The Messiah discusses religion as philosophic inquiry, atheism and South Park over sole meuniere in London.
This is the first interview Christ has ever granted, so I arrive at Wilton’s early and excited. Nevertheless, when I am led to a booth towards the back of the restaurant, I find Him already waiting for me. His features are very similar to His portraits (though his complexion is slightly darker) but I wouldn’t recognise Him if it weren’t for His halo: though He has kept the beard (“beards are back in vogue,” he remarks), He has cut his hair, and has ditched the tunic in favour of a bespoke navy blue suit and blue tie with a seagulls motif.
“So,” I fire away, “what do you think of Christianity these days? How has it fared?” Hit and miss, he says, hit and miss. “I don’t like how spineless religious leaders are - very backwards, afraid to make progress. On the other hand, millions of people find solace in Christianity, and many use its teachings to become better people, which is its point in the end.”
A waiter arrives to ask if we would like a drink. I ask him whether he’s tempted by a glass of wine. “A glass?” he replies grinning. “I thought the paper is footing the bill, why not a bottle?” This surprise is welcome, given that most of the FT’s guests these days eschew alcohol altogether. We order a bottle of Pouilly-Fume, and study our menus. We both opt for lobster bisque to begin with and sole meunier for main.
As the waiter retires, I ask Christ what exactly does He mean when He accuses religious leaders of being backwards. In what ways ought they be progressive? He explains His argument is not so much about the Church’s position on any particular topic, but rather its overall dogmatic approach. “You see, Christianity was not meant to be a series of prescriptive rules, fixed for eternity. I mean, yes, sure, I did provide some guidance, but it was not meant to be set in stone - my advice was relevant for that particular era.”
Our waiter returns with our bottle of wine. Christ tries it and motions the waiter to fill our glasses. He continues elaborating on His argument. It turns out Christianity wasn’t meant to become dogma, but the beginning of a new kind of philosophic inquiry. Christ argues that as early as 0 AD philosophy had become the province of academics, an esoteric discipline with little practical applicability. “A few hundred years before then, the common citizenry would discuss the nature of morality, try to draw lessons from it and use it to become better”. This gradually stopped happening, He argues, so he came to the world to try to re-engage humanity.
If that was His purpose, I say, he didn’t quite succeed. “You don’t say”, He responds with a smile. “I tried to get people to think about what makes a person good - humility, kindness, forgiveness - yet the message, simple though it was, got lost.” He claims things are worse than ever now, which is why He is giving this interview.
“I blame our universities” I joke. “And so you should!” he agrees. “Academics seem more interested in producing incomprehensible essays on the nature of reality (without any training in physics, by the way) than in connecting with and guiding the average person.”
As our bisque arrives, I ask him whether this is related to the increase in polarisation we see in politics. “Absolutely, a hundred percent. Look, you have people arguing without listening to each other at all - why is that? It’s not because people are stupid or inherently hateful, it’s because they don’t have a common vocabulary when it comes to discussions on morality. It’s like trying to have a debate at the Cambridge Union where one side argues in Greek and the other in Arabic.” He points out that while academics write five-hundred page books on theories of justice, the average person does not even know how to begin analysing the morality of a given action. “Let me ask you this: suppose person A intentionally shoots and kills person B. Suppose also that person C gets drunk and fatally runs over a child. Are A and C both immoral? If yes, equally so? Well, some people will say yes, others will say no, but almost everyone will make a judgement based on uncalibrated, uneducated intuition.” How would He approach that question, I ask Him. He says one needs a framework, a common framework He stresses, for tackling this issue. “For instance, you could start by arguing any action can be evaluated across two dimensions - intention and efficacy. You could argue that morality is a function of intent only, not result - so, for example, if I say something that offends you, I am only immoral if I meant to hurt you; if I used clumsy language, though stupid, I’m not immoral”.
He hastens to add that this isn’t necessarily the right framework - in fact, He admits, it is demonstrably incomplete, as it can only evaluate the morality of an action, not of inaction - so, while this model is useful for, say, distinguishing between murder and a fatal accident at a shooting range, it doesn’t have anything to say about a driver’s responsibility to not drive when drunk. “But it would be a start,” He adds.
What about science, I ask. How is one to reconcile it with religion? “Science ought to guide religion, and philosophy more generally. As I said, religion was meant to help people reach their telos, to become moral, happy. Scientific disciplines like psychology, or even behavioural economics, offer insights in what makes people happy, or what they perceive as moral. Religion ought to use these insights to evolve its message. But religious leaders, and philosophers for that matter, don’t seem to pay much attention to the latest scientific thinking.”
As our mains arrive, I change topics and ask Him about His dress code. “I thought you advocated humility. How does an Hermes tie fit with that message?” “Ferragamo,” He corrects me laughing and fingering his tie. “I like how playful it is.” He explains that message was misunderstood: “I wasn’t trying to say people shouldn’t enjoy life. Why would Father create all this beauty in the world, and grant humanity the capacity for aesthetic appreciation, if such appreciation were a sin?” What He was trying to get across is that people shouldn’t accumulate material goods driven by greed and a desire to show off; “buy things if they make you happy - and don’t take them for granted!”
