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Monday, 6 November 2017

ALL VOLTAIRE"S FAULT? (OR, COME BACK, WILL BLAKE)




(A friend reminded me of Voltaire, Rousseau, and Blake: this conversation is hardly new. And in France, “C’est la faute à Voltaire” is an old expression, probably as old as the Revolution.)

The award-winning French daily La Croix, reporting on the current meeting at Lourdes of the French Catholic Church’s bishops, mentioned how different the situation now is from that of 50-100 years ago. Then, the problem was anticlericalism: the Church was seen by many as the Enemy, to be reviled, resisted and refused. Now, on the other hand, the problem is indifference.
After a month’s travelling in the United States and Canada, and now returned to la République française, I find myself agreeing ruefully with this statement. Quite apart from political situations and the public personæ driving them – a play with strong characters, a chaotic plot and no visible playwright – I see everywhere human situations of need, urgency, grief, pain and sorrow that cry out for faith where no faith is.
Let me be clear. I do not mean that faith is, in the simple and especially in the simplistic sense, the solution. Where grief strikes or pain, faith will not make them go away. But faith will let such moments, such events, be lived in another fashion, another context, another dimension. Faith lets them be lived in a context of prayer – perhaps even of rebellious and angry prayer, but prayer: which means the context of a relation. In a number of languages there exists a proverb like “A sorrow shared is a sorrow halved”; and it is true that sharing a grief with a true friend lightens the burden. Hence, might sharing it with the loving Father of All not lighten it dramatically?
And yet when I look around me I find that increasingly (and more perhaps in France than in America), having faith is looked upon benignly as an idiosyncrasy, a hobby or what the French call une passion: X does old cars, Y collects stamps, Z does religion. Doubtless such pursuits give X,Y, and Z profound satisfaction, but they are best kept to oneself and not shared with (“forced on”) others. Faith is emphatically not seen as something one needs, still less something the world needs. One gets along perfectly well without it, and looking at Islam gives one less than perfect sympathy for those who live by it, let alone a desire to do so. At best, one is sometimes told, “Yes, well, you have faith: I don’t. That’s just the way it is; sometimes I wish I had it, but I just don’t.” End of subject. Faith, in other words, is something you have or you don’t, like blue eyes: the condition, whether of having or lacking, is definitive and beyond one’s control. And (it is intimated) much the best that way. 
What is one to answer to this? The Church tells us, daily, weekly, monthly and yearly, that we must be disciples and missionaries; but it carefully stops there. And all of us know that in the fairly sophisticated and utterly indifferent world in which we live, move, and have our being, trumpeting the Good News to one’s neighbours will be neither welcome nor efficacious.
There is another way, also favoured by the Church. Be merciful, it says; tirelessly do good to and for others; and even without your mentioning your faith, people will start asking themselves and others what on earth makes you tick? And that can be an opening into the subject.  Unfortunately, I have never seen this happen in real life: the indifferent are not indifferent to good works, but do not question their fons et origo. “She is a truly good woman,” they will say; but they don’t ask what makes her so.

On the other side of the picture you have those who do have faith but give it a bad name. These are to be found in many denominations, from Pentecostal to Roman Catholic. They are absolutely sure of their dogma, which they use as a sledge-hammer to beat their opponents with. They relish combat because it is, as they see it, for Christ. In analogy with “Islamists” I call them Christianists. They do untold harm. They insult and injure for Christ; they threaten and malign for Christ; and sometimes they kill for Christ and gleefully urge their government to do so. They create scornful atheists wherever they go.
So those of us who have faith -- though never enough: “Lord, I believe: help thou mine unbelief” – faith riddled with doubt, faith skating on uncertainty – walk very quietly on the whole, between the Christianist cannon on the one hand and the Indifferent desert on the other, hoping against hope that somehow, sometime, God will do something --  appear on CNN, call Time, throw Kremlin, Tienanmen and White House into the ocean and declare Playtime Over. When disaster happens – Irma, Maria, terrorist attacks, high-rise fires – we react with surprising and touching kindness and even, sometimes,  efficiency; but overall we don’t give the impression of believing that faith and prayer are either essential or a Good Thing in this world.
Perhaps we need to feel more confident. Perhaps we need to stop confusing attitudes to religion with attitudes to sex. Perhaps we need to speak up more. Not to yank others by the shirtfront and yell at them, but to tell the world that we are eyewitnesses – not to that Event two millennia ago, but to the mercies, the spiritual gifts, the joy even in grief, that we personally have received. Eyewitnesses to the good that intelligent charity, discerningly directed love, does. Eyewitnesses to the evil that humiliation brings, whether humiliation of persons or of countries.
After all, those of us old enough to remember the falling of the Berlin Wall know that we had a chance to turn with discernment and charity to Russia and to one Vladimir Putin, and we threw it away. Our great-grandparents had a chance to turn with discernment and charity to a defeated Germany in 1918 and instead gave it the Treaty of Versailles. Even today, we have the chance to approach with discernment, charity and brotherhood the millions of young Iranians who look to us and their sometimes approachable government; we perhaps have a tiny chance left to approach that strange young man in Pyongyang to deal with him without naiveté but without humiliation.
And always, always, the basic force that moves our world – our micro-world and our macro-world – is prayer. With prayer, anything is possible. Without it, nothing profound or lasting is. Shit still happens; God does not micromanage; but we need not be helpless in the face of it.


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