVELOPMENT OF JEN AND AGAPE AS THE CREATIVE POWER OF LOVE

SELF-CONCERN AND SELF-TRANSCENDENCE:  THE CONTEMPORARY PROBLEMATIC

            A dia lectic of the personal and the depersonalizing appears to be one of the paradoxes of recent experience. For a number of economic, educational and other reasons, the past decades have been marked in many parts of the world by a massive migration from the countryside into the towns and cities. At first it was thought that the size of the town and of the factory would relieve the personal pressures of village life, for when the obligation of a more extended family and the all-seeing eyes of the neighbors were remote, persons and families could be truly free. Tolerance understood in this passive manner as non-interference--or was it non-caring?--was considered desirable and, indeed, appears to have constituted no small attraction, drawing many young families to the city. In fact, however, the problems of life are never so easily solved. Upon reflection, it can be seen that the attempt to dispense with so basic a dimension of the person as his/her social character was doomed to failure, for it generated social dissatisfaction and deep loneliness--a living death.

            Further, the ever more close interaction of increasingly diverse peoples, which has characterized modernization, nation-building and urbanization, could only exacerbate, rather than resolve, problems of living with others. As the level of work rises above a mute carrying out of orders, as parents begin to play an active role in planning goals for schools, as people take a more active role in a democratic system, and as all of these economic, educational and political decisions increasingly affect and are affected by national and international life, the level of interaction between persons increases geometrically. Decisions come to be made less individually and autocratically, and more through discussion in the home, the work-place, the community, the nation and the world. Indeed, T. Im amichi speaks of a basic inversion of practical reasoning reflecting the fact that the energy, transportation and communications provided by a developing technology are largely now in common possession. It is not I but we who have these means; hence, it is we who must choose; further, we must do so not only between means, but as regards the very goals to which they will be applied.

            In short, anonymity and disengagement from others is neither realizable nor desirable. Modern life intensifies the need to interact positively with an ever expanding range of peoples traditions and interests, and this at ever more penetrating levels of one's life and work.

            The problem is one of self-identity in interaction with others, of the constitution of the human person in free and responsible interchange. Hence, growth in self-knowledge and self-identity is now required if we are to move from a passive posture of patience to a positive search and assimilation of additional views drawn from the experiences of others and to weld them into the complementary systemic relations required for modern living.

            But the issue is not merely one of missed opportunities. A brief catalogue of present tensions suggests the depth and difficulty of the problem of taking this step from passive tolerance to active inter-change and unity. First, within the person there exist multiple tensions between, on the one hand, the traditional content of one's culture built upon community and, on the other hand, the cumulative and often depersonalizing demands of a life whose every phase is ordered according to the abstract rationalizations of ind ustry, commerce, education systems and political theory.

            Secondly, within social, national and other groups and on the basis of the most subtle shadings of color or style of hair, birth or personal mannerism, one subgroup comes to be considered not merely slightly different, but somewhat threatening, and then markedly inferior. Even where no differences exist, some negative evaluation is imposed in order not fully to accept or recognize a group's freedom and dignity. Often the group resides in a distinct sector of a country or even of each town, surrounded by a climate of indifference or, more probably, of incipient antipathy. In some cases, they are cast out to swell the growing tide of the world's 14,000,000 ref ugees, where they languish in camps, wander in hunger, and are indiscriminately exploited or even attacked. This is a primary problem of our time.

            Thirdly, this phenomenon reappears between countries and continents; it shadows man's every advance. As the ability is developed to communicate and interact with peoples and cultures ever more distant and diverse, the modalities of alienation keep step, adopting ever more sophisticated and powerful economic and even military forms.

            In this light, the human travails entailed in establishing positive bonds of unity appear to go far beyond commercial, territorial or ideological disputes--although any one of these can become the point around which coalesces a perverse dynamism. What is at work is a humanly subversive process by which, in the search for self-identity and self-worth, the other

--whether person or group, domestic or foreign--is looked upon as a threatening adversary, as unworthy of respect, and finally as an object of rejection or even of attack.

