Why Chesterton?

My students often wonder why I have such enthusiasm for Chesterton, a zeal that often outstrips my wonder for more famous writers. The answers are manifold, but here's a shot at putting the whole thing into perspective.

Imagine that Jane Austen (since we've discussed her) was forgotten, almost completely left in the ashes of the past, abandoned by the literary canon. Now imagine that you, being a fan of fine words and British literature, are introduced to this stuff by a friend. Imagine your surprise at learning that one of the greatest writers in English history had been forgotten. It would be a tragedy, would it not?

Now stretch that a bit, a great bit, and put in her place a great, fat, jolly specimen of an Englishman: Chesterton. He wrote far more than Austen did (I've read of his four books, a few dozen essays, a handful of short stories and poems yet I have barely scratched the surface of this mammoth collection) and he was widely known in his day. He was friends with many prominent names, debated almost anyone of any importance who would try him, always winning, and was loved by friend and foe alike. People would travel for miles around just to hear the man speak.

And have you heard that Chesterton's Everlasting Man was one of the reasons C.S. Lewis converted to Christianity, or that he was an influence on Tolkien? Or that dozens of writers from Hemingway to Kafka were admirers as well? Or that his book on Dickens was one of the reasons that author saw his own revival in the early 20th century? Did you know that one of the most influential hagiographers (an academic whose specialty is saints) of the 20th Century, Etienne Gilson, greatly admired his work on St. Thomas Aquinas?

This is Chesterton. His writing is not only beautiful, lyrical at times, but also brilliant. And he has been forgotten in a way that is truly frustrating for his admirers. One of the greatest Canadian writers, Robertson Davies, called Chesterton the most unfairly forgotten writer of the 20th century. But my zeal grows greater because I don't think it's an accident that Chesterton was forgotten. Because he was Catholic.

Tolkien, you might note, was also Catholic yet remains popular. But Chesterton was a warrior (named a Defender of the Faith by the Pope, and a better one then Henery - Henery!), his arguments irrefutable, his worldview vast and inescapable. A postmodernist has great difficulty answering Chesterton, so the postmodernist ignores Chesterton.

In his way, Chesterton was a greater phenomenon than Jane Austen, yet unlike her he is forgotten. So, sometimes I speak with the zeal of the converted because I've only been poking into Chesterton's works for so little time (the past two years only.) But I read him because his writing is beautiful, and his thoughts similarly so.

For a long time now I've been trying to escape the mind-slavery of our time. That's what brought me to the study of history, and to literature. I've also been trying to recover a Catholic imagination, the psychology or perspective that my ancestoprs had when they looked out at the world. And I find that, as I read Chesterton, I not only discover the Catholic imagination. I slowly begin to assume it into who I am.

These aren't the cats you're looking for

Good day all. Thanks to the ineffable Mr. Johnson for managing to compliment me and essentially force me to join his blog all in one masterstroke. Well played!

I am just recently returned from one of what certainly ranks as the high points of my short (much shorter than other posters) life so far. A G.K Chesterton conference. Please, contain yourself. Mountain Dew through the nose is not becoming. I'm serious. In case you missed it, the large fellow to the left is not me, but in fact is Mr. Chesterton himself. He was a prolific author of the early twentieth century; though his material sounds eerily like it was written for us a hundred years later.

This the conference focused on one of Chesterton's masterpieces, Orthodoxy. It will be 100 years old this September. He wrote it as a challenge. He had written a book called "Heretics" outlining many of the incorrect streams of thought that were popular then (and today), and systematically crushed them. Upon reading this book, many critics challenged Chesterton not just to attack others theories, but to submit his own. He gladly accepted the challenge, his theory was Christian Orthodoxy. In it he outlines his own "spiritual journey", he creates a system for himself and discovers it is a pale imitation of the 1900 year old Church.

His style, humour, wit are magnificent additions to his profound and deep message about humanity, about civilization, about Christianity. A great primer on Chesterton is "Common Sense 101" by Dale Alquist, president of the American Chesterton Society. It is available here.
At the conference, we were treated to a chapter by chapter ride through Orthodoxy by speakers from around the world. Here is a sample section from the book.

