An American Proto-Fascist Presbyterian Church

Mixing religion and politics can be a dangerous business, especially if done from the pulpit and backed up by fully-weaponized police poised in a worship space at the laity in the pews, and from the front so the congregants know they are being intensely watched even as the words, “Peace on earth” are shown on the big screen directly above one of the uniformed police employees. To my utter astonishment, I encountered just this scenario when I visited a large Presbyterian church in the U.S. early in 2026. A Christian who has read the Gospels might look askance at the weaponized, uniformed police in the sanctuary who were facing the people from near the front, and the television cameramen who were standing on the stage even very close to the altar, and think of Jesus castigating the money-changers and sacrifice-animal sellers operating inside the temple.

During the piano prelude, a cameraman hangs out near the altar.

A uniformed, fully-weaponized local police employee at the front-left of the altar faced and stared at the people in the pews throughout the service, except, interestingly, during the sermon. 

The full essay is at "An American Proto-Fascist Presbyterian Church."

Educating Scholarly Priests: The Cult at Yale

Speaking at a Bhakti-Yoga conference in March, 2025 at Harvard, Krishma Kshetra Swami said that scholars who are devoted to the academic study of religion are also undoubtedly also motivated by their religious faith, even if it is of a religion other than what the scholar is studying. The Swami himself was at the time both a scholar of Hinduism and a Krishna devotee. He was essentially saying that his academic study of Hinduism was motivated not just by the pursuit of knowledge, but also by (his) faith. He also stated that he, like the rest of us in daily life, typically separated his various identities, including that of a professor and a devotee of the Hindu god, Krishna. Although his two roles not contradictory in themselves, a scholar’s own religious beliefs, if fervently held, can act as a magnet of sorts by subtly swaying the very assumptions that a scholar holds about the phenomenon of religion (i.e., the knowledge in the academic discipline). To be sure, personally-held ideology acts with a certain gravity on any scholar’s study in whatever academic field. Religious studies, as well as political science, by the way, are especially susceptible to the warping of reasoning by ideology because beliefs can be so strongly held in religion (and politics), and the impact of such gravity can easily be missed not only by other people, but also by the scholars themselves.  

The full essay is at "Educating Scholarly Priests."

Conservatism in the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles

The Quorum is a high-level governing body in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The Quorum “helps set church policy while overseeing the many business interests of what is known widely as the Mormon Church.”[1] On December 27, 2025, Jeffrey R. Holland, “a high-ranking official . . . who was next in line to become the faith’s president,” died.[2] He was 85. To be at that age and yet next in line to lead a major Christian denomination is a sign of just how tilted toward the elderly the leadership of that Church was at the time. Almost exactly three months earlier, Russell M. Nelson, the then-sitting president of the denomination, died at the age of 101. Dallin H. Oaks, at the age of 93, became the next president. These ages make 75, the mandatory retirement age for Roman Catholic bishops, look young, though Pope John Paul II died at 84 and Pope Francis died at 88—both men while in office. Especially in Christianity, whose Gospels depict Jesus and his disciples as much younger men, the question of whether an aged leadership unduly foists conservatism on what in the Gospels is characterized as a radical religious movement.

In 2020, a group of researchers put the old adage that people tend to become more conservative as they age to the test. Contrary to the folk adage, the study found that political attitudes tend to be stable over time; however, when attitudes do change, “liberals are more likely to become conservatives than conservatives are to become liberals, suggesting that folk wisdom has some empirical basis even though it overstates the degree of change.”[3] Regarding religion, research indicates people tend to become more religious as they age, but this doesn’t answer the question of whether a person’s religious beliefs become more conventional or orthodox within a religious institution as the person ages. Simply put, are older people in a congregation more likely to “upset the apple cart.” To the extent that living through decades has a thickening effect on the idealism of the youth because the inertia of status quo, whether of an organization or a society, is difficult to move, even with a faith that can move mountains.

As a complication, the influx of social ideology (e.g., social issues) into the religious domain can make orthodox religious believers seem more or less conservative. I have argued elsewhere that the overreaching of social ideology onto the religious domain minimizes or ignores the sui generis nature of both domains. Based on the study on political ideology changing over time as a person ages, it seems reasonable to posit that a person’s social ideology is most likely to stay constant, but when it changes, it is more likely to get more conservative. It is important not to omit the possibility, however, that very old people can surprise us and actually shake things up a bit in leading a religious organization.

Russell Nelson “was revered as a prophet” even though he was “the oldest serving head of the church” when he died at 101.[4] If the label of prophet resembles the prophets in the Hebrew scriptures, the implication is that Nelson spoke truth to power. It may be going too far to say that his time at the helm of the denomination “will forever be remembered as one of . . . profound change” because he emphasized global ministry and increased temple construction.[5] The need to temper the magnitude of the change reflects the empirical results of the study on changes in political attitudes discussed above. For instance, in 2019, when Nelson was in his mid-90s, “the church made a surprise move . . . by pledging to roll back a series of anti-LGBT policies introduced in 2015 that had reportedly led to 1,500 people leaving the [denomination] in protest.”[6] That the motivation to roll back the anti-gay policies may have had something to do with the loss of membership, and thus money, tempers the magnitude of the shift in the social ideology in the Church’s leadership. Attention to finances can itself be construed as conservative. Furthermore, reversing the ban on children of same-sex parents being baptized and the expulsion of gay members who are married are not as surprising as the announcement that the denomination would perform gay-marriage ceremonies would have been.

That rolling back two policies does not count as profound change is also supported by the fact that just two years later, Holland gave a speech “in which he called on church members to take up metaphorical muskets in defense of the faith’s teaching against same-sex marriage.”[7] That the speech “became required reading for BYU freshmen in 2024” is itself an indication that the social ideology in the Church’s governing body and leadership had not changed.

That both Nelson and Holland opposed homosexuality even as two policies were rolled back does not mean that those men had become more conservative, and that were younger men in charge, the Church’s stance on the social issue would have been more progressive in 2019. Therefore, this case study should not be used to argue that because Jesus and his disciples are characterized as middle-aged in the Gospels, Christian denominations should be led by young or middle-aged people or else the radicalism of the movement in the Gospels can be expected to be hampered by old men at the helm. In fact, that Nelson did so much—albeit not necessarily of profound change—in the last decade of his life in leading his denomination qualifies the typical assumption that people over 85 should be put out to pasture because they cannot possibly make a difference, whether to an organization or a society.

