Papal Infallibility and Timo Soini

Timo Soini, Finland's only Catholic parliament member (the rest are Lutherans or atheists), has given some invigorating interviews in the Finnish media during the last few years. He is open about his Christian faith, and is a refreshing solitary voice in this moral fiberless “land of one truth”. The secular media finds him interesting because he is intelligent, a patriot, and somewhat of a populist (populists tend to offer wonderful material).

Otherwise exceptionally orthodox in his views, at least as far as I understand the Catholic teaching, he said something in the interview in the latest Nyt-liite of Helsingin Sanomat that caught my eye. In addition to mentioning going to confession (only*) once a year, he called the doctrine of papal infallibility “a legend”. By legend I take it he meant something to not take too seriously.

Now, I may not know much about that doctrine, but I do know that most people know nothing. The most common misrepresentation of it takes the form “the Pope's supposedly always right”. Most objections to the doctrine are answered here and in Finnish here. After the doctine has been (over the years) successfully clarified to me, I've lost most my prejudices. The remaining problems are quite subtle and hard to formulate, I will not attempt an elaboration here.

Back to Timo Soini. Being neither a professing Catholic nor a media figure makes it difficult for me to foresee whether anyone will notice his obvious deviation from the official Catholic teaching. Come what may, I hope he succeeds in inspiring a few other Christians to “come out of their religious closet”. I almost voted for the man during the last elections, but thought his social beliefs were not global (or catholic) enough.

* I guess I shouldn't say only. I know two types of Catholics: the first group, that encompasses probably most parishioners, hasn't seen a confessional since their first communion, and the second group, a small number I presume, confess on a weekly or monthly basis and would probably be labeled “fundamentalists” by the first group.

Canadian Maritime

My Canadian Aunt, Auntie Lynn, returned home to British Columbia earlier this week. We miss her already. Over the past few years she's managed to visit us quite a few times, but next on the agenda is - so I've been told - my mother's trip to Canada in 2010 or 2011. (Auntie Lynn might accumulate enough bonus points to visit us in Finland one more time before that though.) My mom and her plan to visit the Maritime Provinces of eastern Canada: Nova Scotia, New Bruinswick, Prince Edward Island, and Newfoundland too, and after that take the famous transcontinental train Canada 1 back to Vancouver.


What does this have to do with the photo above? Nothing, really. Well, Auntie Lynn did take it on her holiday in Helsinki this summer. I think my mother is helping my little nephew Joshua with his lunch or something. I know I'm repeating myself - like a broken monotonous record - but Joshua is so adorable. A little human person.

Human Language

I'm sure I'm not the only person who has these kinds of moments. Every now and then, when you're thinking about a familiar word, any word, thinking about what it means, how it's spelled, what it sounds like when it's said aloud, maybe repeating it a few times - an odd thing may happen. Suddenly, you see it in a new light. This word, used thousands and thousands of times in the past, now seems, looks, and sounds ridiculous. You think to yourself: “Ha, what a dumb word!” (Not the thing the word symbolises, but the words itself.)

Two minutes later, it doesn't seem so stupid anymore, it's returned to its normal familiar state.


I wonder whether on these rare occasions we actually feel the truth which we generally know to be true: that words are merely symbols we quite arbitrarily choose for realities?

The words vary from language to langauge and evolve within each language over time, but the reality remains the same. The thing itself is real, the word is not. But through endless repetition the word and the reality it symbolises have fused into one so that speaking the word immediately brings forth the picture of the reality. But on rare occasions they're detached for a brief moment. And during those moments when the link between the thing and the symbol is not apparent, we realise how inadequate and clumsy the symbol is in comparison to the thing itself.

Perhaps someone can draw even more fundamental conclusions. I don't think trivial phenomena like these are trivial at all: very often they're an echo of an intriguing secret. That makes them so fascinating and worth reflecting on.

