The Virtue of TemperanceDOUG MCMANAMAN
Temperance is the first virtue that perfects man’s ability to act well with one’s self from within one’s self.
Temperance is primarily about desires for the greatest pleasures, and the greatest pleasures result from the most natural operations, which are those that have as their purpose the preservation of the individual and the preservation of the species.
That is why the greatest pleasures are to be found in the consumption of food and drink and in the union of the sexes. And so temperance is properly about "pleasures of meat and drink and sexual pleasures." These pleasures, moreover, result from the sense of touch. Thus, temperance is principally about the pleasures of touch, and secondarily about the pleasures of taste, smell, sight and sound insofar as the objects of these latter senses, ie., the smell of food, the sight of a beautiful body, etc., are conducive to the pleasurable use of things that are related to the sense of touch.
The measure of temperance is the order of reason. The determination of the mean of reason depends upon the real needs of the present time. It depends upon intelligible human goods (life, truth, beauty, leisure, sociability, religion, etc). As we said above, the good has the aspect of an end. Human goods are intelligible ends. A good life on the whole is one that is ordered to its proper end, which is the possession of God. The good of virtue consists in that order; for the proper end of a thing is the rule and measure of whatever is directed to the end, and everything within the human person is to be directed to the supreme end, which is the possession, in knowledge and love, of the Supreme Good.
But there are a number of intelligible human goods that motivate the human person who is himself ordered to this supreme end, and the pleasurable activities of eating and drinking are evidently ordered to the intelligible end of human life, that is, its preservation. The rule and measure of sexual desire will also be discovered in the intelligible ends of the sexual powers.
The mean of virtue here is not a real mean, as in the case of justice, but a mean of reason. The mean of justice is often a real mean, for instance, if one is robbed of twenty dollars, the real mean between excess and deficiency will be twenty dollars, not fifteen, and not fifty. But determining the mean of temperance is not so simple a matter. One cannot say that 8 ounces of Corn Flakes constitute the mean of temperance when it comes to eating a bowl of cereal for breakfast. The mean depends upon the needs of the individual person and his circumstances. A large breakfast may very well be reasonable for the mailman who is required to walk twenty kilometers that day, but it may be excessive for the one who is only required to drive a bus.
Furthermore, the mean of reason in this case does not refer to a measure that is based on the strict needs of this life. St. Thomas understands necessity in two ways. There is the necessity of that "without which something cannot be at all." But there is also the necessity for something "without which a thing cannot be becomingly."
Temperance embraces both meanings of necessity. Some things, Thomas argues, are a hindrance to a person's health and to a "sound condition of body." Temperance makes no use of these, despite the availability of Malox or any other medicines designed to combat the effects of unhealthy eating so as to allow others to continue to enjoy the foods that do so much harm to the stomach or the arteries, etc. But temperance makes moderate use of those things that are not a hindrance to health and a sound condition of body, and uses them according to the demands of the situation in which one finds oneself. It is thus not contrary to temperance to desire other pleasant things that are not strictly necessary for health, as long as they are congruent with the demands of place and time. So for instance, it is not necessarily immoderate to snack on potato chips or popcorn while watching a movie with some friends, or to enjoy some appetizers at a Christmas party.
Insensibility is one vice opposed to temperance. Pleasure itself is not evil, but is part and parcel of the natural operations that are necessary for man's survival. Hence it is fitting and reasonable that we make use of these pleasures to the degree that they are necessary for our well-being (our own, or that of the species). To reject pleasure to the extent of omitting things that are necessary for our preservation is unreasonable and immoderate. Moreover, the use of reason depends upon the health of the body, and the body is sustained by means of food and drink. It follows that the good of human reason cannot be maintained were we to abstain from all pleasures.
And so temperance brings about a spiritual beauty that in many ways overflows into the body, especially the face of a person. A woman might be, from a strictly physical point of view, stunningly beautiful and a perfect candidate for a successful modeling career. But often it happens that after a few moments of conversation with such persons, their beauty thins out and begins to ring hallow. As Thomas writes: "a thing may be becoming according to the senses, but not according to reason." Conversely, the appearance of an average looking woman can begin to acquire a beauty and attraction that is not immediately evident from a consideration of her physical features alone. This is the spiritual beauty that comes from the excellence and honorable state resulting from the cultivation of the virtue of temperance, the beauty of a heart that recoils from the disgrace that is contrary to temperance and a love of the honor that belongs to it; in short, the beauty of an unselfish heart.
