One
of my
favorite poems is James Russell Lowell’s Once
to Every Man and Nation:
Once to every man and
nation, comes the moment to decide,
In the strife of truth with falsehood, for the good or evil side;
Some great cause, some great decision, offering each the bloom or
blight,
And the choice goes by forever, ’twixt that darkness and that light.
Then to side with truth
is noble, when we share her wretched
crust,
Ere her cause bring fame and profit, and ’tis prosperous to be just;
Then it is the brave man chooses while the coward stands aside,
Till the multitude make virtue of the faith they had denied.
By the light of burning
martyrs, Christ, Thy bleeding feet we
track,
Toiling up new Calv’ries ever with the cross that turns not back;
New occasions teach new duties, time makes ancient good uncouth,
They must upward still and onward, who would keep abreast of truth.
Though the cause of
evil prosper, yet the truth alone is strong;
Though her portion be the scaffold, and upon the throne be wrong;
Yet that scaffold sways the future, and behind the dim unknown,
Standeth God within the shadow, keeping watch above His own.
You
can, I suppose, see how the poem applies to this class.
Those with the will to truth stand boldly
against the relgio of the time, the
established order—and can end up paying with their lives.
The prophetic
voice is a problem for the status quo powers, and both the
Pharisees and
Sadducees, different as they were, had in common their dislike of the
prophetic
voice and its return with Jesus and the apostles. The
questioning tradition of the philosophers
was (on occasion) every bit as disruptive to the status quo and
likewise
aroused intense opposition.
Socrates vs. the Sophists
Now
one would think that, in ancient Athens, the status quo powers would
dislike
most the Sophists, teachers who taught the art of persuasion, teaching
their
students, not how to find truth, but how to win friends and influence
people. “Man is the measure of all
things,” they taught: all truth is essentially subjective, whatever we
want it
to be.
But
the wrath of Athens fell, not on the Sophists, but on a rather
different sort
of teacher, Socrates.
Socrates
in commonly considered one of the greatest teachers who ever lived. But while commonly regarded as a great
teacher, Socrates never wrote a book or published an article. He never had a paid teaching position. He never took a dime for his teaching. And, if he were brought back to life today,
he couldn't get a job teaching at Harvard, Stanford, or NSU. He lacked the appropriate certification! There is certainly something wrong with a
system that would hire Art Marmorstein and not Socrates or Jesus!
The Socratic Method
Socrates
was important for lots of different things.
First of all, he was important for his method, a method we call
"dialectic" (through words, dialogue) or "elenchus"
refutation. Essentially, Socrates would
ask for a definition of an important idea (bravery, beauty, piety,
justice,
etc.). He would then ask questions that
would show weaknesses in the definition.
Then there would be a new definition, and, again, a series of
questions
showing why that definition also came up short.
The
result of all this is sometimes frustrating.
In "Euthyphro," a dialogue I used to ask my students to read,
the topic discussed is piety. One can finish the dialogue in an hour or
so--but, after reading the entire dialogue, there isn't, in the end,
any
satisfactory definition of what piety is.
Now,
at first it might seem that Socrates is moving in the Sophist
direction: there
is no truth. But what's really happening
here is that Socrates insists that there are two kinds of truths. Some can be learned easily, just by
definition. When did Constantinople fall
to the Turks? 1453. An
easiest enough thing to learn. But other
truths don't work this way. One cannot
learn what justice is just by
having a definition. And the same things
goes for any of the "higher"
truths. But by looking at things from
one perspective, and then another, and then another, one gradually gets
a
better and better understanding of what that thing is all about.
[This, by the
way, is one of the many reasons outcome-based
education is such a tragedy, particularly when applied university level
education. Outcome- based evaluations can only measure mastery of relatively trivial kinds of issues, not the
higher-level questions a university education should be about. And only a rather ignorant sort of person
would think that what you are supposed to be gettting out of your
general
education classes can be measured by something like the CAAP exam. So why did we get things like the CAAP? Brought in on ourselves, we did.
As university humanities and social science
courses drifted back to the Sophist relative morality and relative
truth, the
people picking up the tab for higher education weren't very happy: not
much
point paying for courses that didn't seem to lead anywhere. Man is the measure of all things has been
replace by the idea that quantiative data is the measure of all things.]
