The main character was the usual tortured ex-CIA agent, already a cliché when the show aired twenty-five years ago, a man haunted by his past and trying to find peace by using his skills to help the weak being victimized by the strong. More likely to be found in real life than the lead of The Equalizer, I think, was the lead in a Schwarzenegger movie who, when his wife finds out he’s a spy and yells “You kill people!”, replies, “Yes, but dey were all verry bahd.”
In any case, in one episode, the doctor running a slum clinic asks the Equalizer to save the clinic from a particularly vicious gang, but to his frustration (and that of most viewers, I’m sure) will not let him remove the threat in his usual way. She expects his help but forbids him to use violence, and he clearly has no idea what to do. I’m pretty sure she tells him that violence begets violence, and never really solves anything.
Not knowing what to do, he visits an old man who turns out to have been a chief torturer for the Cuban secret police. He asks the man why he left the police and escaped to America, and the man tells the story of torturing a Christian who, no matter how badly he hurt him, never reviled him or betrayed his God. After torturing the man for days, he says, “I looked in his face and saw the love of God.” An extraordinary moment for television, that.
Convinced by the ex-torturer’s witness, the Equalizer returns to the clinic and rallies the people of the neighborhood to surround the clinic when the gang comes to destroy it. The people united drive away the brutes without violence or injury. And all because, if I understood the plot right, a man who showed the love of God changed another man’s life.
This is something very like the argument now often made against any kind of apologetic argument, whether offered in rebuttal of some counter-claim or outright assault or in defense of a Christian doctrine. Intellectual combat is bad, and not just bad, ineffective. Only the witness of a godly life does any good.
The claim is that argument only begets argument, and never changes anyone’s minds. Those of us who write apologetically (I write a column for our diocesan newspaper) can tell you how often some sophisticated Christian will explain how pointless and naïve is the exercise, because of course argument just begets arguments and . . . . It’s very trying.
Responding to last week’s column on the limits of apologetic writing, “The Atheist Gives Us Nothing,” a friend wrote that the argument reminded him of a book he’d just been reading, Father George Calciu: Interviews, Homilies, and Talks. Fr. Calciu was a Romanian Orthodox priest who suffered for 21 years in Ceausescu’s gulag. He was released in 1985 and deported to the United States. He died in 2006. My friend—who is not one of those trying people I just mentioned—explained that Fr. George
says that one should never put much work into making rational arguments for the faith, because few people are ever converted by mere reasoning. It’s far more important to assert faith in Christ, and in the Resurrection, and to live out that truth in concrete ways, especially by showing love to all, most of all to our enemies. He said that he found in prison, nobody was convinced by his constructing arguments for Christianity, but he saw people actually converted by him doing things like refusing anger, by his fidelity to saying the Liturgy, and praying.
”Having finished this book,” continued my friend, “I think I’m starting to understand why, in ‘The Grand Inquisitor,’ the only response Christ gives to the Inquisitor is to kiss him. The idea here is that true conversion is conversion of the heart, not the mind—and that hearts are only really converted by love, not by reasoning.”
This is obviously true, but not, I think, the whole truth. John Henry Newman argued something like this, which was part of the significance of his famous motto “heart speaks to heart” (not, though he was a theologian, “mind speaks to mind”), partly by reflecting on how people came to believe what they believed and how they could feel so certain about matters, like Christian dogmas, they could not prove in the usual way.
But he also saw that a love of truth and therefore of argument was part of what characterized and formed the heart. The heart, let me emphasize, that speaks to other hearts. The man who loves something wants to know about it. He wants, as far as the subject allows, to think about it, to analyze it, to understand it deeply. He will use that knowledge to come to its defense when it is misunderstood or misinterpreted or publicly derided or denied. This is even truer when he loves someone. If he doesn’t want to know, he doesn’t truly love.
That is where the new anti-apologists go wrong. They are right that argument mostly begets argument, and that arguments by themselves rarely change anyone’s mind. But they are wrong to dismiss apologetics for that reason. They’re not thinking clearly about what people who believe do, and how people come to believe. People want answers, and for some, as far as we mortals can tell, the answers make or break the sale.
Look again at Father George. Perhaps the other prisoners in the Gulag were convinced by Father George’s life in part because he was ready and able to answer their questions when they asked him, and might have hesitated or refused were they not also convinced by him that the faith was rational and intellectually satisfying. Their overt conversions may have come in response to his life, but that doesn’t mean they would have come without his intellectual endeavors.