It makes no difference whatever to virtue what or how much food a man takes, so long as he does it with due regard for the people among whom he lives, for his own person, and for the requirements of his health: but it matters how uncomplainingly he does without food when bound by duty or necessity to abstain.
Inordinate appetite for food is more common than the imagination tends to allow. As an example, consider a Christmas party with a buffet lunch or supper. One will come across people if one hasn't already, who when in the process of stacking their plates, have little regard for those in line behind them. It seems to matter little that there will not be enough for many others if they continue to take what they judge to be their need, a judgment no doubt clouded by inordinate appetite. Their ability to consider others has been drastically compromised, and where there should be a spirit of celebration and friendship in the air, one seems to detect a spirit of loneliness and alienation. Note also the current popularity of "All-You-Can-Eat" buffets. Here people feel they need to get their money's worth, and so they believe it their right to eat until they can no longer so much as gaze at another plate without feeling ill. And how many would be surprised to read of Augustine speaking of abstaining uncomplainingly? It is very rare today that one will come across a person complaining of having to go without food, since most people simply choose not to – despite the religious requirements of Lent.
The principal purpose of fasting is to bridle the lusts of the flesh. Thomas refers to fasting as the guardian of chastity. Contemporary popular culture has taken lust as "the mean" of virtue, the only criterion for sexual vice being the violation of a person's will (rape). There are a number of reasons for this, but the principal reason has to do with what is commonly regarded as the ultimate end of human life (or that which gives life meaning). If the purpose of human existence is simply the complete and ongoing satisfaction of the self's personal passions without reference to intelligible goods such as life, marriage, justice, or religion, then self-love is the only kind of love that is possible for the human person.
The failure of marriages today is testimony to our inability to achieve, as a culture, a disinterested love. But the battle against self-love is difficult, for it is a battle for personal freedom, the freedom to live for love – a disinterested and holy love. The way to begin this battle is to fast, for almost every aspect of our culture revolves around the celebration of food and sexual pleasure. Freedom from the negative influence of this culture as a condition of freedom for genuine love begins at the locus of the concupiscible passion for food.
Secondly, one fasts so that the mind may rise more freely to the contemplation of truth. As a culture, we tend to be indifferent to truth. In fact, the denial of truth in any objective sense of the word has become quite popular, in particular in the area of morality. No doubt this lack of interest in truth has its roots in popular culture's almost exclusive preoccupation with sensible goods. For as one approaches the sensible, one at the same time moves away from the intelligible. Excessive sensuality compromises one's interest in the realm of the intelligible. The sensual mind is darkened on account of its almost exclusive immersion into the realm of matter, and it thereby shares in matter's opacity.
But in what way does gluttony bring virtue to naught? Inordinate desire for food and drink gives rise to a host of offspring. Firstly, on the part of the intellect. We have already seen that attachment to the pleasures of touch compromises one's interest in the realm of the intelligible. But gluttony is already an immersion into matter that is unreasonable, and so the mind is dulled, for it has been drafted into the service of inordinate appetite. This affects prudence, for prudence has the intellect as its subject. And prudence is the mother of the virtues, for without prudence, there is no virtue.
Thomas includes "unseemly joy" as a vice arising from gluttony, a "random riotous joy," he says in another place. This is the disingenuous joy of the "Jolly Rogers" type of fellow, a joy that the shrewd will find suspect. One easily detects that the slightest change of circumstance that causes inconvenience will quickly bring down this fragile house of cards, which is a false joy.
Loquaciousness, or inordinate words, is another offspring of the gluttonous heart. We all know people who can't seem to "shut up", or who "love to hear themselves talk." Consider that the emotion of love (not the love that is an act of the will) amounts in the end to a love of self, for as St. Thomas says, we cannot say that we love that which we choose to destroy, such as the wine we consume or the apple we eat. It is the self that is loved in the love of these things. That is why inordinate love of food and drink amounts to inordinate self-love. And this is the root of the habit of loquaciousness. The loquacious love to be the center of attention and for some reason believe that others delight in them about as much as they delight in themselves. And so they employ their words to that end, namely, being the object of others' attention. As long as they are talking, others have no choice but to listen, and so they prolong their discourse as long as circumstances allow, if not longer. And the matter of their conversation will almost always center around themselves in some way, either directly or indirectly.
