Christianity, the religion of love, is condemned for being hateful; in the meantime, those who hurl this accusation are wholeheartedly embracing hatred, not least for Christianity. What is going on?
Well, many things. But one of them is that the Christian understanding of hatred, based on charity, is being replaced with another understanding of hatred, based on identity. For the Christian, to hate someone is to desire ill to him. That is wrong. One must desire good for him – which may in some cases require that he change his ways.
But for the person caught up in the ideology of identity, to think that someone needs to change his ways simply is to hate him, because it is a rejection of who he thinks he is. A person who holds this ideology may will all sorts of ill to those who do not celebrate the unchanged ways of others. Because they are haters, you see.
From a reader in Israel:
I read with interest your article on the early Christian teachings on tolerance. Unfortunately most of these words were not heeded. Nor were the primary teachings of Christianity -- “Love thy neighbor” and “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you” One thousand years of Christian antisemitism in Europe prepared the way for Hitler's Final Solution. Indeed I must agree with one Spanish Christian writer that Jesus died in the gas chambers of Auschwitz. All the best and much future success.
Thank you for writing. I mourn desecrations of Christ’s love among some who have laid claim to His name, as I hate the abominations of the beasts of Auschwitz who despised the very thought of that love. In my house we remember the words of God to Abraham: “I will bless those who bless you, and him who curses you I will curse; and by you all the families of the earth shall bless themselves.” Peace be with you and your family.
You must remember that this is Texas.
On Easter morning, the children were going downstairs, ready to hunt for their Easter baskets before going to church. They are well instructed in the liturgy.
Spontaneously, their father said “Alleluia!”
Their mother replied, “The Lord is risen!”
The children replied, “He is risen indeed!”
Except for one little man, who added “Yeee-haw!”
If I twittered, this would be a tweet, because Jennifer Roback Morse has produced the best short definition of the sexual revolution that I have seen. She accurately describes it as three interacting elements: The separation of sex from babies, the separation of both of them from marriage, and the attempt to eradicate differences between men and women.
Some readers are thinking, “What’s wrong with that?”
On the same topic:
The times are strange and getting stranger. Not least of its ideological brutalities is that according to the fashion of the day, a certain form of contempt for women is called feminism.
For consider: Men who despise women think that to be worthy of respect, one must be like a man. They deny respect to women, because they are not like men. Some women respond that they are worthy of respect because they are like men. The curious thing about this response is that it concedes the misogynists’ premise: That to be worthy of respect, one must be like a man. Call it what you will, this is merely a feminine variation on the contempt some men have for women.
It is a little different than the older variation, in which women dislike other women because they are competitors, or because only male opinion matters to them. However, one cannot help wondering whether the two variations are connected.
Someone might ask, “How could feminists want to be like men? Don’t many of them hate men?” Certainly, but anyone who hasn’t noticed that envy is a motive for hatred must have had very little experience of life. “But don’t they also demand that men be more like women?” Yes, but that isn’t counter-evidence; it is part of the same pattern. For the more men resemble women, the easier it is for women to be like them.
A true feminism would refuse to concede that to be worthy of respect, one must be like a man. Instead of demanding that women be respected for what they are not, it would require that they be respected for what they are.
How wonderful that there are two kinds of us! Why is it so hard to be delighted?
Greetings from Jerusalem (yes – you also have readers from the holy land).
In many cases, people who tend to provide rational arguments are perceived by others as people who are “anti-feelings.” I personally tend to talk to many people about all the big issues -- the existence of God, the absolute distinction between man and woman, the objectivity of morality, etc. -- and almost every time, I feel that when I suggest a rational “winning” argument, the fact that I provided an argument has turned into a reason not to listen to me, since I was targeting the intellect and not the feeling.
The funny thing is that I personally feel that feelings are very important, and although I don’t think that they can override true statements – they are still important. The problem is that I only feel that feelings are important, and I don’t fully understand why this is so.
So my question is this: What is in your opinion the true role of feelings so that when you understand them correctly you can also create an optimal synthesis between the feelings and the intellect?
I’m delighted to have readers in Israel, and I’ve enjoyed thinking about your puzzle.