Modern masters of science are much impressed with the need of beginning all inquiry with a fact. The ancient masters of religion were quite equally impressed with that necessity. They began with the fact of sin—a fact as practical as potatoes. Whether or no man could be washed in miraculous waters, there was no doubt at any rate that he wanted washing. But certain religious leaders in London, not mere materialists, have begun in our day not to deny the highly disputable water, but to deny the indisputable dirt. Certain new theologians dispute original sin, which is the only part of Christian theology which can really be proved. Some followers of the Reverend R. J. Campbell, in their almost too fastidious spirituality, admit divine sinlessness, which they cannot see even in their dreams. But they essentially deny human sin, which they can see in the street.

The strongest saints and the strongest sceptics alike took positive evil as the starting-point of their argument. If it be true (as it certainly is) that a man can feel exquisite happiness in skinning a cat, then the religious philosopher can only draw one of two deductions. He must either deny the existence of God, as all atheists do; or he must deny the present union between God and man, as all Christians do. The new theologians seem to think it a highly rationalistic solution to deny the cat.

Regarding Certain Cutting Remarks

Ok, they weren't cutting, not at all; but I couldn't resist the pun. A reader commented on our local "educational" show, Body Worlds, and asked why our local bishops have been against it. On the other side of it, I was actually surprised that they didn't speak more strongly. So, a few things:

First: the charge that the Church was against autopsies for medical purposes during the Middle Ages. That bit of pop-history is false (as is the idea that medieval people believed the Earth was flat. They actually had a good idea of its circumference.) Medieval men were not stupid, not any more stupid than their modern counterparts at any rate (and often less so.) For more on that you'd have to study, but here's a reasonable article by peer-reviewed academics. It gives a fair representation of how the period is understood by those who study it for a living (the whole piece is good, but check the part regarding the Dark Ages.) The article is here. But if this is common knowledge for academics, why would there be such a disconnect between academia and common history? My notions on that aren't at all kind, so never mind. (Oh fine, here it is: I think it suits most people to think poorly of their ancestors. If the people of yesterday were stupid neanderthals, we can forge bravely ahead into madness, right? It's more convenient to discount the past than to actually engage it.)

As for the Bishops of Edmonton (Latin and Ukrainian rite) and their document. If you actually read it, you find that the Bishops aren't against science at all; they are simply for humanity. So let's take stock for a moment. Here we have an exhibit of human bodies in various poses with all sorts of folks paying to come and take a look. They (the human beings, the people on display) gave their bodies to science, presumably for medical research, the training of doctors, etc. But that isn't what's going on. Instead we get something that really harkens back to a day when insensitivity reigned and people really were a bit nastier than today. What we have, ladies an gentlemen, children of all ages, is an honest to goodness Freakshow, complete with admission payments and snacks and giggling children.

Now, if there were something you could accomplish with plastinated corpses that you couldn't do as well with plastic models, I'd agree with the whole thing. But is this medically necessary? Is there any research going on? These were people once, with families, with dreams, and they died. A measure of a people is how we honour our dead and this is a contemptible treatment of humanity without any of the necessity of research or medical training, or organ donation for that matter. These aren't Med students filing through, gawking at the flayed corpses; it's regular folk come for a glimpse. It isn't a matter of rushing a heart to a transplant recipient. If I ever give my organs to some anonymous person, I hope he doesn't inflate my bladder and use it like a ball to amuse his children.

That would be medieval.

Guest Blogger!

Don't be surprised if you come across the occasional post by a good friend of mine, Mr. Corrigan. Some of you have met the man (and fortunate you were.) The past fifteen years for me have been filled with talking with this man, both in laughter and in argument. It's become almost habit with me to want to flesh out ideas with him; those who know us well find our pack mentality in debate annoying. But, to quote Mr. Miyagi, "If done right, no can defense."

What I'm saying is that this is a friend so dear to me that any thought without his stamp seems only half complete to me. And so he has graciously accepted my invitation to throw his own thoughts in here from time to time.

Punchlines and Angry German Philosophers

So, how was Nietzsche the father of the Nazi movement and not Christianity? I'll be adding to this post (it's exam season) but let me start you with an article by a man I admire, Peter Kreeft (any Kreeft book on the philosophers or the Church is worth reading.)

So, I'm cheating. But it's Kreeft. Enjoy.

Finally, an addition.

