Your Own Faltering Way

The New York Times Ethicist Strikes Again

File: St Paul's Cathedral Nave, London, UK - Diliff.jpg - Wikimedia Commons

[For those listening, so sorry about the Dog, Bunter, joining me midway and breathing loudly into the mic!]

The wide Twitter world is aflame over admiration of the First Lady’s hat on one hand, and much speculation over whether Elon intentionally performed a Nazi salute on the other. Plus there are the executive orders signed yesterday. I am a little annoyed, to be honest, that EO stands for both “Executive Order” and “Eastern Orthodox” and that my feed is full of both kinds of conversations and that I’m never quite sure which one it is until halfway through the post. Anyway, I came across something a little more up my alley—under what circumstances is it acceptable to go to church?

Seriously, how has it come to be that in the year of our Lord 2025, when wandering around looking for tidbits to write about on a Monday evening, all I need to do is hop on over to Ye Olde New York Times Ethicist and be handed something on a silver platter every single time? Is someone over there reading my blog and thinking, what would Anne like to write about this Tuesday? Is this like how Jehoram knew what the King of Aram was doing because Elisha, the prophet of God, was always telling him?

Anyway, I was made for such a time as this. Here is the question posed:

I grew up in the Catholic tradition, but after obtaining several university degrees — including one in religion — it became clear to me that Jesus wasn’t divine and that the cobbling together of the Bible in the fourth century was a consummate work of spin-doctoring. I have about 20 arguments in defense of this, not the least of which is Christ’s inefficacy. After 2,000 years, his followers have split into thousands of sects, many of whom have shot and killed members of rival sects. Think of Northern Ireland, World War II. It doesn’t seem to me the way an omnipotent deity should operate. But boy, oh, boy, do I love the artistic output of Christianity. Bach’s B-minor Mass, the Fauré Requiem, St. Paul’s Cathedral — all these lift my spirit. I love a beautiful Christian service. (Where else do you hear an organ like that?) Actors talk about ‘‘working from the outside in,’’ in which a physical position unlocks inner emotions. For me, kneeling does this. I don’t pray, but the act creates humility and gratitude. It does me good. Then there’s the lovely sense of community in a congregation. I’ll never be converted. So I guess I’m lying when I turn up at a service and recite the Creed and sing the hymns as lustily as anyone else. Am I hurting anyone by doing this? Is it, for want of a better word, a sin? — Name Withheld

First of all, paging Wes Huff! The Bible definitely wasn’t cobbled together in the fourth century by spin-doctors. If you don’t feel like doing all the relevant reading, you can simply hop over to the Daily Office or any Bible reading plan. Yesterday I had to endure Abraham trying to sell off his wife, Sarah, which was so embarrassing, and then Peter denying his Lord not once, not twice, but three times. One of the best ways to know that the Bible is the word of God is because of how bad all the people are. If people were the original and sole authors, you would never have so many sinners being helpless apart from the grace of God on display.

Not to change the subject (there’s so much going on in this short paragraph) but what happened in World War II? I don’t remember Christians shooting each other for being Christian. Did I miss something? Also, that is so funny, the “inefficacy” of Christ. That is certainly the kind of thing a person would say who has determined to never give it a try. Why not go to Christ on his own terms, as God, and see what he has to say? If you are determined to debunk it all don’t get another degree, go read the people who are sure it is all true and try to understand why they think that. Then you may come back and lecture everyone about how stupid they are for believing. For that, Gentle Reader, is what is going on here. Name Withheld knows better than two thousand years of Christian believers who made all these things he loves. Doubtless, he will soon be making some lovely things himself, out of the depths of his hubris, but in the meantime, can’t he just attend a nice church service without feeling bad?

Anyway, what does The Ethecist have to say? What wisdom may we embrace in this wretched hour?

A church represents a confluence of practices, beliefs and community, and its congregants will be drawn for all sorts of reasons. No doubt you’re participating in these services in a different frame of mind from many others who are there, but Catholics have long been aware of the aesthetic appeal of their tradition’s art, music, architecture and liturgy — an aspect of the via pulchritudinis, or way of beauty, that Pope Francis has invoked. As for reciting the Nicene Creed: You might inquire what exactly your neighbors on the pew think it means to be of one substance, or consubstantial, with the Father. Of course, you could always visit churches, like those of the Unitarian Universalists, that explicitly reject creeds and that expect some members of the congregation to be atheists. They have hymns, too. But if the way of beauty leads you to the Catholic services of your upbringing, you shouldn’t feel as if you don’t belong, however deep your doubts. There’s no saying what a service means to any one of its participants. So your presence and participation can hardly be taken as a declaration of any particular creedal commitments. If the issue of faith comes up, you can freely tell your fellow congregants, ‘‘I’m not really a believer, but I love these services.’’ They’re unlikely to object to your being there. Some might be in your situation; some might hope that your attendance could, contrary to your expectations, change your mind. Many clerics advocate ‘‘meeting people where they are.’’ They may think that you’re appreciating God’s work in your own faltering way.

How can I sum this up? Don’t feel bad. Do you like going to church sometimes? That’s fine. Do whatever you like. Also, have you thought about being a Unitarian?

I have a clever idea. It was something a person who always came to church with his wife did to make the time profitable for himself. He didn’t believe but she did, and so, during the Creed, he said, “You believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of Heaven and Earth,” and so on. At least it was intellectually honest.

But really, why can’t the New York Times let me be the Ethicist? I feel I would be so good at it. Here is the answer I would give if I received such an inquiry:

A church represents an outpost of the kingdom of God on earth. Its practices, beliefs, its community, and congregants are all arranged by the Spirit of God who superintends their worship. They listen to the Word of God which both convicts and encourages them. Their standing, sitting, and kneeling all bring them to fully know Jesus. No doubt you’re participating in these services in a different frame of mind, but that is because you have not been listening. You are holding yourself afar off. You are judging God, when really, you should let him judge you. Your childhood upbringing is lovely, of course, but you should wonder if perhaps you aren’t missing something. Isn’t it possible that the many generations of believers who built the things you love know something that you don’t? The Creed is about something beyond you—a Person who lived and died and rose again, who made claims about himself that you should grapple with. The reason you feel you don’t belong is that you haven’t given yourself into the hands of the Person being worshiped. This whole exercise isn’t about you, it’s about him. He is the judge of heaven and earth, and yet he came to make peace with you if you will only consider him for who he is and what he has done. Your presence and participation—especially if you are friendly and smiling—are absolutely a sign that you believe and so if you don’t, you should definitely tell someone, like the priest, so that you don’t make yourself into a hypocrite. The people around you will want to be praying for your soul, that you won’t go down to death and hell without accepting the Lord Christ. Please don’t take communion if you don’t believe, for heaven’s sake. That said, they will not object to you being there. On the contrary, they will be rejoicing with a twinge of anxiety. They will wake up in the middle of the night to pray for you. The fact is, they know you are a sinner and they know you need a Savior and they also know there isn’t anything they can do about it except to appeal to God who is the only one who can turn the heart of stone into a heart of flesh. Fortunately, they have often seen him do that, and so they are hopeful you will be the next one and they will get a front row pew on watching it happen.

So anyway, I listened to this while I wrote this:

Have a lovely day!