Rather than tackling your puzzle by itself, let me put it in the context of a larger one, for even apart from emotionalism, there are a variety of possible reasons why people might sometimes reject good arguments. Since some of these might be motives for emotionalism, or might be mistaken for emotionalism, it would be good to consider them first.
Of these reasons, some have to do with the speaker, and some have to do with the listener. But some have to do with the nature of reasoning, and this will bring us back to your question.
Reasons concerning the speaker:
Needless to say, I might fail to convince simply because I am wrong! At present, though, we may set this possibility aside – we are not considering why I might fall into error, but why people might not even wish to listen to valid arguments from true premises.
Here, the biggest problem probably lies in my attitude -- I don’t say you have this problem. Suppose I am trying to persuade someone, and I am too intense. To the listener it may seem as though I am interested in the conclusion of the argument not so much because it is true, as because I want to win, or even because I want to put the listener down. The listener may well conclude that he has better ways to spend his time than listening to me.
I may give the impression of viewing the discussion as combat to the death because I really do. But even if this is not at all my attitude, it is an easy impression to give. For example,
● I may frown with the intensity of concentration, and my frown may come across as hostile.
● I may be so quick to answer objections that the listener thinks I am not really listening.
● I may seem to be an opponent – “you’re wrong” -- rather than a partner in a shared search for truth – “I see what you mean, but let me present another possibility.”
What I need to do is present my arguments in such a way that I am winsome rather than threatening, and in such a way that my desire for the truth and my respect for the listener come across clearly.
Reasons concerning the listener:
Some people might not listen even when the speaker is doing everything right. For example,
● The listener may so insecure that he thinks I am out for his blood no matter how winsome I am.
● He may be lazy, resisting the work of reasoning logically because it is so much easier not to question anything. People who are like this tend to consider their condition normal, so that if someone does try to reason carefully with them, they suspect that there is something not quite right in his emotional balance.
● He may have reason to fear what the argument would show him, because the truth itself might be threatening -- and it may be threatening in all sorts of ways. Perhaps he does not want to be convinced that men and women are different because his friends would consider him unenlightened. He may be afraid to believe that God exists because he is afraid of divine punishment. Or he may be unable to bear the possibility that abortion is wrong because he has been involved in one.
● He may be simply uninterested in the truth. He wants to win. Period.
Such obstacles are very difficult to overcome, but there is always hope --
● In dealing with someone who is insecure, I must not only be gentle and patient, but also be content with small gains.
● Although a person who is lazy might never be willing to reason with me, there may come a time when the pain and burden of his mistaken beliefs has finally become so great that he is willing to go to the trouble of thinking clearly.
● Someone who resists argument because he fears what its outcome might be is already half-convinced – otherwise he would not be afraid! But the price of self-deception is eternal vigilance, because there are so many things he must not allow himself to think about. Too many. Even the most self-deceived persons have moments when they see clearly, just because they cannot suppress the awareness of every aspect of reality at once.
● Someone who just wants to win is not someone you need to be talking with – unless, perhaps, other people are listening. Then you must try to reach them, not him. However, sometimes a person who is debating you rather than conversing with you may be willing to have a real conversation if other people are not listening in, because then he can be honest without losing face.
● A great deal depends on timing. The funeral of a young man who has committed suicide is probably not the right time to persuade the grieving parents that taking one’s own life is a mortal sin.
Reasons concerning the nature of reasoning:
Whenever we are presented with a valid argument from true premises, we ought to accept it. But it is far from true to say that whenever we are presented with an apparently valid argument from apparently true premises, we ought to accept it. A certain degree of rational stubbornness, a certain suspicion about the premises or about the inferences, a certain reluctance to be convinced – this might be entirely proper. Isn’t it true, after all, that even experts can be mistaken about the facts? In fact they often are; people who know a great deal about a given field may be unduly swayed by dominant theories so that they cannot see things that are staring them in the face. And isn’t it true that people who are more expert in debate than ourselves can be highly persuasive, even when they are arguing nonsense?
Now turn that around. Not every instance of resistance to our own arguments, however good they may be, is necessarily irrational. Sometimes it is even reasonable for someone to say, “I don’t see how what you say can be mistaken, but I’m not willing to be convinced so quickly.” Our response should be, “I understand, and I will always be willing to discuss your doubts.”
