Against the cult of education and intelligence in the Church

JMSmith is incorrect in thinking that any good could come from a relaxation of the ancient discipline of clerical celibacy. Anything that moves the Church toward the world, anything that will make the faith of our grandparents seem more alien to our grandchildren, should be dismissed for this reason alone. Anyway, as long as the religion preached is all-are-welcome Vatican Twoism, we’re not going to be attracting manly married priests like the Orthodox ones with big beards; we’re going to be get married priests like the Episcopalian ones (not the good, African, ones; the rainbow American ones).

That’s actually not the main thing I want to talk about. Something came up in that discussion, though, that I want to focus on. I mean this idea that 1) priests should be smarter than most of their congregation, and 2) this will make us respect them more. I suppose 2 is an argument for 1. I disagree with 1, but more importantly, although 2 might be factually true, it should not be true. If it is true, it means we need to correct our prejudices. Being a priest is a vocation like fatherhood (from which we take its title) not a job; it’s what a man is, not what he does, and respect for fathers is certainly not conditional on their intelligence. Insofar as it is a job, though, a priest’s job is to confect the Eucharist and grant absolution in the confessional. Why should this job require ministers with particularly high intelligence? One might say that one minor, unimportant clerical task, composing homilies, requires intelligence, but since innovation and creativity are demerits when teaching the faithful, and are the distinct temptations of the too-smart-for-his-own-good, I think a low-intelligence homilist is actually preferable. I think the real reason we think we need smart priests is because in our managerial society, intelligence (of the historically anomalous, abstract kind measured by IQ tests) is considered the measure of a man’s worth. Intelligence constitutes “merit”, and “stupid” is the great insult. That, and because we think that Christianity is a frightfully complicated thing, where doctrines are always “developing” into their opposites through a logic only those with PhDs can understand.

In fact, what we actually revere is not even intelligence itself but our Wizard-of-Oz proxy for it: educational credentials. Consider how a political party will boast of being favored by “educated” voters, when it would never boast of being favored by the aristocracy or capitalists. The latter, whatever their merits, clearly are also distinct social classes with interests which might not align with the rest of the population, so their approval naturally prompts skepticism in those with unaligned interests. We often forget that the credentialed are also a distinct class with distinct interests. One of their interests is to pass off their sort of knowledge or shibboleths as the highest or truest knowledge. It’s remarkable to think that until the Managerial Revolution a hundred years ago, training with abstractions was not expected in the ruling classes. Certainly not in kings, aristocrats or politicians, but not even in successful business owners, and certainly not in parish priests. The authority of bishops on matters of faith was grounded in apostolic succession and manifest loyalty to Tradition, not to any presumed expertise or wisdom. Vatican Twoism is a managerial religion, ruled by those with purported theological expertise. Liberals and Vatican Twoists revere college degrees and professional status, and they despise the trades/farming/laboring/servant classes, who are not “educated”.

This reproduction of the world’s status hierarchy in the Church will not last, because slowly but surely Christians are being expelled from “higher education” and all of the professional classes. This is clearly the purpose of DEI loyalty oaths and the HR apparatchiks. It’s an imperfect filter right now–one can imagine cases of orthodox Christians who are either members of recognized minority groups or feel a calling to work with such groups and could write honest and compelling DEI statements. Such cases are clearly holes that will be plugged as the years pass and the vice tightens. In fact, anti-Christian Leftist uniformity has already been nearly achieved in many fields, and all college programs beyond the associate’s degree and all professions are clearly tending in this direction.

What, then, will the Church of the future look like? Assuming it survives at all, it will be a Church with almost no one among the university-credentialed or professional classes. This does not mean that the faithful will be uniformly poor or uneducated; small-business owners and tradesmen can sometimes do quite well for themselves and can have more true knowledge of the world than blue-haired sociology majors. In order to thrive, the Church must not reproduce the world’s status hierarchy but must actually invert it. Having a college education should be at least mildly embarrassing, being the mark of a sucker who fell for the college loan scam and as a weak-minded conformist, and those who make a living manipulating symbols should be considered inferior to those who make a more honest living manipulating things. In particular, we of the university/professional class should have no pretensions of leading or “guiding” our non-college credentialed peers. We have certain skills, of an inferior sort, and we should put these at their disposal without imagining ourselves grander than we are.