Scurrility, or unbecoming words, is a vice that springs from gluttony, for it proceeds from a loss of sense and a lack of awareness that is also part and parcel of inordinate self-love. The self is so focused on itself that awareness of others as "other" has virtually disappeared. One is aware of the other as "spectator" or onlooker who cannot but delight in what he sees and hears. Consider what is implied in the expression: "If only you could hear yourself now." They are too immersed in themselves to know how their words really affect others outside of themselves. This is especially the case with regard to alcoholic drink. As Thomas says: "…it hinders the use of reason even more than excessive eating."
The problem with intemperance is precisely this inordinate self-love, which is the reverse of a genuine love that loves the other as other. In genuine disinterested love, I become all others whom I love. I expand and become more than what I am in myself. With inordinate self-love, all others become me, and my love is thereby self-centered.
But marriage itself is a freely intended joining of two into one flesh, one body. It is a unique relationship, established by a mutual self-giving. And since a human person is his body, that self-giving includes in its meaning the giving of one's body to another. This self-giving is mutual. It is this relationship that the two will for one another and establish by a free consent. And that is why marriage is consummated by the couple's first act of sexual intercourse. In this act, the two become one body. This first act, moreover, must be fully expressive of the integral meaning of the sex act if it is to consummate this union.
The sexual act ought to be expressive of a genuinely disinterested love, a love that wills good for the other as another self. The intense pleasure that accompanies this act makes this very difficult to do, and almost impossible if one's sole source of moral direction is contemporary popular culture. Loving another for what he does for me is nothing more than self-love, and it is all too easy for the sex act to become little more than an instance of this kind of self-centeredness. The problem with self-love with regard to the sexual act is that the means of the benefit that accrues to the self (pleasure) is another human person, and to use a person is to abuse a person. That is why using a person sexually is always contrary to virtue, whether it occurs within marriage or without.
Disinterested love wills good for the other as another self, and not as a means to one's self. Now what is willed for the other makes the difference between a genuine love and a disordered love. Willing merely sensible good (pleasure) for the other and surrendering oneself over to her as a means of her sexual pleasure is not to will virtue for the other – and virtue is a greater good than mere pleasure. For I am allowing the other to use me as a means to an end, that is, I am allowing the other to use me as an object of her self-love. And using another human being as a means to an end is always contrary to his status as a person equal in dignity to oneself. Willing good for her that does not involve a violation of self-respect on my part entails willing that her act of intercourse be expressive of a disinterested love. I must will that she love me as an end, and not as a means to an end. Now sexual intercourse is an act of one flesh union, which is marriage. The physical act ought to express one's intention, in this case the intention to be one flesh, otherwise the act bespeaks a lie. If I love the other as another self, I must will a good for her, a good that is in keeping with virtue. Marital communion is more than a mere sensible good. It is an intelligible human good that the two establish through their mutual self-giving. And so the good that is willed in the act of sexual union is precisely the good of marital communion. Sexual union is thus a celebration and expression of marriage. Having sex while withholding the intention to be one body is to engage in an act that lies, an act whose symbolic value is not congruent with the intention of the heart. The act is inevitably one of self-love, which reduces the other to a means of venereal pleasure.
And so non-marital intercourse is unchaste and contrary to reason, and as such cannot lead a person to emotional fulfillment. Joy is an effect of disinterested love. But this joy is very different from the emotional complacency experienced through union with a pleasurable object. Joy that is in the will is more enduring, while satisfaction of desire lasts until hunger is once again aroused, which is never long in coming. Those who indulge in non-marital intercourse will experience this temporary sensible "satisfaction", but not the enduring joy of a disinterested and holy love. A feeling of emptiness succeeds this sort of behavior; for it has failed to deliver what it promised, namely, ecstasy. In fact, the very word ecstasy comes from the Greek word ekstasis, which indicates a standing outside of oneself. A genuine human ecstasy is one rooted in genuine human love, not self-love; for only genuine disinterested love reaches out beyond the self to another person who is loved for his own sake. Self-love does not tend beyond the self, and so is never ecstatic. Furthermore, this ecstatic joy, on account of man's psychosomatic unity, is communicated to the body, thereby increasing the pleasure of the sexual act. And so unchaste sex is never as pleasurable and meaningful as chaste marital intercourse. The search for ever more perverse forms of sexual play is only testimony to the emotional emptiness that indicates the presence of inordinate self-love as the root and motivating principle of one's sexual practices.
