Philosophical Counseling: Transcendence

 

In the Armchair Philosophy column of the Catholic Peace Weekly, the professor offers a brief explanation of the 'transcendence technique' in philosophical counseling.

When teaching the transcendence technique in philosophical counseling, misunderstandings are common. Some people consider the transcendence technique a religious counseling method that heals individuals by relying on an absolute being. However, the transcendence technique is unrelated to this; rather, it is a distinct method of philosophical counseling that heals individuals by drawing on fundamental philosophical insights into human nature, life, and existence.

Essentially, it is based on the philosophical insight that humans are free beings who define themselves, solve life’s problems through self-transcendence grounded in the 'transcendence of the mind.' The core of the transcendence technique lies in human nature’s 'transcendence,' which arises primarily from the 'freedom' and 'openness' of the mind. Humans are not complete beings but beings moving toward completion; through life, they realize themselves, and in this process, they experience transcendence by continuously redefining themselves within a free mind.

The essence of the transcendence technique is not to pursue supernatural or idealistic ultra-realities. Instead, it lies in the 'transcendental experience' where humans, despite being finite, continuously surpass their limitations through their minds. The characteristics of the transcendence technique are most evident in the human spirit and in life’s dynamics, which continually strive to transcend limiting conditions rather than submit to them.

The dynamism of the human mind is fundamentally based on the innate 'questions' that drive the pursuit of knowledge. As spiritual beings, humans seek epistemological alignment with the world through constant questioning. Through this process, we fundamentally arrive at the recognition of truth. In the transcendence technique, however, the question serves as the beginning of healing and becomes a method in itself. The questions in the transcendence technique are not limited to an epistemological level of merely satisfying curiosity; they aim at a deeper, more fundamental dimension of healing. 

In other words, these questions constitute a fundamental act of understanding for healing, grounded in the absolute affirmation of existence and its horizon of meaning. So, what is the relationship between questioning and healing in philosophical counseling?

The triggering of a question begins with the fundamental recognition that one does not know. The spark of questioning begins with the 'knowledge of ignorance,' an intuition that one fundamentally does not know. So, when exactly do we realize that we do not know? Socrates once drew attention to the maxim inscribed at the Temple of Apollo in Delphi, ancient Greece: 'Know thyself,' as a call to attain true wisdom. Fundamentally, we ask questions because we want to know, but the questioning of transcendental methods serves as both a starting point for healing and a process of healing in itself. This is evident in how we suddenly become aware of our ignorance and ask serious questions when confronted with fundamental problems in life, even though we usually live without conscious awareness of it. 

Such questioning is an act of healing, a way for us to overcome and transcend our own suffering and crises. When an event, situation, or object (including a person) approaches and unsettles us—or, particularly in relation to trauma and healing, when we are stranded in a limiting situation and completely lose our direction—we ask questions in an effort to reach understanding. Above all, these questions are directly related to the questions of one's existence, life, and its meaning.

The Pope's Peace Message 2026

  Happy New Year

Emphasizing an Open Heart and Gospel Humility for Peace That Makes People Lay Down Their Arms
Pope Leo XIV released a message titled 'Peace Be With You All: Towards Peace That Lays Down Arms and Makes Others Lay Down Arms' on January 1, marking the 59th World Day of Peace. Since his election as pope on May 8, 2025, and on several occasions afterward, Pope Leo has appealed for world peace, often using the distinctive expression 'laying down arms and making others lay down arms.'

In this year's message, the pope proposed a peace that comes from laying down arms, that is, a peace not based on fear or threats, as well as a peace that makes others lay down arms, a peace that resolves conflicts, opens hearts, and fosters mutual trust, empathy, and hope. He also stressed that merely calling for peace is not enough; peace must be realized through a way of life that rejects all forms of violence, whether visible or structural.