            At the present juncture, we face a particularly exacerbated form of these tragic tensions. After a half to three quarters of a century of attempts to supplant the natural bonds of human community by a notion of class scientifically constructed upon the triumphant industrialization of the machine age, many peoples have now been freed to seek their own destiny once again. Suddenly, ancient frictions, more recent and unresolved grievances, and often the results of forced transport of peoples in cruel and despotic attempts at social engineering and territorial expansion--all of these must be faced. What is more, this must be done in the enthusiasm of new found independence and before the civilizing factors of the various cultures have been able to be identified, much less rebuilt.

            This is the excruciating lived dimension of the basic metaphysical problem of self-identity and, hence, of otherness. To ignore the depth of the contemporary problematic would restrict one's response to the level of compromises and accommodations possible in terms of the particular sciences, alleviating the symptoms while leaving the root problem unfaced. Such responses can do little more than treat the symptoms while delineating the terms and planting the seeds for subsequent confrontation and conflict.

            The real problems of interrelation between persons and cultural groups can be faced only by looking more deeply into the nature and origin of self-awareness and of self-id entity to see whether this sets one against others or, on the contrary, unites persons; and, if it does so, whether this can ground the positive interaction or cooperation required by the class and intercultural tensions of our day.

            The previous chapters have suggested ways of understanding tradition as living and creative, the nature of the person, harmony as a philosophy of freedom, transcendence as a foundation for the dignity and meaning of human life, and suffering as a path to resurrection and life. This concluding chapter would look ahead, not in the sense of a man-made utopia--that would restrict man's freedom because it could never reflect the full richness of life--but in the sense of being as unfolding in terms of unity and truth, goodness and beauty, harmony and peace.

            It would be possible to build this vision in terms of unity by reconciling the many in the vision of the one Transcendent, participated in by all men and women who are, therefore, brothers and sisters one to another. The danger remains that this would be overcome by self-centeredness, on the one hand, and overriding emphasis upon community, on the other.

            It would be possible to build the vision in terms of truth, which is found common in philosophies of justice, whether in the liberal mode of Rawles or in that of critical theory. But, if the problem of egoism is not resolved, there is danger that focusing upon justice might lead to being dragged back into conflict over possessions and profits.

            To protect against this and to open the road to creative progress, it is important to go further in terms of the good and of love. There are two approaches to this, one directly in terms of being, the other in terms of our self-consciousness as persons.

            In the appreciation of being as standing against nonbeing or nothingness lies the basis for the notion of perfection (from the Latin root meaning to make [facio] completely [per]), in the sense of the complete realization of a being according to its nature. When realized, this balance of the nature and actuality of being constitutes a stable state; when not yet realized it is the basis for seeking perfection. Hence, a plant grows, an animal seeks food, and man seeks to know. The good as the perfection of being is the basis of the dynamism of the human search.

            Beyond this, the participational relation of all limited beings to the All-perfect divine as source and goal of all creates a dynamic field for all beings in which the human will is able to change any instance of perfection to which it can turn in search of its own perfection. At the same time, it is not necessitated by anything less than perfection itself. The all-perfect is then the creative context of human life. Unfortunately, if one's search for perfection closes upon self, this very dynamism becomes corrupted into a basis for conflict with others.

            Once placed within the context of the transcendent as infinite and all-perfect, however, something more appears. For then one observes that the All-perfect source has created not out of a need or an attitude of self-seeking. The work of creation is not a search for its own realization, but rather a sharing of that perfection. In this, being comes to be seen in a new light, namely, not simply as self-seeking, but as self-sharing and self-communicating. The dynamism of being, then, is much more than a mean struggle for survival; it is rather one of creative realization and sharing.

