Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Florence: the Architecture of a Renaissance

To live in Florence in the mid-fifteenth century was to be at the center of the world and the crossroads –or as it seemed to its inhabitants, the fount- of civilization. The narrow, medieval streets had given way to stately lanes wide enough to accommodate bustling cavalcades of merchants and tradesmen. All along the streets stretched shops upon shops. Rising above these were palazzos flanked by high gates, geometric gardens and statuary. This was the reign of Lorenzo de Medici, or “Lorenzo the Magnificent” as he quietly encouraged himself to be known. The Medici were a medieval success story. Over several generations, they had pulled themselves from obscurity to become the bankers to many noble families in Italy. They had even earned the distinction of protecting the Papacy's enormous assets. Since the turn of the fifteenth century, a combination of trade, usury and philanthropy under the Medicis' direction had transformed Florence into the "Athens of the Middle Ages" and the home and patron of Europe's master artisans.

The city was anything but peaceful, and its wealth made it a tempting prize to other city states. The busy streets were not seldom the site of riots, workers' strikes, and lynchings by families jealous of the Medici's power. In the midst of this tumult, Florentines learned that it is neither peace nor security that guarantees prosperity. Like Athens millenia before, the city-state of Florence was the birthplace of a renaissance (in this case, the Renaissance) because of the competitive spirit of its people and rulers. The ingredients were all there. As early as the 13th century, the guilds had secured fair competition through the "Ordinances of Justice." Florence was also the home to Europe's soundest currency since antiquity: the "florin." This foundation of lawful commerce paved the way for an explosion of enterprise. Much to the consternation of the common people of the city, immigrants (the "gente nuovo") poured in, pushing costs of labor down and production sky high.

This race for employment shows only one facet of how deeply ingrained competition was in the Florentine psyche. The master sculptor Lorenzo Ghiberti was chosen from among many contest entrants to build the "Gates of Paradise" for the Battistero of San Giovanni. Brunelleschi's spectacular dome -the greatest architectural feat in a millenium- that sits atop Florence Cathedral was likewise a prize-winning design. In fact, the masterpieces of Florence's Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo and Sandro Botticelli all emerged from the dust of this struggle to win contracts from noble families and the Papacy. This was an era before reckless self-expression hampered the creative genius of artists, and art's inspiration was found in the tastes and culture of its audience. "Primavera," "Mona Lisa," the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, and countless other masterpieces, all stand as testimonies, not only of timeless beauty and vision, but of how "infinite in faculty" the human genius can be when allowed to enjoy the fruits of its labor.

Friday, May 27, 2011

From The Confessions of St. Augustine, Book II: Sin a Counterfeit of God

 "For so doth pride imitate exaltedness; whereas Thou alone art God exalted over all. Ambition, what seeks it, but honours and glory? whereas Thou alone art to be honoured above all, and glorious for evermore. The cruelty of the great would fain be feared; but who is to be feared but God alone, out of whose power what can be wrested or withdrawn? when, or where, or whither, or by whom? The tendernesses of the wanton would fain be counted love: yet is nothing more tender than Thy charity; nor is aught loved more healthfully than that Thy truth, bright and beautiful above all. Curiosity makes semblance of a desire of knowledge; whereas Thou supremely knowest all. Yea, ignorance and foolishness itself is cloaked under the name of simplicity and uninjuriousness; because nothing is found more single than Thee: and what less injurious, since they are his own works which injure the sinner? Yea, sloth would fain be at rest; but what stable rest besides the Lord? Luxury affects to be called plenty and abundance; but Thou art the fulness and never-failing plenteousness of incorruptible pleasures. Prodigality presents a shadow of liberality: but Thou art the most overflowing Giver of all good. Covetousness would possess many things; and Thou possessest all things. Envy disputes for excellency: what more excellent than Thou? Anger seeks revenge: who revenges more justly than Thou? Fear startles at things unwonted and sudden, which endangers things beloved, and takes forethought for their safety; but to Thee what unwonted or sudden, or who separateth from Thee what Thou lovest? Or where but with Thee is unshaken safety? Grief pines away for things lost, the delight of its desires; because it would have nothing taken from it, as nothing can from Thee.