So Nietzsche is a bit hard to pin down, but here are a few things you can highlight. As Kreeft says, these come from simply taking Nietzsche at his word. And if this does not satisfy as a mode of analysis (and often it will not do) then we must remind ourselves that the Nazis certainly seemed to take him at his word. Sort of a Nietzschean Fundamentalism (though I think any attempt to live Nietzsche's philosophy is mad.)

So, some highlights:

1) Nietzsche's assumption is that there is no God, the Universe has no ontological (meaning built-in) meaning.
2) Nietzsche believed that there is strength and weakness (much akin to Hemingway's expression of existentialism, actually. But Hemingway drank instead of trying to take over Europe. He was a freedom fighter, not a monster.) This belief in only strength and weakness led Nietzschea few places.
3) Since there is no good, no God, there is only the force of human will. Will and strength are one.
4) There are moral systems that praise strength and moral systems that praise weakness. Master Morality vs Slave Morality. And slave morality, which glorifies weakness and gives it names like "mercy" saps the strength out of men. In Nietzsche's mind, these systems (including Judaism and Christianity alike) are abominations.
5) A Master Morality is necessary to foster strength and usher in the age of the Superman (can you say ubermensch?)

Now, the Nazis ate this stuff up and tried to put it into practise as well as they could. That is why certain terms show up in Nazi lingo: Ubermensch (Supermen), Master Race, Slave Race. That's why eradicating the Jews was more than just a scapegoat thing; the Nazis thought the world would be better off without them. And that is also why, among the saints and martyrs, there are those Catholics (and other Christians of course) who died at the hands of the Nazis specifically because they were Christians.

Nietzsche, Jesus, and Hitler walk into a bar...

Or: Dawkins, Christianity, and the Nazis. Who belongs to whom?

So, in his efforts to show how religion is really a nasty business (particularly Christianity) Dawkins points out that Hitler was born Roman Catholic, and claims that Nazism is really just a natural offshoot of Christianity. He isn't alone in doing this; uber-atheist Christopher Hitchens does the same.

Why?

Christians get unhappy with being accused of atrocities and having all the world's ills blamed on the their religion (though it isn't the first time they've been accused of being enemies of humanity, the irony of which is hopefully not lost on my readers.) Some Christians point out that we get to see two fairly important atheist regimes at work in the twentieth century, the Nazis and Soviets. Between the two millions were killed, and while this hardly goes to prove that atheists are nasty monsters (the opposite is usually true) it does show that atheists are capable of terrible things.

And that does not satisfy the militant atheist. He is not satisfied with an arguable human equality; he wants his system to be morally superor to his religious counterpart. So, it becomes important to make the counter-claim, palying hot-potato with those nasty Nazis and asserted that they are (keep a straight face) Christian.

The accusation would be laughable if it weren't so terrible. Here these atheists are claiming that Christianity is responsible for the Nazis and the Holocaust when the historical record is that Christians were suffering alongside the Jews, albeit in fewer numbers. No historian in any serious, accredited University, is ever going to claim this. Yet Dawkins and Hitchens do.

So, let's take a look. And bear in mind, it's getting close to final exams so I'm going to lean on other sources a bit. But some of them are pretty fascinating:

Here are pdf reproductions of Nuremburg documents covering the Nazi attack on Christianity and the attempt to replace it with a nationalist, Aryan religion.

Here is an interview with a Vatican official (a Jesuit priest) working on the committee for the canonization of Pope Pius XII. It represents historically demonstrable truth. Of particular interest was the very unusual decision to write an encyclical in German and smuggle it into Germany to be read in Catholic churches across the country.

In the New York Times' editorial of December 25, 1941 we read:

"The voice of Plus Xll is a lonely voice in the silence and darkness enveloping Europe this Christmas... he is about the only ruler left on the Continent of Europe who dares to raise his voice at all... the Pope put himself squarely against Hitlerism... he left no doubt that the Nazi aims are also irreconcilable with his own conception of a Christian peace."

And, because too many think the Church just went along with Hitler, and that the Pope was in his pocket, consider this.

