Collegium Perulae Orientis

"The absolute preponderance of a single political force, the predominance of any over-simplified concept in the organization of the state, the strictly logical application of any single principle in all public law are the essential elements in any type of despotism, whether it be a despotism based upon divine right or a despotism based ostensibly on popular sovereignty; for they enable anyone who is in power to exploit the advantages of a superior position more thoroughly for the benefit of his own interests and passions. When the leaders of the governing class are the exclusive interpreters of the will of God or of the will of the people and exercise sovereignty in the name of those abstractions in societies that are deeply imbued with religious beliefs or with democratic fanaticism, and when no other organized social forces exist apart from those which represent the principle on which sovereignty over the nation is based, then there can be no resistance, no effective control, to restrain a natural tendency in those who stand at the head of the social order to abuse their powers."

Gaetano Mosca, The Ruling Class (Elementi di Scienza Politica), trans. Hannah D. Kahn, ed. Arthur Livingston (New York: McGraw Hill Book Company, 1939), 134.

"Mass labor unions, themselves integrated with the state through New Deal labor legislation, play an important role under oligopolistic conditions, partly by increasing the purchasing power of their members but also by helping to eliminate the competition of smaller firms and by encouraging concentration [...] Mass corporations and unions and their leadership thus share common interests in perpetuating their organizational and operational scale and in carrying out the imperatives of massive scale in the encouragement of concentration, the integration of state and economy, the oligopolistic control of prices and markets, the stimulation of mass demand, and the abandonment of bourgeois ideology and moral codes that restrict and constrain these imperatives. Moreover, the leadership that emerged in mass labor unions in the post-War period itself resembled the managerial elite in the corporations [...] The common interests shared by the managerial elites of mass unions and corporations served to unite them against the dissimilar interests of smaller entrepreneurial firms."

SAMUEL FRANCIS, Leviathan and Its Enemies (Washington Summit Publishers, 2016), 336-337.

𝐄𝐝𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞

by Nathan Kreider

Edmund Burke (1729-1797) was one of the most influential political figures in Anglo-American political thought. He is widely regarded as the father of Anglo-American conservatism (Russell Kirk’s The Conservative Mind begins with Burke) but was also praised as a great liberal (Lord Acton considered Burke one of the three greatest Liberals). Burke has been a key inspiration for many political philosophers since, most notably Sir Roger Scruton.

Although much has been written on Burke, practically nothing has been written on his views on marriage. The most obvious reason for this being that he barely wrote anything regarding marriage. Within Payne’s entire 4-volume Selected Works of Edmund Burke, I have found only one noteworthy commentary on marriage. This comes from a letter to Parliament concerning peace with France, titled as “On the Overtures of Peace.”

Before focusing on this section, it’s worth knowing the surrounding context: Edmund Burke was best known for this Reflections on the Revolution in France, the single most famous criticism of the French Revolution. In both his reflections and this letter, he emphasizes how the revolutionaries struck down the civil order in favor of disorder. He does not mean this in a totalitarian sense, that the revolutionaries were pushing back against the strong arm of the almighty state, but rather that the revolutionaries were tearing apart the natural organic institutions that form civilization. To Burke, society was something that formed more bottom-up, through tradition and voluntary associations. It was the very fabric of society, including its morals, that the revolutionaries were tearing apart. In On the Overtures of Peace, he writes that

In their culture it is a rule always to graft virtues on vices. They think everything unworthy of the name of publick virtue, unless it indicates violence on the private. All their new institutions, (and with them every thing is new,) strike at the root of our social nature.

That last sentence is especially Burkean. The natural organizations of society are rooted in our nature, and develop through tradition. They conform to our social nature. The revolutionary institutions are the opposite. They are all new, rooted in nothing, and rather than complement our nature, they attack it.

In the very next sentence, Burke turns his attention to marriage as an example of one natural institution.

Other Legislators, knowing that marriage is the origin of all relations, and consequently the first element of all duties, have endeavoured, by every art, to make it sacred.

Here Burke places an intensely high value on marriage, one that is reflective of conservatism as well as Christendom, in addition to the broader sentiment at the time. Marriage is the foundation of society, because it is the “origin of all relations.” Everyone begins their life with relation to a mother and a father. From then on, through their family, they develop other relations to their larger community.

