Richard Houchin

The Embarrassment of Christ and the Poverty of Arrogance


Part 2: Arrogance in the Mystic Tradition

Humility is a favored virtue of Christian theology. Or at least, it is a virtue given much lip service. Perhaps most especially among the poverty-sworn monks, like Thomas Merton. Christ himself says, "For whosoever exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted" (Luke 14:11). That's one of many, many verses on the virtue of humility.

In a display of dark irony, Merton follows his chapter on how man is god unto woman with his chapter on humility. Merton, himself a mystic, informs us that English mystics,

have a charm and simplicity that are unequaled by any other school. And they are also, it may be said, generally quite clear, down-to-earth, and practical, even when they are concerned with the loftiest of matters. They never seemed to have thought of their life with God as something recondite or even unusual. They were simply Christians. (128)

Of course, Merton is quite right in saying these mystics were simply Christians. He concludes by noting that, "They rejoiced that in Him they had direct access to the Father of Lights." (Merton 129)

In a dictatorship where all are presumed guilty (original sin), and thought crime is punishable (the tenth commandment, Exodus 20:17), I ask you to imagine a citizen who believes that he has direct access to the Supreme Leader, the Father of Lights--an access others lack. Imagine in the cinema of your mind a story with such a character--how likely is it that this citizen is given to humility?

The answer is too obvious to mention. I must so emphasize these words of Merton's because sometimes the most audacious acts of deception go unnoticed precisely because of their baldness. Merton follows his description of the English mystics with the claim that man,

had fallen from the divine likeness by centering all his love upon himself. The monastery and monastic life were designed to reeducate and reform man's capacity to love, liberating him from fixation upon himself. (132)

Indeed, a substantial part of Christian theology is devoted to the liberation of man from self-fixation. The mystics are held by Merton to be paragons of this practice. How did they achieve this humble feat? Don't worry, Merton is not one to leave us without concrete examples. But first, I should mention a certain Frenchman.

Pierre Simon de Laplace defined the mathematical theory of probabilities. He is one of the most influential and earth-moving scientists to have lived among us, and demonstrated a remarkable capacity for retaining his head in spite of standing up to Napoleon.

In his text A Philosophical Essay on Probabilities Laplace observes,

The opinion that man has long been placed in the centre of the universe, considering himself the special object of the cares of nature, leads each individual to make himself the centre of a more or less extended sphere and to believe that hazard has preference for him. Sustained by this belief, players often risk considerable sums at games when they know that the chances are unfavorable. In the conduct of life a similar opinion may sometimes have advantages; but most often it leads to disastrous enterprises. Here as everywhere illusions are dangerous and truth alone is generally useful. (Hawking 473)

In the time of Laplace, the only opinion that had "long been placed" was the Christian opinion. Christianity erected a theology constituted on the belief that each individual human is infinitely beloved by the supreme Creator of the Universe, and that this Creator has a specific, divine plan for you personally. The act of prayer is founded on the belief that the Father of Lights will intercede in the natural world on behalf of his creatures. This is what miracles are. As Ivan Turgenenev wrote,

Whatever a man prays for, he prays for a miracle. Every prayer reduces itself to this: Great God, grant that twice two be not four.

Much to the annoyance of Laplace, this ancient tradition tends to skew intuitive understanding of probabilities. One sympathizes.

Merton is certainly aware of this tradition. He quickly moves from his brief description of the Christian mystic and their focus on a liberation from self-love, to concrete examples. He quotes the famed mystic Anglican Thomas Traherne. Traherne is speaking on the "Redemption" that is given "only by the Holy Spirit,"

You never enjoy the world aright till the sea itself floweth in your veins, till you are clothed with the heavens and crowned with the stars; and perceive yourself to be the sole heir of the whole world, and more then so, because men are in it who are every one sole heirs as well as you. (133)

I almost suspect Merton of being a subversive anti-Christian, so artfully does he juxtapose the Christian mystic's claim to humility with their own arrogance. Merton tells us that Traherne also says,

By this you may know that you are infinitely beloved: God hath made your spirit a center in eternity comprehending all, and filled all about you in an endless manner with infinite riches: which shine before you and surround you with divine and heavenly enjoyments. (133)

I apologize for quoting at such length, but the best way to demonstrate the lack of humility present even in the epitome of the Christian tradition is to let them speak for themselves. Remarkably, Merton follows the two preceding quotes with this gem, revealing that Traherne

adds a sentence that manifests the real inner spirit of the English mystics in all their love of the positive and of the concrete: We infinitely wrong ourselves by laziness and confinement. All creatures in all nations and tongues and peoples praise God infinitely: and the more for being your sole and perfect treasures. You are never what you ought till you go out of yourself and walk among them. (133-134)

As presented by a well-read devout expert on the subject, these mystics are the prime paragons which Christianity can produce. This is where Christianity will lead him who seeks to "liberate himself from fixation upon himself." And yet the quotes provided are the most self-centered, arrogant, delusions of self-importance I have ever read. Nevertheless, I believe Merton that this is the best Christianity has to offer on the record of humility.

It is difficult for me to imagine a more conceited phrase than, "Perceive yourself to be the sole heir of the world," and "you are infinitely beloved: God hath made your spirit a center in eternity." It is a testament to the depths of human presumption that anyone could say "All creatures in all nations and tongues and peoples praise God infinitely: and the more for being your sole and perfect treasures." This displays not even a disregard for people of other faiths, or no faith at all, but an apparent honest belief that people of other faiths do not exist, not really. Even C.S. Lewis was more than half-convinced that believers of other faiths were really praying to Christ, even if they didn't know it. This philosophy is invidiously called 'inclusivism.'

Feeling this way is fine (if megalomania suits you), but it is not humble nor is it liberating from self-fixation. Christopher Hitchens asks,

How much vanity must be concealed--not too effectively at that--in order to pretend that one is the personal object of a divine plan? How much self-respect must be sacrificed in order that one may squirm continually in an awareness of one's own sin? (7)

Laplace strikes much closer to the mark of humility in describing a world where no higher power is in the leastwise concerned about you in any way imaginable. A mechanistic world driven by science and probabilities, uncaring and even unaware of human lives and hopes and dreams, is certainly much more humble than a world where the Father of Light loves and cares for each person with infinite grace.

As is clear by even a modest survey of the literature of foreign nations past and contemporary, the virtue of humility is intuitively apparent to all humans, quite independent of religious instruction. So it is not surprising Christ has sought to cover His arrogance with a claim of humility. But after all, hypocrisy is the tribute vice pays to virtue.