Virtue and Happiness

 

 

The Philosophy professor at a Catholic university offers his reflections on happiness in his Catholic Times column, drawing on St. Thomas Aquinas. 

One characteristic of modern society is an increased obsession with the joy and pleasure derived from immediate, intense rewards. This is evident in the great success of spicier, sweeter, and even "sweet and salty" foods. Also, short-form content that captures attention quickly is popular on the internet, rather than long films or lectures that encourage reflection on life. Nowadays, you can get the information you need instantly by asking AI any question without having to wait. In this situation, can activities that require time and training still retain value?

A vital reflection that prompts us to reconsider this phenomenon appears in the "Treatises on Habits" section of the Summa Theologica. Thomas Aquinas addresses this to prepare for a discussion on virtues and vices, which are closely connected to human happiness. What inspiration can his reflections offer to us who seek happiness?
 
When many hear the word "habit," they think of boring activities that involve repeating the same thing over and over again. Conversely, it's easy to believe that geniuses across fields surprise the world with unexpected, unusual actions, breaking free from habits born of endless daily repetition.

However, Thomas defines "habit" differently. The Latin word for "habit," "habitus," comes from the verb "habere," meaning "to possess," and signifies "a state in which something is well or poorly prepared. In these regulations, Thomas follows Aristotle, who held that habits differ from (temporary) states (dispositio) in being more persistent and longer-lasting. According to Thomas, these habits are something between potential (potentia) and action (actio). Therefore, a potential activated by a habit allows for better performance of the same actions in the future.
 

The artistry displayed by a great pianist is not simply talent, but a "habit" acquired through countless hours of training. A good habit that guides humans toward their natural purpose is called "virtue". 
People tend to think of animals, rather than humans, as the prime examples of habits. Furthermore, research that observes animal or even insect behavior to define human behavior reinforces this tendency. However, according to Thomas, humans can acquire strictly defined habits, but animals cannot. In the case of animals, the activity of sensory desires is given and already described along with their nature. Animals can only develop a certain degree of habituation when trained by humans.

In contrast, humans, often described as creatures of habit, are born with almost infinite potential that can be developed. However, these abilities themselves are merely seeds that can grow; to bear abundant fruit, they must acquire special "habits" through training. Therefore, for Thomas, habit, in the strict sense, is never merely a physical constitution or a simple "animal" instinct, but a property of the soul.  Thus, Thomas argues that the operative habits of the soul belong to the intellectual and volitional principles of action.

Habits acquired through repeated actions can be strengthened by training, expanding their limits.

They can be distinguished into virtues and vices based on whether they lead to natural ends.

Thomas also mentions "natural" habits, which easily grasp the principles of intellect, and "infused" habits, which help in reaching the ultimate end beyond human capacity. However, here we will focus on the more fundamental "acquired" habits for human happiness.

Generally, habits are acquired through repeated actions. While everyone possesses the same fundamental innate abilities, the habits acquired by each individual differ significantly. Because habits are abilities intentionally developed through arduous, repeated effort and are rooted in nature like a grafted value, they are called "second nature."

At the beginning of habit formation, meticulous attention and a strong will are required. As the habit strengthens, less effort is needed, and the same action can be completed more easily and smoothly. Therefore, Thomas calls habit a "principle of action." In this case, habit is not at all contrary to freedom; rather, because it is acquired, it can be considered a fruit of freedom.
 

Habits can be "increased" or "diminished". The growth of habits depends not merely on the quantity of repetitions, but on the quality and intention of the actions, and the depth of free choice. Habits are strengthened not by every action, but only by actions that are stronger and more serious than the habit itself. Therefore, athletes can perform tasks more quickly and accurately through more intense training that pushes their limits.

Conversely, a habit can be weakened by failing to act in accordance with it. To destroy an existing habit, it's not even necessary to perform opposing actions; simple laziness or idleness is sufficient. Just as one forgets most of a foreign language if they don't use it for a long time, simply not using a habit can weaken it considerably and sometimes completely eliminate it. Someone who constantly associates with intellectually inferior individuals will rapidly regress.

