Whether you are reading about faith, work, and economics for the first time or happen to be an expert on it, you may not be aware of the widespread enthusiasm for these ideas from diverse parts of society.

That is why the Institute for Faith, Work & Economics is excited to announce that we have released, together with The Washington Times, a special report entitled, “Faith at Work: Economic Flourishing, Freedom to Create and Innovate.” 

One of the distinctly modern blessings for the young Catholic intellectual is having one’s moral imagination formed by what Russell Hittinger once called the papal “paper war.”  From the 1864 Syllabus of Errors onward, our popes have assumed an ever more assertive and “counter-cultural” role in their teaching office, especially as regards social doctrine.  This gives to the young Catholic intellectual that unusual thrill of uniting revolution with authority; as he reads through recent papal encyclicals, he may have the sense of simultaneously rebelling against the conventions of the hour while standing on the side of tradition and permanent truth.

Is the Pope Catholic?” is a longstanding response to those who show a stranglehold on the obvious. Chicago Cardinal Blase Cupich recently gave it a new twist when he said that Pope Francis’ critics “don’t like him because he’s a Latino.” Cupich didn’t quote anybody, and he avoided the more obvious reasons Pope Francis’ critics don’t like him, such as the sexual abuse scandal.

As this Catholic annus horribilis continues to unfold, perhaps some good news is in order; first, a little background.            

In late 1991, Italy’s Rocco Buttiglione and America’s Michael Novak had an idea: create a summer seminar in which young Catholic adults with leadership potential could immerse themselves in the social doctrine of the Church, and especially the social magisterium of Pope John Paul II. Rocco and Michael recruited Father Richard John Neuhaus, the Polish Dominican Maciej Zieba, and me to the faculty team, and in July 1992 we went to Liechtenstein (where Rocco then taught) for several intensive weeks of intellectual work with some 40 graduate students from Europe and North America.

In 1901, Jacques Maritain and Raissa Oumansoff made a suicide pact.

Both were students at the Sorbonne, living in a world that was a “spiritual desert,” in the words of the late Michael Novak (Crisis, March 24, 2016).

Novak explained:

“In a horrifying pact, they swore together to give themselves one more year to find some meaning in life. If that search failed, they promised to commit suicide together. The Maritains seem to have argued themselves into this decision much as Albert Camus was later to argue in The Myth of Sisyphus. If human life is absurd, then the only way to give it meaning is to give at least one act in it one’s own meaning. One could at least choose the time and the mode by which to exit from it. Suicide would not make life any more meaningless than it already was. But it could put at least one moment of purpose into it.”

Over the last 30 years, we have witnessed the most significant movement out of poverty in human history. If this trend continues, we will see extreme poverty almost completely eradicated in the 21st century, according to a 2008 report from the World Bank. This historic economic movement was not the result of government programs, the United Nations’ national debt forgiveness, or even Christian charity. It was brought about by the spread of economic freedom and capitalism.

The Roman Catholic Church, a “family of families,” according to Pope Francis, has since the beginning of Christianity proposed to the world a model for a healthy human society. These suggestions to the world at large on what makes for a good and flourishing society are based on biblical principles and derived from Caritas, or charity (Matthew 22:36-40). This is the most important point about Catholic social doctrine. Without it being rooted in the scriptures and in biblical faith, it collapses to sociological concepts.

Nearly a decade ago I sat, together with Catholic philosopher Michael Novak, in the office of the Librarian of Congress, James Billington. Novak had brought us together—he was a longtime friend of Billington—and I was there to pitch an idea. I wanted the Library of Congress to host an exhibit of letters to Radio Azadi, the local branch in Afghanistan of the taxpayer-funded company I led at the time, the modernized Cold War media group called Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty (RFE/RL). Billington—joined by a couple of his division experts—was skeptical, to put it mildly. A station’s fan mail in the coveted space of the Library of Congress? Was I mad?

On Saturday will be the year since the death of the American Catholic philosopher of Slovak origin, Michael Novak.

The memorial prayer cards given at his funeral had an unusual design: alongside the silhouette of the crucifix, they were dominated by the archery drawing, which focuses on the shot with the taut.

The author of the drawing is Karen Laub Novak, the artist and Michael's beloved wife. Michael liked to explain that the inspiration of this portrayal stems from Aristotle's Nikomach's ethics and is related to the achievement of practical wisdom. This can be gained by a long experience associated with a purposeful intellectual effort.