The Virtues

Remembering Stuart Levine in Charlevoix

Stuart Levine, about 2010, heading out to fish

* I first published a version of this piece in 2020, and I would like to share once again what this friendship meant to me.

For me, getting to know Stuart began with seeing a boat, an old boat. From when I first visited the northern Michigan harbor town of Charlevoix in about 2005, I noticed and was attentive to a classic fishing boat. It was a lapstrake wooden-hulled motor boat from the late 1950’s, painted in a beautiful dark forest green. Yet, I was also attentive to the easy skill and confident style of the boat’s captain, an older man whose approach to open water I admired and wished to emulate. During my increasingly frequent summer visits to Charlevoix, I took note of this boat and its persistent captain, who obviously knew what he was doing when going in and out every day to fish on Lake Michigan.

After about seven or eight years of seeing him and his boat each summer, and having taken photographs of them during many of those years, I finally met Stuart. One morning, early in the summer of 2013, I saw that venerable boat in my marina. The next afternoon I saw it again, while her captain was tying her up, having come in from another fishing trip. Plucking up my courage, I walked over and introduced myself. I told him of my admiration for his boat and for what I had inferred from my limited observation about his daily practice. As it turned out, both Stuart and I loved old boats. And, serendipitously, Stuart and I hit it off. We were weekly correspondents, and fellow summer boaters from then on.

As time has shown me, I had encountered and begun to be acquainted with a person of remarkable ability, sensitivity, and enhanced intuition. From first knowing him, Stuart seemed to look beyond the apparent limitations of the present moment, attend to what might be hoped for, and reflect on how the future could really be different. As I came to see, Stuart’s approach to life was nothing like the proverbial person who ‘sees things through rose-colored lenses.’ Stuart’s optimism was grounded in a belief that a different and more positive future results from actually choosing to live in a different way now, not just from believing or hoping differently.

A great example of this aspect of his character took place one summer. Standing with him on the Charlevoix dock while he was stowing his fishing gear after an outing, I asked about all the fishing tackle and gear he left on the boat, openly visible to anyone who might come by. Stuart told me about a valuable fishing rod that he had once left on the boat in a similar way. Upon discovering the rod’s disappearance the next day, he wrote a letter to the editor of the local newspaper, describing the theft but saying that he would not change his usual trusting practice. He wanted to spend his summers in a community where people modeled trust, rather than self-protective fear.

I am reminded of an episode in a video by the former National Geographic photographer, Dewitt Jones (Celebrate What’s Right With the World). On assignment, Jones visits a living national treasure of the UK, a woman who was an acclaimed weaver up in the northern Hebrides Islands. Jones asks her, what do you think about when you weave? She responds by first saying, “I wonder if I will run out of thread!” Jones admits to being surprised by this. But then, she says, “When I weave, I weave…”

Stuart lit up when I told him this story, and he then said, “When I fish, I fish.” He told me that his delight was in the process, more than in the results. His comment then struck me, as it still does, as absolutely authentic to him. Even though this was a man whom the Michigan DNR highly regarded for having documented every lake trout he had caught and released for decades!

At a marina cookout in 2019, Stuart and I talked about the evolving challenge of evaluating college and graduate students in this current era. With several other boaters attentive to his comments, Stuart talked about his commitment to trusting his students. As always, he spoke positively about how placing trust in others encourages them to live into our imputed and projected hope for them. He often reflected on this principle with me, hoping to commend it. After all, it is founded (among other places) in Aristotle and in the Hebrew Scriptures. For what we practice, and live into, shapes who we are becoming. Stuart exemplified this insight.

And yet, at that cookout, as a less-wise and less-experienced former academic, I responded by describing my disappointing prior service on a national examination board. As he invariably would in such conversations, Stuart challenged my apparently less-than-positive view of such processes. He did this in a way that was shaped by his long life experience of having served as a reflective scholar. By his comments in conversations like this, he would disclose how he was both intellectually curious as well as spiritually sensitive. In this way, he showed how he was often a mentor not only for young intellects but also for older souls.

Stuart reminded me of some my favorite teachers. He did this by how he modeled a particular virtue. It was his disposition to value good questions over what often seem to be important answers. For me, Stuart was an excellent example of one who always encourages others to wonder, and then ask, “But, what is the question?” For when we come to appreciate the horizon of a beautiful question, we are then more open to discovering meaningful answers to which it may give rise. Stuart displayed an abiding curiosity about finding good questions. And this led him to discerning an ever-expanding body of insightful answers.

In one other important respect I would like to offer a tribute to Stuart. From time to time he would share with me words of respectful remembrance he had shaped in his effort to honor former colleagues, friends and students. His approach to this sometimes difficult task was compelling. For Stuart embodied a desire to recognize and express appreciation for the gifts, strengths and achievements of others, as a kind of spiritual practice in itself.

May Bard College and other teaching institutions always be blessed to have persons like Stuart Levine among their faculty and in their administrative staffs. And may we all be blessed to have a friend like him.