The life of a man like Father George says in visible and compelling ways, “I love Jesus, and I would like you to love Him too.” Some people will say, “If Jesus is good enough for Father George, He’s good enough for me.” But others will ask who Jesus is, and why anyone would believe that, and why he isn’t something else, and what is the answer to this famous skeptic and that learned agnostic and the latest National Geographic special on the newest newfound lost gospel.
He will have all sorts of questions, some of them better than others but all important to him, and he will want answers, no matter how compelling he finds the saintliest Christian’s witness. Indeed, he will expect answers, because if Jesus is who He seems to be, judging from the holy Christian’s life that has moved his heart, answers there will be, and at least some Christians ought to know them. That is what his heart tells him, and the way he discerns what is truly in others’ hearts.
Drawn to the door by seeing the love of God in a man’s life, he still needs argument, to open the door for him, or drag away all the rocks and trees that block the door, or reassure him that he is doing the right thing in entering the house. Witness will not be enough. He will need someone like the Schwarzenegger character, because many arguments are verry, verry bahd.
David Mills is Deputy Editor of First Things. His previous “On the Square” articles can be found here.
RESOURCES:
David Mills’ The Atheist Gives Us Nothing.
Father George Calciu’s Father George Calciu: Interviews, Homilies, and Talks.
On Father Calciu, see his testimony after he was released from prison in Romania and came to the United States, and Frederica Mathewes-Green’s Remembering Father George Calciu.
Comments:
The nightly discourse of Christ with Nicodemus comes to my mind - here is a member of the intellectual, political, and religious elite, moved by the charitable miracles of Christ, coming to Him under the cover of night seeking answers to the many questions forming in his mind;
Another example may be that of Mother Theresa - moved by Christ to corporally and spiritually help the least of India, by doing this saintly work has also formed a powerful intellectual argument on behalf of human dignity and against those systems that are blind to it - without using many words;
Or Saint Patrick - moved by Christ to return to his former pagan captors, then by the example of his holy life and arguments tailored to the intellectual capacity of his charges, bringing them closer to the Light.
I think there is a certain synergy between these two aspects of the Faith that should be, as the article argues, acknowledged.
Conversations come up at the oddest or least expected times and often with people one would never expect. I have found that a kind of reverse witness can often be the most effective. Rather than arguing for my position we talk about what they think and why they think it. Here is often revealed the paucity of their understanding. This is not done, for my part, as cynically as it may sound. In the natural thread of the conversation I will interject elements of what I think and why. I usually do this with people that seem to have rather negative opinions of religion for reasons that are difficult to fathom, sometimes not. One of my purposes is to break the first wall, religious people are stupid and why would I listen to what they say. Often this is enough to make them question their presumptions. It's like they say in A.A." we are not saying that you won't drink again we're saying that you will never have a guilt free drink again". The seed has been planted, where it goes is anyones guess but this I can say because I have seen mens language change from one of practical blasphemy to respectful references, from time to time, to God. Sometimes it does not take the grand victory to indicate a change but just the planting of doubt in there minds about what they thought while gently hinting at an alternative reality that lies behind their jaded thought. Hey it's not St. Paul, or Aquinas, Augustine or the saints but it is apologetics writ small and sometimes it is effective.
1) Privileging heart at the expense of head sounds to me like divorcing faith and reason; perhaps some helpful classic conceptions of the relationship between faith and reason are lurking here begging to be made explicit?
2) I keep thinking of how important Mere Christianity was to me, and to many, many friends, in our coming fully to Christian commitment.
This lends itself to apologetics understood not so much as an intellectual overpowering of unbelief, which I think we recognize as unhelpful, but for apologetics as an account of faith by the standards of contemporary rationality---a *kind* of theology as faith seeking understanding, but with an emphasis on initial assent to fides qua or fides quae. This includes private disclosure of one's reasons for belief, but perhaps at times also a public defense of faith's rationality.
And as with military defense, the goal is not so much to convert or subdue the enemy as it is to protect those who might otherwise be weakened or harmed by his threats.
Anyway, Fr. George was a very remarkable man, almost luminous in his inner tranquility; his faith shone through him like light through glass. Just being in his presence was inspirational, and I can imagine the impact his personality must have had on both his jailers and his fellow prisoners.