Already I think it should be clear that not everything that looks like preferring emotions to intellect necessarily is. In fact, I would go further. The very idea of thinking that we can choose between feelings and reasoning is mistaken, because these two things are never separate. The only question is how they should be integrated. Emotionalists aren’t people who feel and don’t think, but people who allow feelings to play the wrong role in thinking.
You’re right, of course, that a feeling can never override a true statement: If I don’t like it that the statement is true, that doesn’t make it untrue. But feelings are important to thinking itself, in a variety of ways.
● One way is that feelings are sometimes data for the intellect. If I feel uncomfortable about doing something, the feeling may be mistaken, but I ought to do it the courtesy of asking why. Perhaps I ought to feel uncomfortable. Perhaps my conscience is working on me, and things have not become clear yet.
● Another way is that feelings are sometimes modes of operation of the intellect. For example, to be angry is to be aroused to the defense of an endangered good. In order to think clearly and quickly about what is endangered and about what must be done for its defense, I may need to be angry – not excessively, but in due measure. Or consider the infliction of the sentence for a crime. Yes, of course I should carefully consider all of the relevant factors, and my mind should not be blurred with passion. But if I feel nothing at all – if I am completely cold, unable to feel moral indignation about the crime, commiseration for the victims, or compassion for the mess that the criminal has made of his life – it is difficult to see how I can do justice without sacrificing mercy.
● Still another way is that certain feelings are native to the intellect itself. Hunger is native to the belly, but the hunger to understand, which is keener still, has its proper home in the mind.
The Stoics thought that the passions were morbid, something like infections of the intellect, so that the wise and virtuous man would cleanse his mind of them. Marcus Aurelius bid himself not even to grieve for the death of his daughter, for death is the way of things, and he should not be an abscess on the universe. But it is not the passions that are morbid, but this way of thinking.
Aristotle’s insight was better: Wisdom and virtue lie not in having no feelings, or in refusing to allow them any place in our thoughts, but in the discipline by which we feel the right things, toward the right persons, at the right times, in the right ways, and for the right reasons.
So was St. Augustine’s insight: “In our ethics, we do not so much inquire whether a pious soul is angry, as why he is angry; not whether he is sad, but what is the cause of his sadness; not whether he fears, but what he fears. For I am not aware that any right thinking person would find fault with anger at a wrongdoer which seeks his amendment, or with sadness which intends relief to the suffering, or with fear lest one in danger be destroyed.”
Also on the topic:
Recently an Iranian convert to Christianity appealed to the U.K. for religious asylum because he feared persecution. The Home Office, which handles such cases, questioned his story by quoting several verses from Exodus, Leviticus, and Revelations. “These examples,” he was told, “are inconsistent with your claim that you converted to Christianity after discovering it is a ‘peaceful religion’ as opposed to Islam, which contained violence and rage.”
When the incident became public, the Anglican Bishop of Durham slammed the statement for biblical illiteracy and remarked, “To use extracts from the Book of Revelation to argue that Christianity is a violent religion is like arguing that a Government report on the impact of Climate Change is advocating drought and flooding.”
True. But if I were a biblically illiterate Home Office official, I would want to know how I went wrong. Why shouldn’t I have said what I said? Being a Christian, I want biblically illiterate officials to know too. The U.K. Home Office backed down, but next time it might not. If our own illiterates have their way, the U.S. is next.
It would take a long time to cover all the ins and outs of biblical interpretation. Besides, Holy Scripture is interpreted by Sacred Tradition. So let us consider what the Church herself has taught from earliest times.
Contrary to secularist clichés, the Fathers of the Church pioneered the doctrine of religious toleration. And yes, they did this not only while the Roman Empire was persecuting them, but also afterward.
“There is no occasion for violence and injury, for religion cannot be imposed by force; the matter must be carried on by words rather than by blows, that the will may be affected. Let [the persecutors] unsheathe the weapon of their intellect; if their system is true, let it be asserted. We are prepared to hear, if they teach; while they are silent, we certainly pay no credit to them, as we do not yield to them even in their rage. Let them imitate us in setting forth the system of the whole matter: for we do not entice, as they say; but we teach, we prove, we show. And thus no one is detained by us against his will, for he is unserviceable to God who is destitute of faith and devotedness; and yet no one departs from us, since the truth itself detains him. ... Why then do they rage, so that while they wish to lessen their folly, they increase it? Torture and piety are widely different; nor is it possible for truth to be united with violence, or justice with cruelty.”