As the first element of all duties, it is through the family that everyone (ideally) learns their basic moral obligations. They learn to honor their father and mother, to do their part in the household, to care for their siblings, and from there learn their broader obligations to society. Thus it can be implied that Burke recognizes that marriage is a necessary component to a civilized society, and to the extent that marriage suffers, all of society suffers. Burke then continues:

The Christian Religion, by confining it to the pairs, and by rendering that relation indissoluble, has, by these two things, done more towards the peace, happiness, settlement, and civilization of the world, than by any other part in this whole scheme of Divine Wisdom.

As an Anglican born to a Catholic mother, Burke supports the wider Christian teaching that marriage is confined to two, and that it is indissoluble. This was still the common view even among Anglicans at the time. Burke insists that this ordering of marriage is integral to civilized society. Although it sounds hyperbolic, it is worth confining his statement to a sociological perspective, not a claim that the institution of marriage was overall more important than the Crucifixion and Resurrection. Burke then turns his attention to the revolutionaries:

The direct contrary course has been taken in the Synagogue of Antichrist, I mean in that forge and manufactory of all evil, the sect which predominated in the Constituent Assembly of 1789. Those monsters employed the same, or greater industry, to desecrate and degrade that State, which other Legislators have used to render it holy and honourable. By a strange, uncalled-for declaration, they pronounced, that marriage was no better than a common civil contract.

Burke’s criticism here, that marriage is reduced to a civil contract, is not unique to him. It has been voiced by many great thinkers from his time to the present day, one notable example being Pope Leo XIII in his marriage encyclical Arcanum. When marriage is reduced to a civil contract, it then becomes malleable. For millennia prior, marriage was regarded as something that precedes the state. The state is a guardian of it, but has no right to manipulate it. An act of legislation cannot alter what marriage fundamentally is. By attempting to reduce it to a civil contract, marriage falls entirely under the control of the state, to be manipulated by legislators.

Burke then goes on to decry the promotion of divorce and the ruination of marriage by the revolutionaries before moving onto other topics. Although much of Edmund Burke’s views on marriage could be implied from his worldview as a whole, these few sentences give us concrete assertions: Marriage, properly understood as an indissoluble bond, is integral to civilized society.

Nathan Kreider is a contributor to the Mises Institute, Being Libertarian, the Foundation for Economic Education, the Austrian Economics Center, Crisis Magazine, and CatholicExchange.com.

https://www.collegiumph.org/opinion/edmund-burke-on-marriage

ZALDARRIAGA RESIGNS AS EXTERNAL VICE PRESIDENT

On June 1, 2026, Mr. John Paul Zaldarriaga tendered his resignation as External Vice President of the Collegium Perulae Orientis. In the interests of transparency, the resignation letter has been attached to this post. We thank Mr. Zaldarriaga for his years of dedicated service to the Collegium and wish him well in any future endeavors moving forward.

Happy month of the Sacred Heart.

“The human person, made in the image and likeness of God, can hardly be adequately described by a reductionist reference to his or her sexual orientation. Everyone living on the face of the earth has personal problems and difficulties, but challenges to growth, strengths, talents and gifts as well. Today, the Church provides a badly needed context for the care of the human person when she refuses to consider the person solely as a ‘heterosexual’ or a ‘homosexual’ and insists that every person has a fundamental identity: the creature of God, and by grace, his child and heir to eternal life.”

CARDINAL JOSEPH RATZINGER, Letter to the Bishops of the Catholic Church on the Pastoral Care of Homosexal Persons, October 1, 1986.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐔𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐖𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐀 𝐏𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

by Xelestine Gabriel Payte

One thing must be considered when reflecting upon the lives of the apostles before they ventured forth to “go therefore and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost” (Matthew 28:19).

They did not fully know what awaited them.

Christ had ascended unto Heaven and left the tomb empty. The promise had been spoken. Yet they still did not foresee what would come thereafter.

They did not know how the Holy Spirit would descend upon them.

They did not know that frightened fishermen would become heralds of nations, nor did they know that their words would shake empires, convert hearts, and echo throughout centuries.

But somehow... They waited.

“And while staying with them he charged them not to depart from Jerusalem, but to wait for the promise of the Father” (Acts 1:4).

There is something profoundly beautiful in waiting.

Not a waiting born from laziness or hesitation, but a waiting rooted in obedience and trust. The apostles remained in the Upper Room not because they possessed certainty, but because they possessed faith. Though fearful, confused, and perhaps even anxious, they remained together in prayer with the Blessed Virgin Mary.