PERSON AS GIVEN

            This can be approached in another, phenomenological manner by reflecting carefully the mode of operation of our own conscious life. One place to begin is with the per son as a polyvalent unity operative on both the physical and the non-physical levels. Though the various sciences analyze distinct dimensions, the person is not a construct of independent components but an id entity: the physical and the psychic are dimensions of myself and of no other. Further, this identity is not the result of my personal development, but was had by me from my beginning; it is a given for each person. Hence, while I can grow indefinitely, act endlessly, and do and make innumerable things, the growth and acts will be always my own; it is the same given or pers on who perdures through all the stages of his or her growth.

            This givenness appears also through reflection upon one's inter-personal relations. I do not properly create these, for they are possible only if I already have received my being. Further, to open to others is a dynamism which pertains to my very nature and which I can suppress only at the price of deep psychological disturbance. Relatedness is given with one's nature and is to be received as a promise and a task; it is one's destiny. What depends upon the person is only the degree of his or her presence to others.

            Unfortunately, this givenness is often taken in the sense of closure associated with the terms `datum' or `data', as hypothetical or evidential. On the one hand, in the hypothetical sense a given is a stipulation agreed upon by the relevant parties as the basis for a process of argumentation: Granted X, then Y. The premises of an argument or the postulates in a mathematical demonstration are such. On the other hand, in the evidential sense, data are the direct and warranted observations of what actually is the case. In both these meanings, the terms `given' or `data' direct the mind exclusively toward the future or consequent as one's only concern. The use of the past participle of the verb stem (data) closes off any search toward the past, so that, when one given is broken down by an analysis, new givens appear. One never gets behind some hypothetical or evidential given.

            This closure is done for good reason, but it leaves a second--and, for our purposes, potentially important--sense of `giv en' as open; this is expressed by the nominative form, `donum' or g ift. In contrast to the other meanings, this would seem to point back, as it were, behind itself to its source in ways similar to the ways historians use the term `fact'. They note that a fact is not simply there; its meaning has been molded or made (facta) within the ongoing process of human life. In this sense, it points back to its origin and origination.

            However, this potentially rich return to the source was blocked by the shift at the beginning of the 19th century from an empiricist to an anthropocentric view. In this horizon, facts came to be seen especially as made by man, conceived either as an individual in the liberal tradition, or as a class in the socialist tradition--to which correspond the ideals of progress and praxis, respectively. Because what was made by man could always be remade by him, however, this turned aside a radical search into the character of life as gift. Attention remained only upon the future, understood simply in terms of man and of what man could do by either individual or social pra xis.

            There are reasons to suspect that this humanism is not enough for a dynamic sense of a cultural heritage and a creative sense of harmony as cooperation with others. Without underestimating how much has been accomplished in the terms of progress and praxis, the world-wide contemporary phenomenon of ali enation not only between cultures but from one's own culture and people suggests that something important has been forgotten. First, by including only what is abstractively clear these approaches begin by omitting that which can be had only in self-knowledge, namely, one's self-identity and all that is most distinctive and creative in each people's heritage. Focusing only upon what is analytically clear and distinct to the mind of any and every individual renders alien the notes of personal identity, freedom and creativity, as well as integrity, wholeness and harmony. These characterize the more synthetic philosophical and religious traditions and are realized in self-knowledge, deep interpersonal bonds, and under the personal guidance of a teacher or guru.

            Second, there is the too broadly experienced danger that in concrete affairs the concern to build the future in terms only of what has been conceived clearly and by all will be transformed, wittingly and unwittingly, into oppression of self-identity and destruction of integrative cultures both as civilizations and as centers of personal cultivation. Indeed, the charges of cultural oppression and the calls for liberation from so many parts of the world raise founded doubt that the humanist notion of the self-given and its accompanying ideals can transcend the dynamics of power and leave room for persons, especially for those of other cultures.