The Peace of the Risen Christ
At the beginning of his message, the pope said, 'Christ, the Good Shepherd, who lays down his life for the sheep and embraces even those sheep who are not within us, is our peace,' and added, 'He conquered death and shattered the walls of division that separate humanity.' Contrasting darkness and light, he noted, 'The presence, gifts, and victory of Christ continue to shine through countless patient witnesses and, as God's work continues in this world, it shines even more clearly in the darkness of our times.'

In the message, contrasting peace with light and violence with darkness, the pope said, 'Peace resists violence and overcomes it,' and continued, 'Even amid what Pope Francis has called a ‘sporadic Third World War,’ those who make peace draw strength from this conviction to continue resisting the spread of darkness.

Learning to Be Old

A professor in the Welfare Department of a Korean university offers readers of the Catholic Peace Weekly reflections on aging. 

Growth, aging, and death are natural developmental processes for humans. However, just as a child needs education and training to grow into a mature adult, even after becoming an adult, it takes significant learning and preparation to age gracefully into a wise senior.

Margaret Cruikshank emphasized in "Learning to Be Old" that aging is not merely a biological change but a dynamic process reconstructed within social and cultural contexts. Aging affects everyone, but outcomes depend on how individuals prepare for and adapt to it, as well as on the social norms and environments in which they grow older. Therefore, to age well, one must learn about aging.

In a super-aged society in which the elderly stage of life accounts for half of one's lifespan, early preparation and continued learning are needed to spend those long years actively and meaningfully. In the first volume of the "Gerontology in the Era of 100 Years" series, published earlier this year, the author's first question was, "Why gerontology?"

This can be summarized with three reasons. First, everyone is experiencing 'aging' due to increased life expectancy. Second, as the elderly stage of life becomes longer, its significance within life grows. Third, the final evaluation of a life inevitably comes from the perspective of the elderly stage. Therefore, failure in old age is not just half a failure; it can be considered a failure of the entire life. To spend the later years—and, more broadly, one's whole life—more meaningfully and productively, one must learn about older adults, understand aging, and prepare for old age. In this sense, gerontology is an essential subject for everyone living in the era of longevity.

So, what does it specifically mean to 'learn about aging'? Psychologist Erik Erikson defined adolescence as a crisis of identity. 'Identity' refers to the unique characteristics that determine one's existence and distinguish oneself from others. Humans continue to develop and change, thereby altering relationships with others and with society itself. 

So, what does it specifically mean to 'learn aging'? Psychologist Erik Erikson defined adolescence as a crisis of identity. 'Identity' refers to the unique characteristics that determine one's existence and distinguish oneself from others. However, humans continue to develop and change, altering relationships with others, and society itself is constantly evolving. Therefore, identity is not fixed or immutable; it changes over time as one grows older. 

Contrary to Erikson's claim, in old age, a second identity crisis can occur. William Sadler defined old age as a 'second period of growth' in his book "The Third Age: Thirty Years After Forty." This second growth is a transition to a new identity, starting not from the 'defined self' in workplaces, family, and social relationships, but from reflection on the 'life I truly want.' To establish a new second identity, deep self-reflection is essential. In old age, one must create a new 'self' in one's own way, not based on the 'socially constructed self.' One should ask and earnestly seek answers through introspection and sincere prayer, questioning what one truly likes, desires, and pursues. 

Old age is a period in which one must contemplate a new 'identity' to navigate the remaining half of life amid internal changes associated with aging and external societal changes. Ultimately, as we age, we must continually deconstruct and reconstruct our identities. This is the first step in learning to age. Happy New Year!

 

In the Catholic Peace Weekly, the seminary professor in his column, The Preciousness of Faith, has some thoughts on our efforts to make Synodality a part of Catholic Life  

After the 16th World Bishops' Synod process, which took place over three years, has concluded, we have now entered its 'implementation phase.' However, within the Church itself, it is challenging to find renewal movements aimed at synodality. This is likely due to complacency, the belief that current approaches are sufficient, and a convenience-driven avoidance of the discomfort associated with change. Yet, if the universal Church has discovered the hope of the Church in synodality under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, it is now time to actively respond to providing direction in that regard.

