Theological Parsimony

 

 St. Augustine, the wisdom-loving brilliant and talented rhetorician, was put off by the Christian scriptures initially after reading Cicero and being stirred for a love of wisdom, citing the Bible’s “painfully unstylish Latin.” He was seduced for almost a decade by the Manichean sect, whose esoteric teachings appealed to his intellect. Augustine would realize later, however, that the Christian Scriptures are “a text lowly to the beginner but, on further reading, of mountainous difficulty and enveloped in mysteries.”

I recently wrote an article for publication titled The Means and Ends of the Mass. It was a bit of a tenuous threading of the needle to get the premise I wanted to communicate across (and I'm not even convinced I did it well), but in doing so I stuck to the most basic of sources: scripture and the Baltimore Catechism, which I was a little embarrassed about because both are not the most sophisticated sources. 

Like Augustine, prior to and early in my conversion, I was put off by the Ned Flanders cultural banality of Christianity as I saw it, but was nonetheless seduced by more esoteric variants that sought to meld New Age, Gnostic, and Eastern ways of thinking with Christianity. Bede Griffiths, Thich Nhat Hanh, Thomas Merton, and Thomas Keating were standard fare on my bookshelf. I would read Pierre Theilard de Chardin's thesis on the Omega Point and the "Noosphere" and think myself pretty theologically sophisticated, when the fact of the matter is I didn't really understand it at all (I sometimes feel that way trying to follow Fr. Ripperger as well, albeit in a different way). In my mind, Christianity on its own was like steak and potatoes, vanilla sex, and Volvo station wagons.  It needed some "dressing up," the way my buddies in high school would adorn their stock 1996 VW Jettas with racing stripes and rear spoilers. 

This, of course, led me to various wayward forays into dangerous spiritual territory, that Grace had to once again reach down and set me straight from. Now I find myself, as I get older, appreciating a kind of "theological parsimony" when it comes to making sense of the faith and the challenges of the modern world. 

Parsimony, as it relates to the philosophical principal inherent in Occam's Razor, suggests that we should prefer simpler explanations and solutions over more complex ones, all other things being equal. This came to mind as I brushed across a recent video of Jordan Peterson talking with Russel Brand (who had recently been baptized) on the topic of "the Collective Unconscious, Christ, and the Covenant." Now, it seems both these men are on a journey to faith, and I don't want to reproach a man who is turning away from sin, as my friend Boniface adjures, by being too critical. These men are deep thinkers and public quasi-intellectuals, and they wildly gesticulate for hours while slurping the intellectual marrow from the femur of faith. But sometimes the simplest solution to life's problems are right in front of your face:

Repent, and believe in the Gospel

The lives of the Fathers give a kind of alternative to the philosophical pontificating with meat and potatoes metanoia lived out. Take, for example, St. Anthony's single-mindedness in unlocking the door to paradise with the key given to us in the Living Word:

When Saint Anthony was about twenty years old, he lost his parents, but he was responsible for the care of his younger sister. Going to church about six months later, the youth reflected on how the faithful, in the Acts of the Apostles (4:35), sold their possessions and gave the proceeds to the Apostles for the needy.

Then he entered the church and heard the Gospel passage where Christ speaks to the rich young man: “If you would be perfect, go, sell what you possess and give it to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come follow Me” (Mt.19:21). Anthony felt that these words applied to him. Therefore, he sold the property that he received after the death of his parents, then distributed the money to the poor, and left his sister in the care of pious virgins in a convent. [1]

I may have mentioned this before, but my favorite figure in the Bible is the Ethiopian eunuch in Acts 8, whose model of docility to teaching, firm intention of purpose, and purity of heart is one I hold close to my heart:

Now an angel of the Lord spoke to Philip, saying: Arise, go towards the south, to the way that goeth down from Jerusalem into Gaza: this is desert.

And rising up, he went. And behold a man of Ethiopia, an eunuch, of great authority under Candace the queen of the Ethiopians, who had charge over all her treasures, had come to Jerusalem to adore.

And he was returning, sitting in his chariot, and reading Isaias the prophet.

And the Spirit said to Philip: Go near, and join thyself to this chariot.

And Philip running thither, heard him reading the prophet Isaias. And he said: Thinkest thou that thou understandest what thou readest?

Who said: And how can I, unless some man shew me? And he desired Philip that he would come up and sit with him.

And the place of the scripture which he was reading was this: He was led as a sheep to the slaughter; and like a lamb without voice before his shearer, so openeth he not his mouth.

In humility his judgment was taken away. His generation who shall declare, for his life shall be taken from the earth?

And the eunuch answering Philip, said: I beseech thee, of whom doth the prophet speak this? of himself, or of some other man?

Then Philip, opening his mouth, and beginning at this scripture, preached unto him Jesus.

And as they went on their way, they came to a certain water; and the eunuch said: See, here is water: what doth hinder me from being baptized?

And Philip said: If thou believest with all thy heart, thou mayest. And he answering, said: I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God.

And he commanded the chariot to stand still; and they went down into the water, both Philip and the eunuch: and he baptized him.

And when they were come up out of the water, the Spirit of the Lord took away Philip; and the eunuch saw him no more. And he went on his way rejoicing.

It's neat to see these public intellectuals and cultural figures lately approaching the shores of Christianity and wrestling with its claims. Perhaps God is using them, and as He said to Isaiah the prophet, "see, I am doing a new thing." But I think the theological parsimony of the Ethiopian eunuch and the simple obedience of St. Anthony is refreshing amidst the torrent of words and conjectures that some of these figures employ, as if Christianity is not "enough" on its own that it needs to be re-baptized in the waters of Jungian archetypes or tantric vibrations. 

Sometimes the simplest explanation is best: you are a helpless sinner who must submit to the Lordship of Christ to be saved. Fear Him, do not sin. Ponder on your bed and be still. Make justice your sacrifice and trust in the Lord (Ps 4:4). All the dancing and pontificating we do to get to that point serves its purpose...provided it does in fact lead one to that pivotal decision to leave their nets and follow him. After that, watch out, because grace has a way of changing you from the inside out.