Nevertheless, the finding that when political attitudes do change as a person ages, most often this results in a more conservative ideology, means that young and middle-aged people can be included at the highest level of an organization so to counteract or balance out the admittedly mitigated tendency. In other words, the elderly can make contributions as organizational leaders and are not necessarily more conservative than they were, so the need to balance out excessive conservativism, due to age, with younger leaders, is less though it does exist to some extent. The tendency of the elderly to resist giving up some power to younger members is thus something to watch out for in church governance, but the elders need not be replaced altogether as a prerequisite for religious organizations to be able to adapt to a changed environment at least to some extent so to be able to survive. It is not as though a denomination must adopt a progressive social ideology, which I submit is extrinsic through related to religion anyway, in order to survive; rather, the mitigated, or muted, tendency of people to become more conservative with age should itself be countered institutionally in terms of there being ways of including young and middle-aged members at the highest organizational level of leadership and governance. Generally speaking, the tyranny of the status quo should be countered so both change and constancy can have a chance at swaying the day.

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1. CBS News, “Jeffrey R. Holland, Next in Line to Lead Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, Dies at 85,” CBSnews.com, December 27, 2025.
2. Ibid.
3. Johnathan Peterson, Kevin Smith, and John R. Hibbing, “Do People Really Become More Conservative as They Age?” The Journal of Politics, Vol. 82, No. 2 (April, 2020), pp. 600-11.
4. Nadine Yousif, “Russell M. Nelson, Head of Church of Latter-day Saints, Dies Aged 101,” BBC.com, 29 September, 2025.
5. Ibid.
6. Ibid.
7. Ibid.

Divine Presence in Liturgy and Compassion

The medium of film can treat organizational, societal, and global ethical problems either from one standpoint, which is appropriate if the assignment of blame for immoral conduct is clear (e.g., the Nazis), or by presenting both sides of an argument so to prompt the viewers to think about the ethically complex problem. This second approach is useful if it is not clear whether a character or a given conduct is unethical. When it is obvious which characters or actions are unethical, a film can still stimulate ethical reasoning and judgment by drawing attention to unethical systems as distinct from individuals and their respective conduct in the film. The film, Spotlight (2015), which is a true story, takes the position that Roman Catholic priests who molested and raped children in the Boston Archdiocese in Massachusetts behaved ethically. The dramatic tension in the film is set up when the chief editor of the Boston Globe, Liev Schreiber, tells the paper’s investigative “spotlight” managers that the story will not go to press until the system that enabled Cardinal Law and others to cover up many child-rapist priests by transferring them to other parishes is investigated. “We’re going after the system,” Liev says in keeping the story under wraps until the entire informal system that has enabled the rapists to continue to lead parishes.  

The full essay is at "Spotlight."

On the Ethics of Dispensational Pre-Millennialism

The Christian “belief in the ‘rapture’ of believers at the time of Jesus’ return to Earth is rooted in a particular form of biblical interpretation that emerged in the 19^th century. Known as dispensational pre-millennialism, it is especially popular among American evangelicals.”[1] This biblical interpretation is based on the following from one of Paul’s letters to a church:

“For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God; and the dead in Christ shall rise first: Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord.”[2]

Presumably the “trump of God” in the King James version of the Bible is distinct from Trump as God, for that eventuality would raise a myriad of questions and difficulties, and at least two difficulties pertain to the verse and, moreover, to dispensational pre-millennialism as a Christian doctrine. That it was constructed only recently by Christian standards raises the question of why the idea did not dawn on Christians closer to Paul’s time. That Paul does not represent himself in his letters as having met Jesus prior to the Resurrection and Paul’s use of mythological/Revelations language, such as “with the voice of the archangel,” also provide support for not taking the passage literally. After his resurrection in the Gospels, Jesus does not have the voice of an archangel. With Paul’s passage viewed figuratively or symbolically, rather than empirically and literally, the underlying religious meaning would of course remain unperturbed: keeping the faith is of value and thus in holding on to one’s distinctly religious (and Christian) faith, this strength will be vindicated even if no signs of this emerge during a person’s life. In other words, faith in vindication is part of having a religious faith, which is not limited our experience. The Resurrection itself can be construed as vindication with a capital V, regardless of whether Jesus rose from the dead empirically and thus as a historical event. In fact, a historical account or claim is extrinsic to religious narrative even though the sui generis genre can legitimately make selective use of, and even alter, historical reports to make theological points. The writers of the Gospels would have considered this perfectly legitimate, given that they were writing faith narratives and not history books. Making this distinction is vital, I submit, to obviating the risk that one’s theological interpretations lead to supporting unethical state-actors on the world stage, such as Israel, which as of 2025 was serially committing genocidal and perhaps even holocaust crimes against humanity in Gaza. In short, the theological belief that supporting Israel will result in the Second Coming happening sooner than otherwise can be understood to be an unethical stance based on a category mistake. American Evangelical Christians may have been unwittingly enabling another Hitler for the sake of the salvation of Christians, while the Vatican stood by merely making statements rather than acting to help the innocent Palestinians, whether with food and medicine, or in actually going to Gaza’s southern border (or joining the flotilla) to protest as Gandhi would have done.

One problem with dispensational pre-millennialism itself is that predictors keep getting the date wrong, and this may be because a category mistake has been commonly committed between the faith-narrative genre and those of history and empirical science. Joshua Mhlakela, an African, whose dream in 2018 predicted that Jesus would return on September 23^rd or 24, 2025, obviously did not pan out, for I write this essay on September 25, 2025 and the Christians are still with us here below. That the Second Coming presumably comes at the end of time means that today should not exist, which would mean that I am not writing this essay (and you are not reading it). Lest we have slipped into a supercomputer’s Matrix, named after the famous solipsistic movie, other people had predicted the Second Coming, also without success. William Miller, a Baptist pastor, had read the Book of Daniel and the Book of Revelation and concluded that “Jesus would return sometime between March 21, 1843 and March 21, 1844. When this date passed, he recalculated the date several times and finally landed on Oct. 22, 1844.”[3] Similarly, “Ellen G. White, a founder of the Seventh-day Adventist movement” and “Charles Taze Russell, the founder of the Jehovah’s Witnesses, predicted Jesus’ return in 1914. Over time, many others have attempted to predict Jesus’ Second Coming. Harold Camping’s 12 failed predictions being the most famous.”[4] Interestingly, all of these Christians had forgotten “Jesus’ own warning that no one knows the timing of this event (Matthew 24:36).”[5]

Moreover, I contend that applying calculation of empirical events from mythic language involves making a category mistake regarding qualitatively different domains. A person would not try to predict next year’s gross domestic product from calculations based on passages in Revelations, for example. Sometimes it’s easier to recognize category mistakes when they are made from the other direction.