            Finally, were the making, which is implied in the derivation of the term `fact' from `facere', to be wholly reduced to `self-making,' and were the given to become only the self-given, it might be suspected that we had stumbled finally upon what P armenides termed "the all impossible way" of deriving what is from what is not. His essential insight that all is grounded in the Absolute--which is shared by Hinduism, Islam and the Judeo-Christian traditions--is a firm guard against such a self-defeating, stagnating and destructive route.

PERSON AS GIFT

            It is time, then, to look again to the second meaning of `given' and to follow the opening toward the source implied in the notion of gi ft. Above, we had noted some indications that self-identity and interpersonal relatedness are gifts (dona). Let us now look further into this in order to see what it suggests regarding the dynamic openness required for cooperation between persons and cultures.

            First, one notes that as gift the given has an essentially gratuitous character. It is true that at times the object or service given could be paid for in cash or in kind. As indicated by the root of the term `commercial,' however, such a transaction would be based on some merit (mereo) on the part of the receiver. This would destroy its nature as gift precisely because the given would not be based primarily in the freedom of the giver.

            The same appears from an analysis of an exchange of presents. Presents cease to be gifts to the degree that they are given only because of the requirements of the social situation or only because of a claim implicit in what the other might have given me. Indeed, the sole way in which such presents can be redeemed as gifts is to make clear that their presentation is not something to which I merely feel obliged, but which I personally and freely want to do. As such, then, a gift is based precisely upon the freedom of the giver; it is gratuitous.

            There is here a striking symmetry with the `given' in the above sense of hypothesis or evidence. There, in the line of hypothetical and evidential reasoning there was a first, namely, that which is not explained, but upon which explanation is founded. Here, there is also a first upon which the reality of the gift is founded and which is not to be traced to another reality. This symmetry makes what is distinctive of the gift stand out, namely, here the originating action is not traced back further precisely because it is free or gratuitous. Once again, our reflections lead us in the direction of that which is self-sufficient, absolute and transcendent as the sole adequate giver of the gift of being.

            Further, as an absolute point of departure with its distinctive spontaneity and originality, the giving is non-reciprocal. To attempt to repay would be to destroy the gift as such. Indeed, there is no way in which this originating gratuity can be returned; we live in a graced condition. This appears in reflection upon one's culture. What we received from the authors of the Ve das, a Confucius or an Ar istotle can in no way be returned. Nor is this simply a problem of distance in time, for neither is it possible to repay the life we have received from our parents, the health received from a doctor, the wisdom from a teacher, or simply the good example which can come from any quarter at any time. The non-reciprocal character of our life is not merely that of part to whole; it is that of a gift to its source.

            The great traditions have insisted rightly both upon the oneness of the absolute reality and upon the lesser reality of the multiple: the multiple is not The Reality, though neither is it totally non-reality. Anselm's elaboration of the notion of privation contains a complementary clarification of the gratuitous character of beings as given or gifted. The notion of privation was developed classically by Aristotle in his analysis of change, where privation appeared at the beginning of the process as the lack of the form to be realized. He saw this as more than non-being, precisely in as much as it was a lack of a good which is due to that subject. Hence, in substantial change, because the basic potential principle is prime matter to which no specific form is due, privation plays no role.

            A nselm extended this notion of privation to the situation of creation in which the whole being is gifted. In this case, there is no prior subject to which something is due; hence, there is no ground or even any acceptance. Anselm expressed this radically non-reciprocal nature of the gift--its lack of prior conditions--through the notion of absolute privation.

            It is privati on and not merely negation, for negation simply is not and leads nowhere, whereas the gift is to be, and once given can be seen to be uniquely appropriate. It is absolute privation, however, for the foundation is not at all on the part of the recipient; rather it is entirely on the part of the source. This parallels a basic insight suggested in the Upanishads and perhaps the basic insight for metaphysics.

