We have been vilified so long
I was reading FAITH OF OUR FATHERS by Archbishop Gibbons.
It is not uncommon for a dialogue like the following to take place between a Protestant Minister and a convert to the Catholic Church:
Minister: You cannot deny that the Roman Catholic Church teaches gross errors–the worship of images, for instance.
Convert: I admit no such charge, for I have been taught no such doctrines.
Minister: But the Priest who instructed you did not teach you all. He held back some points which he knew would be objectionable to you.
Convert: He withheld nothing; for I am in possession of books treating fully of all Catholic doctrines.
Minister: Deluded soul! Don’t you know that in Europe they are taught differently?
Convert: That cannot be, for, the Church teaches the same creed all over the world, and most of the doctrinal books which I read, were originally published in Europe.
Yet ministers who make these slanderous statements are surprised if we feel indignant, and accuse us of being too sensitive. We have been vilified so long, that they think we have no right to complain.
My comment: I was struck forcefully with the parallel between the uproariously false accusations leveled in this imaginary dialog to the convert, and the same accusations I as a convert have heard earlier this week: the worship of images, and falsifications of documents.
The same wounded indignation of the accuser surfaced in this space, the slanderer was peeved, nay, offended with a righteous indignation that any Catholic would dare object to a slander being called a slander, or a lie a lie.
It was astonishing to me (and I mean the jaw-dropping, eye-popping astonishment from a Tex Avery cartoon) that any man would convince himself that the target of his falsehoods should welcome them. We have been vilified so long, that they think we have no right to complain.
Particularly foolish is the Dan Brown idea of a Church so powerful as to control the content of all the documents and books and memories of all her clergy and laity, and yet strangely weak enough to be unable to prevent you (allegedly the sole brave seeker of truth who knows better than scholars what actually happened to ancient parchments or remote printing presses) from discovering that truth, or, having discovered it, to suppress you.
I cannot imagine why anyone would believe such an unlikely scenario, unless it be for the psychological reason that the image of oneself as the sole seeker of truth confronting the shadowy giant of a two-millennia-old worldwide Imperial conspiracy looming over the horizon, richly appeals to one’s need for self flattery.
Let us deflate that self flattery with a word. There was indeed an Imperial conspiracy, backed by all the powers of Rome and, later, of Constantinople, enforced by the panoply of worldly power, from secret informants to public torments. This conspiracy was directed against the Orthodox and Catholic Church, first by the pagan Caesars of Rome, and then by the Arian Caesars of Constantinople. Those who defied that power bled and died as martyrs with bravery you cannot imagine, O conspiracy theorist, much less match. For you to defy emperors many centuries dead is no testament to your bravery.
The words of Archbishop Gibbons were first published in 1876, a century and a third ago.
The devil need never invent new lies, for the Sons of Adam are so ready to believe the old ones.
What should a Christian do, hearing such things? He should hear his master’s voice: “Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake.”
About John C Wright
John C. Wright is a practicing philosopher, a retired attorney, newspaperman, and newspaper editor, and a published author of science fiction. Once a Houyhnhnm, he was expelled from the august ranks of purely rational beings when he fell in love; but retains an honorary title.