Lust also begets an inordinate love of this world, as opposed to a sober love that rebounds towards God who is the author of this world and the world's redeemer. It is the kind of love indicated in the expression "love is blind." For it is a love that fails to mind the world's defects, a love of the world for its power to provide for one's lusts.
Lust also begets despair of a future world, that is, of eternal life. Spiritual joys are distasteful to those immersed in sensuality. Furthermore, there is a hatred for God and a total lack of "fear of God" in those who live for venereal delight. And so we should not be surprised to learn of such despair. This is quite possibly the principal reason for the apparent increase in atheism today. It has been said that at the root of atheism is a revolt of conscience, and this revolt almost always centers around a decision concerning sexual acts.
And as gluttony begets loquaciousness, so too does lust have its own store of linguistic vices, such as obscenity, scurrilousness, wanton words, and foolish thinking. These of course flow from the intellectual vices of rashness, thoughtlessness, and lack of awareness. Of particular note regarding obscene words is their reductionism. Because lust alters the way the other is regarded – for she is seen and evaluated primarily in the light of her capacity to satisfy lust – the scope of one's vision tends to narrow down and focus solely on those aspects of the person that alone are relevant to the lustful appetite. The whole person tends to be reduced to a part. And this is reflected in obscene vocabulary. This way of regarding the human person is culturally widespread and has become somewhat the norm. During televised sporting events, for instance, camera shots taken from angles that highlight the nether parts, while the countenance of the athlete is hidden from view, are rather common.
This habit of looking at others reductionistically directly affects one's thinking and consequent ability to understand the meaning of human sexuality. The meaning of the sexual act cannot be properly understood as an interaction of genitalia. Yet such a way of looking at the sex act is becoming widespread. Some are no longer able to discern any significant difference between anal and vaginal intercourse. Such people fail to see that the unitive good of the sexual act regards a union of persons, not parts.
As we said above, prudence is the mother of the virtues, and it is intemperance that is the "chief corruptive for prudence." The principal species of intemperance is lust, and so it follows that the habit of lust destroys the entire structure of the virtuous life, rendering emotional health impossible.
Intemperance also hinders the development of kindness, generosity, and a gentle spirit, which imply empathy and an awareness of another's suffering and needs. A large part of emotional illness is rooted in anger. Now anger is an essential part of our being, and is therefore basically good. But it is natural that the passion of anger be subject to reason, which is the work of the virtue of gentleness. Now gentleness (meekness) is not about the pleasures of touch, but it is like temperance in that it involves restraint, for gentleness restrains the onslaught of anger. And so Thomas refers to gentleness and clemency as secondary virtues annexed to temperance.
As we pointed out above, love can only be channeled through virtue. Now some people are, at certain moments, difficult to love, in particular adolescent teens and toddlers. Unless we develop the habit of gentleness, our love will remain inconsistent and will reach the beloved only when conditions are favorable to us. Moreover, anger is, on account of its impetuous nature, a real obstacle to a person's clear judgment of the truth. Passion is in me, and so when inflamed tends to render me incapable of transcending myself, which is a necessary condition for understanding the "other" from a point of view other than my own (i.e., from his point of view, or God's point of view, or the point of view of a third party). The virtue of gentleness enables us better able to transcend ourselves during difficult moments that arouse anger in order to more accurately assess the needs of the person who is the principal cause of our anger. We may discover that the best response to such a person is a patient tolerance, or possibly fair punishment, in which case anger becomes a source of energy.
