Philosophy 101
by Jeffrey Wald
It was
Wednesday. 8:55 a.m. Soon a troop of St.
Bairfhion Catholic College freshman would
languidly saunter into Dr. Plat’s Philosophy
101 class. Professor Plat sat at the desk in the
front of the classroom, his eyes entranced by the
northwest corner of the room where the walls met
the ceiling. What thought produced that wrinkled
brow, that hardened mouth and look of deep
consternation? Was he pondering today’s
lesson, Aquinas’s Five Proofs for God’s
Existence? Or maybe he had a breakthrough in his
article on the ontology of the National Labor
Relations Board?! Alas, no such thoughts pervaded
his mind. Instead, he was simply trying to
remember whether he had set the DVR to record The
Bachelor that evening since he had a faculty
meeting and would miss it. That uncertainty, and
the turkey bacon he had consumed that morning,
had put his stomach in a swoon.
The first
sleep-deprived, pajama-wearing, miniature-adults
began sauntering into the classroom at 9:03.
Professor Plat arose and stood by the white board.
He wore a short-sleeved white oxford shirt with
buffet stains down the front, and a polka dot tie
that was at least 2-feet too short. He smelled
like a mobile Starbucks.
“Good
morning students. Good morning. Please take your
seats,” he said as a critical mass of
students had now assembled. It was 9:08.
Professor Plat proceeded to take roll.
“Ms. Wade?”
Silence.
“Mr.
Banks?”
Silence.
“Ms.
Nordstrom.”
Silence again.
Professor Plat continued reading off the names of
the class enrollment. 10 of 16 students were
present. A quorum!
“Alright
class, let’s get started. Today we shall be
discussing Aquinas’s Five Proofs for the
Existence of God. I hope you found the reading
stimulating.”
Ms. Wollstone
yawned in the corner. A heavy aroma of Ron Diaz
hung around her, and a frothy iced latte sat next
to her on her desk.
“As we
always do, let’s start with a brief
biography of today’s philosopher. Mr. Toole,
tell me something about St. Thomas.”
“The
intro said he was dumb. Don’t know why we’d
read philosophy from a dumb person,”
responded Mr. Toole.
“Very
good Mr. Toole. His teachers did call him the
‘dumb ox.’ Why do you suppose they
called him that?”
“Cuz he
was stupid I suppose.”
“Not
quite. He was big for his age. And very bright.
He sat in a stupor contemplating the nature of
being as his peers played goose the girl and his
teachers taught spelling lessons. He was likely
bored and unchallenged. His teachers didn’t
recognize his brilliance.”
“Proves
that teachers don’t know a thing,” Mr.
Toole said smugly.
“Thanks
for your great insight Mr. Toole. Anyone else
have anything to add about St. Thomas?”
“He
chased a naked prostitute out of his room with a
burning stick” stated the seminarian, Mr.
Alberts.
“You sure
she didn’t run out of her own free will when
she laid eyes on the ‘dumb ox’?”
responded Mr. Toole.
“That’s
enough commentary from the peanut gallery Mr.
Toole. Why do you suppose he did that Mr. Alberts?”
“Love of
God. His parents were nobles and they didn’t
want him to become a Dominican. So they locked
him in a tower and tempted him.”
“Love of
God you say” responded Professor Plat.
“Some say love of philosophy. It’s told
he spent all his time in the tower writing
metaphysical treatises.”
“No
offense prof,” retorted Mr. Toole, “but
ain’t nobody loves this class enough to turn
away a hooker.”
“Mr.
Toole that’s quite enough! Please use
language befitting a philosophy discussion. Let’s
get on with class.” It was now 9:21. “Ms.
Miller, could you tell us one of Aquinas’s
proofs for God’s existence?” asked the
professor, doing his best imitation of the
Socratic method.
“The
cosmetological?”
Mr. Alberts
rolled his eyes. Mr. Toole smirked. Ms. Wollstone
snored.
“Very
close Ms. Miller. The word you’re looking
for is ‘cosmological.’ And it’s
actually a whole category of Aquinas’s
arguments. Four of the five proofs are labeled
‘cosmological.’ Ms. Miller, can you
summarize those arguments for the class?”
“They
deal with stars and stuff, right? Like horoscopes?”
Professor Plat
shook his head solemnly. “Not quite. Anyone
else in class want to help Ms. Miller out?”
Immediately
the seminarian’s hand shot up. Professor
Plat begrudgingly shook his head up and down, in
acknowledgement that the seminarian could begin
his exegesis.
Mr. Alberts
proceeded to enunciate Aquinas’s proofs. “The
first four proofs, as you noted Professor Plat,
are all cosmological proofs for God’s
existence. They are 1) the argument from motion,
2) the argument from causation, 3) the argument
from contingency, and 4) the argument from the
gradation of being.”
At some point
during the seminarian’s oral treatise, Ms.
Wollstone awoke with a jerk, her right hand
convulsively flinging out and knocking over her
latte. Its creamy contents spread over the floor
and onto the brick wall. Like an epileptic after
an episode, Ms. Wollstone then resumed her
snoring.
Professor Plat
ignored the interruption and set to work listing
the arguments on the whiteboard in black marker.