I also question Him on religious texts and church services. He says He is disappointed in how His Apostles wrote their Books. “Too dry, no sense of humour. Which is a shame, because in real life some of them were very jocular - I don’t know who decreed that academic, philosophic and scientific texts have to be as arid as the Sahara, but people seem to have equated dullness with seriousness and significance. Again, recall my point earlier about science being insufficiently exploited; it is a fact that humour makes a message more memorable; advertisers have exploited that, but academics? Not so much.”
Does He think going to church is important? “I think taking time to meditate is important, and I think churches provide a great environment for doing so. If, as we discussed, priests used religion as moral inquiry rather than as dogma, church could serve a very important function.” What about other religions? “I think the same criticisms I’ve leveled against Christianity apply. No religion is inherently wrong; ossified thinking and hatred are.”
Having finished our mains and our bottle of wine, we feel too heavy for dessert, so we only order two espressos. I question him on atheism - what is his view of it? He draws a distinction between atheism as an argument against the existence of a deity and as an argument against religion’s moral teachings. “I get rejecting something you cannot prove; but religion as a theory of morality ought to be evaluated on its own merits - if Christianity or Islam help people become better, if their logic is not inherently self-contradictory, why argue that they are invalid as tools of philosophic inquiry?” I raise the point that a lot of people, inspired by religion, cause pain and destruction. Surely, then, atheists are sometimes right to be polemic? “That’s not a fair argument against religion - Stalin killed a lot of people in the name of Marxism, but no-one argues economics is inherently evil.” He pauses for a minute, and then adds chuckling, “okay, some people do.”
As I pay, I ask Christ what He thinks of parodying religion. He replies that there is nothing inherently wrong with it, though it is often done badly - “in which case it’s immoral inasmuch as bad art is immoral”. He thinks comedy is a great way of criticising any concept, “from Aristophanes's comedies to The Book of Mormon - if the piece of work has something to say, and can make people laugh at the same time, I don’t see why I should object to that. By the way - going back to atheism - have you seen that South Park episode on Mormons? It ends with a little Mormon boy, admitting to another character that Mormonism may be silly, but its practitioners are nice people, and he himself is happier than the other inhabitants of the titular town, closing with ‘you have a lot of growing up to do, buddy’ - plus an obscenity. That pretty much sums up my vision for Christianity”.
This is the first interview Christ has ever granted, so I arrive at Wilton’s early and excited. Nevertheless, when I am led to a booth towards the back of the restaurant, I find Him already waiting for me. His features are very similar to His portraits (though his complexion is slightly darker) but I wouldn’t recognise Him if it weren’t for His halo: though He has kept the beard (“beards are back in vogue,” he remarks), He has cut his hair, and has ditched the tunic in favour of a bespoke navy blue suit and blue tie with a seagulls motif.
“So,” I fire away, “what do you think of Christianity these days? How has it fared?” Hit and miss, he says, hit and miss. “I don’t like how spineless religious leaders are - very backwards, afraid to make progress. On the other hand, millions of people find solace in Christianity, and many use its teachings to become better people, which is its point in the end.”
A waiter arrives to ask if we would like a drink. I ask him whether he’s tempted by a glass of wine. “A glass?” he replies grinning. “I thought the paper is footing the bill, why not a bottle?” This surprise is welcome, given that most of the FT’s guests these days eschew alcohol altogether. We order a bottle of Pouilly-Fume, and study our menus. We both opt for lobster bisque to begin with and sole meunier for main.
As the waiter retires, I ask Christ what exactly does He mean when He accuses religious leaders of being backwards. In what ways ought they be progressive? He explains His argument is not so much about the Church’s position on any particular topic, but rather its overall dogmatic approach. “You see, Christianity was not meant to be a series of prescriptive rules, fixed for eternity. I mean, yes, sure, I did provide some guidance, but it was not meant to be set in stone - my advice was relevant for that particular era.”
Our waiter returns with our bottle of wine. Christ tries it and motions the waiter to fill our glasses. He continues elaborating on His argument. It turns out Christianity wasn’t meant to become dogma, but the beginning of a new kind of philosophic inquiry. Christ argues that as early as 0 AD philosophy had become the province of academics, an esoteric discipline with little practical applicability. “A few hundred years before then, the common citizenry would discuss the nature of morality, try to draw lessons from it and use it to become better”. This gradually stopped happening, He argues, so he came to the world to try to re-engage humanity.
If that was His purpose, I say, he didn’t quite succeed. “You don’t say”, He responds with a smile. “I tried to get people to think about what makes a person good - humility, kindness, forgiveness - yet the message, simple though it was, got lost.” He claims things are worse than ever now, which is why He is giving this interview.