Deflating the status of credentials is only the first step. Ultimately, we must deflate the prestige of intelligence itself, which is no higher a blessing than physical strength, endurance, or beauty, and is more morally hazardous than these others. I myself was once captivated by a desire to be intelligent and at least not to be thought foolish; it is a good sign that I grow ashamed of this worldly vanity.

Some say that an educated theologian class is needed to keep the Church from drifting into heresy from lack of institutional memory of all the matters that have already been settled by past teaching. Obviously, the theological guild has not served this purpose. Indeed, the idea that we are in need of brilliant or deeply learned theologians is tied to the idea that doctrine should “develop”. Determining what is the traditional teaching requires no great feat of erudition or reasoning; difficult mental acrobatics are only needed to “develop” the doctrine to prove that it means the opposite of what it says and has always been understood to mean. There is also the idea of exegesis, that the Bible is so difficult a text that only those with PhDs can be trusted to make sense of it. If “development” is the trick used to convince Catholics to surrender Church dogma, “exegesis” is the trick used to trick Protestants into thinking that only a special caste is qualified to interpret Scripture. A bit of Luther’s spirit would not be inappropriate if directed at this idea. To sum up, could those without college degrees possibly do a worse job preserving orthodoxy than those with college degrees have done?

In any case, whether losing access to the universities and professions is a good or a bad thing doesn’t matter. It’s happening. The only question is whether we accept a hostile class’s claim to superiority.

22 thoughts on “Against the cult of education and intelligence in the Church

  1. How much ‘education’ is really miseducation or even diseducation? Is intelligence unlimited…perhaps a surplus in abstraction implies a deficit elsewhere? I’d be regarded by my community as having been academically and professionally quite successful, but still find myself astonished at how monumentally stupid I have been, at various times, in the course of my life.

    Thank you for a great post.

    • Good to see you back in these parts, mickvet. We had planned to go to Ireland this summer, bit then a couple of sons decided to get married.

      • Congratulations to all concerned.

        I’m always lurking around. However, I’m usually on my ancient iPad and it can’t cope very well with WordPress.

  2. This is a debate we have had before.  It comes down to the difference between institutional and personal authority.  The first comes from credentials, a badge, a title, a uniform.  The second comes from charisma in the old sense of that word.   It is natural leadership, the power to inspire trust and attract followers.

    Both sorts of authority can be counterfeited, but counterfeit charisma cannot be mass-produced.  So, as you say, we mass-produce educational credentials and turn our armies of Tin Men who still do not have any brains to speak of.

    Ordination looks from the outside like credentialing.  A giant bureaucracy gives a man a credential, a badge, a title, and a uniform.  But, unlike the graduate of a university, the success of this man’s performance in his most important tasks—confection of the eucharist and absolution—must be taken entirely on faith.  We ask Tin-Man graduates to perform tasks that reveal the true meaning of their credential, but ask priests to perform tasks that, apart from their theatrical aspects, have no results that we can see.  Our only assurance that the priest is has a 100 percent success rate comes from the bureaucracy that credentialed him in the first place.

    This places a very high demand on faith, so it is natural for a layman to look for additional grounds for confidence in this man.  Him seeming not to be a fool is one such grounds.  Humans find it difficult to feel confident in a fool.  I suppose an untrafideist would applaud this as an additional test of faith, but most men become Doubting Thomas at some point.  As Ronald Regan said of Soviet adherence to arms-reduction treaties, they want to “trust, but verify.”