“But, they say, the public rites of religion must be defended. Oh with what an honorable inclination the wretched men go astray! For they are aware that there is nothing among men more excellent than religion, and that this ought to be defended with the whole of our power; but as they are deceived in the matter of religion itself, so also are they in the manner of its defense. For religion is to be defended, not by putting to death, but by dying; not by cruelty, but by patient endurance; not by guilt, but by good faith: for the former belong to evils, but the latter to goods; and it is necessary for that which is good to have place in religion, and not that which is evil. For if you wish to defend religion by bloodshed, and by tortures, and by guilt, it will no longer be defended, but will be polluted and profaned. For nothing is so much a matter of free‑will as religion; in which, if the mind of the worshipper is disinclined to it, religion is at once taken away, and ceases to exist. The right method therefore is, that you defend religion by patient endurance or by death; in which the preservation of the faith is both pleasing to God Himself, and adds authority to religion.”
Hilary of Poitiers:
“God does not want unwilling worship, nor does He require a forced repentance.”
Isidore of Pelusium:
“Since it seems not good forcibly to draw over to the faith those who are gifted with a free will, employ at the proper time conviction and by your life enlighten those who are in darkness.”
Isidore of Pelusium again:
"Human salvation is procured not by force but by persuasion and gentleness."
“It is the law of mankind and the natural right of each individual to worship what he thinks proper, nor does the religion of one man either harm or help another. But, it is not proper for religion to compel men to religion, which should be accepted of one's own accord, not by force, since sacrifices also are required of a willing mind. So, even if you compel us to sacrifice, you will render no service to your gods. They will not desire sacrifices from the unwilling unless they are quarrelsome -- but a god is not quarrelsome.”
“For see that you do not give a further ground for the charge of irreligion, by taking away religious liberty, and forbidding free choice of deity, so that I may no longer worship according to my inclination, but am compelled to worship against it. Not even a human being would care to have unwilling homage rendered him.”
“Such is the character of our doctrine; what about yours? No one ever persecuted it, nor is it right for Christians to eradicate error by constraint and force, but to save humanity by persuasion and reason and gentleness. Hence no emperor of Christian persuasion enacted against you legislation such as was contrived against us by those who served demons. Just as a body given over to a long and wasting disease perishes of its own accord, without anyone injuring it, and gradually breaks down and is destroyed, so the error of Greek superstition, though it enjoyed so much tranquility and was never bothered by anyone, nevertheless was extinguished by itself and collapsed internally. Therefore, although this satanic farce has not been completely obliterated from the earth, what has already happened is able to convince you concerning its future.”
Chrysostom considers the Christianization of the imperial government a decidedly mixed blessing:
“When a Christian ascends the imperial throne, far from being shored up by human honors, Christianity deteriorates. On the other hand, when rule is held by an impious man, who persecutes us in every way and subjects us to countless evils, then our cause acquires renown and becomes more brilliant, then is the time of valor and trophies, then is the opportunity to attain crowns, praises, and every distinction.”
Athanasius argues that by relying on coercion instead of persuasion, those who cling to the Arian heresy, which denied the divinity of Christ, prove that they have neither arguments, confidence, nor divine authority for their beliefs:
“Now if it was altogether unbecoming in any of the Bishops to change their opinions merely from fear of these things, yet it was much more so, and not the part of men who have confidence in what they believe, to force and compel the unwilling. In this manner it is that the Devil, when he has no truth on his side, attacks and breaks down the doors of them that admit him with axes and hammers. But our Savior is so gentle that he teaches thus, "If any man wills to come after Me, and, Whoever wills to be My disciple" [Matthew 16:24]; and coming to each He does not force them, but knocks at the door and says, "Open to Me, My sister, My spouse" [Song of Solomon 5:2]; and if they open to Him, He enters in, but if they delay and will not, He departs from them. For the truth is not preached with swords or with darts, nor by means of soldiers; but by persuasion and counsel. But what persuasion is there when the Emperor [Constantius] prevails [in favor of Arianism]? or what counsel is there, when he who withstands them receives at last banishment and death? Even David, although he was a king, and had his enemy in his power, prevented not the soldiers by an exercise of authority when they wished to kill his enemy, but, as the Scripture says, David persuaded his men by arguments, and suffered them not to rise up and put Saul to death. But [Constantius], being without arguments of reason, forces all men by his power, that it may be shown to all, that their wisdom is not according to God, but merely human, and that they who favor the Arian doctrines have indeed no king but Caesar; for by his means it is that these enemies of Christ accomplish whatsoever they wish to do.”