I find it frustrating in the extreme (and by that I mean I get over run by rage) when I think of what history shows, and how history is then hijacked by people with their own philosophical agendas, all the while ignoring the immense pain that people in Europe were suffering back then. No one blamed the Church then, the Jews themselves declared Pope Pius XII a righteous man in his day. Who the hell are these people who think they can blame these monstrous acts on those who in some measure shared in a victimhood that is appalling? Certainly no one suffered as the Jews did, but Hitler was ruthless to anyone who opposed him.

So, whatever Nazism was, it didn't come from Christianity. So, where did it come from? That comes tomorrow, with the punchline...

Dawkins and Philosophy

Alternate Title: Big Bang Bites Man!

Okay, so let me state something for the record. What I'm about to offer is not meant to be a compelling proof of God's existence. My answer is not evidence but faith which, contrary to the opinion of some, is not akin to fairy tales (unless you think your mother's love is akin to fairy tales - hopefully not the ogre-ish kind.) It is meant to be a response to the atheist assumption that belief in God is not rational. By the end of this post, my hope is that you can at least sit back and say "I get it" and see that there is validity to the theistic proposition that matter/energy/spact/time isn't all there is.

So.

One of my problems with Dawkins is that he ignores the philosophical dimension of Christianity and attacks the very ugly caricature of a religion that he's created. For example, he ignores the necessary questions raised by Big Bang theory, such as: "What caused it?" The question of first causes has been around for hundreds of years. Basically the idea is this: The universe contains and is everything physical. It is made of matter and energy in all their forms existing in a matrix (that just means spatial context) of space and time. Before the Big Bang (and I use the word "before" metaphorically here, since there was no "before" due to time not existing, time being a physical substance) there was nothing. Then there was something. What was the cause of that first explosion of light and energy?

Yes, yes, some posit that there has simply been an infinite number of explosions, universal expansions, and eventual contractions. Two rseponses: First, that only pushes back the question, where did all this matter come from? Nothing comes from nothing, so where is all this from? Second, recent evidence is that the universe is accelerating in its expansion, not slowing down as it should. A question: Where is the "energy" coming from to cause space to expand at an ever increasing rate? Who's driving this crazy thing?

Are there several answers? Certainly. Are they logical? They may well be. But my point here is that the universe needs a cause, something which itself is non-physical and does not require that matrix of space and time to exist. If we compared the whole physical universe, with all its matter/energy/space/time to a globe of water, we would need a First Cause that was able to exist outside that globe of water. Again, "outside" here is used metaphorically. The theist's answer is that, if we move down the checklist, we see some familiar things. So we need something that would Cause or Create (check.) This thing needs to be non-physical in nature (dare we use the word- spiritual? check, check.) As a non-physical reality this Thing therefore is without measure both physically and in time, since it is outside of that bubble of the Universe (and here, we can use the word, infinite- check, check, check.) This is the theist's God.

I know, I know, there is nothing in this exploration that requires the Christian God. No, it doesn't and you could believe this theory and attach all sorts of religions to it. That's fine, and Deism is a god example of where you could go. The point, again, is to show that the theistic proposition is a rational one, not the lump of superstitions presented by Dawkins. You may disagree with the theory, but you should at least allow that it is reasonable. Oh, and there are good articles on the history of the Big Bang theory (I get a kick out of that one) and St. Thomas Aquinas and Big Bang Theory.

For the record, let's call this Proposition A.

A Word: Empirical!

Very briefly, we would be fools to limit ourselves to empirical evidence alone. It is certainly compelling, but faith in the empirical is not the primary foundation of argument. The first assumption in most rational argument is that things exist. Consider for a moment: Do you hav direct evidence that the physical exists? Really? All our data is second hand, analog rather than digital if you will, passed on through the senses. I can see that this thing exists, you cry! Really? And how are you sure that your physical senses exist? If you try to empirically prove the existence of your own senses you will be engaged in a circular argument: "I know my senses exist because my senses inform me of their presence." Sorry, not good enough.

That's why the existentialists have a point: I can only be absolutely certain of the existence of my own mind (That's what Cogito ergo sum means: I think therefore I am.) Everything else beyond my own bare existence is uncertain. You can't prove your physicality since the only thing you directly experience are your own thoughts; your senses could be imagined. And that's something we can't disprove. So much for empiricism, since it can't fight us out of this particular wet paper bag.