“I blame our universities” I joke. “And so you should!” he agrees. “Academics seem more interested in producing incomprehensible essays on the nature of reality (without any training in physics, by the way) than in connecting with and guiding the average person.”
As our bisque arrives, I ask him whether this is related to the increase in polarisation we see in politics. “Absolutely, a hundred percent. Look, you have people arguing without listening to each other at all - why is that? It’s not because people are stupid or inherently hateful, it’s because they don’t have a common vocabulary when it comes to discussions on morality. It’s like trying to have a debate at the Cambridge Union where one side argues in Greek and the other in Arabic.” He points out that while academics write five-hundred page books on theories of justice, the average person does not even know how to begin analysing the morality of a given action. “Let me ask you this: suppose person A intentionally shoots and kills person B. Suppose also that person C gets drunk and fatally runs over a child. Are A and C both immoral? If yes, equally so? Well, some people will say yes, others will say no, but almost everyone will make a judgement based on uncalibrated, uneducated intuition.” How would He approach that question, I ask Him. He says one needs a framework, a common framework He stresses, for tackling this issue. “For instance, you could start by arguing any action can be evaluated across two dimensions - intention and efficacy. You could argue that morality is a function of intent only, not result - so, for example, if I say something that offends you, I am only immoral if I meant to hurt you; if I used clumsy language, though stupid, I’m not immoral”.
He hastens to add that this isn’t necessarily the right framework - in fact, He admits, it is demonstrably incomplete, as it can only evaluate the morality of an action, not of inaction - so, while this model is useful for, say, distinguishing between murder and a fatal accident at a shooting range, it doesn’t have anything to say about a driver’s responsibility to not drive when drunk. “But it would be a start,” He adds.
What about science, I ask. How is one to reconcile it with religion? “Science ought to guide religion, and philosophy more generally. As I said, religion was meant to help people reach their telos, to become moral, happy. Scientific disciplines like psychology, or even behavioural economics, offer insights in what makes people happy, or what they perceive as moral. Religion ought to use these insights to evolve its message. But religious leaders, and philosophers for that matter, don’t seem to pay much attention to the latest scientific thinking.”
As our mains arrive, I change topics and ask Him about His dress code. “I thought you advocated humility. How does an Hermes tie fit with that message?” “Ferragamo,” He corrects me laughing and fingering his tie. “I like how playful it is.” He explains that message was misunderstood: “I wasn’t trying to say people shouldn’t enjoy life. Why would Father create all this beauty in the world, and grant humanity the capacity for aesthetic appreciation, if such appreciation were a sin?” What He was trying to get across is that people shouldn’t accumulate material goods driven by greed and a desire to show off; “buy things if they make you happy - and don’t take them for granted!”
I also question Him on religious texts and church services. He says He is disappointed in how His Apostles wrote their Books. “Too dry, no sense of humour. Which is a shame, because in real life some of them were very jocular - I don’t know who decreed that academic, philosophic and scientific texts have to be as arid as the Sahara, but people seem to have equated dullness with seriousness and significance. Again, recall my point earlier about science being insufficiently exploited; it is a fact that humour makes a message more memorable; advertisers have exploited that, but academics? Not so much.”
Does He think going to church is important? “I think taking time to meditate is important, and I think churches provide a great environment for doing so. If, as we discussed, priests used religion as moral inquiry rather than as dogma, church could serve a very important function.” What about other religions? “I think the same criticisms I’ve leveled against Christianity apply. No religion is inherently wrong; ossified thinking and hatred are.”
Having finished our mains and our bottle of wine, we feel too heavy for dessert, so we only order two espressos. I question him on atheism - what is his view of it? He draws a distinction between atheism as an argument against the existence of a deity and as an argument against religion’s moral teachings. “I get rejecting something you cannot prove; but religion as a theory of morality ought to be evaluated on its own merits - if Christianity or Islam help people become better, if their logic is not inherently self-contradictory, why argue that they are invalid as tools of philosophic inquiry?” I raise the point that a lot of people, inspired by religion, cause pain and destruction. Surely, then, atheists are sometimes right to be polemic? “That’s not a fair argument against religion - Stalin killed a lot of people in the name of Marxism, but no-one argues economics is inherently evil.” He pauses for a minute, and then adds chuckling, “okay, some people do.”
As I pay, I ask Christ what He thinks of parodying religion. He replies that there is nothing inherently wrong with it, though it is often done badly - “in which case it’s immoral inasmuch as bad art is immoral”. He thinks comedy is a great way of criticising any concept, “from Aristophanes's comedies to The Book of Mormon - if the piece of work has something to say, and can make people laugh at the same time, I don’t see why I should object to that. By the way - going back to atheism - have you seen that South Park episode on Mormons? It ends with a little Mormon boy, admitting to another character that Mormonism may be silly, but its practitioners are nice people, and he himself is happier than the other inhabitants of the titular town, closing with ‘you have a lot of growing up to do, buddy’ - plus an obscenity. That pretty much sums up my vision for Christianity”.
No comments:
Post a Comment