Furthermore, Jesus not only says that no one but the Father (i.e., not even Jesus himself) knows when the last judgment will occur—and notice that Jesus is thus not omniscient by his own admission—but also that “this generation will not pass away” until the Son of Man will come “in the clouds with power and great glory.”[6] It is interesting that Jesus would make any prediction, since he is aware that only the Father knows, but, in any case, even this prediction is wrong. Such an uncomfortable conclusion points back to a conflation of history and myth, two distinct genres and domains, each with its own type of valid meaning that cannot be touched by the other domain even in overreaching.

Besides those problems, dispensational pre-millennialism can lead to rather unethical political and ethical stances. Many Christians “influenced by dispensationalism believe that the re-establishment of Israel and the return of the Jews to Palestine, especially since the 1920s, is a sign that the end is near. The centering of the re-establishment of Israel has important political implications, including unquestioned support for Israeli actions by many evangelicals.”[7] Conflating myth, such as is evinced by the Book of Revelations, and empirical, historical events can give rise to giving even a genocidal regime a blank slate and lots of military hardware. Both politically and ethically, even supporting Israel politically in 2025, when God was supposed to take humanity out of its self-imposed misery even in acting as bystanders, had become deeply problematic—especially ethically. In the Gospels, Jesus would obviously not encourage his disciples to support a genocidal regime even though he does not support the zealots acting against the Romans in the Gospel narratives. Giving what is Caesar’s (i.e., Roman coins) to the Romans does not mean actively supporting Rome. Were the imperator Romanorum to decide in the story to kill every Jew in Judea so to build Roman luxury resorts in and around the Temple in Jerusalem, Jesus would likely urge turning the other cheek and loving the enemies rather than either helping them to kill Jews or fighting the Romans as they do so.

To respond to the humanity of those whom a person dislikes (or is disliked by), according to Samuel Hopkins, who was Jonathan Edwards protégé, is the essence of the Kingdom of God available here and now, rather than after a final judgment. In fact, choosing to value and incorporate in practice such a kingdom as Hopkins sketches survives any Jansenist, strict Augustinian, view of free-will as profoundly wounded by the Fall. Looking the other way, not to mention supporting politically, ideologically, or ethically a heinous regime that is starving and killing millions intentionally out of sheer hatred, even relegating the other as subhuman, whether Jews in Nazi Germany or Palestinians in Gaza nearly a century later, reflects how deplorable a human’s use of one’s free-will can be, post-lapsarian (i.e., due to original sin). Even given the mythic fall of Adam and Eve in the Book of Genesis, we are all responsible for how we use our free-will, even though it is tainted.

It may even be said that there is a special place in hell for Christians who look the other way on Israel’s extermination of the Gazans, as if all of them were culpable for Hama’s day of attack in which 1,200 Israelis were killed and a few hundred taken hostage by a subjugated people occupied by an apartheid regime. The doctrine of collective justice, which Yahweh, not human beings, apply to Israel in the Hebrew Bible, is in human hands nothing but a weaponized fallacy. To give this a blank slate because Israel’s existence empirically is requisite to the Second Coming even raises the question of whether the human brain is inherently compromised cognitively and ethically in relating the domains of ethics to religion/theology. It used to be asked whether atheists could be ethical. Perhaps the question has become whether pre-millennialist theists (i.e., evangelical Christians) can be ethical and politically responsible.

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1. Robert D. Cornwall, “The Roots of Belief in the 2025 Rapture that Didn’t Happen,” MSNBC.com, September 25, 2025.
2. 1 Thessalonians 4:16-17 (KJV)
3. Robert D. Cornwall, “The Roots of Belief in the 2025 Rapture that Didn’t Happen."
4. Ibid.
5. Ibid.
6. This prediction is in Matthew 24, Mark 13, and Luke 21.
7. Robert D. Cornwall, “The Roots of Belief in the 2025 Rapture that Didn’t Happen."

On Presumptuous Pride: Netanyahu Castigates Europe

While conducting a genocide and even a holocaust in Gaza from 2023 through at least the summer of 2025, the Israeli government was in no position to launch diplomatic threats against either the E.U. or any of its states for recognizing a Palestinian state alongside the Israeli state.[1] At the time, the warrants issued by the ICC for the arrest of Netanyahu and a former defense minister were still outstanding, and no doubt more warrants would be issued for other culprits in the Israeli government and military. I applaud Jews around the world, and especially in Israel, who have had the guts to protest publicly on behalf of human rights in Gaza and against Israel's savage militaristic incursion into Gaza and the related death of tens of thousands and starvation of millions. The human urge of self-preservation is astonishing in that as of August, 2025, so many residents of Gaza were still alive. So, for Netanyahu to charge government officials in the E.U. with being antisemitic is not only incorrect and unfair, but highly presumptuous given the severity of the atrocities unleashed by Netanyahu and his governmental cadre. Regarding both the Israeli protesters and the Netanyahu government, distinguishing the ethical from the theological domains, which are admittedly very much related, is helpful.

Any religion that would applaud the behavior of Israel since that country started bombing civilians (and their homes and even entire cities) in Gaza does not deserve the appellation of religion, much less faith. In the Torah, we can find examples where Yahweh punishes Israel for disobeying the covenant, which includes the Ten Commandments, which in turn include the prohibition against murder, especially of an entire population as if every resident were culpable.

Nietzsche castigates the line, "Vengeance is Mine, sayeth the Lord," because it contradicts omnibenevolence, which is a divine attribute. Even so, Israel might want to heed the line, for even though collective justice does not apply outside of Israel, the Torah applies it to Israel. That Israel includes even the Israelis who have protested the genocide and holocaust in Gaza confirms the vital point that divine decrees in a scripture do not always subscribe to our notions of what is ethical, for otherwise Yahweh’s omnipotence would be constrained by our moral principles. Of course, this point does not give us an “out” for behaving unethically in harming other people, especially innocents, especially if in God’s name, and this is precisely the fallacy into which Netanyahu and his cadre as well as supporters have fallen, even if implicitly rather than consciously.

Put another way, in the Book of Exodus, not even the Hebrews who have not been worshipping the Golden Calf in the desert while Moses is on the mountain can enter the promised land for 40 years; all of Israel is being punished. Similarly, a divine decree against Israel for having broken the commandment against murder so severely would include even the Israelis who have publicly protested Netanyahu’s policies in Gaza (as well as his enabling of attacks by Israeli “settlers” against Palestinians in the occupied territories). That more Israelis could have stopped working and protested such that the Netanyahu governing coalition might change course or even collapse is not the point. Rather, my point here is that collective justice is unethical even when issued by a divine decree, so Israel’s collective punishment of all of the residents of Gaza cannot be justified, either in ethical terms or as if Netanyahu could issue divine decrees that transcend the ethical realm.