“And all these with one accord devoted themselves to prayer” (Acts 1:14).

The world today fears uncertainty. We desire immediate answers, instant direction, and visible signs before taking a single step. Yet Pentecost reminds us that God often prepares souls in silence before sending them into mission.

The apostles waited in uncertainty, but Heaven was already moving.

For nine days they prayed. For nine days they hoped. For nine days they remained faithful without seeing.

And then came the fire.

“And suddenly there came from heaven a sound like a mighty rushing wind… And there appeared unto them parted tongues as of fire, and it sat upon every one of them” (Acts 2:2–3).

The same men who once hid behind locked doors now proclaimed Christ openly before the world.

Such is the power of the Holy Ghost.

St. John Chrysostom once wrote:

“The Spirit came not simply to comfort them, but to transform them into another kind of men.”

Indeed, Pentecost is not merely the descent of divine power — it is the transformation of fearful hearts into courageous witnesses.

The beauty of waiting is that it teaches the soul surrender. In waiting, pride is stripped away. We are reminded that grace cannot be forced, only received. The apostles could not manufacture Pentecost by their own strength. They could only remain faithful until God’s appointed time arrived.

As St. Augustine beautifully said:

“God had one Son on earth without sin, but never one without suffering.”

And perhaps waiting itself is a form of suffering — the quiet ache of not yet knowing, the hidden struggle of trusting while the future remains veiled.

Yet Pentecost teaches us this truth:

God is never absent in the waiting.

The Upper Room may have seemed silent, but Heaven was preparing fire. The apostles may have felt weak, but grace was already approaching. And perhaps many of us today live in our own Upper Rooms — waiting for clarity, healing, purpose, direction, or peace.

We pray.

We hope.

We remain uncertain.

But if Pentecost teaches anything, it is this:

The Holy Ghost still comes to those who remain faithful in waiting.

“Be still before the Lord, and wait patiently for him” (Psalm 37:7).

So the apostles waited.

And in that waiting, the Church was born.

Xelestine Gabriel Payte is a part-time faculty member at the University of Asia and the Pacific’s College of Arts and Sciences.

https://www.collegiumph.org/opinion/the-beauty-and-uncertainty-of-waiting

Statement from the President appointing Eliah Michaela Felix as Director of Communications and Advisor to the Board.

FELIX APPOINTED COMMUNICATIONS DIRECTOR AND ADVISOR TO THE BOARD

Eliah Michaela Felix has been appointed Director of Communications and Advisor to the Board. She will be responsible for the Collegium's public communications, including this page. Let us pray for her as she takes office today.

𝐀𝐫𝐭, 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐆𝐨𝐝: 𝐎𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐫𝐭

by Daniel Tyler Chua

In his Letter to Artists, John Paul II (1999) explores the analogical relationship between man as craftsman and God as Creator. Drawing from the mandate given by God to man to have dominion over himself and the earth (Gen. 1:28), the artist enjoys a certain, though limited, participation in God’s creative action. While this mandate can be applied to mankind generally, the artist has a particular vocation: to disclose themselves by way of imprinting their own self upon an external object. It is in this particular context that John Paul II (1999) speaks of the transcendentals: the artist has a special vocation towards beauty insofar as he is called to pursue beauty for its own sake.

John Paul II (1999), however, argues that the artist’s vocation takes upon a Christological dimension. Through the incarnation of God—Beauty himself—into matter, the worlds of faith and art are brought together. Hence, John Paul II (1999) argues that “if the Son of God had come into the world of visible realities—his humanity building a bridge between the visible and the invisible— then, by analogy, a representation of the mystery could be used, within the logic of signs, as a sensory evocation of the mystery” (n. 7). Illustrating the unfolding of this incarnational understanding of art throughout the history of the Church and the Western world, he argues for the mutual interdependence of art and the Church.

In this essay I shall defend John Paul II’s position: art has an inherently religious significance which finds its greatest fulfilment in Christian culture.

The fact that art often takes upon a religious significance is generally accepted even by most secular thinkers. However, to say that art has an inherently religious significance presupposes that it always and everywhere has some kind of reference towards the Divine. This can be demonstrated by way of Thomistic metaphysics: art is directed to Beauty-as-such, but God is Beauty-as-such, art therefore must be directed to God in some way. This follows from a more general understanding of Being and the transcendentals: every thing which exists has some kind of analogical participation in Being, which in its purest form is God.