So, what is the relationship between habits and happiness? Like nature, habits make our actions flow more easily and pleasantly, thus becoming a condition for all progress. A genius can display such extraordinary abilities because, through habit, natural skills are perfected.

Thomas Aquinas's discussion of the strengthening and weakening of habits raises a particular question for the daily life of a person of faith: "What habits am I cultivating?" Habits are judged as good or bad depending on whether they lead a person towards their natural purpose or away from it. Thomas calls these good habits "virtues" and bad habits "vices". Habits, as the fruit of freedom, strengthen freedom itself in the case of virtues, but weaken it in the case of vices. 

Importance of Interpretation

 

The director of the Emmaus Training Center of the Korean Bishops' Conference offers the readers some reflections on aging in the Catholic Times.

During a lecture a famous doctor asked: “What is it that you eat to live long?” People answered, “You have to eat well to live long,” and “You have to endure insults to live long.” Everyone laughed heartily. However, the doctor shook his head and answered, “Age.”

Then the doctor asked another question: “What is it that you eat that causes death?” Someone answered, “Age.” The doctor replied, “Correct.” Humans live long by aging, but eventually, aging leads to death. Age is always present, but the interpretation can vary depending on the perspective from which it is viewed.

The same goes for death. Death is always present, but non-believers see it as the end of everything. That’s why they fear death. However, believers see death as the day they will meet God. The day to be reborn into eternal life, the day to enter the kingdom of God, like a caterpillar becoming a butterfly. Therefore, death can be embraced peacefully.

The same applies to faith. How we interpret our faith can influence how we live it. How did the Jewish people, a nation of faith, interpret the Babylonian exile? In the 6th century BCE, the kingdom of Judah was destroyed by the Babylonian invasion. Most people were taken into captivity in Babylon. During this harsh exile, they deeply pondered, “Why were we destroyed?”

Other nations might have interpreted their destruction like this: “Because Babylon, which was stronger than us, invaded and we lost the war.” That is an accurate interpretation. On the other hand, some might have attributed the cause to internal factors: “Because our leaders were incompetent and corrupt.”

But the Jewish people, a nation of faith, did not interpret it this way. How did they interpret it? It wasn’t because the neighboring country was strong, nor was it because we were corrupt. Then why were we destroyed? "Because we sinned against God. Because we practiced idolatry. Because we did not follow the Law." They went on to interpret it as, "If we abandon idols and serve God again, He will revive us. If we follow the life-giving Law, God will revive us again." Because of this interpretation, they focused on strictly adhering to God's Law, which eventually gave rise to Judaism. 

How one interprets an event can vary substantially. After interpreting an event, the extent to which one acts on that interpretation affects one’s life, a nation, and one’s faith.

Frugality the unpopular Virtue

 

In  the  Peace Column of the Catholic Peace Weekly,  the journalist reflects on the way we celebrate Christmas.  

As the years go by, the decorations and lights that once helped us prepare for Christmas are becoming less of a sign of anticipation and more of a device to stimulate consumption. They encourage us to buy things we don't really need. Of course, a festival should be celebrated as a festival. Preparing gifts or special meals is not the problem. Joy is meant to be shared. The problem is what, or rather, who, we put at the center of our joy.

The one we follow was born poor, lived poor, and died poor. Jesus' poverty wasn't misery, but rather an attraction. People gathered around him. At the same time, that poverty was also a condition for becoming a disciple.

A few months ago,  he wrote a column about the "least popular virtues." If purity is one of them, then poverty or the spirit of frugality would also be at the top of that list of unpopular virtues. Today, success is judged by bank account balances, evaluated by fashionable clothing, and proven by the latest gadgets, travel frequency, and the number of social media followers. This society rewards wealth and punishes poverty. The greatest punishment the poor receive is indifference.

Following Pope Francis, Pope Leo XIV also continuously revisits this theme. The Pope's recent apostolic exhortation, "I Have Loved You" (Dilexi te), is not simply a social message. It is a confession, "I have loved the poor," and a question posed to us.