Furthermore, the Final Act in terms of Yahweh’s judgment is beyond Israel’s control, given that atrocities have already been committed, and the Christian unqualified (in both senses of this word!) enablers of Israel might remember this too. To presume that a Last Judgment goes your way, or does not apply to oneself, is impious and presumptuous, and in line with the pre-eminence of self-love rather than faith in caritas seu benevolentia universalis. It is ironic that any Christian would forget this very practical faith, and even enable people who violate it so severely. Similarly, it is interesting that the governing coalition of Israel would dismiss Hillel’s teaching not to treat others as you would not want to be treated. Take out the two nots, and Jesus’s Second Commandment is revealed. 

In other words, the means of supporting Israel’s teleological-theological role in salvation history should not violate divine decrees, or else the Final Judgement may come as a surprise because means are arguably just as important as goals. In fact, the choice of means, rather than the ends being sought (e.g., the triumph of Israel for theological purposes), may be what Yahweh looks at in judging human creatures. 

Even though the theological and ethical dimensions of means are important, and may even be more important to the ends being sought, a distinctly theological point does not reduce to one of ethics, for otherwise Yahweh would be subject to our ethical ideas, rather than vice versa. Even though it has been quipped that there is nothing like gods on Earth than Generals on a battlefield, not even their commander-in-chief is capable of issuing divine decrees, and thus should be held ethically and legally accountable; this is two degrees of separation from such a person as Netanyahu lashing out hate-speech slurs against government officials in Europe because they object to what is arguably a genocide and even a holocaust in Gaza and want to help the residents thereof.  

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1. Tal Shalev et al, “Israel Launches Diplomatic Attacks on Its Western Allies Ahead of Palestinian Statehood Recognition,” CNN.com, August 20, 2025.

Hypocrisy in Institutional Religion

Religion plays a prominent role in the film, Lykke-Per, or A Fortunate Man (2018). On the surface, Peter Sidenius, a young engineer, must navigate around an old, entrenched government bureaucrat to secure approval for his ambitious renewable-energy project. The two men clash, which reflects more general tension that exists everywhere between progressives and conservatives regarding economic, social, religious, and political change. Although pride may be the ruin of Peter and his project, the role played by religion is much greater than pride manifesting as arrogance, if indeed it is arrogant to stand up to abuse of power, whether by a government bureaucrat or one’s own father.

The full essay is at "A Fortunate Man."

On Kindness to Detractors: Compassion Beyond Universal Benevolence

In late April, 2025, Richard Slavin, whose Hindu name and title are Radhanath Swami, spoke on the essence of bhukti at the conclusion of the Bhukti Yoga Conference at Harvard University. Ultimately, the concept bhukti, which translates as devotionalism directed to a deity, such as Krishna in the Bhagavad-Gita, refers to the nature of the human soul. The immediate context is selfless love, which is directed to a deity, and this context immediately involves extending universal benevolence to other people (and other species), and even to nature (i.e., the environment). After Radhanath’s talk, he walked directly to me. I thanked him for his talk and went on to suggest refinement to compassion being extended universally, as in universal benevolence even to other species. To my great surprise, he touched my head with his, which I learned afterward was his way of blessing people, while he whispered, “I think I want to follow you” or “You make me want to follow you.” A Hindu from Bangladesh later translated the swami’s statement for me. “He was telling you that he considers you to be his equal,” the taxi driver said. I replied that being regarded as that swami’s equal felt a lot better than had he regarded me as his superior, for in my view, we are all spiritually-compromised finite, time-limited beings learning from each other.

The full essay is at "On Kindness to Detractors."

Selfishness and Damnation on a Subway

Imagine, if you will, a crowded, standing-room only subway car during rush hour. Even though people are standing, a seated passenger keeps his backpack on the seat next to his. It would be difficult upon seeing such a sordid display of selfishness not to reflect on the person’s values and character. The flipside of selfishness would be obvious: an indifference towards other people, including that which might benefit them. Instead, selfishness, which is self-love that is oriented teleologically to the person’s own benefit (i.e., private benefit) at the expense of benefits to other people and even a society as a whole. The shift from the ethical domain to that of religion may seem easily done—people of bad character are likely to go to hell rather than heaven—but not so fast, lest we presume to be omniscient (i.e., all-knowing) and capable of promulgating divine justice. It is indeed very tempting to relegate selfish people to hell.

John Calvin, a Protestant reformer in the sixteenth century, held that by absolute sovereignty, God has predestined an elect who are saved. Although he viewed wealth as a sign of God’s approval of the elect, it was not until the next century that Calvinists considered industriousness to be a Christian virtue.[1] All this contradicts Jesus’s statement in the Gospels to the rich man that unless he gives up his fortune, he would not enter the kingdom of God; it would be easier for a camel to get through the eye of a needle. Furthermore, wealth as a sign of divine favor leaves out the divine favor that could be supposed to be lavished on monks such as Cuthbert and Godric of Finchale, who lived intentionally impoverished lives so to be worthy of being saved. Wealth as a sign of divine favor also flies in the face of the preachments of such religious notables as St. Francis of Assisi and Luther, both of whom can be interpreted as attempting to apply brakes to the emerging and maturating Christian pro-wealth paradigm of their respective times.[2]

Much less problematic is the attribution by observing selfishness of someone not being among the elect saved by the shedding of blood by the Son of God, for, as Paul and Augustine both claimed, God is love and it emanates not only in a person’s love directed to God, but also to one’s neighbors in benevolentia universalis. Intentionally depriving another subway passenger on a crowded train of a seat by taking one up with one’s backpack is antipodal to benevolence, which manifests divine love according to Christianity.

In fact, Samuel Hopkins, who was a protégé of the New England theologian and philosopher, Jonathan Edwards, claims in his book on holiness that the essence of the kingdom of God is kindness and acts of compassion oriented to the humanity of people who dislike one or whom one dislikes.[3] Literally “rubbing shoulders” with another passenger on a subway car is much less inconvenient than being charitable towards adversaries. The root of the word charity is love rather than philanthropy.

In his book on virtue, Edwards himself distinguishes selfishness from “compounded self-love,” which differs from simple self-love because benefits are intentionally extended to other people rather than limited to oneself.[4] Similarly, Pierre Nicole, a seventeenth-century Jansenist Catholic priest and theologian, claims that the inherently sinful self-love can nonetheless be cleverly manifested as courtesy—but not interior kindness!—to other people because more can be gotten from laying out honey than from the stinginess of selfishness. Had the subway passenger moved his backpack, who knows, perhaps a person who might have been useful might have sat in the suddenly empty seat? 