Thomistic philosophy would argue that “goodness and beauty are really the same, and differ only in idea” (Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, Part I, Q. 5, A. 1). John Paul II (1999), on the other hand, understood that “beauty is the visible form of the good, just as the good is the metaphysical condition of beauty” (n. 3). If we are to take this metaphysical framework to its logical conclusion, we can see that because God is being (and therefore goodness) itself, and beauty is the visible form of goodness, we can say that God is Beauty itself. And because the artist is called to pursue beauty for its own sake, then it follows that the artist has some connection towards God.

What about the Catholic Church? Christianity is one of the few religions in the world which posit a real union of the human and divine natures in the same Divine person. God really becomes man, and in doing so elevates the visible world. For this reason, the Church has judged it permissible to depict God visually insofar as Jesus Christ—the “image of the invisible God” (Col. 1:15)—is concerned.

The mystery of the Incarnation changed the way people viewed both human dignity and materiality vis-a-vis its Creator. Not only does God descend to man, but man ascends to God. For this reason, the Church became one of history’s most prolific patrons of the arts in its various forms: visual art, sacred music, and even literature. John Paul II (1999) acknowledges that the Church is not strictly necessary for there to be good art as such; nevertheless, art is perfected in the supernatural order by the Church, insofar as a renewed awareness of the spiritual significance of matter has been brought forth by the Catholic faith.

Some may object that not all art is ordered towards God insofar as there is evil art. A quick glance at modern art unveils certain perversions: sexual degeneracy, blasphemy, and the inversion of the human order. How can something so offensive to the Divine maintain a certain relation with Him? Nevertheless, even bad art—insofar as it attempts to approximate beauty—has a certain intentionality towards the Divine, although marred with various errors. Saint Thomas understood that an evil thing is not evil insofar as it has being, but insofar as it has a certain privation of a due good (Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, Part I, Q. 5, A. 3). For this reason even evil art, insofar as it possesses some level of being, has a real relation to the Divine and therefore has an inherently religious significance.

It is also true that many atheistic countries produce works of art—and good ones at that—without having any religious affiliation. However, man’s vocation towards transcendence is so ingrained into his nature that he cannot avoid searching for the Transcendent, i.e., God. The lack of formal religious affiliation does not take away from what John Paul II (1999) called the “‘spirituality’ of artistic service” (n. 4), although it certainly impoverishes its expression. Even a professed materialist cannot but be taken away by the proportional transcendence of a beautiful sculpture or a harmonious sequence.

Nevertheless, John Paul II’s letter to artists is by no means a comprehensive treatise. It does not delve into popular artistic culture (or even meme culture) as it does into the fine arts. These lower art forms certainly have some intentionality towards the Transcendent. But does Sabrina Carpenter’s “Espresso” have the same spiritual value as Bach’s “Arioso”? Can there be a normative evaluation of artistic beauty beyond mere sensory response? These questions remain crucial in a century where the “art industry,” as they call it, seems to have betrayed the artist’s original vocation for “the search for empty glory or the craving for cheap popularity, and [. . .] by the calculation of some possible profit” (John Paul II, 1999, n. 4).

𝗥𝗲𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲𝘀

Aquinas, T. (1920). Summa Theologiae (Fathers of the English Dominican Province, Trans.). Benziger Brothers.

John Paul II. (1999). Letter to artists. Libreria Editrice Vaticana.

https://www.collegiumph.org/opinion/art-beauty-and-god

𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐱 𝐄𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲

by Daniel Tyler Chua

In the fifth installment of our 2026 working paper series, Daniel Tyler Chua examines the philosophical roots of comprehensive sexuality education (CSE) as expressed in the recently-replaced Senate Bill 1979 in light of the educational function of parents vis-a-vis civil society as expressed both in Philippine law and the social doctrine of the Catholic Church. He argues that the universal implementation of a mandatory, standardized CSE curriculum undermines the principle of subsidiarity and violates the natural educative function of parents as well as the rights corresponding thereto. He then suggests an alternative policy which allows for the primacy of parental consent and the limited intervention of the State on a case-to-case basis in accordance with the rights and wishes of parents in accordance with their conscience.

Read the paper free of charge athttps://static1.squarespace.com/static/686939e32105425a3dfb8074/t/6a0baec55ee3881a8c407bf9/1779150535844/CHUA_Mandatory+Comprehensive+Sex+Education+Undermines+the+Family.pdf