One can see this quite plainly by comparing a couple of books of convert stories: "Rome Sweet Rome", edited by Scott Hahn; and "Toward the Authentic Church", a set of Orthodox conversion experiences compiled by Thomas Doulis. As might be expected, the conversion stories compiled by Hahn follow a familiar path: the potential convert, whether atheist, agnostic, Jew or Protestant, asks a lot of questions, makes a lot of objections, but is gradually worn down by the force of irrefutable arguments made in a kind of apologetic dialogue. The Orthodox conversion stories are very different. The searcher is not convinced by rational argument, but by an overwhelming encounter with the Living God, usually in the course of a liturgical service in an Orthodox church, or by a meeting with a Starets or Geront, an Orthodox "elder" or holy man.
The gestalt of the encounter is the decisive moment--questions come later, and take the form not so much of arguments or attempts to beat down objections, but of filling in the blank spots, of making clear that which was obscured, of deepening the mystery even while revealing it.
Some people want or need to be convinced intellectually before they can set out upon the journey of discovery that is the Christian life. But others find that putting the intellectual dimension first creates a stumbling block, because such arguments can never be definitively settled--as was said, argument leads to more argument.
The Protestant Professor of Christian Studies, Daniel Clendenin, ran into this when he was teaching theology at Moscow State University in the early 1990s. He chose to use C.C. Lewis' "Mere Christianity" as the basic text, because of its "careful delineation of basic Christianity", as well as its availability in Russian translation. "Lewis was a sure bet", he thought, "to impress these students who were enrolled in what, only a few years ago, was called the Department of Scientific Atheism".
He was quite surprised, therefore, to discover his seminar, a bright bunch of graduate students that included both believers and non-believers, were not much impressed by Lewis' arguments. "How could this be, when the book had been so powerful for so many people in the West?"
One of his students, a friend and "non-theist" named Vasily, finally explained it to Clendenin, in a way that he admits startled him: "[Vasily's] problem with Lewis was not so much the content of his book; it was more basic than that. Vasily objected to his entire methodological orientation: 'Lewis is too logical and rational'".
The following year, he used "The Problem of Pain" in a seminar on the problem of evil. Again, he sensed that his students were not being engaged by the book, and one student in particular, Maxim--a believer--put it to Clendinin this way: "I don't like Lewis' position that we must use logic to discuss the question of evil. It isn't right to use logic to discus questions in the numenal realm. In discussing the phenomenal realm, the world of creation and nature, logic is good and proper, but not with metaphysical questions. Problems relating to God transcend human logic".
Clendenin was totally bewildered by this: "Too logical? Too rational? How is it possible for an author to be too logical? Is not rationality a virtue to cultivate, rather than a vice to avoid? The remarks by Vasily and Maxim, and my own initial shock, point to a major difference in perspective in the theological posture of the Orthodox theologians in the East and their counterparts in the West"
I would submit that this difference in perspective explains the different type of apologetic used by Orthodox like Father George, both in form and in function. Orthodox theology is experiential, like the Orthodox faith. One comes to know it not by reading about it, or arguing over it (though, by God, the Orthodox do love to argue!), but rather by living it, immersing one's self in the experience and letting it wash over you like a cleansing wave. At some point, there will be questions, and one will seek answers, but these, as I noted are a matter of filling in blank spaces. One cannot become truly Orthodox through a dialectical process, but only through a change of nouos, a "metanoia", or conversion.
Merton said something in "The Seven Storey Mountain" that has remained with me over the years. He said that early on in his Christian life, he thought his conversion solid because he was prepared to stay up late at night to argue for the Faith with all comers. He realized later, though, that his conversion was a lot more precarious than he thought, precisely because his will had not yet been seriously converted. If memory serves, Merton concluded that the mind is not likely to be persuaded that something it perceives is true by virtue of reason is false -- but that the will is able to prevent the mind from honestly considering a thing in the first place.
This describes my initial encounter with Christianity as an undergraduate. I thought Christianity was a pathetic myth, not something that any serious intellectual could believe. I came to realize later, though, that I had not given the slightest bit of serious thought to Christianity -- that in fact I had not wanted it to be true, because if it was, then I would have to change my life in ways I was not willing to do (especially reforming my sexual behavior). Perhaps what Fr. George was getting at is that offering reasoned arguments for the faith are like throwing pearls before swine if someone's heart is not predisposed to preparing the mind to receive them. I know it was that way with me: I had to have my heart pierced and my imagination illuminated before I was able to consider the arguments for Christianity.