And it is a wet paper bag if we're willing to turn to something that offers proofs which are non-physical: logic. Sartre tells me that I can only know my own thoughts? Fine. Logic then can do the work that empiricism can't.

For example, I can use logic to point out that my five senses seem to exist because they all have a different basis (apparently) yet they all give the same data. Things that look round also feel round. Of course, the existentialist will point out that these could also be imagined. Very well. But Hume, God bless his Scottish soul, provided some limitations to existentialism. If all that exists is the mind, then where did it come up with the idea of a tree, or a rock, or notions of trigonometry? How would it come up with a frame of reference without that any of these things exist? It is, if you ever study philosophy, a compelling point.

But the mind can also accomplish this, which is the Catholic answer. You say I cannot "know" anything with what you call "certainty?" That's fine. There are any number of things we believe that can neither be proven nor disproven because they can't be directly measured, weighed, put under the microscope. Things like love, God, freedom, mercy, goodness, evil, the human will. Yet we have faith in these things, so it doesn't bother us if we add the whole of physical existence to the mix. Faith, after all, is an act of will, choosing to trust that a thing like love or God's salvation exists. We trust God that He is there. So I trust my senses as I trust my wife's love, two things I depend on, neither of which I can prove empirically.

So, frankly, philosophy is more useful than science and empiricism rests on a philosophical assumption and not on hard facts.

If we argue God's existence, then, let's rely on rational argument and not a flawed and doomed addiction to physical proof (this, by the way, is the error of both Dawkins AND the Intelligent Design crew that try to prove God through science.)

Why Study History?

The past two posts have been a bit of a reminder for me of how much I enjoy the study of history. It is, I think, undervalued - maybe because there aren't enough "concrete" benefits to for a utilitarian culture. But I think it's essential, and here's why:

History doesn't just help give you perspective on why the world is the way it is (though it can do that.) History is about freedom and identity, freedom from the slavery of imagining only one worldview and the ability to develop an identity which spans the centuries rather than relying on name brand logos.

Study history; pick your period. Read it, study it, imagine it and you'll find, in time, that the people in those hazy times start to come into focus. They become more human, motivated like humans, sharing in our basic blend of dreams and hopes, fear and suffering, bravery and weakness. You'll be delighted with some of the ways they responded to challenge, uplifted by the fact that it isn't simply the 21st century version of Homo sapiens that has the capacity for creativity. In short, you will find yourself sympathizing with these people. In time you may come to love them.

And: If you can bring yourself to to love another age for its people, its dress, and its customs you are finally free. You can at last turn your eyes back on your own time and judge it with some clarity. You'll still be in your time - nothing can turn the clock back- but you will be a little less beholden to it, its claws won't be so deep in you.

That leaves you free to keep the good and reject the bad, since every age will have both. It is also, ladies and gentlemen, a way to achieve a real non-conformism that so many youth seem to yearn for.

And as for identity, just imagine your own memory for a moment. Your memory is so integral to your being that your very self-identity would collapse without it. How can I have a sense of myself if I've forgotten everything? Imagine it for a moment, looking out on the world and recognizing nothing. Imagine having lived a life but not recalling any single choice you've ever made. How do you know anything at all?

Ignorance of history is like amnesia on a vast scale. How are we in the West supposed to have a good sense of what the "West" even means if we've forgotten everything? There have been attempts at inventing a history, but these are coloured by a desire to justify the present. So, most of our stereotypes of the past, of the middle ages for example, are negative. All we see are brutes mucking about in a dark age that was only illuminated by the light of science and secularism.

What that means though, in some ways, is that you're being asked to assume the worst of your ancestors. Studying history is a reconnection with those ancestors, like renewing a relationship with your beloved grandparents. Because the history of our civilization is not just necessary to the broader culture, but as an act of renewal and self-discovery for the individual.

Which brings me back to the Church. If you are of European ancestry your history is Catholic. Your ancestors celebrated the sacraments in stone churches under starry skies. Your blood is full of the assumptions bred into you by a hundred generations of Catholic thought: the sanctity of life, the equality of man, free will, the beauty of the individual. A rigorous and imaginative study of history will bear this out.