In the beginning, my dear, this world was just being (Sat), one only, without a second. . . . Being thought to itself: `May I be many; may I procreate.' It produced fire. That fire thought to itself: `May I be many; may I procreate.' It produced water. . . . That water thought to itself: `May I be many; may I procreate.' It produced food. . . . That divinity (Being) thought to itself: `Well, having entered into three divinities [fire, water, and food] by means of this living Self, let me develop names and forms. Let me make each one of them tripartite. (Chandogya Up., 6.1-3, 12-14.)

            To what does this correspond on the part of the source? In a certain parallel to the antinomies of K ant which show when reason has strayed beyond its bounds, many from Pl otinus to Lei b niz and beyond have sought knowledge, not only of the gift and its origin, but of why it had to be given. The more they succeeded, the less room was left for freedom on the part of man as a given or gift. Others attempted to understand freedom as a fall, only to find that what was thus understood was bereft of value and meaning and, hence, was of no significance to human life and its cultures. Rather, the radical non-reciprocity of human freedom must be rooted in an equally radical generosity on the part of its origin. No reason, either on the part of the given or on the part of its origin, makes this gift necessary. The freedom of man is the reflection of his derivation from a giving that is pure generosity: man is the image of God.

            In turn, on the part of the gift this implies a correspondingly radical openness or generosity. The gift is not something which is and then receives. It was an essential facet of P lato's response to the problems he had elaborated in the Parm enides that the multiple can exist only as participants of the good or one. Receiving is not something they do; it is what they are.¹ As such, they reflect at the core of their being the reality of the generosity in which they originate.

            The importance of this insight is attested from many directions. In Latin America, some philosophers begin from the symbol earth as the fruitful source of all (reflected in the Quec huan language of the In cas as the "Pacha Mama "). This is their preferred context for their sense of human life, its relations to physical nature, and the meeting of the two in technology. In this they are not without European counterparts. The classical project of H eidegger in its later phases shifted beyond the unconcealment of the being of things-in-time, to Being which makes the things manifest. The Dasein, structured in and as time, is able to provide Being a place of discovery among things. Being maintains the initiative; its coming-to-pass or emission depends upon its own spontaneity and is for its sake. "Its `there' (Da-sein) only sustains the process and guards it," so that, in the openness of concealed Being, beings can appear un-concealed.

            The African spirit, especially in its great reverence of f amily, c ommunity and c ulture--whence one derives one's life, one's ability to interpret one's world, and one's capacity to respond--seems uniquely positioned to grasp this more fully. In contrast to Aristotle's classical `wonder,' these philosophers do not situate the person over against the object of his or her concern, reducing both to objects for detached study and manipulation. They look rather to the source whence reality is derived and are especially sensitive to its implications for the mode and manner of one's life as being essentially open, communicative, generous and sharing.

HARMONY AND GENEROSITY

            In the light of this sense of gift, it may be possible to extend the sense of the notions of duty and harmony beyond concern for the well-being of those with whom I share and whose well-being is in a sense my own. The good is not only what contributes to my perfection: I am not the center of meaning. Rather, being is received and, hence, is essentially out-going.

            Seen in terms of gift, person and community manifest two principles for social dynamism in the development of a cultural tradition of harmony: complementarity which makes the formation of culture and interchange possible, and generosity which passes it along in an active process of tradition. First, as participants in the one, self-sufficient and purely spontaneous source, the many are not in principle antithetic or antipathetic one to another. Rather, as limited images they stand in a complementary relation to all other participants or images. This is reflected in the enjoyment experienced in simple companionship in which, by sharing the other's experience of being, each lives more fully: the result is more than the sum of its parts. What is true here of individual persons is true as well both of groups of peoples and of the cultures they create through self-knowledge. It is this complementarity, derived from their common origin, which makes cooperation in work and decision making, whether in commerce or in culture, fundamentally possible and ultimately desirable.