If one were to sum up synodality in a single phrase, it would be 'a dynamic Church that collaborates, evangelizes, and grows together in communion.' The core of synodality lies in communal discernment. 'Dialogue in the Spirit' is a method that can be applied not only in synodal meetings but also in small community or organizational gatherings. It is a moment to heed the guidance of the Spirit revealed through the words and experiences of others, with the crucial task being the formation of 'consensus' among the members. Synodality encompasses the entire process of gathering to pray, listen, dialogue, form agreements, make decisions, and take responsibility.

Synodality is undoubtedly not an easy practice, because it requires taking the longer, more difficult path. It demands gathering together to pray, dialogue, listen attentively, exercise careful consideration, and lay aside one’s own thoughts to hear God’s will through others. The greatest challenge of synodality will likely be for bishops and priests since it requires listening, coordinating, and setting aside the desire to act according to their own will.

Synodality is not merely a decision-making method; it is a shared emotion, culture, spirituality, and practice. So, what does a synodal Church that embodies synodality look like in practice?
 

He recalls Father Louis-Marie Chauvet, who was his master’s thesis advisor during studies in France and served as the parish pastor. As an expert in liturgy and the sacraments, he visited his parish with the expectation that the Mass he celebrated would be somehow different.

Contrary to his expectations, the emotional impact of the Mass was not in the 'event' itself but in the 'quality' of the celebration, namely, the lively atmosphere of the parish community. It was a community where every member of the congregation made eye contact, exchanged smiles and greetings, and welcomed one another; where everyone focused attentively on the ceremony and participated; and where liturgical ministers collaborated with the priest to ensure that the holy Mass was celebrated beautifully, encouraging and taking care of each other—truly a liturgy where everyone cooperated and participated as one. 

This 'synodal liturgy,' beautifully carried out by the entire people of God, was not a manufactured event but a reflection of the parish community's everyday life. The priest always attends various gatherings with groups of parishioners. He conducts multiple preparatory meetings for the liturgy and especially encourages parishioners to collaboratively create the parish bulletin so that they can spread God's word and parish news to neighbors, fostering a more missionary-oriented community. The priest’s life of collaboration—constantly considering parish affairs with the faithful, making decisions together, and sharing responsibility—was evident through the liturgy. A synodal church is certainly a challenge, but it is also a wonderful opportunity for the hopeful future of the Church. 

The columnist hopes the Korean Church will be reborn as a church that lives out the synodal spirit envisioned by Pope Francis.

What is Truth?

What is Truth?

 

In the Philosophy Professor's chat column in the Catholic Peace Weekly we hear an answer to Pilates question to Jesus.

 "What is truth?" When Pontius Pilate posed this question to Jesus, when His life hung in the balance, it also serves as a fundamental question addressed to all humans seeking true understanding. 'Knowledge' and 'will (aspiration)' are two essential elements of human mental activity, and humans are by nature beings who pursue knowledge. 

This knowledge is always related to 'the true,' that is, truth. However, as implied in the question, Pilate asked Jesus, understanding truth is not an easy matter.

The problem of truth has long been a central concern in epistemology, the philosophy of knowledge. As early as Plato, who argued that true knowledge does not lie in things that change and perish, but instead in the unchanging and eternal, namely the realm of the Ideals of the 'Good.' Accordingly, truth implies something permanent, eternal, and absolute.

However, our knowledge cannot reach that level and is always limited. Although all knowledge ought to inherently contain truth, due to the constraints of cognition, truth is philosophically divided into absolute truth, as knowledge that is always true, and relative truth, as limited knowledge. All human knowledge, even if based on scientific facts, can in the strict sense be considered relative truth rather than absolute truth.

Truth is fundamentally determined by the standards of the object of cognition (its essence, nature, and properties) and the form of linguistic expression. Truth signifies the correspondence between intellect and thing, which is revealed as true or false through judgment. In other words, truth is both a metaphysical-ontological matter and a linguistic-logical matter. Truth relates metaphysically to what is truly real, but it remains entirely hidden unless expressed in language.