Nevertheless, Hopkins, Edwards, and Nicole were all very clear in that even if self-love can have intentional beneficial consequences, which are in a person's self-interest, the root is still a sin. Needless to say, this point applies to the naked underlying narrow selfishness of the baker and the consumer in Adam Smith's theory of a competitive market, where not even moral sentiments can be assumed to be in the calculus of either participant. In relying on market-level unintended beneficial consequences of selfish economic pursuits by the crucially price-based impersonal mechanism of the proverbial "invisible hand," Smith does not even acknowledge or rely on intentional benefits for others from the enlightened or "compound" self-interest of market participants. Smith's view of human nature in the economic domain is thus relatively pessimistic. I submit that the business world empirically bears this out, as evinced, for example, by how corporations market their marketing under the subterfuge of "corporate social responsibility." Even attempts to reconcile organizational and societal norms are not ethical in nature, given Hume's notion of the naturalistic fallacy, which states that ethical principles are necessary to get from "is" to "ought." I submit that still another fallacy is instantiated by conflating the ethical and theological domains. In short, God transcends and thus is not limited to "ought." The profane world of business greed is oceans of time from the realm of godliness. 

As preferable as damning selfishness is to reckoning a rich person as being favored by God, distinguishing the ethical domain from that of salvation is important because the two domains are, I submit, qualitatively different even though they do interrelate. Hence Kierkegaard’s Fear and Trembling distinguishes the universally-accessible moral domain from that of the divine command that only Abraham receives.  What is attempted murder (of Abraham’s son, Isaac) in moral (and legal) terms is a sacrifice in religious terms. Both domains are valid in themselves and their respective meanings, and they relate to each other, as in the story of Abraham, but attempted murder and religious sacrifice are qualitatively different. This point is also clear in the Book of Job, as Job is a righteous man and thus does not deserve to be made to suffer by the devil even as a test sanctioned by the Old Testament deity. Abstractly stated, divine omnipotence (i.e., all-powerful) means that divine command cannot be constrained by human ethical principles. Regarding the five Commandments that have ethical conduct, it is explicitly based on divine command, and thus on divine will, and thus is not a constraint on the deity. This does not mean that the ethical itself is theological in nature.

So while it is tempting to relegate a selfish person to hell as a sordid reprobate, especially as selfishness is antithetical to benevolentia universalis, which is a manifestation of “God is love” in Christianity, both our own finite nature as judges and the distinction between acting unethically and being saved or damned mitigate against making such a hasty and wholly convenient category mistake as superimposes stuff of our realm onto God. It could be, for example, that the man on the subway suffers from PTSD and thus God has mercy on such a trifling thing as the man taking up an extra seat. Furthermore, it could be that the man was on his way to care for his sick grandmother and triggering his social anxiety on the train would compromise the care he could give.

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1. Skip Worden, God’s Gold: Beneath the Shifting Sands of Christian Thought on Profit-Seeking and Wealth. See also the author’s related academic treatise, Godliness and Greed: Shifting Christian Thought on Profit-Seeking and Wealth (Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2010). The first text is of the non-fiction genre for the general educated reader, whereas the second text is of the academic genre. Ironically, God’s Gold not only contains additional chapters, but is also an ideational improvement on God’s Gold, especially concerning the concluding chapter of both books. A Christian apologist, for instance, would prefer the conclusion of God’s Gold, which hinges on the Logos in answering a critique of anthropomorphism from David Hume’s Natural History of Religion. Sometimes better ideas reach a general readership rather than cloistered, over-specialized academia.

2. Ibid.

3. Samuel Hopkins, An Eenquiry into the Nature of Holiness (New York: William Durell, 1710).

4. Jonathan Edwards, The Nature of True Virtue (Ann Arbor, MI: The University of Michigan Press, 1960).

Electing a Pope

In the film, The Godfather, Part III (1990),  Cardinal Lamberto laments that Christianity, like water surrounding a stone that is in a water fountain, has not seeped into European culture even after centuries of being in Europe.  Watching the movie, Conclave (2024), a person could say the same thing about the Roman Catholic Church, though the ending does provide some hope that internecine fighting and pettiness for power, even aside from the sexual-abuse epidemic by clergy, need not win the day.

The full essay is at "Conclave."

A Bishop's Partisanship Overshadows Her Christianity

On the first full day of U.S. President Trump’s second term, the president and vice president attended a multi-faith prayer service at the National Cathedral. Episcopal Bishop Mariann Budde delivered the sermon on what is necessary for imperfect political unity in a country such as the United States. I contend that in trying to influence the president on immigration policy in a partisan way, she undercut the credibility of her message that there is strength in loving rather than retaliating against one’s detractors and even political enemies. The sacrifice of which she spoke concerning being kind in reaching out in humanity to people we dislike could be applied to herself in resisting the temptation to be partisan. That she lapsed at the expense of Jesus’ most important message is particularly striking.

Rev. Budde claimed that recognizing the dignity of even one’s enemies as being worthy of respect is one of three elements in achieving an admittedly imperfect (for we are imperfect beings) political unity, which in turn can be understood as “a way of being with one another.” To hold different perspectives or opinions as “valid and worthy of respect” does not require agreeing with them, and it is indeed permissible to proffer corrections on faulty reasoning. Such differences can exist within a deeper political unity if there is also compassion with another person’s humanity, as in the context of natural disasters.

Helping another person even though dislike exists in either or both directions involves sacrificial love as we give of ourselves for the sake of others, regardless of whom they voted for in the last election. In his Sermon on the Mount, the priest said, Jesus advocates loving not just our neighbors, but to love our enemies. Such love can seem vague, and the term “enemies” can easily be dismissed as too extreme to apply as the term does not include people who simply don’t like us or whom we don’t like. Being willing to be compassionate and kind in not just sympathizing, but also helping even people whom we regard as assholes is none other than the content of the kingdom of God, according to Samuel Hopkins, an American theologian who followed his relative, Jonathan Edwards, in the First Great Awakening. God is incarnate in our world in the interpersonal dynamic that only exists when a person disregards dislike in choosing to respond in kindness to another person’s needs when doing so is inconvenient interpersonally.   Valuing this divine presence in the world and enabling it to manifest by helping out in humaneness is something that anyone can value without necessarily believing in a god-man. Indeed, the litmus test in Christianity could be changed in line with this focus on the kingdom of God, whose mysteries Jesus says in the Gospels he came to discuss. Put another way, were actual acts of kindness to people who have been rude or even mean the focus for Christian intention, interpersonal peace might just break out as from a mustard seed. The world would change dramatically, and a president could lead the way by example.