Let us look at Jesus again. He came into the world with nothing, lived by the work of his hands, and left the world without even a tomb to be buried in. In the past, poverty was often a given condition of life. However, today, voluntary poverty is not a forced fate but a path we can choose. This makes it a more difficult, yet simultaneously more liberating, choice. Nevertheless, there have always been those within the Church who intentionally chose this path. Their poverty attracted people because in them, people saw not trendy leaders or "cool people," but Jesus himself.

What can we do? I would like to divide this into two aspects: personal poverty and a life dedicated to serving the poor. First, personal poverty. We live in the midst of the world. We need clothes, phones, transportation, and food. The problem is not "need," but "excess." It's about practicing letting go of things we don't truly need. If our lives are completely filled, where can God enter? The reason we strive for the spirit of poverty is because we want to live like Jesus.

Secondly, it's about dedicating ourselves to the poor. Today, poverty includes those trapped in loneliness, those struggling with addiction, those who are sick, and those in prison. The poor are always among us. How we approach them is a question we must answer in our lives.

Pope Leo XIV, in his message for the World Day of the Poor, said, "The greatest poverty is not knowing God." Caring for the poor is not just about sharing material possessions, but also about proclaiming God. Poverty cannot be solved with money; it can only be overcome with love. To love our neighbors, we must first accept God's love.

Literature and Christian Spirituality

Through the light of theology and the breath of spirituality... the fruits of literature helps us to grow. A Jesuit professor in the English department at the Korean Jesuit University provides background on the topic in his Catholic Times article.

There is a well-known quip by Cardinal John Henry Newman regarding the English term for mysticism. This word is composed of 'mist,' meaning fog, and 'schism,' meaning division, suggesting that mysticism begins in a fog and ends in division.

Although it sounds like a joke, it hints at the possibility that vague personal spiritual experiences could deviate from Church teachings. If theology is the universal teaching that transcends time and place, spirituality is a reflection on the concrete experiences of each individual. In this sense, theologians sometimes cast a wary eye on spirituality.
 

Just because the personal experiences depicted in literature do not directly use the language of Christian faith does not mean they are fundamentally different. This is because the human nature of believers and that of non-believers is fundamentally the same. The Samaritan, who was a pagan, was actually a figure walking the path of light.
 

 However, theology and spirituality do not proceed independently; rather, they form a close, fundamental relationship. While theology deals with a systematic and universal understanding of God and Christian truths, spirituality is the realm in which individuals practice and live out such understanding and truths in daily life. Spirituality is the space where the teachings of theology are put into everyday practice.

Additionally, theology tends to perceive history as a unified and universal phenomenon, whereas spirituality is the living experience of God's presence revealed within specific historical contexts. Spirituality gives life to the universal historicity of theology.
 

The primary concern of literature and Christian spirituality is precisely the experience of individual life. Not an embellished experience, but an experience as it is. Because God seeks the authentic self, just as He sought Adam and Eve, not a flawless, artificially crafted image.

The primary concern of literature and Christian spirituality is precisely the experience of individual life. Not a colored or decorated experience, but an experience as it is, raw. Because God seeks the real self, just as He sought Adam and Eve, not a flawless, artificially crafted image. 

William James argued that the essence of religion lies not in doctrine or institutions, but in the practical and concrete experiences of an individual’s feelings and actions. The Second Vatican Council also reveals a perspective on revelation not as a traditional proposition that concluded with the death of the last apostle, but as a dynamic, continually acting influence. The reason revelation must remain dynamic is that every human being is a pilgrim on the road until death.

Christian spirituality is distinguished from literature in that it understands individual experiences within the truth of Christianity. However, the fact that personal experiences depicted in literature do not employ the language of Christian faith directly does not make them markedly different from those revealed in Christian spirituality. This is because the human nature of believers and non-believers is fundamentally the same. The Samaritan, who was a pagan, was in fact walking the path of light. 

Karl Rahner, who emphasized the ‘anonymous Christian,’ proposed transcendence within ‘foundational human experiences.’ That is, even those who have not directly heard the gospel of Christ or who are outside the Church can, through their own experiences, unconsciously have transcendent experiences of the Absolute.