"Thus doth the soul commit fornication, when she turns from Thee, seeking without Thee, what she findeth not pure and untainted, till she returns to Thee. Thus all pervertedly imitate Thee, who remove far from Thee, and lift themselves up against Thee. But even by thus imitating Thee, they imply Thee to be the Creator of all nature; whence there is no place whither altogether to retire from Thee. What then did I love in that theft? and wherein did I even corruptly and pervertedly imitate my Lord? Did I wish even by stealth to do contrary to Thy law, because by power I could not, so that being a prisoner, I might mimic a maimed liberty by doing with impunity things unpermitted me, a darkened likeness of Thy Omnipotency? Behold, Thy servant, fleeing from his Lord, and obtaining a shadow. O rottenness, O monstrousness of life, and depth of death! could I like what I might not, only because I might not? For so doth pride imitate exaltedness; whereas Thou alone art God exalted over all. Ambition, what seeks it, but honours and glory? whereas Thou alone art to be honoured above all, and glorious for evermore. The cruelty of the great would fain be feared; but who is to be feared but God alone, out of whose power what can be wrested or withdrawn? when, or where, or whither, or by whom? The tendernesses of the wanton would fain be counted love: yet is nothing more tender than Thy charity; nor is aught loved more healthfully than that Thy truth, bright and beautiful above all. Curiosity makes semblance of a desire of knowledge; whereas Thou supremely knowest all. Yea, ignorance and foolishness itself is cloaked under the name of simplicity and uninjuriousness; because nothing is found more single than Thee: and what less injurious, since they are his own works which injure the sinner? Yea, sloth would fain be at rest; but what stable rest besides the Lord? Luxury affects to be called plenty and abundance; but Thou art the fulness and never-failing plenteousness of incorruptible pleasures. Prodigality presents a shadow of liberality: but Thou art the most overflowing Giver of all good. Covetousness would possess many things; and Thou possessest all things. Envy disputes for excellency: what more excellent than Thou? Anger seeks revenge: who revenges more justly than Thou? Fear startles at things unwonted and sudden, which endangers things beloved, and takes forethought for their safety; but to Thee what unwonted or sudden, or who separateth from Thee what Thou lovest? Or where but with Thee is unshaken safety? Grief pines away for things lost, the delight of its desires; because it would have nothing taken from it, as nothing can from Thee."   

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

The General Welfare Clause

Ever since the mid 20th century, it's been fashionable to believe that the Constitution was written to give government the power to do essentially whatever it wishes. Nothing could be further from the truth. The entire Bill of Rights builds on the foundation set by the First Amendment, which begins: “Congress shall make no law...” This document was not written to give powers to the government, but to keep government from seizing powers. If the Constitution specifically mentioned, or “ennumerated,” a power (such as the power to found a post office), then that was a legitimate power. Whatever was not mentioned (such as the power to regulate the food we eat) was, in the words of the Tenth Amendment, “reserved to the States respectively, or to the people.” This wasn't just a novel idea thought up by philosopher-statesmen. This was the result of years under an oppressive British government that had claimed to have more than its ennumerated powers.

Writing in Federalist #45, James Madison, the “Father of the Constitution,” observed, "The powers delegated by the proposed Constitution to the federal government are few and defined.” (emphasis added) Thomas Jefferson wrote in 1798 that “...whensoever the general government assumes undelegated powers, its acts are unauthoritative, void, and of no force.”