    I am not calling for egg-head priests.  There is a point not very high on the IQ spectrum when the confidence of ordinary people begins to fall.  I do not wish to hear homilies bristling with academic jargon.  There are already too many priest who appear to think they are professors of sociology, or psychology, or some other profane art.  I wish to give ordinary laymen who are not gifted with absolute faith some homely reasons to feel confident that the fellow in the surplice is the real deal.  This means selecting for personal authority, or charisma.

    • Ordination looks from the outside like credentialing.

      However, it is not.

      I’ll see your “by their fruits ye shall know them,” and raise you a “we walk by faith not by sight”

      Are you on the inside or the outside? I hope you are on the inside, but if you’re on the outside could you just leave us alone please?

      • You are expressing what I call in the comment ultrafideism. I suppose the most ultra form of ultrafiedism would be faith in ordinations for which there is absolutely no evidence apart from the ordination itself. Such priests would exhibit no outward signs of faith, hope, charity, or even interest in the Catholic religion. But they would have that credential from the bishop, and that would be more than enough.

        “Walking by faith” means seeing and loving what the Church calls “fruits of the spirit.” These fruits grow and may be savored in this world, although those who “walk by sight” do not see or savor them. If you or I are truly bearing “fruits of the spirit,” we are bearing them in this world and not in some parallel universe.

        Faith is belief that goes beyond the evidence. This is to say that its certainty of the truth of the belief is greater than the evidence would warrant on strictly philosophical grounds. Ultrafideism is belief in the absence of evidence, or even in the teeth of overwhelming evidence to the contrary. I think ultrafideism is unhealthy and unnecessary because those who in fact “walk by faith” do in fact bear visible fruit.

        When you get to know a really good Christian of whatever confession, you spontaneously feel that you want to have more of whatever it is that they have. They are attractive. They have charisma. Perhaps an ultrafideist can do without this, but I think most ordinary people prefer to follow an “attractive” man. I don’t mean that he is good looking, but that he has something more than a piece of paper.

        When Jesus gathered his disciples, he just said “follow me.” He waited a long time to show his credentials as the Son of God–and even then, these were visible credentials. He did not just say, “trust me,” he inspired trust. At the power to inspire trust is the true meaning of charisma.

      • Shouldn’t those who receive sacraments from the priest be where we should look for these fruits of the spirit?

      • I suppose the most ultra form of ultrafiedism would be faith in ordinations for which there is absolutely no evidence apart from the ordination itself.

        Step 1: rule out the opponent’s evidence as not true evidence.

        Step 2: accuse the opponent of being an ultrafideist because he has no evidence for his belief.

      • I thought your position is that “fruits” don’t matter if the credentials are correct. I would say that “fruits” lend credence to the credential, and that the absence of “fruits” casts doubt on the credential. So I am a Doubting Thomas who will feel better if I can touch the wound. Your faith is stronger–you are an ultrafiedist. Or I should say that your faith is not only stronger, but that you also think a stronger faith is better. That’s closer to what I mean by ultrafideist. You’re welcome to call me a doubting Thomas, since that is what I am. Not Denying Thomas, Doubting.

      • I think the problem is the opposite–that if priests were exceptionally charismatic and astute, this would be no evidence whatsoever that their sacraments are valid. The evidence you want isn’t even evidence.

      • Astute is more than I ask. In the original post, I said above average in their parish. I think that is a standard most reach right now, but not all. Commenters here routinely pounce on me for deviant opinions. If the Church had more priests, and better, these lost souls would not have to look to some rando on the internet for their supply of pure doctrine.

        And, as I keep saying, charisma does not mean Father Life-Of-The-Party. It means the power to inspire trust. I am not actually taking the infidel position that extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence. My position is that extraordinary claims should not be made to appear more incredible than they actually are. The more implausible the message, the more plausible the messenger must be. No one believes a weird story that is told by a weirdo.

      • You’re welcome to call me a doubting Thomas, since that is what I am. Not Denying Thomas, Doubting.

        I can’t tell whether we’re even talking about the same thing. It’s not very entertaining to define your terms, but maybe that’s the problem.