Meekness or gentleness is again a very important part of emotional integration. As St. Thomas writes: "Wherefore meekness above all makes a man self-possessed." Should there exist an inordinate attachment to the pleasures of touch, or to the comforts of the body or to life that contains few inconveniences and oppositions to the will, gentleness will be a difficult virtue to come by. Such a person will find it difficult to "contain himself" or "hold himself together". Indeed, life is full of inconveniences and contradictions, and so there are really only two choices available here: to nurture a spirit of gentleness in order to more readily channel a love that loves the other for his own sake, or choose to make one's ultimate end in life the minimization of life's inconveniences, for example in the pursuit of wealth and an early retirement, so as to free oneself up to live completely in accordance with one's personal desires. The latter is the route most frequently pursued today. But consider that emotional illness is not yet on the decline in our society, but has been on the increase for a number of years (waiting lists to see a psychiatrist are often months long). Emotional well-being cannot be separated from moral integrity, and the perfection of the emotions results from the proper structuring of the four principal parts of the human person via the four cardinal virtues, an intelligible structure determined ultimately by the supernatural virtue of charity, which loves God as the ultimate end, not the self, and which in turn orders the emotions to serve the interests of justice and the common good. That is why the mild Epicureanism that is generally taken for granted today has never succeeded in bringing a stable peace to the lives of its adherents, but only a fragile feeling of peace that is easily destroyed through a change of circumstance.
When perfected by clemency, anger propels us forward and helps us in the execution of reason's command. There is no requirement to suppress anger, but to direct it, as water is directed and channeled in order to generate power. But unresolved anger can generate a choleric, sullen, or ill-tempered character. The choleric person becomes angry too quickly and for a slight cause. Consider the teenager who "flies off the handle" on the basis of what he interpreted as being "looked at the wrong way". This can develop into a more sullen character. Here the cause of anger endures in the memory and often becomes subconscious. This in turn can color almost everything the sullen person does henceforth. This influence is also subconscious and leads one to function daily on those unhealed memories, that is, to be subconsciously motivated to attempt to resolve the anger in almost everything one does. These unhealed memories can, with the help of a sound therapist, become sources of blessing for the person, or they will cripple him and prevent him from achieving the emotional harmony and character structure of a healthy personality.
The ill-tempered person will choose to hang on to his anger and will stubbornly seek to inflict punishment on the perceived cause of that anger. But excessive anger affects one's ability to judge well, and so the ill-tempered person will rarely, and on his own, come to an understanding of the true cause of his displeasure. The remedy of unresolved anger is nothing other than forgiveness, which often requires a great deal of time and, more importantly, the help of another who has the ability to lead the angry person through the necessary stages on the way to the final stage of healing. This is the point at which he can begin to accept the injury and readily forgive the offender, which, more often than not, turns out to be a parent who did not have the strength of character to rear the child properly, protect the child from an abuser, or adequately provide for the child, or discipline the child with moderation.
The principal offspring of anger include habitual contempt of certain others, a kind of "looking down one's nose" at others, as well as an obsessive preoccupation over perceived injuries, what Thomas calls a "swelling of the mind". This swelling results in a living in one's own mind. This of course affects one's judgment or assessment of the situation in which one finds oneself. One can no longer see straight, that is, one is no longer able to take in the larger picture. That is why it is important to take the views of such people with a grain of salt, whether the person is an angry liberal, or an angry conservative, or an angry teacher, etc. And more importantly, one must learn not to place too much trust or confidence in one's own judgments and ways of perceiving things during those times in which the onslaught of anger has been released.
But we must not be led to believe that the perfect possession of humility is necessarily the property of the believer. Even one who accepts his own limitations and regards his deficiencies in the light of faith does so, for most of his life, only very imperfectly. He may still desire his own excellence inordinately. We see this in those who envy, who are displeased at the excellence of others because such excellence turns the attention of others away from them. We see this in the philosopher or theologian who writes so as not to be readily understood by most others, in order to appear exceedingly excellent and in possession of truths out of the reach of everyone except a small few.
The proud have lofty eyes, which when focused on you tend to bear downward, fearlessly and without reverence, "…for fearing and respectful persons are especially wont to lower the eyes, as though not daring to compare themselves with others." And that is why those who lack humility tend to compare themselves to others, and are always on the lookout for others' deficiencies and shortcomings – and are always satisfied when they have discovered them.
Humility will, with regard to one's work, keep one from veering away from the ordinary, for pride desires recognition, and so it moves one to the extraordinary way. We see this in the priest, for example, who alters the liturgy and introduces all sorts of unapproved innovations. Moreover, humility is not in a hurry to speak, in contradistinction to those who are not aware of their own deficiencies. The proud are quick to "enlighten" others whom they never suspect might not at all need to be so informed. The proud tend not to moderate their speech, nor do they restrain their haughty eyes and laughter.