Another Horror in History

Ok, a very brief post this time. The other big rock that gets thrown at Catholics in particular is the Inquisition (and yes, I restrain myself, since you should have all expected - this time at least - the Spanish Inquisition.) The mythology that has emerged around this thing is amazing, including the happy neo-pagans and their claims that millions of women were killed during the "Burning Times." Well, the Burning Times never happened, and the Spanish Inquisition didn't kill tens of thousands of innocents. The truth is much more complex, much more human, and far less sinister than the Church's critics would like to believe. Forunately, the Spanish Inquisition was made up of trained legal minds who left reams and reams of archival evidence of their machinations. And it ends up looking less than conpiratorial.

Here are two good articles on the subject. Yes, people died in this time. Yes, that is terrible. But the scale of the thing leaves one feeling that perhaps the source of so much outcry should feel more evil.

Read here and here for a pretty good idea of how current historians view the whole thing. It's too bad that contemporary academic work tends to take so long to filter down to the masses, or we might be able to hope for a break from the pseudo-history.

Dawkins and the Horrors or Religion

One of the things that Dawkins and the new atheists like to do is point out the terrible things that religion has done over the ages. They pull together enough examples to leave their audience stupefied and conclude, rather wildly, that religion must be therefore evil. Or, at least, the world would be better off without it. All of it.

There are a lot of problems with this, both historical and logical. The logical problem is this: do religious communities perform atrocities because they are religious, or because they're made up of humans. Again I wonder if Dawkins has used that handy old scientific method to isolate his variables. For example, do we see less aggression, greed, etc from atheists than we do from normal people? I'd certainly never argue that atheists can't be good people; I think they can be. But are we suddenly going to take the dizzying leap into saying that atheists tend to be better people, more generous, forgiving, etc? Shouldn't we have a problem with atheists even using the word "better" and thereby imposing their morals on us? That's what they accuse me of doing. Isn't that at least a little bit ironic?

Historically, the case is even better. The trouble here is that neither Dawkins nor his ilk seems to have read any recent, peer-reviewed literature on some of the pop-history they're parading around. (And yes, for the record, I have - history is my background. No pun intended.) Here are two big examples, since Christianity is often picked on in these debates, being the dominant faith in the West.

We'll deal with one thing at a time, since they're worth talking about in their own right. Others will get their own posts. First up:

1) The Crusades! Look at that, shout the new atheists, "Holy wars! Holy wars!!!" Much is made of this one, but it's a canard. And, honestly, the objective version is much more interesting. So:

The Pop-History Version: Those nasty Europeans, goaded by that nasty pope, launched a war against those poor people in the Holy Land. I hardly have to go into it; all the stereotypes speak for themselves. And, admittedly, atrocities occurred on both sides in this war as in any war. The attacks on Jews, for example, or the sack of Constantinople. But consider-

The Historical History: Europe at the time of the Crusades was hardly a super power. In fact, Islam was far more powerful and culturally advanced than Europe. Europe was the underdog and, more importantly, Christianity was the underdog that had been beaten back by the conquering Muslims for the first 400 years after Mohammed. In the first hundred years of Islam's life a full half of Christian lands fell to their armies. After the dominance of the Romans, this was an impressive feat.

But they also continued from their, pushing across North Africa into Spain and Sicily, taking much of Asia Minor (Turkey.) The Byzantine emperors fought as well as they could, with some success, but then the nomadic Seljuks arrived from the steppes, converted to Islam, and layed waste to the Bysantine Empire. In desperation the Emperor called on the Western Pope for aid and he was answered.

The old idea was that knights went for the purpose of gaining land, but current scholarship has knocked that theory on the head. Many who went were already wealthy and funded both themselves and their retinues. It was an extremelt costly endeavour and a knight would have to provide his own supplies, requiring as much as a year worth of income. Modern historians are discovering that crusaders generally believed in what they were doing, which was pushing back an oppressor that had been hounding them for centuries.

In that sense, the Crusades were a series of defensive wars fought to stem the attacks on Constantinople and to take back some of what had been lost, especially Jerusalem. In the end they were a failed defense, though they were able to accomplish wonders with the small number of men who actually made it, and considering how rarely they were given reinforcements. But it was a wash, and the world of Islam remained undiminished.