 

I first offered this tribute in memory of Professor Dr. Stuart Levine six years ago, who died on May 1, 2020. He was formerly a Dean and Professor of Psychology for many years at Bard College, Annandale on the Hudson, New York. Stuart’s cultural and spiritual roots were within Judaism, and Bard College’s early history was associated with The Episcopal Church, within which I was ordained as a deacon and priest.

The Virtues and Life in the Spirit of Pentecost
Lawrence Alma-Tadema (1836-1912), The Women of Amphissa, depicting female followers of Dionysus met by women of the city who have been more consistent in their practice of virtue

Watching video productions set in pre-twentieth century times, such as the 1995 Pride and Prejudice and the more recent series Victoria, viewers will notice how the word ‘virtue’ is often used narrowly to refer to something women are obliged to protect. This collapse of the wider meaning of the term, and its more specific association with sexual propriety, diminishes a concept which has very wide significance, especially in the history of moral theology or in Christian ethics.

The ancients and their successors teach us that virtue is a strength or capacity that we need to exercise, and which gains stature through our practice as a shaping dimension of a person’s character. And our tradition teaches us that character is a disposition to act in particular ways. Acts shape character, and character is displayed in acts.

Building on what we can discern about the narrowing of the concept of virtue in the Victorian period, we can be happy that the twentieth century became an era in which the broader meaning of virtue was gradually rediscovered in teaching and in writing, both in Catholic moral theology and in Protestant ethics. The writings of the Roman Catholic Peter Kreeft and the Protestant Stanley Hauerwas provide examples of the contemporary recovery of the importance of virtue for how to think about how to live.

In view of this recovery, it is helpful to think about two virtues in particular, sobriety and chastity. In popular thinking and often in conversation, sobriety for many has come to be equated with complete abstinence from alcohol, and chastity is usually understood to mean refraining from sexual relations. This specific diminishment of our understanding of sobriety and of chastity has had an unfortunate consequence – we think of sobriety as of principal concern for those who have had difficulty in not over-indulging in drinking, and chastity as a way of avoiding sexual activity. However, as virtues with a long history of reflection behind them, we will do well to recover the fuller significance of these two terms.

Titian (1488-1576), The Bacchanal of the Andrians, depicting the mythical Island of Andros where a stream flowed with wine

As a virtue, sobriety is best seen as the practice of respecting our bodily integrity and emotional equilibrium in our relationships with others, in both social circumstances and when alone. The appropriate and temperate consumption of alcohol, along with a general indifference rather than a preoccupation with its presence, in our homes or in festive gatherings with others, are features of the practice of the virtue of sobriety.

In a similar way, chastity is also best seen as involving the practice of respecting our bodily integrity and honor in our relationships with others, especially with regard to marriage. In traditional Christian thinking, chastity specifically refers to a respect for the marriage covenant, and more broadly to fidelity in committed relationships, as we seek to practice temperance regarding our sensual inclinations.

It may surprise many in this era to read that all people are called to practice the virtues of sobriety and chastity, as well as other often named virtues. Not all are called or feel the need to abstain from alcohol and/or from sexual relations. Those who do find it difficult to consume alcohol or engage in sexual activity within what we consider to be appropriate and healthy bounds then sometimes choose never to drink and to practice celibacy. We should therefore be cautious about equating sobriety with the more specific practice of abstinence from drinking, and chastity from being equated with celibacy.

For the delight we can find in various alcoholic drinks, and the mysterious wonder of human sexuality, are gifts of Creation. They are to be enjoyed while practicing the virtue of prudence along with those of sobriety and chastity. And our lives are the better for practicing virtue as we prepare for passing through the veil into the fullness of blessedness that awaits us.

Our common focus upon sobriety and chastity may reflect a pervasive aspect of life in society after the so-called ‘sexual revolution,’ or in what many call ‘post-Christian’ times. The unbounded consumption of alcohol and engagement in indiscriminate sexual relations seem to be an ever-present aspect of social life in North America and apparently in Western Europe, if not also across the world.

Classical Christian thought has identified four ‘natural’ virtues, prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude, which are seen as natural capacities or strengths that can be developed through practice as a result of being born as a human being. Three additional virtues, seen as gifts of the Holy Spirit rather than as natural endowments of our common human nature, are then commended, both by Scripture and the broader Christian tradition. These are the more familiar virtues of Faith, Hope, and Charity (or agapic or other-oriented love). The identification of these seven virtues has not precluded the identification of further virtues – such as sobriety and chastity – which in one way or another manifest aspects of the seven formally named in the history of Christian ethics.

Our practice of any or all of the virtues, including sobriety and chastity, reflects a fundamentally positive choice to honor the integrity of our human embodiment and the communities in which we live, so that we might grow toward flourishing in fulfillment of our created and redeemed potential.

I write the above aware of how the virtue of temperance was in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries narrowed in social communication to become a term referring to total abstinence from alcohol and even its legal prohibition. One familiar example was the 1864 English naming of the Temperance River, the only stream that flows into the North Shore of Lake Superior without having a ‘bar’ (or sandbar) at its mouth. Though a common example, it reinforces why we should want to recover the fuller significance of the Virtues in our ethical and spiritual thinking.

Further note: Prudence is the virtue of practical reasoning