For the one who was born as Son, and led to slaughter as a lamb, and sacrificed as a sheep, and buried as a man, rose up from the dead as God, since he is by nature both God and man.  He is everything: In that he judges he is law, in that he teaches he is gospel, in that he saves he is grace, in that he begets he is Father, in that he is begotten he is Son, in that he suffers he is sheep, in that he is buried he is man, in that he comes to life again he is God.  Such is Jesus Christ, to whom be the glory forever.  ....

Therefore, come, all families of men, you who have been befouled with sins, and receive forgiveness for your sins.  I am your forgiveness, I am the passover of your salvation, I am the lamb which was sacrificed for you, I am your ransom, I am your light, I am your saviour, I am your resurrection, I am your king, I am leading you up to the heights of heaven, I will show you the eternal Father, I will raise you up by my right hand ....

This is the Christ.  This is the king.  This is Jesus.  This is the general.  This is the Lord.  This is the one who rose up from the dead.  This is the one who sits at the right hand of the Father.  He bears the Father and is borne by the Father, to whom be the glory and the power forever.  Amen.

-- Melito of Sardis, c. 160-170 A.D.

Query:

My Hindu friend claims that the Bible endorses slavery.  I don’t buy this for a second, but since you’ve written on the subject of the Old Testament Law, the New Testament Law, and the natural law, I would like your thoughts.

Reply:

Fortunately, since you and your Hindu friend are able to have frank conversations, you can ask him about the status of untouchables in the Hindu caste system.  I would highly recommend doing so.

But in the meantime:

An old, old theme in both biblical theology and the natural law tradition is that although we should always do what we can against evils, sometimes earthly laws cannot entirely forbid them, lest imperfect men “break out into yet greater evils.”  In such cases, we must look for ways to limit and to mitigate them – and if possible, gradually eradicate them -- bearing in mind the condition of the people for whom we are legislating.

For example:  The New Testament forbids divorce, but the Law of Moses didn’t.  Then was the Law of Moses wrong?  No, Christ explains that it permitted divorce “because of the hardness of your hearts.”  In other words, it wasn’t approved, but tolerated.  Elucidating this passage, the Patristic writers said that if those ancient men hadn’t been allowed to divorce their wives, they would have killed them.  In the meantime, even in the Old Testament, through the prophet Malachi, God says “I hate divorce.”

Again:  The New Testament forbids private retribution, but the Law of Moses says “An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.”  Then was the Law of Moses wrong?  No, because but Torah wasn’t commanding private retribution, but limiting it.  If no limit had been imposed, then angry people would have taken a life for an eye, and an eye for a tooth.  Moreover, even in the Old Testament, God praises mercy as highly as justice.

Now for to your friend’s question:  The same pattern that we have just seen applies to bondservice as well.  The New Testament makes clear that “in Christ there is neither slave nor free,” but even the Law of Moses, which permitted bondservice, limited it in numerous ways, for instance by requiring that bondservants be set free every seventh year.  So bondservice was neither commended nor endorsed, but confined within limits.

Christians view the Old and New Testament as a whole, understanding the Old through the lens of the New.  Leaving aside fixed moral precepts such as “Thou shalt not murder” and “Thou shalt not commit adultery,” the Old Testament civil ordinances were not God’s final expression of His will.  They were provisional rules, meant to give the people their first lessons in holiness and to prepare them for the Gospel, which actually provides the grace to become holy as the rules command.  This is why St. Paul compares Torah to what the Greeks called the paidagogos or boy-leader, the household servant who guards and conducts the children on their way to the Teacher.

NEW PODCASTS AND INTERVIEWS ABOUT MY NEW BOOK, PANDEMIC OF LUNACY:

“Anchoring Truths” podcast with Garrett Snedeker, produced by Hadley Arkes’ James Wilson Institute.

Three-part interview with me by Terrell Clemmons in Science and Culture:

Part 3, The Flocking of Crowds: The Secular University and Unstable Mass Conformism

Part 2, Motivated Irrationality: Why Even Smart People Swallow Crackpot Ideas

Part 1, Back from the Wasteland: J. Budziszewski on His Intellectual and Spiritual Journey

New interview podcasts and book reviews are right underneath today’s post – just scroll down to the bottom.

Query:

I teach in a Catholic high school.  Among the courses I teach is one for first-year students on the Socratic questionn.  Another teacher, who is more experienced, teacher has advised me to introduce students to the idea of nihilism, and I’d like to know what you think.

