Valentine’s Day in America is an occasion that simultaneously disturbs the stomach and befuddles the mind. How the legend of a third century Roman priest who was martyred for performing secret marriages has devolved into this nauseating spectacle of commercialized Cupids and confections has always been a source of puzzlement for me. If anything, February 14 is an annual opportunity to reflect upon modern man’s compelling ability to take something from antiquity and bastardize it beyond recognition.
We need not stray from the theme of the week to find an additional example of this phenomenon. Platonic love is another concept whose true meaning has been lost over the course of a 2,000 year old game of telephone. One only needs to view how “platonic” is defined on UrbanDictionary.com to observe our era’s poorly conceived understanding of the term. Whatever Plato’s original conception of love, the phrase is now often used pejoratively. It has become synonymous with being “just friends,” carrying with it the connotations of something unfulfilled and undesired.
This is an unfortunate development, not merely because it is a modern misconception posing as classical wisdom, but also because it obscures and dilutes the actual meaning of authentic platonic love, a concept that, though limited, is incredibly rich and profound when properly understood.
Articulated in Socrates’ speech in the SYMPOSIUM, Plato’s theory of eros does not present the ideal expression of love as something asexual, utterly devoid of desire or attraction. But while passion for the beloved is certainly present, so is chaste restraint. Plato argues this is a necessary component of true love, which he claims must be oriented towards immortal, spiritual ends rather than mortal, physical ones. In encountering the presence of good and beauty in the beloved, unencumbered by physical preoccupations, one’s thoughts are elevated to good and beauty as abstract forms, and finally to their ultimate source. In this sense, amor platonicus is a means to the greatest end: contemplation and love of the divine.
Platonic love, therefore, does not call for the abandonment of passion and desire, but rather demands that they be purified of their self-centered and sensual aspects, suppressing the appetites of the body for the enrichment of the soul. It should come as no surprise that this conception of love, one that encourages chastity and a focus on non-physical intimacy, would be abused by a time that considers sexual pleasure to be the paramount feature of a loving relationship.
Of course, Plato’s concept of love is not beyond reproach, and is certainly flawed from a Catholic perspective. For starters, the theory was derived and intended to be applied exclusively within the context of Greek pederastic relationships. The type of love displayed between a man and a woman was considered base and purely physical, incapable of leading to the same type of spiritual enrichment one could achieve in a relationship with a young man. And Plato’s consistent rejection of the goodness of the physical body, as well as his dismissal of the noble and legitimate role of procreation in heterosexual relationships must be disavowed as fundamentally at odds with Church teaching.
Nonetheless, just as Aristotle’s system of virtues, though imperfect, was rectified through the lens of the New Testament and incorporated into Christianity, many of the elements of Plato’s theory of love can similarly be adapted.
Plato considered ideal love, at its core, as a means of drawing one closer to the divine. While we must be cautious of treating others merely as tools towards this end, the relationships we partake in and the people we choose to be intimate with should ultimately lead us closer to God.
Instead of utility or pleasure, this aim should be the principle on which we base our close friendships. We should strive to be in the company of those who manifest Christ’s love in their words and deeds. Although there is no particular mold a friendship consistent with platonic love must fit into, I suggest general features include an inclination to confront doubts and to deepen one’s understanding of God, adherence to a mutual sense of Christian accountability, and the shared desire to grow in Catholic faith and practice. This is the type of spiritual communion the catechism attributes to good friendships.
While it is undoubtedly true that anyone can serve as a catalyst for reflecting upon spiritual matters, it is also true that some bonds have a tendency to divert our attention from God and what is good. Relationships that are defined by their ability to draw our hearts and minds closer to God, whether through conversation, example, or sheer radiation, are exceedingly rare, and should be cherished and sought after.
In this same sense, and certainly contrary to popular belief, romantic relationships should have a strongly pronounced “platonic” element to them. In fact, for those called to the vocation of marriage, the godliness a potential spouse should be a chief consideration. This is not to diminish the relevance of physical attraction or personal compatibility, both positive features in any intimate relationship. These qualities, however, are somewhat secondary. A relationship could be characterized by mutual desirability and strong chemistry, but without a deep-seated desire to grow closer to God together, something vital is missing. Indeed, it is only when a relationship is fully centered on God through the sacrament of matrimony, a union between man, woman, and the divine, that love is able to become something physical AND spiritual, capable of transcending the limitations of both materialism and Platonism.
Jonathan Liedl is a 2011 graduate of Notre Dame. He would like to invite you to the Greater Lakes Area Performing Art’s production of “Arsenic and Old Lace” this March. He’ll buy you a free ticket if you can guess who he’s playing. Submissions accepted at jonathanliedl@gmail.com.