Pride also destroys every virtue; for it finds in every virtue an occasion to flourish – after all, virtue is a mark of excellence. Every virtue is ordained to the service of glorifying the proud man, rather than God. That is why the proud readily believe that their good is from themselves, and not from God. Or, if they are not entirely without faith, they believe their good to be from God, but are prone to believe that these gifts are due to their merit. The proud cannot resist the opportunity to boast, for their desire to be admired by others is beyond the control of virtue, and they tend to observe carefully the failings of others. They tend to despise others and wish to appear the exclusive possessor of what they have. And the believer who inordinately loves his own excellence will fall into singularity, by which he wishes to appear holier than others. In the proud man will also be found license, which is the delight in doing freely whatever one wills. That is why pride begets disobedience and vainglory, by which he covets the outward show of excellence.
Reason may also direct one's movements according to the fittingness of circumstance. Thomas refers to this as methodicalness, which regards that which is becoming to the business at hand.
Modesty also regards the use of play or fun, which is a very important part of a healthy emotional life. We can refer to this virtue as pleasantness, which is also closely connected to the virtue of affability. Preoccupation with the things of the mind can weary the soul. Pleasantness regards the resting of the soul through the application of some pleasure, for example in "words or deeds wherein nothing further is sought than the soul's delight." And so a person applies himself to games or sporting activities, such as chess, cards, hockey, tennis, or golf, or things humorous. Games or humorous play that involve vice of some kind are obviously not part of the virtue of leisure.
The virtues are character traits, and so this virtue of leisure or pleasantness will accordingly become a part of the person's character, making him pleasant, so to speak. Thomas writes: "…a man is said to be pleasant through having a happy turn of mind, whereby he gives his words and deeds a cheerful turn." This virtue, though, is contained under modesty in so far as it restrains a person from immoderate fun. Cheerfulness and affability also come under fortitude and justice in so far as they manage sorrow and relations with others. But the pursuit of fun can become immoderate, and is indeed immoderate in those who make the pleasure of games their principal end in life, or in those who account their life a pastime. When this happens, for instance, when a person pursues fun excessively as in a sport like tennis or golf, they very quickly cease to be pleasant, and often will become greedy, inconsiderate and quick tempered. The moderate use of fun makes one a cheerful and affable person.
The defect of play is a vice found in those who are consistently lacking in mirth. Thomas writes: "…it is against reason for a man to be burdensome to others, by offering no pleasure to others, and by hindering their enjoyment." It is in this way that the virtue of pleasantness is a kind of affability or friendliness, which is a part of justice. The defect of leisure leads to a kind of unfriendliness, another example of how temperance channels justice.
A person can lack moderation in the way he adorns himself either with regard to clothing or with regard to his home. He can lack moderation in two ways. First, in comparison with the social customs. It may not be immoderate for a woman of some African tribe to go around topless, but it is certainly immoderate for a woman living in the United States to proceed topless around the yard. A person may also become inordinately attached to outward apparel and take too much pleasure in them. This is evidence of an excessive preoccupation with the self. This attachment may be rooted in a desire for attention, or it may be rooted in an excessive desire for sensuous pleasure. Humility, which avoids "excessive expenditure and parade", is the remedy against the former. Contentment and simplicity are the virtues that overcome the latter. One who is married is not required to live like a religious in a monastery, but neither is he required to spend thousands on a chandelier or the finest furniture.
Deficiency in attire is also inordinate and can be rooted in a lack of reasonable self-respect, which is not humility. There is a reasonable amount of trouble one ought to be willing to go through in order to adorn oneself so as not to stand out. Such neglect of oneself may very well be a form of attention seeking, rooted in the desire to appear virtuous, simple, and unconcerned about vain things.
McManaman, Douglas. "The Virtue of Temperance." (January 2006).
Reprinted with permission of Douglas McManaman.
Photo: Kwan Choo, ARPS
Douglas McManaman is a high school religion teacher with the York Catholic District School Board in Ontario. He is currently teaching at Father Michael McGivney Catholic Academy in Markham, Ontario and maintains a web site, A Catholic Philosophy and Theology Resource Page, in support of his students. He studied Philosophy at St. Jerome's College in Waterloo, and Theology at the University of Montreal. Mr. McManaman is the past President of the Canadian Chapter of the Fellowship of Catholic Scholars. Douglas McManaman is on the advisory board of the Catholic Education Resource Center.
Copyright © 2006 Douglas McManaman<
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