Had the priest left her message at that, the impact would have been greater than it was, but she went on to bring up Jesus’ position on societal outcastes in order to beg President Trump to have mercy on people in the United States who have entered illegally. Reminding the president of Jesus welcoming outcastes in the Gospels, she pleaded for mercy on the hard-working people in the U.S. who don’t “have the proper documentation” to be in the country but “are not criminals.” I submit that not having the proper documents is a function of having broken U.S. law, and thus being criminals by entering the U.S. illegally. The problem lies not with documents, but with the willful decision to enter another country without permission, which, I submit is rather presumptuous. To label this as not criminal is not only incorrect factually, but glosses over the sheer presumption in sneaking into another country. I submit that the attitude of “laws don’t apply to me” is indeed presumptuous, and in fact is inconsistent with being in a society at all. For it is only in a Hobbesian state of nature that laws do not apply.

So, I submit that by “getting political” in a misleading or artful way, the priest undercut the immense credibility that lies in the strength of forgiveness by helping out people who have been most unkind—a kind of strength that is often dismissed in the political world, as it is by the Romans in the Gospels. In his writings, Nietzsche argues that this sort of strength is actually weakness. He even points out how it is preached as a means of gaining power over the politically strong. This is exactly what the priest was doing in trying to make the president feel guilty for objecting to people whose first act in the U.S. was to break its laws by entering illegally. That they have no right to be in the U.S. does not undercut their dignity, for they have done that themselves in audaciously sneaking into a country (or staying beyond a court date). The priest herself said that honesty is a major element of political unity.  

Unfortunately, the focus was not on whether serving the humanity of even political adversaries in acts of kindness rather than seeking retribution constitutes strength or weakness. Christianity stands for the former, whereas Nietzsche provides a counter-argument wherein the religion is useful for the weak who are not strong enough to be politically powerful. It could be that valuing not only turning the other cheek, but responding to the humanity of detractors in acts of kindness is the or ought to be the definitive litmus test by which a person can decide in the privacy of one’s own heart whether one is a Christian. Were this the focus of the religion, then the earthly city might really change. Being opportunistic in seeking political influence, on the other hand, is unfortunately already well-ensconced, and is thus easily recognizable.  

Overriding Selfishness by Experiencing Awe

As biological animals, we are genetically and even behaviorally programmed to be self-centered, even though we can “self-program” to override this instinctual urge, which is geared to self-preservation. We are naturally economizing beings, oriented like squirrels to store up as any nuts as we can for winter, given the natural conditions of scarcity and uncertainty in the human condition. Yet we eschew selfish people and generally expect some extent of generosity from benevolence (benevolentia), which in turn is based on good will (benevolentia). To be sure, we can take measures not only to hold us back from abject selfishness, but also override the instinctual urge even for self-preservation. One such way has to do with experiencing awe.  

It is easier to accept that self-interest, which can manifest narrowly as selfishness, has a biological basis refined by the process of natural selection in evolution than it is to believe that experiences of awe have biological effects that reduce or even eclipse a self-centered orientation in perception and behavior. According to one researcher, an experience of awe “activates our vagus nerve. That’s ‘the big bundle of nerves starting in the top of your spinal cord that helps you look at people and vocalize’ . . . and it also ‘slows our heart rate, helps with digestion and opens up our bodies to things bigger than us.’”[1] The neurological feature of perceiving (and perhaps even judging) other people is particularly salient in regard to self-centeredness. For as the vagus nerve is being activated from an experience of awe, a region of the brain is deactivated—the default mode network. “That is where all the self-representational processes take place: I’m thinking about myself, my time, my goals, my strivings, my checklist. That quiets down during awe.”[2] As thoughts about oneself become recessive, we would expect the vagus nerve to look at people less fettered by interlarding thoughts about oneself and one’s own interests.

An experience of awe does not necessitate there being a religious experience; “finding awe and wonder” in the world around us “can be as simple as pausing and noticing . . . something as seemingly small as a newly blossomed flower to something as bigas a sunset stretched across the entire sky.”[3] Another source of awe is of a moral sort, as evinced in “witnessing the kindness or goodness or generosity of other people.”[4] I submit that witnessing or being on the receiving end of compassion for a detractor or enemy transcends awe from a virtue to instantiate spiritual awe, especially if God is believed to be love itself, theologically speaking. To be sure, such awe, or moral awe, need not be experienced for the biological processes to kick in; “listening to music, seeing art and contemplating big ideas” may suffice to trigger an experience of awe.[5]

Perhaps regularly having intense experiences of awe can reduce self-referential thoughts to the extent of a person being willing to die for a larger principle than self-preservation. Religious martyrs and warriors who are willing to die for their country (or cause) on a battlefield may thus be so inclined for biological as much as religious/patriotic reasons.

Furthermore, being less self-referential cognitively can, in itself and as this affects how other people are perceived (via the vagus nerve), render a person more moral in terms of being more benevolent, and thus generous, and less selfish. This orientation is in line with Bentham’s utilitarianism, wherein a person should act in line with the greatest good for the greatest number possible of people, and with Kant’s categorical imperative wherein a person should treat other rational beings not merely as means to one’s own interests, but also as ends in themselves. This formulation is in line with the Golden Rule in Christianity: love others as one loves oneself. Though in depressing the latter, loving others becomes more like selfless, or agape, love, which is self-emptying (kenosis) rather than self-aggrandizing. 

That such lofty theological notions may have correlates in biology does not take away from the value of the former as being sacred even if biology is viewed as profane. Even if a religious person is of another world, being in the earthly realm before any after-life cannot be doubted. Even though Augustine held that human love even as directed “upwards” to God is the best that we mere mortals can do, Calvin was more idealistic in viewing us as being capable not merely of Augustinian caritas love, but also of divine-sourced agape love—this species of theological love being much closer to selflessness than is caritas, which is based on garden-variety eros. Ironically, Calvin’s claim may find support from biological processes that are deactivated and activated.

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1. “Scientists Asked People . . .,” The Huffington Post, December 27, 2024.
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid.
4. Ibid.
5. Ibid.

The Vatican on the Brink of Bankruptcy: The Missing Piece

During at least its first millennium, Christianity—with the notable exception of Clement of Alexandria—held that greed is tightly coupled to profit-seeking and wealth. Amid the increased trade, and profits, during the Commercial Revolution in the Middle Age in Europe, Aquinas began the trend severing the coupling to allow for greedless moderate profits, and thus wealth. Also in Medieval Europe, the Roman Catholic Church allowed monasteries to have collective wealth (including land) without being subject to having to go through the eye of a needle to enter the Kingdom of God.[1] With it supply of gold and real estate, the Vatican could be considered rich in the twenty-first century. When the exemption for collective wealth justifies those holdings from the stain of greed is one question; here I look at reports in 2024 that the Vatican was on the brink of bankruptcy, and why, for at least in one media report, one major reason is curiously left out even though that reason may have been making all the difference, and may even be considered just, whether in terms of divine or human justice.