To Edmond Saul would be the last one I mention. Jesus does reason with him on the road. Saul is shocked by the understanding of what he has done. He then goes on to write a series of letters that Peter mentions "are hard to understand" for their apologetic content.
Making rational, logical arguments for issues of faith is a waste of time.
It's like asking someone......"What does blue taste like?"
But I understand that there will always be a human impulse to try to prove God by reason....and disprove God by reason.
It's all been done before....ad nauseum.....and you can count me out.
The great Dostoevsky makes the greatest rational argument ever made against God in his "Rebellion" chapter of the Brothers Karamazov.
And Father Zossima's response FOR God is that of a mystic.
FMD got the crux................and all these years later, when Hitchens indulges himself in an ode to atheism...........who's argument does he fall back on?
The Rebellion of Ivan Karamazov.
Too bad Hitch couldn't get on board with FMD speaking through Father Zossima.
I suspect a questioning of the role of apologetics may lead to a weakening what it means to live a godly life, that just love, as in kindness, is enough as opposed to true Christian agape love.
I'd like to read his writings..........and something tells me.......you'll see a kindred spirit to other great believer survivors........Armando Valladares, Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn and Watchman Nee.
And maybe even Father Zossima.
Precisely.
We diocesan clergy (Orthodox) try to have an annual retreat at the Monastery of the Dormition of the Mother of God in Rives Junction, MI, a woman's institution with Romanian roots.
Their long-time priest who is now essentially retired due to age and health limitations, Fr. Roman Braga, is also a veteran of Romanian communism (and it's "tender mercies" like prison camps and solitary confinement for Christians) and I believe an acquaintance of Fr. Calciu. In one of our sessions with Fr. Roman, he contrasted the way he learned Orthodoxy from how it is happening in North America to converts like me. For Fr. Roman, it was the holiness of the monastic community of men that was just outside the village where he lived with his family that sealed his commitment to Christ and Church. It was sitting through the services and meeting the monks and so on as a child that spurred him on, and he was careful to explain to us that this occurred without "arguments for" Christianity, well into his early adulthood when he discerned his vocation.
Conversely, he noted, Americans who are on the road to becoming Orthodox (and no doubt to Christianity generally) want texts, reasons and, frankly, dialectics. They want to be convinced so they can become convincing. While he agreed that, obviously, there needs to be theology as a discipline and that this "explaining" business will be a necessary component to the Orthodox mission in North America, he is not comfortable with theology that not only is not isolated from a life of prayer, he worries that most enterprises of theology do not grow OUT OF prayer among Americans.
I ask Fr. Roman's forgiveness for paraphrasing what he said next but it was immensely important: "I'm just an old monk who was born in another country in a very different time. But it seems to me that instead of giving explanations to seekers at Orthodox Churches, we should simply give them a prayer book and say, 'here, go do this every day.'"
The reason that Westerners struggle with Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, Solzhenitsyn, Soloviev etc. is that.........these great thinkers are mystics.
The Anglo-Saxon mind is geared to a materialist worldview which resists mysticism.
I believe that because Russians have always been the bridge between Eastern and Western thought........they are a synthesis of both and a unique hybrid.
Which is why we sense their greatness but are at a loss to describe it.
I once talked to Ignat Solzhenitsyn(Aleksandr's son) about this.........and he said this is why his father was always misunderstood in the US.
When you read Solzhenitsyn's "the Ascent" from Gulag Archipelago and see AIS using quotes from Lao Tzu to advance his unique viewpoint.......you see the lineage.
And I have found no higher form of literature in all my years.
CS Lewis is great indeed.............but the Russians on on their own level.
1) "Preach the gospel at all times. Use words if necessary."
I think St. Francis knew that witness was crucial, but we humans need the words too, sometimes.
2) "Arguments are to be avoided; they are always vulgar and often convincing."
Oscar Wilde knew that the brain could lead the heart somewhere it hadn't previously expected to go.
Keep up the good work, David!
You will annoy some ... and convert some, too.