Research on various literary works from ancient Western times through the medieval period, the Renaissance, the modern era, and contemporary times, which explore fundamental human experiences, can be the subject of Christian spirituality. The universality of theology and the individuality of spirituality do not exist in isolation but interact with each other.

 

Sharing and Abundance

In the Sunday Talk column of the Catholic Times, a professor emeritus writes that, in his experience, it's not the numbers so much as the method that is important when it comes to sharing.  

He grew up in a large extended family. His grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins all lived together in one house. Mealtimes were always chaotic. A single bowl of soup would be placed in the center of the table, and spoons would frantically dart back and forth. The few pieces of tofu floating in the soup were always a source of competition. As the youngest, he would often have the tofu he managed to scoop up snatched away by his older siblings' chopsticks before he could even put it in his mouth. There was soup, but there was never any tofu left for him.

At the time, he thought it was because there wasn't enough food, which was unavoidable given the many siblings. However, looking back on that scene now, hes realizes the problem wasn't the quantity of food, but the way it was shared. At a table where everyone reached for the food simultaneously, there was no waiting, no consideration for others. As a result, there was food left over, but our inner selves were always hungry.

We often remember the story of the five loaves of bread and two fish from the Gospel of Mark in a similar way. We remember it as a story in which the bread multiplied, and the fish multiplied. However, if we read the story carefully, we realize that the Gospel emphasizes not the numbers, but the method. Jesus saw the crowd and felt compassion for them, not because they were hungry, but because they were like sheep without a shepherd.

Hunger is not simply a matter of the stomach. When people don't know when they will eat, who is responsible, or what to expect, they become anxious. Their hearts break before their stomachs do. The disciples' suggestion is very realistic: "Send them away so they can buy food for themselves." From today's market perspective, it's a rational solution. It means everyone is responsible for themselves and should solve their own problems.

But Jesus' words are completely different: "You give them something to eat."

Jesus first had the people sit down in groups of 50 and 100. He calmed the chaos and prepared everyone to receive. In a disorderly setting, even an abundance of food can lead to conflict. Sharing begins only when order is established. This scene quietly demonstrates the preparation that precedes eating.

Then, Jesus looked up to heaven and offered a prayer of thanksgiving. This pre-meal gratitude is not merely a formality. It's the moment when food transforms from "my rightful share" to "a gift entrusted to me today." Possession leads to competition, but a gift opens the door to sharing. This confession is embedded in the short prayer we offer before meals.

The bread doesn't go directly from Jesus' hands to the crowd. It's passed through the disciples. The miracle doesn't remain in the hands of one person: it's completed through participation and distribution. Everyone ate their fill, and twelve baskets of leftovers remained. This isn't excess, but a sign of abundance. Having enough to eat and still having leftovers—that's the abundance the Bible speaks of.

If we apply this story to our own dinner tables today, it raises questions. Do we truly lack resources, or is it the order of sharing that has broken down? Before increasing the quantity, have we first established order? Before eating, have we given thanks?

His childhood memory of the tofu in the soup bowl now holds a different lesson. Jesus' miracle wasn't about changing the quantity of bread, but about changing the relationships between people. A ​​miracle is still possible at our dinner tables today. However, that miracle begins not with numbers, but with the way we share. 

Why Monasteries?

 

The Catholic Times conducted an interview with a priest who has led pilgrimages to monasteries for nearly 20 years. What lingered in the interviewer's mind was not any specific answers to questions she may have had, but the feeling she was left with. 

There were ample explanations for why this journey had lasted so long, but what ultimately stayed with her was the question of 'why do people seek monasteries?' This question goes beyond personal preferences or spiritual experiences and prompts reflection on what has sustained Christian faith over time.

The paths to the monastery pilgrimages were always the same. The mere fact that it had continued for a long time was not the point. A monastery is not a place for adding more, but a place where one gradually removes unnecessary layers to reveal the essence. In this sense, these pilgrimages were primarily a process of reaffirming the core, source, goal, and path of faith within the monastery.

