Throughout the Secunda Secundae, St. Thomas
pauses to consider the different parts of each virtue.
For modern ears, mention of parts makes us think of pieces or material components.
For the parts of a car, we might think of the chassis, engine, axles, wheels, transmission,
et cetera, but this is just one sense of part, what St. Thomas calls integral parts.
We've seen a rough sketch of integral parts in the video on prudence.
There, we also had a first look at subjective parts, which are like species of the virtue,
but in addition to these two senses of part, St. Thomas uses the term in a third way, for
what he calls potential parts and here, we have a promising avenue of inquiry.
St. Thomas explains that the potential parts
of a virtue are the virtues connected with, or subordinated to a principle virtue.
The potential parts are directed to certain secondary acts or matters, and they lack the
whole power of the principal virtue.
To concretize the point, he explains that the nutritive and sensitive powers are potential
parts of the human soul.
The nutritive and sensitive powers, think here of self-nutrition or sense appetite,
contribute to the flourishing of the human person, but they do so as connected with and
subordinated to intellect and will.
In order to understand what a human person is in the fullest sense, we need to speak
of these highest powers, which both shape and orient the lower parts.
So, the nutritive and sensitive powers of the soul are potential parts of the soul, in that
they are directed to certain secondary acts or matters, but lack the whole power of the
soul itself.
Recall that justice is the virtue, whereby
one gives to another his due, by a constant and perpetual will.
Thus, the potential parts of justice are going to be those virtues which share somehow in
this dynamic, but lacking its whole power.
In the ordinary course, justice works to establish a certain definite equality between persons
alike in dignity, but as we have discovered, such an arrangement is sometimes impossible.
At times, we can incur debts that simply cannot be repaid, often to persons of greater dignity.
St. Thomas lists three virtues that perfect relationships of this sort.
We can call them virtues of veneration.
They are religion, piety, and observance.
Let's take them in turn.
Religion renders God his due.
It resembles the movement of justice, but it cannot affect a strict equality.
What is more, we owe our whole life to God as Creator and end, and that's a debt from
which we cannot be absolved.
Mindful of this, religion strives to offer due reverence and honor to God, by rendering
interior and exterior acts of worship, that submit the individual God's provident order.
The giving of one's heart, we call devotion.
The giving of one's mind, we call prayer.
The different exterior acts of oblation, sacrifice,
oaths, vows, tithes, et cetera, all redound to an intensification of the interior acts,
as they work to kindle a prompter self-offering.
The acts themselves do not change God, but rather, affect the transformation of the worshiping
person.
Piety renders parents and country their due.
It is true to say that our parents and our country have, in a sense, given us everything.
Before we ever become aware of ourselves or are capable of choosing, we receive an abundance
of riches.
Without consultation, we are blessed with life, family, homeland, polity, faith, grace,
love, and meaning.
The debts we incur in this regard, simply cannot be adequately repaid, and so while
we may disagree with our parents or our country on matters of discipline or domestic policy,
we cannot opt out from the love and gratitude we owe them.
Observance, what we might call respect, renders
our superiors their due.
It's a fact of life that some of the relationships you have presume inequality.
Regardless of how collegial the workplace, your boss is your boss.
Regardless of how fraternal your religious community, your superior is your superior.
And so, to those placed over us in different contexts, we owe a kind of honor, respect
and obedience.
Now, in addition to what we've called the
virtues of veneration, there are also what we might call virtues of civility.
These virtues apply when considerations of strict justice are less well-established.
Here, we can think of exchanges that don't pertain immediately to general justice, distributive
justice, or commutative justice.
Rather, a more fluid, interpersonal situation requires a just social dexterity.
The virtues that fall within this category
include gratitude, vindication, truth, affability, and liberality.
We saw with the virtues of veneration that one cannot always establish a just equality
between persons.
Here, we find that it can be hard to pin down exactly what needs to be repaid.
Without an obvious legal claim, the sense of debt is different.
In gratitude, one owes thanks to his benefactor.
This is the virtue that parents are at pains to develop in their children, and we each
must remember when writing thank you notes for birthday gifts.
Gratitude guides and bolsters our spontaneous desire to express our appreciation, and it
saves us, lest we give way to grumbling or become entitled.
In vindication, one owes retribution for a
harm inflicted on oneself or on a friend.
To be virtuous does not mean to be a doormat, or to permit oneself to be victimized.
Rather, an unjust harm merits redress, and healthy anger is marshaled for precisely this end.
While it may be less conflictual or awkward simply to sweep the offense under the rug
or make it out to be nothing, one does harm to oneself, the perpetrator, and the civil
order, by failing to confront the wrong in adequate fashion.
And so, vindication sees to the restoration of good order.
In truth, one owes an adequate reflection
of his mind to his peers.
Our words are intended to reflect our thoughts, and we owe that to one another, for the preservation
of a just social order, and in conformity to Christ, who is the truly spoken Word of
the Father.
This doesn't mean that we need to overshare in immodest fashion.
Sometimes, it's sufficient just to say you're doing fine, and move on.
Nor does it mean that one should project a false image, making himself out to be better
composed or competent than he in fact is.
Rather, it means being honest and straightforward, in such a way as to foster good and healthy
relationships.
By affability, we denote the friendliness
that we owe to others.
Life can be difficult and sad, but it needn't be overly so.
In addition to the close friendships that we cultivate, it is also virtuous to foster
friendly acquaintances, and a generally friendly disposition towards those whom we meet.
The difference between having a charming bank teller and a cranky one, can change the morning.
The difference between having an engaging conversation versus a one-sided soliloquy,
goes a long way to making the break room enjoyable.
Friendliness works to secure a healthy and happy social order, free from flattery and
quarreling.
Finally, liberality makes one to use well
the money that lies at his disposal.
The liberal man knows that grain laid up forever in a barn, rots.
And so, he uses it for the end for which it was given.
Neither avaricious nor prodigal, the liberal man uses his goods for both himself and others,
in just proportion, and with a generous spirit.
He is open-handed, unbegrudging, and counts not the cost.
Might he be taken advantage of?
Perhaps, but he prefers that to becoming suspicious or calculating.
With these virtues, we see how justice is
present in practically every dimension of social order.
By extending the reign of justice into different aspects of human life, the potential parts
of justice bring about an order, in which genuine respect and equitable exchange obtain
among dignified persons, each free to be as he ought to be, and delighted in so being.
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