Pope Francis admitted that the Vatican was in trouble financially. “The current system is unable to guarantee in the medium-term compliance with pension obligations for future generations.”[2] According to the Daily Express in late 2024, the Vatican’s “unprecedented financial crisis as of late . . . was caused by a decline in donations.”[3] In 2023, “the Vatican reported an operating deficit of $87 million,” and a larger deficit was the case in 2024 as of mid-December.[4] The question is why.

The Vatican had been “embroiled in debt after the European recession in 2012 and once again during the [coronavirus] pandemic in 2021.”[5] Also, the price of gold decreased in the early 2020s. Some conservative Catholics blamed Pope Francis’ “progressive” policies as “causing a decrease in donation.”[6] But on conservatives’ hot-button issues of abortion and homosexuality, the pope had reaffirmed the Church’s magisterium (i.e., teaching) that both are sins, and opposing climate change was not an unpopular position globally by 2024. As for emphasizing the poor, Jesus in the Gospel narratives does as much, so the pope was by no means an outlier in that respect. In fact, it could be counter-argued that the conservative, theologically excluding policies of the preceding pope, Joe Ratzinger, had caused church attendance, and thus donations, to decline. A church that views itself as more like a hospital than a club of saints will, everything else equal, enjoy larger attendance.

Entirely omitted, however, is the decreased attendance due to the Roman Catholic priests who had been molesting and even raping children for decades without being defrocked—Joe Ratzinger being among the many sordid bishops who reassigned rather than defrocked pedophile priests for the good of the reputation of the universal Church. The lack of accountability within the Vatican, such as in the ceremonial role in the Vatican being given to Cardinal Law by Pope John Paul II, who would be canonized as a saint by the Church he led, after news had surfaced of Archbishop Law having protected nearly 100 pedophile priests in Boston at the expense of 550 victims and with court judgments “that eventually topped $85 million.”[7] Even though the Boston Archdiocese was responsible for paying out the judgments, the hit to the credibility of the Roman Church from not only there being so many pedophile priests (and bishops), but also there being so little accountability—not even a resulting change at the top due to the serial unaccountability from Rome—led to a marked decline in church attendance. Besides this meaning less in donations, surely a significant number of the laity decided not to contribute financially to a religious organization in which employees thereof had been molesting and even raping children over decades. In any democratic state, a government covering up and even harboring so many rapists and their superiors would have faced a no-confidence vote, yet neither Pope John Paul II or Benedict XVI was pushed out or resigned for that reason, although it may be that the International Criminal Court made a deal with the latter pope, Joe Ratzinger, that would drop the charges pending against him in exchange for that conservative pope breaking with tradition and resigning, as well as being confined to Vatican City for the rest of his life. Even efforts inside the Vatican to hide this deal would be consistent with the efforts to cover-up cases of pedophile priests and their clerical protectors, such as Archbishop Law of Boston.

In short, no one should be surprised that the Vatican was on the brink of bankruptcy, though were the Vatican to sell some of its real-estate and gold the organization’s pensioners might not have had to fear being left high and dry in a worldly rather than heavenly sense. Although such fear would not be just for innocent priests and bishops, the extent of orchestrated covering up by the Vatican since at least 2002 and even the possible culpability psychologically of clerical celibacy as a church tradition from the Middle Age regarding the molestation and raping of children as a result of dysfunctional repression means that in addition to guilty priests and bishops being defrocked, the Roman Catholic Church was facing natural and perhaps even divine justice in being on the brink of bankruptcy. That is a powerful statement—much more so than one blaming the Vatican’s weak financial condition of Pope Francis, as if his policies were progressive, and if they really were so, blameworthy too.  

To be sure, religion does not reduce to morality; Yahweh in the Hebrew Bible is more concerned with being worshipped exclusively and thus in covenant, than in sticking to human ethical principles. But it is God, rather than Popes and other bishops (and priests), who has license to trump ethics when needed for theological purposes. When us mere mortals decide unilaterally to trump the dictates of justice by inflicting harm on other people and by enabling the perpetrators who are aggressive especially against the weak, then we can expect that our own suffering is just. Therefore, it is just that the Vatican was on the brink of bankruptcy at the end of 2024.

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1. See my books, Godliness and Greed, and God’s Gold, the latter text reflecting my further thought on the topic, especially on how Christianity can be held off from the increasing susceptibility to greed theologically.
2. Alana Loftus, “Vatican ‘On the Brink of Bankruptcy’ Due to Dramatic Decline in Global Donations Under Pope Francis’ Leadership,” MSN.com, December 17, 2024.
3. Ibid.
4. Ibid.
5. Ibid.
6. Ibid.
7. Phillip Martin, “The Pope Promises Accountability to Victims Abused by the Church. Where is Cardinal Law?” The World, August 3, 2015.

Church of the Peripheries

One of the leitmotifs of the four Christian Gospels is the surprising value of peripheries even over people who are up front, whether politically, economically, socially, and even atop religious institutions. “The last are first, and (most of) the first are last” is a Biblical staple for Christians. In terms of compassion, the value being espoused here is consistent with Jesus’s preachment that compassion to one’s detractors and even sworn enemies is the way into the spiritual Kingdom of God, which, being within a person and between people in the spirit of inconvenient love/compassion, is at hand rather than pending Christ’s Second Coming. This point is dramatically made in the film, Mary Magdalene. It was also made in Pope Francis’s decision to skip the grand opening of Notre Dame in Paris and go instead to the French island of Corsica in December, 2024. In making this choice, the pope evinced distinctively Christian leadership, which can also be practiced by heads of governments and even CEOs.

Skipping an ornate state ceremony in Paris, Pope Francis went to a small Mediterranean island, “highlighting local traditions of popular piety on the one hand and migrant deaths and wars on the other.”[1] The symbolism of the trip thus goes beyond Corsica. “The Mediterranean is the backdrop of this trip, surrounded by situations of crisis and conflict,” Vatican spokesman Matteo Bruni, said.[2] The notion and value of compassion that is inconvenient is especially welcome in the context of suffering, and, indeed, a person who oneself has suffered greatly may be particularly inclined to redress hate in the world with compassion. This is much more valuable than meeting with the president of a country.

Hence, rather than meeting French President Macron at his palace, the pope was scheduled to “meet privately with Macron at the airport before departing . . . back to Rome.”[3] The first are last. “The pontiff pointedly did not make the trip to Paris . . . for the pomp surrounding the reopening of the Notre Dame Cathedral following the devastating 2019 fire.”[4] Rather than going to Paris, the pope went to an island whose population numbers only 340,000 people. As they had been embroiled in pro-independence violence, the context there was ripe for soothing, compassionate attention. Like a good shepherd who goes after a lost lamb so it would not be eaten by a wolf, a good pastor goes to the periphery where fear can be expected to eclipse happiness and contentment. A good pastor shirks the contentment of pomp and lavish display in order to go to a sparce periphery.