I see his logic.  Our culture has become largely nihilistic, and it's better for students to confront the idea in an intellectually rigorous Christian environment than to encounter it for the first time "in the wild," where it may well knock them off their feet.  He's particularly insistent on including Nietzsche. 

On the other hand, you’ve written that being introduced to Nietzsche at a young age was harmful to you.  I definitely had not heard of him at fourteen.  Even at sixteen or seventeen, the question of suffering was just beginning to dawn on me in a serious way, and I could take it only in small doses; I don't know what I would've done with nihilism at that age

How deeply do you think I shoud explore this topic with high school freshmen?  The Nietzschean option -- rejecting the Socratic question outright—is one that some of them are already thinking about without even knowing the man's name.  However, I want to make sure I handle this in a way that sets them up for happiness rather than disillusionment.

Reply:

Such a good question!  How do we make students become aware of the seduction of nihilism, without allowing them to fall prey to it?

My first thought is not to treat nihilism as a philosophy, because it isn’t one.  A philosophy is rational and coherent, or at least tries to be.  Nihilism is incoherent, or self-undermining.  The very statement that nothing has meaning undermines itself, because anyone who says this supposes that his own statement has meaning.  Students are all too easily intoxicated by that sort of nonsense.  “Wow, man!”

So rather than treating nihilism as a philosophy, I would treat it as a version of the sin of despair:  The form the sin takes when it tries to clothe itself in the garments of a philosophy.  I would also encourage students to call the nihilist bluff.  As Roger Scruton said, “A writer who says that there are no truths, or that all truth is ‘merely relative,’ is asking you not to believe him.  So don’t.”

Some teachers think that in order to inoculate their students against nihilism, they should have them read authors like Nietzsche, but at the same time warn against their nihilism.  I disagree.  This is like trying to teach a wholesome view of sexuality by having them watch pornographic movies, while at the same time warning against lust.  High school students have reached an age at which they can begin to demand and understand rational arguments, so, yes, we do have to address their power of reasoning.  But they have not yet reached an age at which their power of reasoning is so strong that it cannot be overthrown by seductive language and images.

On the other hand, I think your colleague’s idea of inoculation is also partly right.  Like the developers of vaccines, I would use a weakened version of the virus.  Moreover, I would find the weakened version “in the wild,” for most high school students have already encountered various forms of nihilism.  Where?  Not in books, but in the surrounding culture.

For example, macho nihilists say, "There isn't any meaning, but I'm brave enough to live without it."  That’s just a pose.  They can't really live without meaning -- they seek it in the idea of living bravely.  The problem is that they haven't anything to be brave about.  Pop nihilists say, "Meaning is a drag -- who needs it?  I'm so cool I like life pointless."  That’s another pose.  They don't really like life pointless -- they seek meaning in seeming to like it pointless, in being cool.  The problem is that in a pointless life, being cool is as pointless as everything else.  Self-destructive nihilists say, “Since there isn’t any meaning, there’s no reason to live.”  But why is a person who is unable to find meaning troubled?  Because his expectation of meaning has been frustrated.  Why was the expectation there in the first place?  Because existence is meaningful, and our minds have been created by an infinitely meaningful God who desires to bring us to Himself.

In the nineties, my students often encountered nihilism “in the wild” through the grunge lyrics of Kurt Cobain, who committed suicide.  The music scene changes every fifteen minutes, and I don’t try to keep up.  So ask them where they’ve come across the idea that life is meaningless.  Suppose they mention a song lyric.  Try taking eight or ten lines of it – not too much! -- analyzing just how its seductive spell works.

Probably the most powerful seductive technique of such lyrics is sheer repetition.  Adolescence is a time of turbulent thoughts and feelings, sometimes lofty, sometimes giddy, sometimes way down low.  Nihilism is an echo chamber.  It doesn’t work by justifying the way-down-low thoughts, but by endlessly repeating them, the way a sorcerer repeats the words of an incantation, or a suicidal person repeats suicidal thoughts over and over in his mind, even though they aren’t true:  “I’m worthless.  Everything I touch turns to ashes.  Nobody loves me.  Nothing will ever change.”