As in the previous passage, so in the following, Athanasius develops his doctrine not in spite of Holy Scripture but because of it:
“The other heresies also, when the very Truth has refuted them on the clearest evidence, are wont to be silent, being simply confounded by their conviction. But this modern and accursed heresy, when it is overthrown by argument, when it is cast down and covered with shame by the very Truth, forthwith endeavors to reduce by violence and stripes and imprisonment those whom it has been unable to persuade by argument, thereby acknowledging itself to be anything rather than godly. For it is the part of true godliness not to compel, but to persuade, as I said before. Thus our Lord Himself, not as employing force, but as offering to their free choice, has said to all, "If any man will follow after me"; and to His disciples, "Will you also go away?" [John 6:67.]”
Needless to say, Christians have not always practiced what these Fathers of the Church preached. But episodes of persecution reflect not the essence of Christianity, but reversions to sub‑Christian understandings of what it means to adhere to God – understandings that fall lower than "faith working through love" [Galatians 5:6].
It is not always obvious which episodes really did constitute intolerance of the sort reprobated by the Fathers. Consider the case of Augustine of Hippo, condemned by secularists for having changed his mind about the treatment of the fifth‑century heresy of Donatism. According to the conventional account, although at first Augustine favored converting the Donatists through persuasion, he later agreed to coercion because persuasion was not working. The critical question, omitted by this account, is what it is that persuasion was not working at. Although, with Augustine's support, the profession of Donatism was indeed made a criminal offense in A.D. 412, what changed Augustine's mind was not that the Donatists refused to accept the Catholic faith, but that in the promotion of their own views they resorted to violence:
“Catholics, and especially the bishops and clergy, have suffered many terrible hardships, which it would take too long to go through in detail, seeing that some of them had their eyes put out, and one bishop his hands and tongue cut off, while some were actually murdered. I say nothing of massacres of the most cruel description, and robberies of houses, committed in nocturnal burglaries, with the burning not only of private houses, but even of churches -- some being found abandoned enough to cast the sacred books into the flames.”
The point here is not that Augustine made the correct prudential judgments about how to deal with such violence, but that the question about the correctness of his judgments has been framed improperly. The issue before him what not what to do about false belief, but what to do about violence motivated by false belief. If a comparison with our own day is needed, we may say that from Augustine's point of view, the suppression of Donatism was less like, say, the suppression of Islam, than like suppression of an Islamic terrorist organization such as al‑Qaeda or ISIS.
Gregory of Nazianzus might almost be taken to be speaking of certain U.K. Home Office officials when he explains that in the Age of the Church, the Old Testament passages about “stoning” those who misrepresent doctrine are to be taken in their spiritual meaning, not their literal meaning – for in the age of the Church, to be “stoned” is to suffer the logical refutation of one's arguments:
“But if any is an evil and savage beast, and altogether incapable to taking in the subject matter of contemplation and theology, let him not hurtfully and malignantly lurk in his den among the woods, to catch hold of some dogma or saying by a sudden spring, and to tear sound doctrine to pieces by his misrepresentations, but let him stand yet afar off and withdraw from the Mount, or he shall be stoned and crushed, and shall perish miserably in his wickedness. For to those who are like wild beasts true and sound discourses are stones.”
The common sense of the matter is that whether any particular religion favors toleration will depend on its other convictions. Some religions favor toleration, others do not. I am speaking not only of avowed religions, but also secularist ideologies such as the ones those Home Office officials seem to hold – for although they reject the God revealed in Scripture, they serve gods of their own devising.
You cannot know whether God loves or loathes persecution unless you have some idea who He is.
All quotations from J. Budziszewski, The Line Through the Heart: Natural Law as Fact, Theory, and Sign of Contradiction, Chapter 10. Details about the sources of the quotations are found there.