On the limits of apologetics.

BY: Henry Matthew Alt • June 30, 2019 • Apologetics; On Other Blogs

apologetics
Image via Pix­abay
I

have sus­pect­ed for over ten years now that I have Asperg­er syn­drome, but I have nev­er sought a diag­no­sis that would tell me for sure; and this reluc­tance has caused a few diag­no­sis apol­o­gists I know to try to argue me into it. They will run down all the ratio­nal argu­ments and bring to the con­ver­sa­tion the mighty weight of a whole list of ben­e­fits that come with a diag­no­sis.

But what said diag­no­sis apol­o­gists nev­er once seem (to me) to con­sid­er is how the whole thing makes me feel. If they con­sid­er it, they don’t con­vey it. I thus say to myself: “They don’t care that I’m scared.” I’m scared of being defined, and lim­it­ed, and stereo­typed, in my very per­son­hood, by the word “autism.”

I will tell them, and truth­ful­ly, every time, that if they would just not bring it up, even­tu­al­ly, I start to con­sid­er it. But then, every time, some­one goes into apolo­get­ics mode again and that caus­es me to resist again. And once again, I have to restart the whole process. If I am just left alone about it, there will come a day when I make my peace with it. And then I’ll see a doc­tor.

Here’s the fun­ny thing: When I tell them this, every time, their response has been to keep argu­ing, to stay in apolo­get­ics mode. It is as though they think I must be argued into it; they entire­ly dis­miss the pos­si­bil­i­ty that if they let me alone to come to my own peace with it, even­tu­al­ly I will seek a diag­no­sis any­way.

And what the whole thing tells me is: Your feel­ings and your fears don’t mat­ter. What mat­ters are my own argu­ments.

•••

I bring this up because of a recent post at Steel Mag­ni­fi­cat in which Mary Pez­zu­lo writes:

Once Dave Arm­strong appeared on my blog’s face­book page to accuse me of “writ­ing a hit piece on apolo­get­ics” because I had writ­ten a piece explain­ing that no amount of log­i­cal rea­son­ing kept me in the Catholic Church when I had doubts; only find­ing some­one who cared about me in the Church did that, and there­fore I found the busi­ness of apolo­get­ics strange. Com­pas­sion, not squab­bling or Socrat­ic dis­cus­sion, wins hearts.

Hen­ry Karl­son like­wise writes:

Not only is [the apolo­get­ics focus] a sim­plis­tic solu­tion to the cri­sis [in the Church], it presents a poor under­stand­ing of the faith itself. It pre­sup­pos­es that faith is sole­ly about what one under­stands about doc­trine; this sug­gests that those who have the most edu­ca­tion will be those who have the most faith. If some­one has a prob­lem, the solu­tion is to study and they will find out the prob­lem is mean­ing­less. If you don’t know where to turn, lis­ten to the best apol­o­gists, to those most skilled in debates, and accept what you hear.

Nat­u­ral­ly, Dave is up in Arm­strong about all this, and is com­plain­ing on his Face­book page about the attack on apolo­get­ics and, seem­ing­ly, view­ing it as an attack on him­self, Dave Arm­strong. For that’s an attack on his liveli­hood!

Now, I do Catholic apolo­get­ics myself, and I love read­ing Catholic apolo­get­ics, and Catholic apolo­get­ics helped to bring me into the Church. So I am not at all averse to a pre­sen­ta­tion of ratio­nal rea­sons for a posi­tion. When I was a kid, my moth­er used to defuse argu­ments by telling me that I should become a lawyer because I love to argue.

But argu­ment worked with me when I was in the process of con­vert­ing to Catholi­cism because an argu­ment in favor of the faith was what I was look­ing for. I had already opened my mind, and more impor­tant­ly my heart, to argu­ments for the faith.

To stub­born­ly insist on an apolo­get­ics approach when that approach is not work­ing is not only coun­ter­pro­duc­tive, but it may actu­al­ly dri­ve a per­son away from ever embrac­ing the faith. So once, when a diag­no­sis apol­o­gist had gone on for too long, I replied (with much frus­tra­tion): “I’m nev­er going to do it! Just shoot me!”

•••

I can remem­ber a debate about nat­ur­al law argu­ments against homo­sex­u­al acts, a few years ago. Mindy Selmys had writ­ten a blog arti­cle that some mis­in­ter­pret­ed as a claim that nat­ur­al law argu­ments are false. As I recall, Mindy clar­i­fied that she did not believe such argu­ments are false, only that they are inef­fec­tive in win­ning the hearts of LGBT peo­ple who reject the Church.

But some peo­ple kept insist­ing on using them, claim­ing: “They worked with me!” or “they worked with my cous­in’s sis­ter’s boyfriend’s uncle’s broth­er’s daugh­ter.” Which might very well be true, but says noth­ing about whether they will work with some­one else who’s resist­ing them. Why not try a dif­fer­ent approach? Why not come up with some dif­fer­ent rea­sons?

Or why not, as my friend Mary writes, sim­ply love a per­son? I know an athe­ist on Face­book who, though still an athe­ist, has grown far less prej­u­di­cial about Chris­tians sim­ply due to the wit­ness of Chris­tians she met who were not hyp­ocrites and who were kind to her. So far, love has worked far more than argu­ing with her.

Or why not, as my friend Hen­ry writes, reform the Church and stop argu­ing about the truth of its doc­trines for a moment? If some­one is feel­ing betrayed by the Church, telling them that Pur­ga­to­ry is true is worse than irrel­e­vant. They’re look­ing for a Church that has the integri­ty to reform when it fails, not for a Church that has all the right answers for why its teach­ings are true.

By insist­ing on apolo­get­ics, you are insist­ing on answer­ing a prob­lem some­one may not have. In the same way that I just want assur­ance that my fears mat­ter, and the space to make peace with autism (if indeed I have autism), some­one else may want assur­ance that Chris­tians are not hyp­ocrites; or that they won’t be hat­ed because they are poor, or female, or gay. Pre­sent­ing a list of rea­sons the Church does not hate gay peo­ple is not a sub­sti­tute for mak­ing a gay per­son feel loved and need­ed.

Apolo­get­ics may sat­is­fy the mind, but nev­er the heart and nev­er the soul. And often it’s the heart and the soul that need con­vinc­ing.

 


Discover more from To Give a Defense

Sub­scribe to get the lat­est posts sent to your email.