A Chocolate-y Laugh

Many people say the loveliest sound in the world is a baby's laugh and the most disturbing is a baby's cry. I am one of these people, I guess. Out of all the baby laugh in history, my nephew Joshua's is probably the cutest. It is so cute - he is so adorable - that you want to kiss him to death. By the way, it's a peculiar thing that parents, at the height of their affection to their children, feel like - and often say it out loud, without thinking too much of it - that they want to eat them. "Oh, I'm going to eat you!" There's a theological theory behind this, but I'm not going into it now. Below Joshua is eating chocolate and enjoying a laugh at the same time.

Pappa and Benjy

When my brother Danny and his wife Sirkku flew to Finland for their summer holiday, the only place that could accommodate them was Sirkku's parents'. Well, it turned out to be loaded with benefits. According to reports, when baby Daniella and/or Benjy wake up early in he morning, all Danny and Sirkku need to do is open their bedroom door. Awaiting behind the door are two pairs of outstretched grandparent arms. Pappa and Mummi have been up since seven waiting for this moment. Danny and Sirkku hand over the woken baby or two and go back to sleep. For parents of small children, this must truly be a superb perk!


Meanwhile, Daniella's and Benjy's uncle - or "Big Daddy", as it's in Swahili - is at home. This summer he refused to give up his apartment to the African relatives. "I want to enjoy the beach nearby," he said, "for this is my last summer in this apartment." Coincidentally the summer's been the worst for years: we're well into July already, and I haven't been on the beach once. I should have just given up my apartment and got points for being a "good uncle".

Fergusons and Restlakes

As my mother is spending quality time with her sister Lynn (that's Auntie Lynn to me) from Canada, my father took the kids to the cabin at Ylöjärvi, central Finland, for most of July. The address is Lepojärventie something and it's beside the lake Lepojärvi... You guessed it: our family has its roots thereabouts. Lepojärvi means Rest-lake. And it sure is a place for rest, even though I'm quite confident my father will find "something to do" for the kids.


There are many toys at the cabin. In the photo above my father is playing with his most favourite one. This 1950's gray Ferguson tractor is something he has always coveted. He bought it for himself for his 50th birthday when we was 46.

Jan Evicted

Jan has been evicted. He had to move out of his room. Auntie Lynn took over. Well, Jan got the good end of the deal. Auntie Lynn brought a lot of very cool gifts from Canada to compensate for Jan's loss. In addition, Jan's new room is the biggest in the house - the attic, that is. No-one bothers the boys upstairs: they play games during the day, venture downstairs only to exchange empty soda bottles for new ones and to fill the bowls of chips, and sleep in late.

Master of Theology

I finally graduated. Last Saturday my parents threw a graduation party for me in their back yard. It was fun. We had wine, sangria, cheese, fruit and berries for “lunch”, and coffee and cheese-cake for dessert. I was very happy that so many brought their children along. For instance, all three of my godchildren (Lily, Oskar, Eddie) were there. The big trampoline and the animals (ducks, chicken, bunnies, cats) were the children's favourite. Many women tried out the trampoline too (“for the kids' sake”, they said). In the evening we had a nice fire, grilled some sausages, and took a sauna. And tried shooting some rats. They tend to follow domestic yard animals. I was just shaking Antti Gorski's hand and welcoming him to the party when another guest (also in a three-piece suit) asked me in a hushed voice, “May I borrow your gun?” Antti - we were still shaking hands - thought to himself, “I came to the wrong party...”

Virtuous Leadership

I'm involded with two projects this summer that deal with the new kind of leadership culture called "virtuous leadership". Firstly, I'm translating Alexandre Havard's brilliant Virtuous Leadership into Finnish.

It is currently being translated into four or five different languages (following successful sales in the US), and we hope to find a major published next fall or winter. Alexandre Havard is the multilingual director of the European Center of Leadership Development (ECLD). He was born in France, lived in Helsinki for eighteen years, and now works out of Moscow. The man holds seminars in English, Finnish, French, Spanish, and Russian.

Secondly, to help stir virtue-related discussion in the Finnish society, a few friends and I have begun a new blog (in Finnish): www.hyvejohtajuus.fi. It's part of a bigger project of which more will be said in due time. Meanwhile, I encourage all the Finnish speakers to partake in the discussion. Questions, comments and all forms of critique are highly welcome! We are all novices here. There is a lot to learn for everyone.