Hear, hear! Perhaps there is a way to sneak the greatness of "Way of Life Studies" into higher education to replace the corrupt kaleidoscope of other studies (e.g. "Gender Studies," "Queer Studies," "Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion Studies," etc.) But "Way of Life Studies" needs to be introduced at an even earlier age, even before high school if possible.
Great reminders from Kierkegaard, Strauss, etc. Mahoney's "The Statesman as Thinker" is also very helpful. I have a copy of Mark Edmundson's "Self and Soul: A Defense of Ideals," so thanks for reminding me about that, and the Storeys as well.
You've mentioned Pascal's hierarchy of greatness, and I wonder about the ancient hierarchy. When you lay out the five wonderful lives in proper order, does that mean that many of the ancient and medieval authors, like Pascal later, championed the Holy Man over the Statesman, the Statesman over the Philosopher, the Philosopher over the Poet, and the Poet over the Hero? I suppose that the Holy Man is more of a medieval thing, from Aquinas etc., but the rest permeate ancient writings too.
I love Seneca's "On the Shortness of Life" on this question - or "Way of Life Studies."
Thanks for the full picture of Raphael’s frescoes showing the Poets on Parnassus and the Philosophers at Athens... I'm even more impressed by Raphael's greatness when I see the two frescoes side by side. I wonder where people like him fit into this schema... or people like Michelangelo, DaVinci, Rembrandt, Van Gogh, etc... and then Bach, Beethoven, Mozart, etc. Then people like Roger Federer, Michael Jordan, and Lionel Messi. I am easily mesmerized by watching Leo Messi highlights.
Pascal didn't talk much of the republican statesman simply--his examples of carnal greatness center on statesman-generals who conquer...seems to reflect an inadequate appreciation of politics at its best on his part.
I'd count Raphael and other great visual artists as Poets.
My proper order is not so much a ranking, as it is a "what comes first to mind" for the ancients.
I wonder about the connections between the various forms of greatness, how they are distinct and how they are intertwined. For example, when I read Dante's "Divine Comedy," I can't help but think that God implanted poetic-philosophic, and philosophic-poetic greatness in his soul, and that Dante nourished that seed in his soul until it produced a marvel of creation. But it might have been tragic if Dante was distracted by becoming a statesman or even a holy man (although there are elements of that in his soul as well). Does that make sense? Or what if Churchill somehow became distracted by an ambition to become a great painter, leaving his statesmanship to lesser lights? In other words, one indispensable element of greatness seems to be the ability to identify and develop the particular innate or God-given seed greatness that is implanted in every soul to varying degrees. Vivaldi and Michelangelo wrote some great poetry, but I'm glad that they focused on music and art respectively. I'm glad that Michael Jordan returned to basketball after a short baseball career. I'm grateful that St. Thomas Aquinas didn't pursue military greatness like his brothers.
I enjoy Kierkegaard's Knight of Faith and the exercise in contemplating for the purpose of emulating Abraham's greatness, in part because - even if Kierkegaard is only partially right about the paradox of faith or the absurd - it points to the greatness of Jesus Christ. Of all the ways in "Way of Life Studies," only our Lord can truly say that He is the way. I suppose that these reflections tap into the ideal of the Holy Man, the Saint, or the Prophet. I also wonder about the connections between the ancients who aimed to form great citizens, and our Lord who transforms us into His disciples. Paul's high praise for charity as the greatest gift, for example, must have some natural and supernatural connections to Aristotle's virtuous friendship, does it not? Jesus invites "Come, follow me," with promises and blessings that far exceed even the best mortal ambitions, or perhaps, as we follow Him, our Lord transforms our best mortal ambitions into something much greater than whatever we might originally envision.
Hear, hear! Perhaps there is a way to sneak the greatness of "Way of Life Studies" into higher education to replace the corrupt kaleidoscope of other studies (e.g. "Gender Studies," "Queer Studies," "Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion Studies," etc.) But "Way of Life Studies" needs to be introduced at an even earlier age, even before high school if possible.
Great reminders from Kierkegaard, Strauss, etc. Mahoney's "The Statesman as Thinker" is also very helpful. I have a copy of Mark Edmundson's "Self and Soul: A Defense of Ideals," so thanks for reminding me about that, and the Storeys as well.
You've mentioned Pascal's hierarchy of greatness, and I wonder about the ancient hierarchy. When you lay out the five wonderful lives in proper order, does that mean that many of the ancient and medieval authors, like Pascal later, championed the Holy Man over the Statesman, the Statesman over the Philosopher, the Philosopher over the Poet, and the Poet over the Hero? I suppose that the Holy Man is more of a medieval thing, from Aquinas etc., but the rest permeate ancient writings too.
I love Seneca's "On the Shortness of Life" on this question - or "Way of Life Studies."
Thanks for the full picture of Raphael’s frescoes showing the Poets on Parnassus and the Philosophers at Athens... I'm even more impressed by Raphael's greatness when I see the two frescoes side by side. I wonder where people like him fit into this schema... or people like Michelangelo, DaVinci, Rembrandt, Van Gogh, etc... and then Bach, Beethoven, Mozart, etc. Then people like Roger Federer, Michael Jordan, and Lionel Messi. I am easily mesmerized by watching Leo Messi highlights.
Pascal didn't talk much of the republican statesman simply--his examples of carnal greatness center on statesman-generals who conquer...seems to reflect an inadequate appreciation of politics at its best on his part.
I'd count Raphael and other great visual artists as Poets.
My proper order is not so much a ranking, as it is a "what comes first to mind" for the ancients.
I wonder about the connections between the various forms of greatness, how they are distinct and how they are intertwined. For example, when I read Dante's "Divine Comedy," I can't help but think that God implanted poetic-philosophic, and philosophic-poetic greatness in his soul, and that Dante nourished that seed in his soul until it produced a marvel of creation. But it might have been tragic if Dante was distracted by becoming a statesman or even a holy man (although there are elements of that in his soul as well). Does that make sense? Or what if Churchill somehow became distracted by an ambition to become a great painter, leaving his statesmanship to lesser lights? In other words, one indispensable element of greatness seems to be the ability to identify and develop the particular innate or God-given seed greatness that is implanted in every soul to varying degrees. Vivaldi and Michelangelo wrote some great poetry, but I'm glad that they focused on music and art respectively. I'm glad that Michael Jordan returned to basketball after a short baseball career. I'm grateful that St. Thomas Aquinas didn't pursue military greatness like his brothers.
Perhaps there is a way to encourage the great money-makers of our time to invest in and promote "Way of Life Studies." :)
I enjoy Kierkegaard's Knight of Faith and the exercise in contemplating for the purpose of emulating Abraham's greatness, in part because - even if Kierkegaard is only partially right about the paradox of faith or the absurd - it points to the greatness of Jesus Christ. Of all the ways in "Way of Life Studies," only our Lord can truly say that He is the way. I suppose that these reflections tap into the ideal of the Holy Man, the Saint, or the Prophet. I also wonder about the connections between the ancients who aimed to form great citizens, and our Lord who transforms us into His disciples. Paul's high praise for charity as the greatest gift, for example, must have some natural and supernatural connections to Aristotle's virtuous friendship, does it not? Jesus invites "Come, follow me," with promises and blessings that far exceed even the best mortal ambitions, or perhaps, as we follow Him, our Lord transforms our best mortal ambitions into something much greater than whatever we might originally envision.