But it's not something on which to base a generalization like Stuart Koehl's. In Hahn's Rome Sweet Home, for example -- which is his own conversion story and not a collection -- he describes being drawn to the Mass and entranced by the experience in the way Koehl describes as somehow specially Eastern. This is in various ways a description lots of Catholic converts describe, including those who came from Evangelicalism. They will usually also discuss their reasons, but it would no point in their favor if they didn't.
Something I read once said that if we had a video of Christ emerging from the tomb on Easter morning, so that no one could argue against the reality of the resurrection, one would still be faced with the question of its meaning and what it demands of us, namely, the reorientation of one's life and being, and that despite the presence of photographic evidence, people would still reject the gospel because of those demands, not because they can't accept it at an intellectual level.
My own conversion was a gradual process from skepticism to theism to Christ, and along the way, I cannot think that I was ever swayed by a consciously apologetic argument. The tipping point for me was not a book, but rather a motion picture: Sergei Bondarchuk's monumental "War and Peace", and specifically the scene before the Battle of Borodino, in which the Black Virgin of Smolensk icon is brought forward for veneration by the Russian army. Bondarchuk had been given 20,000 Soviet soldiers as extras, and these were now filing by the icon, dropping to their knees, crossing and prostrating themselves and singing hymns to the Theotokos--and it struck me, these men aren't acting. This is real. They mean what they are doing. Half a century of Communist indoctrination and persecution has not knocked this out of them. They know, they remember, they believe. How do they do this? Whatever it is, I want to be part of it.
Eventually I did find myself in a Russian Orthodox church for the Divine Liturgy, and the experience was more overpowering than ever I expected it to be. Even today, some fifteen years after my baptism, the Liturgy remains an inexhaustible mystery for me, ever presenting new glories and beauty beyond comprehension, and I find myself in tears, sometimes, after singing something I have sung hundreds of times, and finding a new depth, new meaning in the words.
Mine is not that extraordinary a story for a Western convert. Metropolitan Kallistos writes of his conversion in "Toward the Authentic Church". He begins, "I can remember exactly when my personal journey to Orthodoxy began. It happened quite unexpectedly one Saturday afternoon in 1952, when I was seventeen. I was walking along Buckingham Palace Road, close to Victoria Station, when I passed a 19th century Gothic church, large and somewhat dilapidated, that I had never noticed before. There was no proper notice board outside it--public relations has never been a strong point of Orthodoxy in the Western world!--but I recall that there was a brass plate which simply said, 'Russian Church'".
He went inside and found the place dark, empty, cool and quiet. No pews, no chairs in neat rows, "in front of me stretched a wide and vacant expanse of polished floor". Then, as his eyes adjust to the darkness, he sees a smattering of worshipers, oil lamps burning before icons, a choir singing somewhere out of sight, and then the deacon emerged from the iconostasis and began censing the icons and the people.
"My initial impression of an absence was now replaced, with a sudden rush, by an overwhelming sense of presence. I felt that the church, far from being empty, was ful--full of countless unseen worshippers, surrounding me on every side. Intuitively, I realized that we, the visible congregation, were part of a much larger whole, and that as we prayed we were being taken up into an action far greater than ourselves, into an undivided, all-embracing celebration that united time and eternity, things below with things above.
"Years later, with a strange shock of recognition, I cam across the story of St. Vladimir's conversion, recorded in the 'Russian Primary Chronicle'. Returning to Kiev, the Russian envoys told the prince about the Divine Liturgy, which they had attended in Constantinople. 'We did not know whether we were in heaven or on earth', they said. We cannot describe it to you: of this alone are we sure, that God dwells there among men, for we cannot forget that beauty'. I started with amazement as I read those words, for such exactly had been my own experience at the Russian Vigil Service in St. Philip's, Buckingham Road. The outward setting lacked the splendour of tenth century Byzantium, but like St. Vladimir's emissaries, I, too had felt the immediacy of the celestial Liturgy, the closeness of the angels and the saints, the uncreated beauty of God's Kingdom. 'Now the powers of heaven worship with us invisibly' (Liturgy of the Presanctified Gifts)."
From my Roman Catholic perspective, your comments about Orthodoxy in general, and Russian Orthodoxy in particular, are truly moving. The Russians do seem to have developed a robust sense of mysticism which we should acknowledge and learn more about.