One part of the cure is simply to stop repeating those thoughts.  They aren’t true anyway.  The fact is that though I may be discouraged, I am precious to God.  Though I may have failed in one thing, I can do a lot of things.  I am capable of loving other people, and there are people who love me.  Reminding ourselves of such facts requires discipline, especially in adolescence, because adolescents tend to wallow in their moods and feelings.  But the point of discipline is that it can be learned.  Besides, what I am feeling today, or this month, is not forever.  Nothing but God is changeless.

The other part of the cure is to start thinking about what is good and beautiful instead.  St. Paul writes to the young Church in Philippi, “whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.”  When I was young, I thought he was saying that we should pretend everything is fine even though it isn’t.  Not so.  He and the other New Testament writers have a lot to say about suffering.  For example, they talk about offering our sufferings to Christ to be united to Him, who suffered for us, in order to be made more like Him.  But realism about suffering doesn’t mean wallowing in it

 In fact, most human beings are more impressed with the goodness of life than with the evils which intrude into it, and this tendency of human minds is right.  There can be health without sickness, but sickness cannot even exist except as something amiss in what would otherwise be healthy.  There can be beauty without ugliness, but ugliness cannot even be perceived except as something wrong with what would otherwise be beautiful.

You’ll notice that although I am not treating nihilists as true philosophers, I am dealing with them some big doses of philosophy.  For example, in the previous paragraph I'm tacitly relying on philosophical theme of evil as a privation of good, which is one of St. Augustine’s themes.

Which reminds me:  Have your students read Augustine’s Confessions?  Everyone likes stories, and he writes with amazing insight about his own confused adolescence and early adulthood.  If you think it would be helpful, you might also share with your students stories of other people who descended into nihilism and escaped from it.  I see that you’ve read mine.

The best antidote to nihilism you can offer your students is the joy and meaning they can see in your own life in faith.  So don’t hide it!

MORE:

NEW INTERVIEW PODCASTS

Victor Davis Hanson: In His Own Words” podcast, with guest host Jack Fowler.  This is now on the Talks Page.

“Mortification of Spin” podcast (in case you’re wondering, that’s a pun on “mortification of sin”), interviewers Carl Trueman and Todd Pruitt.

“Ave Maria in the Afternoon” podcast, interviewer Marcus B. Peter.

“Catholic Connection” with Theresa Tomeo, beginning at the 14 minute mark.

“Issues, Etc.” with Todd Wilken.

“The Just Steward” podcast, with Doug Connolly and and Michael Frigon.

NEW BOOK REVIEW OF PANDEMIC OF LUNACY

Terrell Clemmons, “Why Are We Going Crazy? New Book Has a Diagnosis.”

I am never surprised by misunderstandings of the natural laws of sexuality and marriage.  When I first began to study natural law, some of them puzzled me too.

Here’s a question I get all the time.  We say that marriage has two natural purposes.  One of them is procreative:  Turning the wheel of the generations.  The other is unitive:  Bonding the two procreative partners.  Neither purpose may ever be dishonored.  Nonmarital intercourse destroys both goods.  Inside the marital bond, they are protected.

But does the procreative purpose imply that marital intercourse is wrong unless the husband and wife are at that moment trying to make babies?  Is it wrong for them simply to take pleasure in each other?

The answer is no, of course it isn’t.  But why?  My discussion follows Thomas Aquinas (what a surprise!), and if you want all the details, you can read them here.

The key point is that sexual intercourse is wrong if it is not rightly related to its procreative purpose, but there is a difference between saying that it must be rightly related to procreation, and saying that the motive must always be procreation.  How so?  We can understand the matter better by comparing temperance in sex with temperance in food.

We eat because food is necessary.  However, necessity can mean two different things.  In the first sense, food is necessary because we require it for life and health.  In this sense, food is necessary to all animals.  But, in the second sense, St. Thomas suggests, food is necessary because without it we cannot live becomingly.  The beasts know nothing of this, but we rational animals do.  The reason we eat and drink more on festive occasions than at other times is not simply to live and be healthy, but to live becomingly.  Obviously, God endorses this motive; after all, at the wedding feast in Cana, Jesus turned water into wine.

Even at feasts, eating and drinking must still be rightly ordered to life and health, but right order does not require that we eat and drink just for life and health.  Rather, it allows us to enjoy the blessings of food and drink “so long as they are not prejudicial” to life and health.  It would of course be prejudicial to life and health if we ate as much as we could and then purged so that we could eat still more, but it is not prejudicial to life and health to toast the married couple with wine, merely because the wine is not necessary to nutrition.