Originally, these were common beliefs. Anything broader was extreme. But an egregiously broad interpretation is just what both neoconservatives and liberals use today to justify their statist machinations, whether it be the welfare state or the warfare state. One, poor sentence in the Constitution called the General Welfare clause is invoked most often as justification. This clause, it is argued, is a gateway for the government to take upon itself whatever powers it deems are in the “general welfare.” Here's what the clause actually says:

“The Congress shall have Power To lay and collect Taxes, Duties, Imposts and Excises, to pay the Debts and provide for the common Defence and general Welfare of the United States....” (Article I, Section VIII)

It's important to note that “Welfare” is not used in the sense of  “financial relief of impoverished citizens.” That usage is an invention of recent years. What this clause is saying is that the government can only collect money and use it in pursuance of a power that is not only ennumerated, but benefits everyone in the entire nation – the “general Welfare.” An example of taxes raised and money spent for the “general Welfare” would be funding for national security. But isn't providing for the “general Welfare” an ennumerated power in itself? No. Why, then, would the rest of Article VIII bother to spell out the specific powers granted to the federal government, like that to create “needful buildings?” Madison himself said, “For what purpose could the enumeration of particulars be inserted, if these and all others were meant to be included in the preceding general power?”

No Supreme Court ruling during the entire history of the Republic ever held otherwise – until the late 1930s. Up until that point, the Court had resisted Franklin D. Roosevelt's agenda of vastly expanding federal power. After the president infamously threatened to “pack” the Court with justices of his choosing, however, the justices' decisions coincidentally began to rubber-stamp the New Deal agenda. Two of these cases in particular, United States v. Butler and Helvering v. Davis, expanded the nation's view of the General Welfare clause to allow the Social Security system to be erected. This was then enshrined in the minds of succeeding generations, courtesy of the public school system.

The problem that a loose view of the General Welfare clause creates used to be obvious. So obvious, in fact, that James Madison predicted it in 1792: “If Congress can employ money indefinitely to the general welfare, and are the sole and supreme judges of the general welfare, they may take the care of religion into their own hands; they may appoint teachers in every State, county and parish and pay them out of their public treasury; they may take into their own hands the education of children, establishing in like manner schools throughout the Union; they may assume the provision of the poor; they may undertake the regulation of all roads other than post-roads; in short, every thing, from the highest object of state legislation down to the most minute object of police, would be thrown under the power of Congress…. Were the power of Congress to be established in the latitude contended for, it would subvert the very foundations, and transmute the very nature of the limited Government established by the people of America.”

Monday, May 2, 2011

The Measure of All Things

Human beings have a rare talent for abusing power. For millenia, we've bound ourselves by oaths to protect ourselves and others from our own avarice for just this reason. The oaths follow a common formula. Usually a deity is called upon as a witness and becomes the rule against which the oath-taker's actions and intentions are to be judged by his fellow men. If the promises made are kept, blessings are expected; if the terms are violated, curses divine and human will follow. Either way, justice is done so that life and well-being are secured.

These oaths aren't just for officeholders or magistrates, but for any human being who finds himself faced with the gravity of holding the life or death of another in his hands. Hippocrates of Cos, the ancient Greek physician and “father of medicine”, was in just such a position. Strongly pro-life, his famous “Hippocratic Oath” contains the line “...I will not give to a woman an abortive remedy.” Because of its harmony with Biblical views on the sanctity of life, this oath was administered unaltered by many western medical colleges until the late twentieth century, when such an antiquated line was tossed aside in favor of feeble advice such as “...tread with care in matters of life and death.” Other cultures across the world have also, by and large, forsaken their commitment to life. Japan's “Seventeen Rules of Enjui” (echoing Hippocrates' oath in its condemnation of abortion) no longer bind its doctors. Nor do Jewish doctors practice under the constraints of anything like their ancient “Code of Asaph”.

One of the more recent oaths required of the medical profession is the Physicians' Oath of 1948. After the physician pledges his life to the “service of humanity”, the oath goes on “I will maintain the utmost respect for human life from the time of conception, even under threat, I will not use my medical knowledge contrary to the laws of humanity.” Defending life from conception was not long possible once mankind had become “the measure of all things” Today, most medical students graduating will take an oath that values human choice more than it does human life -a logical step if mankind is God. They would do well to remember the first time our race abused its freedom of choice and played God. The fruit Satan offers may appear different, but God’s words remain the same – “The moment you eat from it you are surely doomed to die.”