In the Russian cultural tradition there may also be a sense of a "divinely mandated" mission that goes under the name of Pan-Slavism. I think it would be of benefit to those inside and outside of that tradition to keep a level head and draw a hard line between what is healthy in Russian mysticism, and what has been mixed with and exaggerated sense of ethnicity. A clear and sober Anglo-Saxon mind is of great benefit here.
Scott Hahn's story would be a good example of this. What you see is a man enchanted or entranced by what he's seen, and then equally enchanted to find how it coheres with what he'd learned already, and then wanting to commend the vision to others in terms they will understand. That's not deconstructing. It's more like celebrating. This you miss.
I don't deny that there are variations all over. There are very forensically oriented Orthodox who love Scripture- and Patristics-laden apologetics, just as there are mystical Roman Catholics (and even a few Protestants here and there). That does not mean one cannot generalize, at least a little. Look, for example, at the Roman Catholic RCIA program, or the Catechism of the Catholic Church, and then look at their Orthodox or Greek Catholic equivalents. The former are, without a doubt, didactic and apologetic in orientation and intent, while the latter are far more personalized, experiential and focused on mystagogy (initiation into the mysteries). From the Orthodox perspective, "catechesis" is mystagogy, whereas what the Latin Church calls "catechesis" is more properly called "padaeia", or religious education.
In the Latin approach, as far as I understand it, the padeia comes first, then the initiation into the mysteries. Under the Orthodox approach, the mystagogy comes first, mainly in the form of prayer, fasting, and participation in certain liturgical rites, including the Divine Liturgy up to the dismissal of the catechumens (we do this in our Greek Catholic parish). The prayers over the catechumens, as well as the Litany of the Catechumens before their dismissal at the beginning of the Liturgy of the Eucharist is a powerful symbol of the process by which the catechumen is integrated into the Body of Christ.
You are, of course, correct--and no one is more aware than I am of the dangers inherent in the kind of Third Rome mysticism that ensnares more than a few Orthodox. But not every Orthodox is Russian, and not even every Russian Orthodox sees Moscow as the Third Rome, and Russia as the closest thing to the Kingdom of God on earth. See some of my posts regarding Solszhenitsyn on that subject.
a.) I find that often when I argue or discuss a topic with someone or make an argument, my views will change. In other words, argument is often an effective way of discovering what one really believes or thinks.
b.) Some times violence will solve a problem. For example, Hitler failed because we acted violently against him and his regime.
There is nothing inferior in the least about the Anglo-Saxon mind.
I only bring up the distinction to cast a litle light on this discussion of a mystical point of view versus a more materialistic worldview.
The difference betwen the two is........that Russia did not experience the Enlightenment the way the western European societies did.
And I believe that Russians are a hybrid culture between East and West.
The lack of an Age of Reason and the Buddhist/Taoist influence of the East makes Russian mysticism what it is.
Catholic mystics like the Desert Fathers are mostly a pre-Enlightenment phenomenon.
But then you do get a Thomas Merton(who was a fan of Zen and Chuang Tzu).
Indeed.
From the other side of the fence, it is strange to realise that many people do not experience awe and joy in the contemplation of profound mysteries.
While it is vain to force such understandings on unsympathetic people, for an apologist to cease writing just because people aren't convinced would be like a musician who gives up music because his records won't sell.
Why should such a person cease to contemplate and pay homage to the truth he loves?
It seems to be a fact of human nature that some people are moved more by ideas than others are.
Before any pietists or worse go jumping all over that while missing the whole concept of grace, Luther said what St. Paul and C.S. Lewis and G.K. Chesterton all said one way or the other . . .
If you don't have the boldness of faith, it isn't the "boldness" you are missing.
least people who think a degree in theology makes them untouchable. Their 'cups'
runneth over. I do not mean to generalize here, but I am specifically referring to
those with an abundance of head knowledge but a lack of wisdom and
understanding enough to make them move, do and act according to their faith.
Again from my first post, "There are none so blind as those who refuse to see",
e.g."why should I seek plenary indulgence when I already received absolution from
Fr. Tom?"
Maybe apologetics may spell the difference but is there enough of you to seek the
lost? And having been found, will they bother to listen and understand?