The distinction between the two senses of necessity applies to sexual intercourse too.  Remember that the husband and wife are joined in a procreative partnership.  In the first sense of necessity, then, sexual intercourse is necessary simply so that they may be fruitful.  In this sense, sexual intercourse is necessary to all animals.  But in the second sense, St. Thomas suggests, sexual intercourse is necessary so that the husband and wife may enjoy their procreative partnership becomingly, so that they may celebrate it.  They take “exuberant joy” in all aspects of their union, as only rational beings can.

Even celebratory intercourse must still be rightly ordered to procreation, but right order does not require that the spouses enjoy intercourse just for making babies.  Rather, it allows them to enjoy intercourse so long as they do nothing in intercourse to thwart the procreative possibility of their action.  For example, just as they may fast from food for a time, so they may fast from sexual intercourse for a time.  However, just as they may not insult the nutritive order of their bodies by deliberately purging during meals, so they may not violate the procreative order of their bodies by deliberately depriving coition of its fertility.

By clearing up the two senses of necessity, we clear up another point too.  What does St. Thomas mean using the Pauline language of requesting the “payment” of the “marriage debt”?  It means just this: That one spouse proposes sexual intercourse to the other, perhaps just for the enjoyment of their union.  Yes, they must always honor, and never thwart, the procreative possibility of the act, for after all, their union is a procreative partnership.  Yet, procreation need not be their motive at moment of joining.  It’s fun.

By the way, the payment of the marriage debt is not an aspect of the husband’s authority.  Indeed, St.  Thomas insists that in proposing sexual intercourse, the husband and wife are utterly equal; either may propose intercourse to the other.  Neither does proposing it mean disregarding the feelings or well-being of the other spouse; he always reminds husbands to be considerate to their wives.

Why on earth then does St. Thomas use the language of a “debt” at all?  For that matter, why does St. Paul?  If to us, this language seems to diminish the loving unity of marriage, reducing intercourse to a cold transaction, we are missing the point.  The point is to emphasize its loving unity and deny that it is a cold transaction.  For do we really believe that the husband and wife become one?  Do we really believe that in marriage, they give themselves to each other?  Then we must believe that they are not coldly separate, autonomous beings, who merely happen to have worked out an arrangement of convenience.  With respect to the joining of their bodies, they are one.  Just because they really are united, each spouse owes it to the other to act as though they are united.  This is a real duty, a real owing, a real debt.  To force oneself upon one’s spouse is wrong -- but so is withholding intercourse out of spite or indifference.

From this point of view, the mutual debt which the spouses owe to each other is like the duty of loving care which each person owes to himself, a point which St.  Paul also emphasizes when he says, “Even so husbands should love their wives as their own bodies.  He who loves his wife loves himself.”  St.  Thomas comments on this verse, “Just as a man sins against nature in hating himself, so does he who hates his wife.”  They should be enjoying each other.

Actually, not only is marital intercourse fun, but it is more fun than nonmarital intercourse.  But that’s a topic for another day.

You may have seen the news stories about the two Florida nurses who wished harm on patients with whom they had political disagreements.  Both nurses were afterward disciplined.

I would like to make a simple point about those cases, not about “political violence,” but about medical violence.  First a quick review.

Registered nurse Erik Martindale posted on Facebook, “I will not perform anesthesia for any surgeries or procedures for MAGA [Trump supporters].  It is my right, it is my ethical oath, and I stand behind my education.  I own all of my businesses and I can refuse anyone!”  The post was later taken down – Martindale claims he was hacked – but he has been disciplined.

Labor and delivery nurse Lexie Lawyer put up a video on social media saying that she hoped White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt, who is pregnant, would suffer a fourth-degree tear during the birth of her baby:  “"I hope you f*cking rip from bow to stern and never sh*t normally again, you c*nt."

My point is simple:  What should we have expected when, beginning in the 1970s, we authorized doctors and nurses to kill instead of heal and succor?  Medical schools even rewrote the Hippocratic oath, eliminating any divine sanction and replacing the prohibition of abortion and poisoning with weaselly language about how “my power to take a life ... must be faced with great humbleness and awareness of my own frailty.”

Once we say that it is all right to take innocent human life, it becomes very difficult to say “But only these reasons, not those reasons.”

What kind of world did we think we were making?  A people tends to get exactly what it wants.  It may not like it.