Splurge.
Congratulations on a wonderful essay. Beautifully written, beautifully reasoned, wholly true.
You speak of the uncanny quality of forgiveness, and the far more natural state of judgment and vengeance. I’m reminded of the philosopher Rene Girard.
Probably inspired by Schopenhauer, Girard believed that all desire is the desire for being. This desire takes material form through covetousness: desiring what others value. The more I covet what’s yours, the more you cling to it. Finally, we begin to attack one another, setting off an endless back-and-forth of violence. The feud is only resolved when both sides cast the blame on an innocent scapegoat. The scapegoat is first executed, and then celebrated as a god for ending the quarrel.
Girard, a Catholic, believed the gift of the gospels was that they exposed this system once and for all, so we could finally abandon it.
Why do we fear to accept that gift and let go of judgment? For one thing, we’re afraid if we don’t judge one another, the moral order will collapse. If you don’t stone the adulteress, well, then everyone will commit adultery.
Perhaps. Society does require justice. But here’s a true story. I’ve changed some of the details to protect confidentiality.
I’ve occasionally volunteered to man suicide hotlines. Once, I got a call from a young man who had become involved in Satanism. Seeing as Satan is the enemy of God and man, I had to struggle not to call on this fellow to repent in sackcloth and ashes.
But that’s not how these hotlines work. I simply listened to him. I asked him how he had come to Satan worship and what he got from it. Clearly relieved that I had not condemned him or preached at him, he soon confided in me about the troubled personal history that had left him wounded and full of anger. After a while, he was laughing at himself for dabbling in the gruesome stupidity of Satanic ritual, trying to get back at those who had wronged him. I don’t know what happened to him, but before he hung up, he told me he was done with such stuff.
As I drove home, feeling satisfied with myself, I reflected that God had often dealt with me the same way. He had not condemned me, but simply listened until I understood I could not reconcile my actions with his love.
It’s really our own virtue we fear for — our appearance of virtue, that is. If I listen to a Satanist, will I be thought to love Satan? If I mourn the Confederate dead, will I be accused of condoning slavery? The lie bedeviling our culture right now is that some of us are righteous therefore we must seem to be among them.
But if we ditch that bilge and simply offer one another what semblance of God’s love we can muster, the moral truth will out.
TTFN,
Dad
“ I reflected that God had often dealt with me the same way. He had not condemned me, but simply listened until I understood I could not reconcile my actions with his love.”
This statement is so true! Thank you Mr. Klavan.
These two essays between you and Spencer have spoken to me at deep levels--and they coincide with my slow understanding that we cannot reconcile ourselves to God--He has already reconciled Himself to us. Ours is now to spread that Gospel and, as St. Francis insisted, if necessary (which you two pull off almost effortlessly...) use words. Thanks so very much.