For example, he also says
“We know truth, not only by the reason, but also by the heart, and it is in this last way that we know first principles; and reason, which has no part in it, tries in vain to impugn them. The sceptics, who have only this for their object, labour to no purpose. We know that we do not dream, and, however impossible it is for us to prove it by reason, this inability demonstrates only the weakness of our reason, but not, as they affirm, the uncertainty of all our knowledge. For the knowledge of first principles, as space, time, motion, number, is as sure as any of those which we get from reasoning. And reason must trust this knowledge of the heart and of instinct, and must base every argument on them. The heart senses [Le cœur sent] that there are three dimensions in space and that the numbers are infinite, and reason then shows that there are no two square numbers one of which is double of the other. Principles are intuited, propositions are inferred, all with certainty, though in different ways.”
To most moderns, the assertion that mathematics is an affair of the heart would seem paradoxical indeed; but Pascal shows an important insight, though in unfamiliar language.
Being able to trust in God and His goodness towards us is what sin destroys - like the prodigal son that refused to see the goodness of his father , until he came home again !
Being given that trust again , after we have gone away from same is grace !
Thus , when one is exhorted to keep refusing the grace with the arrogance that when one decides on one's own , that that grace is going to be turned on - that is trusting in oneself or worse trusting in the empty promises of the agent of rebellion and pride !
Is it such attitudes that led to the rise of a people who took for their emblem the broken cross and the horrors that came with it , from hardening of hearts !
There are also recent incidents in places such as Rwanada - genocide from lingering hatreds and envies that could not be repented off , from the holds of sinning boldly, through witchcraft, immorality ....and a million killed off brutally , when the enemy had enough hearts to set ablaze in hatred !
The Mother was sent to warn - the antidote for hardened hearts ; her invitation - not to sin boldly but to contemplate her sorrows as a Mother ,esp. during the Passion of her Son when she took everything , in the Holy Spirit held heart all the pain that the enemy held hearts threw at her Son and this for sake of her children so that they too would be free - from the holds of hatred of God and His children which alone leads one to sin boldly !
Yet , the so called West has been blessed in being given the grace to ponder on The Passion often enough ..thus , to instill in her people the grace of giving and receiving mercy , like in the case of the poor tax collector in the temple !
When in stead there has been empahsis on attaining the percieved higher status of mysticism without the attendant humilty or mercy , could it have led to alienations of the masses who could have percieved that they were being treated more like the second class hired hands ...centuries of that type of lingering resentments - could that have prevented many from seeing a God of mercy and thus leading to the blaze of the wild fires of atheism /communism !
For the sake of His Sorrowful Passion, have mercy on us and the whole world !
May we thus be freed from all areas of undue pride with its resultant unhealthy divisions and hardeend hearts in order to see that one of best graces is being able to stay in the Household of The Father , in His mercy - a Father who has boundless, never ending riches , to give all that is needed for all returning sons when they turn back , in trust !
That's their peril. Not stoned but smothered in feathers.
Rational argument is a necessary part of apologetics because most people, at one time and another, have rational questions. Hugging them in response would convey the impression that there are no rational answers, even in situations where there ruddy well are.
A Christian should be first to help when help is needed, but point to a source of good apologetics when information is needed.
Tangent: Nothing against Fr. Calciu in particular, but advertisements for the excellent foundation of the mystical Romanian Orthodox faith grind a bit for one who has two Romanian sons, rescued by the Romanian Baptists, who were highly-persecuted, sometimes unto death, with the active assistance of the Orthodox Church there. Nonorthodox believers in a lot of Orthodox countries could say the same - mysticism has proved excellent for getting people through difficult times, but has a poor recording in opposing tyrants. (See also Buddhist, Zoroastrian, Hindu, & Sufi mystics)
We have all known those who have been shown exceptional Christian example by parents, friends, or community and yet reject the faith, finding some other evils in the world that remain unfixed as examples of how terrible we are. We also know those who have had the opportunity of learning the faith intellectually from the best that we have to offer, yet also reject the faith. We should at this juncture, in fact, expect most of those we encounter to reject it. Gone are the days when the conversion of a king or a tribal leader brought everyone into some definition of "Christian," after all. We soldier on, uprooting evil in the fields that we know, etc.
I am pretty non-mystical myself (and yes, I am Anglo-Saxon - though as an aside, the influence of that tribe on British culture is overstated against the Brythonic culture in place), so apologetics figured in my conversion, even though they were not the only force. It was important for my willingness to surrender that I knew people far more intelligent than I (Lewis being prominent) had gotten by the obvious intellectual objections, so that attempting to play that card against God with my current knowledge was an excuse.