        You did say before that you don’t believe in apostolic succession, which I thought was a denial. Are you simply denying that ordination ensures that a man will be virtuous and bear good fruit? I deny that as well. Neither does receiving the Body and Blood of Christ force a person to be good. In some cases, as St. Paul teaches, it does almost the exact opposite, confirming them in their vice.

      • I think that more evidence is better than less evidence, although I do accept some doctrines on the basis of less evidence than I would like (i.e. by “faith”). I apologize if this is a caricature, but what I am calling an ultrafideist thinks that, in certain matters of faith, less evidence is better than more evidence because the quantum of faith is higher. I grant that the an ultrafideist can back this opinion with more than one highly authoritative scriptural passage, John 20:29 especially. Jesus tells Thomas that those who believe on faith alone are “blessed,” but he also makes clear that those who like more evidence are not cursed. So there is really no need for ultrafideists (or fideists, if you prefer) and Doubting Thomases to quarrel. Jesus makes it very clear that the faith of Thomas may not be “blessed,” but neither is it an invalid faith.

        “Apostolic succession” can be taken in two senses. In one sense, all Christians are part of the apostolic succession because the faith has been handed down to us in a tradition that began with the Apostles. The word tradition means to hand down, just as the word trade means to hand over, and no one denies that the faith has been handed down (actually, some people do deny this, but they are a distraction). In another sense, Apostolic Succession refers to claims of valid ordination–the question of who has authority in Christ’s Church. In the Roman Catholic tradition, valid ordination entails the authority and power to forgive sin and confect the eucharist. I don’t think anyone denies that God is the actual authority behind these acts, but the Roman Catholic doctrine is that some men have been, as it were, “deputized” by God. You and I only disagree over what counts as a deputy’s badge.

  3. P.S.  I meant to add that we humans naturally afford higher trust to people who look and talk like ourselves.  This trust is often misplaced, but the underlying cause is not hard to understand.  We are wary around a foreigner because, as Kipling said, we “cannot read his mind.”  I have seen charismatic foreign priests in action, but their inspiration of trust was an uphill battle.  I have seen more uncharismatic foreign priests, and expect to see more.  As I said above, the authority of a priest makes very high demands on faith under the best of circumstances.  When the priest is a subnormal foreigner who talks funny, the demands of faith are insupportable.

  4. The original Christian presbyters were selected neither for their educational accomplishments nor their personal charisma, but for their known and proven trustworthiness. They were lifelong members of the communities they oversaw, who had earned the respect of all. There were no young ambitious hotshots fresh out of seminary with their heads stuffed with the latest idiotic theologies. Presbyters were functionaries expected to carry out their functions competently. That’s all they were, and all they should be.

    • What you describe is charisma in the old sense of the word. It is a natural ability to inspire trust and attract followers. It did not mean “life of the party” or “big man on campus.” The intelligence part of ordinary charisma is: smart enough not to screw it up, but not smart enough to screw me over. An effective salesman cannot, for instance, be too stupid or too smart.

      • Okay, I stand corrected. It was the word “charisma” that threw me off. When I think of a “charismatic” leader I think of Jim Jones — he’s not the kind of guy I want running things in my parish!

    • Ancient Romans distrusted entrusting ultimate leadership to the charismatic, and Gaius Julius Caesar became the object reminder/booster shot. The Church inherited that bias in its administration. That bias was in the water.

  5. While it is certainly true that the cult of credentialism has to die, I would not be so quick to dismiss the importance of intelligence. It seems inarguable that having the intelligence to design or evaluate more efficient ways of doing things can have an outsized impact on productivity. Even in the Church, the standard argument for intelligence is that it can be used to help explain things in new contexts, in the light of changes in society and new technologies (e.g. the Pill). Unmoored from faith and love for Our Lord it is certainly very destructive, as we have seen, but I’d be careful about throwing the baby out with the bathwater.

Comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.