            This has two important implications for our topic. Where the Gr eeks' focus upon their heritage had led to depreciating others as barbarians, the sense of oneself and of one's culture as radically gifted provides a basic corrective. Knowing and valuing oneself and one's culture as gifts implies more than merely reciprocating what the other does for me. It means, first, that others and their culture are to be respected simply because they, too, have been given or gifted by the one Transcendent source. This is an essential step which Gand hi, in calling outcasts by the name "harijans" or "children of God," urged us to take beyond the sense of pride or isolation in which we would see others in pejorative terms.

            But mere respect may not be enough. In fact I and another, my people and another, originate from, share in and proclaim the same Self, especially as Good or Bliss. This implies that, to the degree that our cultural traditions share in the good, the relation between these integrating modes of human life is in principle one of complementarity. Hence, interchange as the effort to live this complementarity is far from being hopeless. In the pressing needs of our times, only an intensification of cooperation between peoples can make available the essential and immense stores of human experience and creativity. A positive virtue of love is our real basis for hope.

            A second principle for interchange is to be found in the participated--the radically given or gifted--character of one's being. As one does not first exist and then receive, but one's very existence is a received existence or gift, to attempt to give back this gift, as in an exchange of presents, would be at once hopelessly too much and too little. On the one hand, to attempt to return in strict equivalence would be too much, for it is our very self that we have received as gift. On the other hand, to think merely in terms of reciprocity would be to fall essentially short of my nature as one that is given, for to make a merely equivalent return would be to remain centered upon myself where I would cleverly trap, and then entomb, the creative power of being.

            Rather, looking back I can see the futility of giving back, and in this find the fundamental importance of passing on the gift in the spirit in which it has been given. One's nature as given calls for a creative generosity which reflects that of one's source. Truly appropriate generosity lies in continuing the giving through participating in one's tradition, shaping it creatively in response to the needs of the day and the discoveries of the era, and handing on this good to others. This requires a vast expansion or breaking out of oneself as the only center of one's concern. It means becoming effectively concerned with the good of others and of other groups, and for the promotion and vital growth of the next generation and those to follow.

IMPLICATIONS FOR SOCIAL LIFE

            The implications of such generosity are broad and at times surprisingly personal. First, true openness to others cannot be based upon a depreciation of oneself or of one's own culture. Without appreciating one's worth, there would be nothing to share and no way to help, nor even the possibility of taking joy in the good of the other. Further, cultural interchange enables one to see that elements of one's life, which in isolation may have seemed to be merely local customs and purely repetitive in character, are more fundamentally modes in which one lives basic and essential human values. In meeting others and other cultures, one discovers the deeper meaning in one's own everyday life.

            One does more than discover, however. One recognizes that in these transcendental values of life--of truth and freedom, of love and beauty--one participates in the dynamism of one's origin and, hence, must share these values in turn. More exactly, one can come to realize that real reception of these transcendental gifts lies in sharing them in loving concern in order that others may realize them as well. This means passing on one's own heritage and protecting and promoting what the next generation would freely become.

            Finally, that other cultures are quintessentially products of self-cultivation by other spirits as free and creative implies the need to open one's horizons beyond one's own self-concerns to the ambit of the freedom of others. This involves promoting the development of other free and creative centers and cultures which, precisely as such, are not in one's own possession or under one's own control. One lives, then, no longer in terms merely of oneself or of things that one can make or manage, but in terms of an interchange between free men and peoples of different cultures. Personal responsibility is no longer merely individual decision making or for individual good. Effectively realized, the resulting interaction and mutual fecundation reaches out beyond oneself and one's own culture to reflect ever more perfectly the glory of the one source and goal of all.

            This calls for a truly shared effort in which all respond fully, not only to common needs, but to the particular needs of each. This broad sense of tolera nce and love in a time of tension has been described by Pope John Paul II as a state in which violence cedes to peaceful transformation, and conflict to pardon and reconciliation; where power is made reasonable by persuasion, and justice finally is implemented through love.