Luceat!

Does man have an end? This became the central question in a discussion I had with a (fallen-away Catholic, now almost atheistic) philosophy major on campus this week. So many people on our campuses ask similar questions: What is my purpose? Why do I wake up and go about my daily routine day after day? Well, our discussion went something like this:

Does man have an end? Yes.

Why? Because everything has an end, a “telos”—most of philosophy and our daily actions are based upon this basic assumption.

Like what? This acorn. Action follows being. This acorn is designed to be heavy enough to fall to the ground, survive the fall and be partly implanted into the soil, where it opens, takes root, and hopefully is the seed of a new live oak tree. It’s basic function and purpose is to reproduce.

Man is born, reproduces, and dies too. What makes him need to have an end that’s different from an acorn? Man has the capacity to be more than just a reproductive being.

How? He has an intellect and will—this indicates an immaterial element to his being beyond just his body. If he is not only material, but also immaterial, then his end has to have an immaterial element to it as well. His purpose will be much greater than a mere material acorn.

Isn’t this another way of saying that every man searches for “specialness,” that way he is unique and over other things or people? No, as Catholics, we don’t have to search for “specialness.” We already are confident in our human dignity derived from having an intellect and will—what we believe is an indication that we are created specially in the image and likeness of God Our Father. We don’t feel that we have to go and ‘make a name for ourselves’[1], because God already created and ‘named’ each of us as His child.[2]

So what do you think man’s end is?

God made me to know Him, to love Him, and to serve Him in this world, and to be happy with Him forever in the next.[3]

Granted, you can’t get all of that from natural reason alone with absolute logical certainty, but I do think we can see that it is a reasonable proposal and doesn’t contradict anything in logic.[4] Let’s look at it in parts:

To Know

Descartes could get this far, “I think therefore I am,” and see that man was made to know. But, this is an incomplete picture because a man’s knowledge has no object outside of himself, and this picture of man’s end is not linked directly to his very real physical being.

In contrast, we are called to know (to the best of our ability) the highest things, namely, the Source of Goodness, Truth, Beauty, & Love—who we believe to be a person, God.[5] By uniting ourselves with the source of the attributes that bring out the best of man, we ourselves become the best versions of ourselves.[6] This intellectually fulfills man—thus, it is an element of his end, since man’s intellect is an essential part of what it is to be human.

To Love

Freud knew that the desire to love and be loved was joined intrinsically with human nature. However, he simplified this link and twisted it to represent sexual desire as the primary motivational energy of human life. Thus, though he accounted for both man’s immaterial consciousness and his bodily life, he failed to recognize that ultimately man could and should be motivated by something higher than a form of animal instinct.[7]

On the other hand, Catholic philosophers see love as a product of the will and not merely the name for hormonal, emotional, or instinctual fluctuations. We have a deep desire to be united with the one known. This is easily seen within the marital covenant here on earth, but it applies in a supernatural way to our love of Him who is Love Incarnate. The greatest commandment is to “love the Lord God your God.”[8] By providing a perfect object of the will, He alone can ultimately satisfy man’s need for love. As St. Augustine exclaimed, “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it rests in you.” All of our ‘little loves’ stem from this beautifully fatal attraction to ultimate Goodness Incarnate and the One who loved us first.[9] I call it “fatal” in the sense that real love naturally destroys the self-seeking and egotistical tendencies in our fallen nature. Real love calls us outside of ourselves, which leads us to the final part of man’s purpose—service.

To Serve

Various philosophers (notably those developing a branch of the “social contract theory”) describe a sort of duty of man to live in harmony with his fellow men. Through “do no harm” styled phrases, they seek to quell man’s more disruptive passions. Thus, they see that man is generally a social creature, and it’s better for mayhem not to break out.[10] However, I think the beauty of social interaction is lost when it is not linked with man’s capacity to love. Without love, service is selfish and obedience to any code of ethics is only maintained in proportion to man’s desire for peace. There is no motivational force outside of himself and his own hedonistic desires to do or not do anything.[11]

On the other hand, if service is the fruit of an intellect focused on knowing the good and a will choosing to love what is good, than service itself is part of the telos of man. This is the element of man’s end that is manifested in his bodily life and directly linked to his cognitive (immaterial) life. Christ indicates this truth when He explains that the second greatest commandment is to “love your neighbor as yourself.” Gaudium et Spes states that man “cannot fully find himself except through a sincere gift of himself.”[12] This active resignation of our wills in order to serve the good of the other is the lived indication of the separation between us and the beasts. Two pet dogs might shove each other out of the way to get to the water bowl first. A thirsty man may ask his neighbor if he would like a glass of water before serving himself.

This gift of self is meant to be a total gift. John Paul II emphasized this frequently in his writings on the Theology of the Body. Man is not meant to give by halves and, in doing so, live a sort of double life. The language of the gift, of intimacy, is the language of love, selfless commitment, and reciprocal relationship. This is what we are called to struggle for in our (often imperfect) human relationships, and this is what we are made to enjoy with Our Creator.

He knew us first, He loved us first, and He served us first through giving us life and then redeeming that life by sacrificing His Son. He created us for a purpose. Our purpose is not a series of sterile actions or a desperate search for “specialness.” We are called to a relationship, an intimacy with God Himself. Logic can show man that he is called to something beyond the end of an acorn or a pet dog and can point in the right direction, but the desire in our hearts, the initiative of Our God through Revelation and His Hand in the created world, and the fulfillment that comes when one responds to that Divine Initiative teaches man the depth of his telos. My challenge for you is to embrace every day as a gift—a chance for you more fully to become who you were meant to be, united with your Heavenly Father.