In this regard, philosophers' perspectives on truth differ, and various corresponding theories of truth exist. Representative theories include the 'Correspondence Theory' of truth, grounded in the agreement between things and the intellect; the 'Coherence Theory' of truth, grounded in the coherence of statements; the 'Pragmatic Theory' of truth, grounded in the practical utility of statements; and approaches grounded in communication and social consensus.

There is the 'Consensus Theory,' which holds that truth is based on agreement. Today, a notable modern theory is 'Hermeneutic Truth.' At the center of this theory is Heidegger (1889–1976). He emphasized, in opposition to the traditional concept of truth, that the essence of truth lies in the function of logos, which is 'to reveal.' What does this mean? 'Logos,' or 'word,' inherently participates in statements of being and has the essential function of bringing being out from 'concealment' to make it appear as 'unconcealed.' Such 'unconcealment' of being is the meaning of the ancient Greek word for truth, 'aletheia (ἀλήθεια).' Thus, truth is an event of being that reveals itself by emerging from forgetfulness and concealment. Humans are the only beings positioned before the question of the truth of existence as beings within the world. The problem is that the world has already been understood by those who came before. 
 
According to Heidegger, 'pre-understanding'—which takes the form of 'history-culture' and 'philosophy-ideology'—foundations our current understanding but can also obstruct the recognition of new truths. When we are trapped in fixed ideas, we move away from truth, and this is precisely why we are not truly free. 

The essence of language is not the indication but 'the revelation of meaning'. The voice of conscience: a decisive moment leading to an existential decision. In extreme situations, patience and courage to face them are needed, not avoidance.

Christmas Hope!

 

A Sister of  St. Paul of Chartres has a meditation in View from the Ark of the Catholic Times on Hope.
 

On the familiar road of her hometown, on the way home, she was caught between a truck hauling a large load and a car chasing her from behind, and she was momentarily unsure what to do. It was a brief moment, but it reflected our time, when we don't know where to put our minds in the hyper-digital era.

In the midst of voices of concern that the country is on the verge of extinction due to the declining birth rate, and the movement to become a leading country in artificial intelligence (AI) by promoting economic growth, in-depth discussions on renewable energy issues, human alienation in the labor market, and ethical issues are all discussed. Some people discuss how history progresses and why it regresses.

If we go one step further in diagnosing the uncertain future that surrounds us and ask the essential question of life: what happens to the most basic food and drink that life requires, human labor remains the same, with little change. We still cook rice and trim green onions and garlic to eat. Even with digital culture in our hands, people live their daily lives with all their hearts, praying and facing pain. When fundamental rights are denied, they fight to regain them, resist with all their hearts, and stand together to pave the way to a better future.

In this era of easy change, before we can adapt to the beautiful values we want to inherit, other things rush in, and we pass super fast and don't allow ourselves to stay and look at who we are and ask what we are about, who I am, and how the world works.  

However, the religious and monks who remain silent in the presence of God and prepare for their ordination and lifelong vows are no different from the hermits who once stayed in the desert to become monks. Even amid urgent global issues that could disappear at any moment, new hope always permeates. In short, God's birth, how can we not hope in the face of this tremendous fact?

There is hope. With hope, we can once again create a unique dance that belongs to humanity. The miracle that faith brings—yes, it is. We have the space to pray and preserve together the precious values that we must strive to protect.

In our Catholic Tradition, we have many miracle stories with their history of hope. Isn't the miracle born from their prayers a long-standing sign of new hope for us? By walking this path of faith through constant daily prayer, is it not through continuing to walk in hope that our future lies?

We dedicate our existence at the close of this year, under the gracious light of this holy Christmas, to the Lord, with a passage from a poem by Cardinal John Henry Newman (1801–1890), proclaimed a Doctor of the Church by Pope Leo XIV in November this year. 

"Lead, Kindly Light, amidst th’encircling gloom,
Lead Thou me on!
The night is dark, and I am far from home,
Lead Thou me on!
Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene; one step enough for me."

A Blessed and Happy Christmas.