Advancement?

“There’s a dichotomy of simplicity and complexity that is embodied in the Renaissance.” –Stephanie Roberts

           

            As Stephanie, Jacob, Devan, Kevin, Sean and I sat talking, discussing the various aspects of the Renaissance, I was struck by the dual personality that this era seems to have. On one hand there seems to be this emphasis on making things simple, clearer. The Protestant Reformation sought to make religion more accessible to the common man. Sola scriptura, Sola fide—only scripture and only faith were necessary for salvation. Gone were the Catholic sacraments.

            But on the other hand, some things seemed to get increasingly more complex. The list of expected qualities in a courtier began expanding. Not only was one expected to be sociable, wellborn, and smart, but they also needed to be a master of fencing, horseback riding, bull fighting, hunting, etc. And to top it all off, they had to make it look effortless.

            That need to make it seem effortless is perhaps the truest symptom of this split. When both simplicity and complexity are valued, the complex must be made to appear simple.

Why We Do What We Do

William Shakespeare said, “It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.” This quote kept coming to mind as we talked about the individuals and themes of the renaissance. As the discussion progressed from Petrarch’s experience on the top of mount Ventoux to the influence that William Shakespeare had on England I could not help but ask myself, what was it that drove all these philosophers, authors, theologians, and artist to make the impact that they had on society? How were all these individuals able to find it within themselves to go against the norm and create something new?   

The Renaissance of the Butterfly and the Human Spirit

    Quoth Erasmus, in contemplating the role of free will, “If you keep thinking about what you want to do, or what you hope to do, you don’t do it and it won’t happen.”

    I find something very reassuring in the fact that God can create a butterfly out of a caterpillar. Think about it for a minute. There’s this squiggly, ugly, hairy thing—very unattractive in form and outward appearance—that wraps itself up, goes to sleep for awhile, and poof! Magical transformation, right? Wrong, at least on some counts. The actual science behind it is a bit more…well, messy, shall we say. Sparing the details, the point is that the potential contained in that ugly caterpillar is not something we can easily recognize, no matter how closely we examine it. Aren’t humans much the same? There is a spark of the divine wrapped inside, and it may be necessary to shed some things, dissolve some others, and rebuild from the basics to regenerate and grow into what we can become. We become through a process.

    Erasmus had no priest at his bedside when he died, perhaps because he was able to intuit that if the inner man wasn’t aligned with God and His purpose for him, any outward manifestation wouldn’t matter. His relationship with God was a private matter; it was not dependent on a priest or a facilitator. It makes me pause and wonder what miracles of growth we miss by being passive, rather than being an active participant in our own lives? Humanism in the Renaissance period focused on the potential and value of the individual. Do we see ourselves more collectively than individually; do we become what others say we are, rather than what we feel we are, or should be?

    Can we become more than the caterpillar who spends most of his life ingesting material in a frenzy to survive and then wraps himself up in self-preservation? They may be necessary steps in his progression, but they are only that—steps. As we reflected in our “salon” conversation, it is the application of what we know that matters. Exploration is necessary--even desirable--in life. What strengths can we uncover through testing and trying? Why do we fear reaching beyond the known? Life has its mud puddle and rainstorm days; it gets messy. Mistakes aren’t generally fatal, although we often regard them as such.

    For all of his dogged, focused determination to foster reform and change, combined with a seemingly uncompromising attitude, Martin Luther has been quoted as saying, “If I am not allowed to laugh in heaven, I don’t want to go there.” I agree! I know of no other way to survive—to enjoy—life than by employing what I call “battle humor.” I am happiest when I can laugh at myself and not take offense when others laugh with me. I am evolution in front of your eyes. The master isn’t finished with me yet; I am still finding my wings.

Sola Scriptura: How Anyone Can Know God

“If God spare my life, before very long I shall cause a plough boy to know the scriptures better than [priests] do!” -- William Tyndale

It can be said that the spirit of the Renaissance really culminated in the Protestant Reformation, which was a veritable rebirth of religious spirit and connection with God sparked by the perceived materialism and of the Catholic Church. Tyndale, who is best known for translating the bible into English, believed like many that a priest was an unnecessary intermediary between an individual and God, that what was really necessary was faith and the scriptures.

Humanized Accountability: Petrarch and Machiavelli's Happy Medium?

I found it interesting what Spencer M had to say about Machiavelli's leadership style. As we learned in class, Petrarch and Machiavelli didn't see eye to eye. I found it interesting that Petrarch advocated for the continuity between the Classical culture and Christianity. Another source I found explains that Petrarch believed an effective leader should be loving and merciful the way a father is to his children. If a leader takes the time to gain the trust and love of his or her people, it will be much easier for them to be loyal to you. I understand that Machiavelli found fear and power more effective tools, but I think too much fear can cause frustration and/or rebellion in the masses. (King Louis XIV was neither caring nor loving and look where that got him...just saying.)

Today while I was editing a blog post for my boss, I realized it was Petrarch vs. Machiavelli all over again. In his post my boss shared a story of how he motivated his employees to perform better when he was a housekeeping manager at a hotel. He said at first he tried to be loving and motivate them. He attended his employees' children's baptisms and brought donuts to the office on Fridays. He motivated them so effectively he said they could have won the world cup. But despite those efforts, their review scores didn't change.