This is seen most clearly in the paradox of Christ's humanity and divinity. Removing the 'and' to take a position solely on either side gives us heresy.
Today, we are presented with a foreign idea: "...true conversion is conversion of the heart, not the mind"
The OT "heart" includes, not excludes, the mind. Thus the NT adds 'nous' to convey the totality of the meaning in the lingua franca. Until Christians begin to understand basic biblical terms and aim to keep the 'holy conjunction,' paradox will be lost.
When people are on a quest, they are looking for answers. Be prepared to have them. Now, some people may not realize they are on a quest, or maybe they come to realize they are missing something because of the Christian witness they see before them. But if they reach a dead end, they will look elsewhere. Sometimes the "dead end" is self-imposed, as a seeker feels bound by things that impede the search for truth and what that may entail (loss of community, massive adjustment of outlook, etc.) But for the people who continue to seek, having someone or some many who are willing to provide the answers and the support for the search is invaluable. Makes all the difference, but of course, needs to always go hand-in-hand with the living witness of the Church.
"Basically it is the revolt of Platonism against the Aristotelian mise en scene of traditional Christianity. The issue hangs on the question whether the Divine Fact is something given, or something to be inferred. Your Platonist, satisfied that he has formed his notion of God without the aid of syllogisms or analogies, will divorce reason from religion”
Reason and faith are separate spheres and always will be.
And......."people on a quest want answers?"
"Does god exist?"
Reason them an answer on that.
But later that afternoon, when the next officer arrived, buoyed and joyous over what had happened earlier, Fr. George began to debate him and argue. Fr G says that he immediately felt something false in himself--that he had fallen from that clear moment of proclaiming the truth, into an argument tainted with ego, one that would be futile and unconvincing. It wasn't the moment for that conversation, and he'd gone into it with the wrong motivation.
I don't think he's saying that explaining the faith and defending it is always futile. I think he is talking about the difference between exhibiting the "fire of your faith" (proclaiming "Christ is Risen!") and indulging in ego and intellectual competition. Obviously, sometimes explaining and defending the faith is the right and necessary thing to do. It's just that in that moment he realized a "falseness" within himself, due to pride. It's the danger any intellectual Christian faces, the temptation to strut. Then it's no longer about the Lord, but about ego.
Probably someone else has already said this, but in the East there is an awareness that you cannot talk about or analyze something, and experience it at the same time. Orthodoxy favors experience. The spiritual disciplines and sacraments are all about cultivating direct experience of God. There isn't any concept of "mysticism" as a separate category, because that's all there is.
So there is a sense of the limitations of intellectual categories, the likelihood that they are not, in the end, accurately mapped to reality. Experience of God is the main thing. Humility and repentance take you there. Thus, when Fr George realized that he was falling into prideful, self-powered intellectual bantering with the officer, he felt "false" and saw that he had lost touch with God's presence that he'd experienced earlier. (Forgive the redundancy, pls; I don't have time to make it shorter.)
The esperimentalist feels certain that something has happened to him, and he invites you to let it happen to you — that is, really, the whole of his message. He expects more evident results from the grace of God than we others. He sees what effects religion can have, does sometimes have, in transforming a man's whole life and outlook; these exceptional cases (so we are content to think them) are for him the average standard of religious achievement.
Ronald Knox put it well: "How to explain these phenomena — Camisard child-prophecy, or Jansenist convulsions, or Methodist swoonings, or lrvingite glossolaly — is a question that need not detain us. What is important is that they are all part of a definite type of spirituality, one which cannot be happy unless it is seeing results. “Heart-work,” Wesley called it; the emotions must be stirred to their depths, at frequent intervals, by unaccountable feelings of compunction, joy, peace, and so on, or how could you be certain that the Divine touch was working on your soul??? "



own. The story of Saul's conversion doesn't have the slightest indication that Saul
debated with the Lord or any of the disciples at all. Neither was Saul moved by the saintliness of Stephen whom he just got stoned to death. He was struck blind,
a fitting gesture by the Lord in my view (there are none so blind....) So Saul finally
became Paul because he was rendered powerless and useless for a short time.
So don't worry folks if there are those who remain obstinate despite losing out
on the philosophical discussions or even if they are oblivious to manifestations of
charity by catholics. There is a rendezvous with the "brick wall" sooner than later.