Socratic ethics
Socrates
was also important for his answer to the "right makes right"
philosophy that had begun to dominate Athens and went hand in hand with
the
Sophist world view. Socrates explains
that, whenever we harm another human being, we put a blot on our soul. Now the Greek word we translate as "soul"
is "psyche," a word we also translate as "mind." When
one harms another person, violating what
we call the Golden Rule, one is violating, not just a moral principle,
but a
logical principle as well. And what this means is, that, when we harm
another,
we end up not being able to think clearly anymore, and, especially, we
don't
think clearly in that area in which we have done the harm.
Take,
for instance, that lowest of all types of human being, the seducer, the
kind of
man who gets a woman in bed by telling her he loves her when all he
really
wants is a night's fun. One thinks that
it is the woman who is hurt most in such a situation.
But, Socrates would argue, the man has hurt
himself even more. He has put a blot on his soul, that is, on his mind. He will not be able to think clearly--and,
particularly, he will not be able to think clearly about the
relationship
between men and women. And he will end
up...well, he'll end up as people always do when they insist that black
is
white, night is day, evil is good: making self-destructive mistake
after
mistake--and, really, no true human being at all.
The Apology—Plato’s version
In
399 BC, Socrates was put on trial in Athens and condemned to death: in
many
ways, a puzzling event. Socrates is an
old man, and it’s hard to see exactly what harm he was causing. The charges against him were somewhat vague:
he was teaching gods other than those believed in by the state, and he
was
corrupting the youth.
Socrates
himself says, however, that what he really has to fight against is old
slanders
against him, false impressions created by people like the comic
playwright
Aristophanes.
Now
it’s likely enough than many people in Athens did form their view of
Socrates
from the character in Aristophanes’ The Clouds rather than from
the real
Socrates. Certainly the particular
accusations against Socrates fit the Aristophanes character somewhat
better
than they do the real Socrates.
But
driving the case against Socrates was really something else entirely,
and the
Apology shows pretty clearly what it was.
Socrates
indicates that his mission in life had been to figure out what Apollo’s
oracle
at Delphi meant when it said that no-one was wiser than Socrates. Surely he was not a particularly wise man:
there must be someone wiser. So Socrates
began to question those who had a reputation for wisdom to see if they
were any
wiser than he. And, again and again, he
showed them wanting. Certainly a guy
like this would irritate self-important people, and, when young people
began to
imitate Socrates method, that would have been even more annoying. But bringing capital charges against someone
just because they are annoying? This
hardly makes sense—until one has the historical context.
In
399, Athens was just beginning to recover from its loss of the long
Peloponnesian War, a war that disrupted everything in Athens. There had been enormous strain on Athenian religio.
The Athenians had both suffered horrible things and done
horrible
things. In 416, the had ordered all the
men of Melos killed and all the women and children sold into slavery. After the battle of Arginusae (an Athenian
victory!) the Athenians had put their own generals on trial for
negligence and
condemned some of them to death. Following the war, in 404 BC, the
“Thirty
Tyrants” took control in Athens. At one
point, these men tried to get others fully committed to their cause by
compelling them to seize and slaughter metics, resident aliens of
Athens. Socrates had happened to be on the
“boule”
when the generals were condemned and had refused to go along with the
plan. Likewise he had refused to go
along with the 30 tyrants.
Socrates
had offended both the democrats and the aristocrats with these
refusals,
refusing to be a champion of injustice.
Socrates describes his own role as being that of a gadfly—but
useful in
helping the Athenians get on the right track.
Is he the one destroying religio?
On the contrary, he deserves a government stipend for his services. When he is gone, the challenges to the status
quo are going to be a lot worse.
Socrates
Apology—Xenophon’s Version
Xenophon
wasn’t present at Socrates trial, but he has given us an account of the
trial
based on what had been told him by a man named Hermogenes.
Xenophon’s account emphasizes somewhat more
Socrates’ claims to have lived an exemplary life and explains a bit
more why
Socrates chose the kind of defense he did.
Socrates’ claims that he didn’t need to put any special
preparation into
his defense because had been preparing for that defense his whole life:
the
divine voice had stopped him from proceeding when he thought he might
plan a
bit more carefully his words. Notice a
hint of Jesus’ instruction to his disciples about not preparing their
defense
ahead of time: an interesting parallel.
In
many ways, the much later trials of Christians parallel
the trial and death of Socrates. They
also had the problem of “former accusers,” and, whenever they were put
on
trial, they had to deal with judges prejudiced against the—in this
case, by
accusations much farther from the truth than anything Socrates’ jurors
had
heard about the great philosopher.
So
what had Roman officials heard?
The
rumor mill said that Christians were a political problem.
They wouldn’t swear an oath of allegiance to the emperor as a god, the
equivalent of not saying the flag salute.