As he was writing “the argument from caus…,”
a noise like a small boy playing a trumpet
emitted from his backside. Professor Plat
pretended that nothing was amiss and went on
writing. The students looked at one another with
knowing glances. Mr. Toole chuckled.
“Alright
Mr. Alberts, you have correctly named Aquinas’s
four cosmological proofs for God’s existence.
Now, can you please try to explain them to the
class?”
“Well
they proceed from the principle that nothing
comes from nothing. All things inferior point to
the superior. All effects have causes. And
causation can’t go back ad infinitum,
that would be absurd!” extolled the
seminarian in rhetorical flourish.
“Right,
like that fart a minute ago from the front of the
class!” interjected Mr. Toole. “It must
have come from somewhere. Or rather someone.”
“Of what
flatulence do you speak Mr. Toole?”
responded the professor, feeling accused. “Are
you talking potty humor again?”
“No sir!
I’m merely reporting what I heard. And
trying to assist Mr. Alberts with his brilliant
synopsis.”
“Well I
don’t know what you’re talking about,”
Professor Plat lied. “You’ve gone too
far this time Mr. Toole with your crass jokes.
Now please class, let’s get back on topic.”
He glanced up at the classroom clock. It was now
9:37.
“Proof
that God does not exist!” Mr. Toole
thundered, jumping up from his seat. “An
effect without a cause! An unmoved movement! Mark
it in your notes today fellow students, today is
a monumental day. For today is the day that our
very own Bairfhion lecturer, Professor James P.
Plat, has once and for all toppled the ‘dumb
ox.’” His voice rose in a crescendo,
again awaking Ms. Wollstone who, upon noticing
her lava of iced latte flowing around her, picked
up her backpack and left. Mr. Alberts sat
gloomily. Professor Plat blushed.
“Really,
Mr. Toole, I don’t know what you’re
talking about. But let’s put this whole
distraction aside and try to learn something
today. We’ve one more proof to go. Who can
tell me what it is?”
“It’s
the teleological argument,” quickly
responded a young student dressed in black,
heretofore completely silent. “It posits
that the world is full of non-rational natural
bodies, behaving in set, predictable ways,
working apparently toward some end or goal. The
non-rational bodies could not direct themselves
to this rational end. So, the argument goes, this
behavior must be set by an intelligent creator
outside the objects themselves. Like a watch and
a watchmaker. It’s all a bunch of rubbish if
you ask me.” (The student had been watching
a lot of Guy Ritchie movies lately.)
“Now Mr.
Niese,” said the professor, “why say
you it’s all a ‘bunch of rubbish?’”
“Aquinas
begs the question! The question being, of course,
whether the world is rational, and logical, and
orderly. Aquinas ipso facto declares
that it is! But this is contrary to the evidence
all around us. What of the cancerous cells that
lurk in man’s body for no apparent reason
than to make him suffer and die? Or why does the
mother sloth eat her own newborns? Think also of
the maniac, fitting within Aquinas’s
subspecies of non-rational bodies, who acts not
in an orderly predictable way, but uncontrollably
and out of madness. No, I think the evidence
clearly proves that this world is a cold, cruel,
chaotic place that could not have been ordained
by an intelligent creator. A madman perhaps, but
not a rational, loving god.”
As Mr. Niese
was proclaiming his opinions, the seminarian’s
face grew more and more livid. Finally, he could
take it no longer and burst out:
“But what
about the sunflower seed, planted in cool spring
ground that lifts its leafy head out of the black
earth and follows the sun on its daily rise and
descent? Or what of the human heart, more
powerful than a V8 engine, pushing and pumping
blood and daily sustaining your sorry life
without a second’s thought from you! Or
consider the Arctic Tern, traveling 44,000 miles
from pole to pole each year to preserve its life!
Look at these examples, and so many others from
nature, and convince me that God does not exist!
“Wow, the
next Emily Dickinson in our midst,” quipped
Mr. Niese.
“If you
don’t believe in God, why would you come to
a Catholic college?” shouted the seminarian.
“Tuition
is cheaper by half. My dad works here.”
Professor Plat
took this brief break in the argument to turn his
back on his students and glance up at the clock
behind him. As he did, a middle school student
trumpeted behind him.
“Again,
nature reveals her proof for the nonexistence of
God!” bellowed Mr. Toole. “We have been
twice visited today! We should all get A’s
for debunking Aquinas’s Five Ways!”
Mr. Toole was
standing on his chair. Mr. Alberts arose too,
fists drawn. Mr. Niese sat back with a smirk,
enjoying what he was about to witness. Ms. Miller
screamed. The rest of the class finally looked up
from their iPhones, considering whether to
livestream the forthcoming fisticuff.
Just when
Professor Plat was about to intervene, the bell
rang. It was 10 a.m. Class was over. “Thanks
be to God!” thought the professor to himself.
“Saved by the providence and grace of God!”
“Class
dismissed! See you Friday!” Professor Plat
wiped his brow, hurriedly scooped up his
belongings, and headed toward his office. He had
just enough time before his 10:15 class began to
call his wife and ask if she could leave work to
make sure the DVR was taping. But first he had to
make a quick pit stop in the boy’s room.
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