So then he went all Machiavelli on them and tried to be harsh and angry and make them understand how upset he was. He even wore all black to work for a few days. That didn't work either. And then, he found a balance. He decided to bring each employee in one by one and review their personal scores with them. This personal accountability humanized the process so that he didn't seem like an evil person, but was able to instill a more personal type of fear for each employee. Knowing that the boss was measuring their personal scores held employees accountable and made them compete against themselves.

I would have never thought that Machiavelli's and Petrarch's leadership styles would reflect in a blogpost written for LinkedIn, but it made me realize that there is always something we can learn from many opinions of philosophy. Either way, I prefer the more humanist approach, siding with Petrarch. Compromise for the win.

@GutenbergHumanist

I don't know about you, but I love social media. Whether it's Facebook, Twitter, blogs, or Instagram, I love how easy it is to hear and be heard. Nowadays, social media has become a buzzword of sorts. But what would you say if I told you this buzz started over 550 years ago? Thanks to Johannes Gutenberg, the ways we spread our thoughts around in the western world have been changing more and more since 1450.

In his post “From Gutenberg to Facebook?”, Sean M. argues that Facebook (and I’ll take the liberty here of applying his argument to all forms of social media) follows the legacy of the printing press in its spread of information. I couldn’t agree more. He then goes on to discuss how the development of social media has led to both greater connection and disconnection from those around us, asking the question “What would Gutenberg think?” I however, want to focus on the question of “why has the spread of information led to greater connectedness and disconnectedness simultaneously?”

Renaissance Swag: Why Desiderius Erasmus Was Called the "Prince of Humanists"

“Happiness is reached when a man is ready to be what he is.” (Desiderius Erasmus, 1466-1536)

As we browse the various Colleges within any major University we are sure to see one labeled Humanities. These Colleges developed directly from the rich historical philosophies and traditions within Humanism—a branch of classical philosophy called, in Latin, “humanitas”—which was reintroduced in Italy during the early European Renaissance by the scholar Petrarch (as explained by Joseph Pearson in his blog post, “Reborn from the ashes”). Why then, if Petrarch helped facilitate the rebirth of Humanism, was Desiderius Erasmus called the “Prince of Humanism”? Well, it boils down to the following: When it came to Humanism, Erasmus was a man that practiced what he preached; we rarely find those two actions in congruence.

            

Though he educated himself at many renowned Universities, Erasmus considered himself an independent and nonpartisan scholar. He embraced a system of thought that gave primacy to human beings rather than the divine (though he expressed deep respect for the Catholic Magisterium). With correspondences to more than five-hundred men involved in politics and philosophy, Erasmus was at the center of the literary movement in his generation. He was an example that we can emulate in 2015 by speaking up and speaking on important issues.

Erasmus challenged the medieval views of Academia and the Catholic Church with his satirical writing by addressing the innate value and potential of human beings as well as the issues we all face. To top it off, Erasmus accomplished his influence—entering many discussions with serious religious topics and political figures—without taking sides or being marginalized by political leaders. The scholars that he corresponded with respected the way he expressed his humanist ideals. That, my friends, is Humanitarian Swag—when we can persuasively argue yet still be agreeable.     

The Cradle of Humanism

The Inspiration for the European Renaissance

While reading the funeral oration as delivered by Peracles I couldn't also help but think of the leaders of the American revolution, I imagined them reading similar works and being influenced by them. For, as addressed sufficiently by Macey, James, and Ryan, many ideas mentioned exactly reflect the "American Dream" and the guiding thoughts that created modern democracy. But then my thoughts turned to the European renaissance when society began to adopt greater humanistic ideas; these ideas emerged because people began reading works similar to this oration. The ancient Greeks clearly placed value on the individual working to better him/herself so that they could actively contribute to society. Freedom was emphasized, they took great pride in the fact that they were splitting from the norm. 

Audience and Pathos

I'm always fascinated by how an audience influences one giving a speech and how it changes the rhetorical devices and forms used. I completely agree with what James posted about the kairos of Peracles' speech, and what he briefly mentioned about how Peracles personified Athens. I feel that Peracles knew his audience, and accordingly formed his speech to inspire within them ideals to benefit the community. His speech is replete with humanist ideas that he presents with great pathos in order to inspire the community. 

Moral Absolution 

I felt some form of moral force govern the thoughts Pericles used. He presented the ideals of Athens as morally the most correct of ideals. That being said, I don't feel I agree completely with Ryan and Macey's analysis that he was following the Sophist order of things. I feel that it was a bit more Socratic because it seems to me that he genuinely felt the things he was addressing were a question of morality. I don't think that he was pragmatic, he certainly didn't claim that he didn't have absolute knowledge; on the contrary he spoke with absolution guided by beliefs that seemed to be deeply planted within him. Perhaps in the sense that he used public speaking as a way to get his point across he was in line with the Sophists, but the philosophies behind his ideas felt far more Socratic.