To a people worried about political stability and sometimes
invasion
from without, Christian failure to support the emperor’s divinity meant
political disunity and potential trouble.
Likewise,
the rumors depicted the Christians as horribly
immoral people. Pagans believed
Christians practiced incest and cannibalism.
They also believed that Christians were atheists and haters of
mankind.
The first
imperial persecutions
The
Book of Acts suggests that, at first, Roman authorities
were pretty much indifferent to Christianity.
When the Jews at Corinth complain about the Christians, the
Roman
governor (Gallio) is annoyed at the disturbance and order Sosthenes
(the leader
of the synagogue) to be beaten for bringing such a trivial issue before
him.
A
change came with the emperor Nero. Nero,
who had been blamed for starting a fire
that destroyed much of Rome, needed a scapegoat. He
blamed the Christians, and began punishing
them as if they really were responsible.
He killed most of the leaders (including Peter and Paul) and put
the
Christian to horribly cruel deaths. If
the Christians were allowed to speak in their own defense, to give
their
“apologies” we don’t know what they said: though, of the Book of Acts
itself
was possibly written just before this, in part to defend Christianity
as no
threat to Roman officials.
Under
Nero and Domitian (a slightly later emperor)
Christianity became, at least potentially, a death penalty offense. Nero, of course, was something of a madman,
as was Domitian. But once Christianity
was officially a crime, it proved enormously difficult to get it
decriminalized. Good emperors and good
officials persecuted the Christians too.
But they went about it differently, following proper legal
procedure and
giving at least the Christians who had citizenship an opportunity to
defend
themselves: to come up with a defense: an apology.
Justin Martyr
And
so, finally, after much, much introductory material, we
are finally getting to what this course is about: that combination of
philosophy,
Christian doctrine, and (in the early stages) legal defense that
constitute
apologetics.
One
of the first of these apologetic works is that of Justin
who we differentiate from other Justins by calling “the martyr,” e.g.,
the
witness.
Justin
(AD 100—165?) was born in Palestine to pagan parents.
He studied the philosophers (the Stoics, Aristotelians, Platonists,
etc.) constantly
searching for truth—but becoming more than a bit frustrated. And then
an old
man introduced him to the prophets--and Justin became a fervent
convert. He
believed that in Christianity he had found the true philosophy. He
moved to
Rome, and started a school. He attracted
converts, but also opposition. Crescens,
a rival philosopher who still defended pagan tradition, eventually
resorted to
political measures to silence Justin, bringing capital charges against
him.
Justin’s
defense is addressed to Antoninus Pius, the 4th
of the five “good emperor,” a well-educated man, much interested in
philosophy. As a result, Justin can make
his defense confident that there will be at attempt to understand his
ideas.
Justin
insists that it is unjust for Christians to be
punished just for a name. Their accusers
ought to come up with specific criminal charges. Justin
then goes on to refute the general
misunderstandings of Christians. Are
they atheists? Only in the sense that
Socrates was an atheist. The Christians
do refuse to worship demons, but they aren’t godless: they worship the
one true
god.
Are they politically
disloyal? No. The
kingdom they talk of is not of this
world, and Jesus specifically commanded his followers to submit to
secular
authority: render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s.
Do
they practice incest and cannibalism? Quite
the reverse: they follow strict moral
standards.
Justin
quotes extensively from the Sermon on the Mount, using
Christ’s teaching as a defense against charges of immorality.
And
then, Justin turns the tables on his accusers, condemning
practices that had become all too common in Rome: infanticide, child
prostitution, etc. Justin also goes on
at length about pagan religion as the work of devils.
As
evidence for the truth of Christianity, Justin points to a
long and impressive list of Old Testament scriptures fulfilled by
Christ.
And if these things seem to you to
be reasonable and true, honour them; but if they seem nonsensical,
despise them
as nonsense, and do not decree death against those who have done no
wrong, as
you would against enemies. For we forewarn you, that you shall not
escape the
coming judgment of God, if you continue in your injustice; and we
ourselves
will invite you to do that which is pleasing to God.
All very reasonable. And yet, still, Justin is condemned to
death. But, like Socrates, he seems, if
anything to welcome condemnation and martyrdom, and he would well have
understood Lowell’s words:
Though the cause of evil prosper, yet the
truth alone is strong;
Though her portion be the scaffold, and upon the throne be wrong;
Yet that scaffold sways the future, and behind the dim unknown,
Standeth God within the shadow, keeping watch above His own.