So too, Macron could have followed suit, assuming he values Jesus’s example, by not only venturing into the poor suburbs of Paris, but also giving Corsica its political independence instead of limited autonomy. The island is closer to Italy anyway. Lessening violence is worth more, I submit, than attending a highbrow grand opening of Notre Dame. Rather than worship the spurious crown of thorns that was returned to the cathedral just after its opening, a Christian following in the pope’s footsteps would be more inclined to evince inconvenient compassion not only to strangers, but, even more so, to people who have been rude, rejecting, and even hateful to oneself.

Benevolentia universalis is commonly thought to be the epitome of Jesus’s life and teaching on how to enter the Kingdom of God; I submit that something more—something even more difficult—is needed to usher in the Kingdom in the world, one person at a time.  Put another way, “the last are first” can be interpreted not only as going to the least rather than the first in society (and in a church!), but also as treating one’s detractors as the last in the sense of being the first in receiving one’s compassion and even love. This is in sync with self-sacrifice and the difficult exercise of free-will, and thus with agape, self-emptying love that is uniquely the epitome of divinity in Christianity, and thus the religion’s real presence. Even in ritual reality, which is qualitatively different than metaphysical reality, agape itself is the real-presence being ritually sought and received. Once ingested, it is for naught if it does not issue outward in compassion to the most difficult of people rather than just to compliant strangers.

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1. Daniel Bellamy, “Francis Becomes the First Pope to Visit the French Island of Corsica,” Euronews.com, December 15, 2024.
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid.
4. Ibid., italics added.

Dorothy Day: Drawing on the Profane to Grasp the Sacred

Rather than spending her adult years in a convent, Dorothy Day, who founded the Catholic Workers Movement in the twentieth century, could distill religious experience through her activity in the world—the sacred essentially coming up through the profane. This is not to confound these two spheres, just as Christology has held since the Council of Nicaea (325 CE) that the two natures, human and divine, of Christ do not mix within his one essence. In fact, even within the religious sphere, Day could distinguish qualitative differences between God as personified and as impersonal in nature.

Day wrote of her pre-Catholic religious “idea of God as a tremendous Force, a frightening impersonal God, a Voice, a Hand stretched out to seize me, His child, and not in love. Christ was the Saviour, meek and humble of heart, Jesus, the Good shepherd. But I did not think of Jesus as God.”[1] That she was reading Imitation of Christ at the time says a lot about how she situated Jesus as an exemplar. Whether viewed as a holy man or as the Son of God beyond nominally so in the Gospel story, Jesus is distinguished from the idea of God as impersonal. This resonates with the relation between loving devotion to Jesus as evinced by spiritual nuns, and viewing God as impersonal resonates with both Shankara, the ninth-century Hindu theologian who claimed that deities are merely manifestations of the all-pervading, impersonal Brahman, and Pseudo-Dionysius, the sixth-century Christian theologian who emphasized that God goes beyond the limits of human thought, perception, and emotion (i.e., sensibility). The latter applies especially to Day’s statement, “I made up my mind to accept what I did not understand, trusting light to come, as it sometimes did, in a blinding flash of exultation and realization.”[2] This can be interpreted as meaning that divine revelation lies beyond human understanding, and yet it is sad just how many people claim to know God’s will.

It was said of Day that she was too religious to be a Communist. This is ironic because her need for God was in the midst of her activities, political and even biological. The risk here was in committing the category mistake of conflating the religious sphere with others even though her religious experiences came when she was in the midst of activity in other domains. We can keep the religious domain as distinct and unique in some ways by interpreting her as being able to perceive her activities as analogies to dynamics in the spiritual domain that are qualitatively different from activities within Creation.

Relating herself birthing a child to God as Creator, Day wrote, “God is the Creator, and the very fact that we [i.e., she and the baby’s father] were begetting a child made me have a sense that we were made in the image and likeness of God, co-creators with him.”[3] Although the episode evinces that she could see something in nature (i.e., giving birth) as in some way being similar, and thus analogical, to a theological point, referring to herself as a co-creator ignores the qualitative difference between propagation in the world and God creating existence and all that is within it.

She was on firmer ground in thinking about how vegetable seeds grow “into flowers and radishes and beans,” she wrote, “It is a miracle to me because I do not understand it.”[4] The word miracle is distinctly religious, so its application sans God to a biological process itself should be resisted. So too, by the way, the word evil is distinctly religious, and thus ethicists who define it as grave injustice miss the mark. Day’s use of the word, miracle, should thus be taken as analogical only, even if the meant something more by it. The distinctly religious meaning to be grasped is that the divine transcends the limits of human cognition and thus is at least in part inherently mysterious to us. Unlike not understanding how a seed eventually grows so, producing even flowers and vegetables that hardly resemble the original seeds and yet are their final causes (Aristotle), not understanding God is inherent to God being uniquely transcendent as it extends beyond Creation; vegetables do not. Religion is distinct from the biological (scientific) domain. This holds in relation to other domains too, including that of ethics.

Ironically because she founded the Catholic workers’ movement, Day, like Kierkegaard, situated religious experience above the sphere of morality.  Of morality, Day said, “I saw them wrestling with moral problems, with the principles by which they lived, and this made them noble in my eyes.”[5] Lest this be presumed to be the highest form of nobility to Day, while she watching a woman kneel at her bed to pray, Day was convinced “that worship, adoration, thanksgiving, supplication” are “the noblest acts of which [a person is] capable in this life.”[6] Nobility in a religious sense is more noble than is ethical nobility In Fear and Trembling, Kierkegaard situates the divine decree made only to Abraham that he sacrifice his only son, Isaac, above the universally-accessible ethical stance that the sacrifice would actually be murder, for which Abraham would be culpable.

Although Dorothy Day illustrates that it is possible to have religious experience in the midst of our daily activities in the world rather than spending years in a monastery being necessary—and in this way she would side with Mahayana over Theravada Buddhism—her way of viewing the profane in a religious way risks conflating the two, as if the sacred and profane were co-creators rather than the profane being created by God. In general, this category mistake ignores the qualitative difference between the religious domain and other domains, such as science and even morality. Ultimately, conflating the heavenly and earthly cities risks putting humanity, and thus oneself, rather than a transcendent reference point, at the center.

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1. Dorothy Day, The Long Loneliness: The Autobiography of Dorothy Day (New York: Curtis Books, 1956), p. 20.
2.  Ibid., p. 163.
3. Ibid., p. 153.
4. Ibid., p. 152.
5. Ibid., p. 123.
6. Ibid., p. 123.