For a Christian Europe that wanted to remain Christian this was unfortunate. Islam continued pressing on its borders, taking lands in Eastern Europe and holding Spain until almost 1500. In 1453 the Muslims took Constantinople (renaming it Istanbul of all things, which was just a bastardization/mispronunciation of the Greek word for "The City") and continued pressing in on Europe. As late as 1683 the Ottoman Turks threatened Vienna itself, though they failed in that at least.

In the end it was only the discovery of the New World and the wealth that came with it that allowed Europe to build the ships and the armies it would take to defeat Islam. Much later it was the Europeans who were colonizing. But that was much later. If we examine the Crusades we see a very different picture than mere imperialism. Europe was too weak and divided to be imperial in its ambitions, and imposing an 18th Century vision of Europe onto the 11th Century hardly seems fair. Colonialism hadn't even been invented yet!

Now, every culture has a right to exist. European culture also has that right. The Crusades were a matter of a civilization struggling and failing to defend itself from an outside threat. Christianity was certainly involved, since the words Europe and Christian were (at the time) more or less synonymous.

Summation? Here's one historical nugget that often gets cited as a proof of how brutal religion is at its core. And yet these wars were justifiable, far more so than some of the recent conflicts we've seen in the name of democracy.

Dawkins and the Scientific Method

A brief word on Dawkins and the scientific method: First, I do respect this man's capabilities as a scientist. The man is Oxford trained and is vastly influential in genetic and evolutionary biology. However, when he departs from science into the realm of religious debate he seems to forget the very objectivity and consideration that make the scientific method work.

I responded to someone in a comment box that I thought Dawkins was deficient in his consideration of the other side of the God question. He has not read Thomas Aquinas, for example, or any of the other philosophical heavy-weights (Aquinas really was a heavy-weight) supporting a theistic world-view. His response is that he doesn't have to, that the opposing view is so ridiculous that it doesn't bear examination. One response of his was to point out that we hardly need to read the works of leprechaunologists in order to dismiss a belief in leprechauns.

I disagree.

Or, I should say, I would agree that Dawkins doesn't need to study "leprechaunology" unless the majority of humanity for the vast majority of human existence believed in leprechauns. I would have to disagree with Dawkins and insist that we look more closely if the belief in leprechauns had become the basis of various moral systems and legal codes. I would disagree if millions alive today claimed that faith in leprechauns had changed their lives for the better, or if belief in leprechauns had become inspiration for much of the world's best art.

If all of these things were true, that the belief in leprechauns was widespread and deeply important to people, I might still simply dismiss it like the old atheists would, content in my personal freedom from the wee folk. But Dawkins doesn't do that; the new atheist isn's satisified with his own personal state. The new atheist needs to prove it to others. And if I, like Dawkins, were trying to prove that leprechauns didn't exist, and that belief in leprechauns was foolish, it would be incumbent on me to at least look at the real beliefs of these faerie-worshippers in order to properly engage them. And further, if I then claimed that belief in leprehcauns was a major cause of war and suffering, if I claimed that teaching children about leprechauns amounted to child-abuse then I might have a responsibility to respond to the objections of my detractors.

This sort of glib leprechaun statement is such a dodge. That sort of belief, in fairies, is so harmless and risible that it doesn't rate a real debate. But then, you wouldn't write books about the "Leprechaun Delusion" if it weren't worthy of debate, would you? So treating the whole theistic mindset, whether Christian or Jew or otherwise, as if it equates with childhood fantasy, is not a sincere attempt at engaging in a debate. And Dawkins has engaged these systems in debate, so the question still remains: how does he respond to Aquinas or the many others who have presented reasonable cases for the belief in God?

Dawkins is primarily a scientist. He's the one who went out on a limb and proposed his theory that runs counter to the Christian theory. But he attempts to do so without seriously examining the Christian body of work on the matter, without inquiring about our intellectual methods (and they do exist.)

If nothing else, it is Dawkins' stature as a heavy-weight scientist that places him in a situation where we have to criticize his objectivity. He's so personally certain of this thing that he refuses to look into it, not even to further the debate, equating all those who oppose him as participating in a childish delusion. And it's that personal certainty that's the problem; it's not at all scientific.

This all in itself doesn't constitute an argument, nor does it touch on the substance of what theistic philosophers would argue if Dawkins were to read them. It is simply an opener to suggest the possibility of a gap in Dawkins thinking.