While conducting the interview, she was reminded of the power that an old monastery holds. Monasteries began from a desire to live out perfect gospel values; the monks have repeatedly fallen, failed, and risen again. Gospel perfection is not an ideal achieved at once, but the result of choices that embrace human weakness and never gives up.
 

Viewed this way, monastery pilgrimages are not a longing for the past. In an era in which religion is often treated as a choice, it is a process of asking where faith originally began. Rather than seeking a better experience, it is closer to confirming the form of life in which faith first took root.

Seeking a monastery ultimately means asking these kinds of questions. Isn't it about asking yourself whether you can, today, choose once again the essence that the church never ultimately let go of and considered central? 

 

Ecumenical Week Jan. 18-25

 

Together Embracing the Cheongju Martyrdom Site: Seowoon-dong Parish of the Cheongju Diocese and Cheongju First Presbyterian Church. This article appeared in Catholic Peace Weekly as an example of Ecumenical Cooperation. 

Churches observe Ecumenical Week annually from January 18 to 25, the feast of the conversion of Saint Paul the Apostle. During this period, Christians from various denominations pray together for 'full unity' according to Christ's will, 'that they may all be one' (John 17:21). In celebration of Ecumenical Week, the Weekly introduced the relationship between Seowoon-dong Parish of the Cheongju Diocese and Cheongju First Presbyterian Church. These two pastors have worked together on a site honoring martyrs from the Byeongin Persecution period. The place where Blessed Oh Ban-ji, Kim Jun-gi, and others were martyred... Creating a 'Martyrs' Garden' through inter-denominational cooperation.
 

The area was a government office where troops were stationed during the Joseon Dynasty. The Cheongju garrison led to the arrest of believers not only in Cheongju but also across Chungcheong Province following the 1866 Byeongin Persecution.
 

The roots of First Church trace back to 1904, when missionary Min Noah from the United States established Cheongju Eup Church. To honor the historical significance of the place as 'holy ground' where Catholic believers had been martyred, Pastor Min moved the church to this location in 1905. The founder's intention continues to be carried on by the Church today. 
 

 “The will of Missionary Min is still engraved in the hearts of the congregation,” adding, “Jeil Church is a church that has grown and flourished with the blood of Catholic martyrs as its seed.” The desire of Seowon-dong Parish and Jeil Church to remember the faith of martyrs, regardless of denomination, resulted in the joint creation of the Martyrs' Garden. 

The impetus came from the Seowon-dong Parish which began in early 2021. Until that project, only a marker indicating the martyr site was placed on the garden site. At that time the parish priest, asked Jeil Church for cooperation to transform the site into a proper sacred place, and the church’s decision-making body, unanimously approved it. Jeil Church provided the area closest to the actual presumed martyr site as the Martyrs' Garden, and the parish covered the costs of its creation. Additionally, the parish also covered the costs of establishing the 'Min Garden' to honor the historical significance of Jeil Church in the Cheongju area. 

Jeil Church still bears bullet marks from the Korean War and has contributed to the local community through education, social welfare, and the democratization movement. Representatives from the parish and Jeil Church attended the blessing ceremony held on August 26, 2021. Since the creation of the Martyrs' Garden, over 7,000 Catholic pilgrims have visited each year, and Jeil Church members have never once raised a complaint. Min's intentions are still engraved in the hearts of the congregation. 

After the martyr’s park was created, a scroll inscribed with ‘Goban (苦伴)’ gifted by a parishioner from Seowoon-dong Parish was hung in Pastor Lee’s office. The pastor explained, “‘Goban’ means becoming friends through suffering,” and said, “We consider it a symbol of unity between the two churches, signifying that we are already brothers and sisters in the face of the suffering and cross of Jesus Christ, and we cherish and keep it with care.” On the path of Christian unity, the pastor emphasized, “We must not forget that we are to be united in Christ beyond doctrinal differences,” and expressed his hope, “I hope that more opportunities for interfaith harmony and Christian unity will emerge.” The pastor stated, “We are all beings made in God’s image,” adding, “Doctrines can divide us, but in practical areas such as peace, justice, and the preservation of creation, we can combine our efforts and act together, achieving unity in anything we do”.