The Witness of Beauty

One thing I like to do whenever possible is support my e-friends by buying their books. Of course, all of my friends and acquaintances are intelligent, sophisticated people, so I’m rarely disappointed (see, for instance, my old reviews of Northern Reaction and Sanity). Today, we’ll look at The Witness of Beauty, a collection of essays by James Clark. Several of these have been previously published (most at The North American Anglican, where he serves as Book Review Editor), but as we’ll see, the collection is solid enough that it’s worth owning even for someone who’s already seen them online.

Let me begin with a general observation: Clark’s writing style is very academic, especially in the two opening essays (“Natural Law and the Prospects of Persuasion” and “The Witness of Beauty”). Given the state of academia these past several decades, that may sound negative, but I mean it in an ideal sense; imagine academics if they were honest, thoughtful, and competent, and you have a good picture of what the book is like.

For example, citations abound throughout the book, ensuring that the reader understands the current state of (serious) discussion of the topic at hand, while also assuring us that the author has done his research, that these are real issues he’s addressing, and he isn’t just throwing down some hot takes of the kind social media sites or blogs encourage. “Natural Law and the Prospects of Persuasion” especially reads largely like a literature review (i.e., a scholarly article in which the author reviews and assesses recent and seminal scholarship on a topic). Clark takes great care to cover every aspect of his subjects and to treat other writers fairly. He also organises each essay carefully, presenting arguments in a logical order, providing signposts like headings and subheadings in the longer pieces, so even lengthy or complex arguments are simple to follow.

This is all good and appropriate for the topics he covers, of course, but the caveat is that if you aren’t used to this style of writing it can come across as dense and rather dry. There’s no fluff, no flashes of stylistic flair, and not a picture or conversation in sight. That said, the style does lighten up in the second half, and if you do have experience with academic writing you’ll notice that Clark is a better author than most.

Now, to the essays themselves. I won’t discuss them in-depth, but will comment on a few points I found particularly interesting.

First is “Natural Law and the Prospects of Persuasion,” on how Christian political commentators and activists have tried to use Natural Law as a basis for arguing for Christian approaches to public policy. The reasoning is that we can’t use Christian doctrine because American government is ostensibly secular and Liberal, but Natural Law is independent of Christianity and so should be something we can use as a common ground with non-Christians. At a glance, this sounds promising, but as Clark and the many authors he cites point out, there are some problems. For one, though Natural Law arguments can sometimes work when speaking with individuals, they do not really work when arguing to the masses. The arguments still require some philosophical common ground between speaker and audience that just is not present among most Americans (and Westerners in general). They’re also rather abstract, and abstract, complex chains of reasoning just do not move masses of people.

We can also simply observe that they’ve failed, despite many Christian scholars and activists, well-meaning and educated as they are, pushing Natural Law. I remember these arguments being common in the late ’00s during the debate over legalising same-sex pseudomarriage, and effectively no one was moved. At best, they deepened the understanding of the issue for those who already agreed.

Clark doesn’t make this comparison, but while reading the essay I was reminded of the Neoreactionaries’ concept of GNON (a stylised acronym of Nature or Nature’s God). This served as a way to bypass theological discussion between the atheistic, agnostic, and religious wings of Neoreaction, since all could observe that certain social technologies encouraged human flourishing and should be promoted, regardless of the source of human nature that made it true. GNON worked acceptably well as a concept in that limited circle, among individuals who already shared some common philosophical ground and were comfortable with abstraction, but it’s not a framing that will work outside such a limited context.

In any case, the only reason left to use Natural Law arguments is that there’s really nothing else, which is rather weak. This leads us to the second major essay, “The Witness of Beauty.” This is another long and wide-ranging essay, difficult to summarise or extract from without full context. Clark argues, correctly, that beauty is objective and not merely an emotive response to something. It’s also not limited to works of imagination (e.g., novels). A virtuous life, for example, is given as an example of something beautiful, both in an individual and in a community. Beauty gives witness to God, as Clark points out, “because God communicates His beauty to creation, created beauty in turn points back to God[.]”

Now, Clark does admit that appreciating beauty requires some degree of maturity, and honestly, I believe this maturity is the weak point of this approach. Modernity is so far gone in depravity and aesthetic sense that there are few who are not dead to beauty. More than the number open to Natural Law argument, most likely, but we’re at the point where a mass reconversion will require a literal miracle. This is not to despair, of course – God converted the Aztecs through a miracle, and He can work a miracle in the Americas again. For our part, our best approach is to make use of any strategy available (so, appeal to both Natural Law and beauty, depending on circumstances).

The rest of the essays, including a few more expanding on the “witness to beauty” concept, are much shorter. One common problem with essay collections is that they’re often uneven; sometimes because of a disparity of topics, sometimes because of varying quality, or even just the reader’s varying interest in a certain piece’s subject. I’m happy to say, though, that Clark’s writing remains consistently good throughout the book. Even the essays specific to Anglicanism had some points of interest for me, and I’m sure some of my Protesting brethren will enjoy them more than I did. Among these was a surprise appearance of my patron saint in “Aquinas in Anglican Thought.” Perhaps I shouldn’t be too surprised, though – my impression is that Anglicans, more than most Protestants, emphasise a historical continuity to their denomination through time. St. Thomas is very Catholic, but as Clark points out with a long list of examples through the centuries, Anglican authors have regularly referred to his work, occasionally to his general style and approach in the Summa Theologica, and often to specific points where they’re in agreement with his theology. King James I and Bishop Lancelot Andrewes even cite St. Thomas against St. Robert Bellarmine, James on whether the pope can “absolve people of political oaths to civil laws or rules,” Andrewes on the “subjection of clerics to the state in civil matters.” Longtime readers know we’re great fans of Bellarmine around here, but I would need to read each author’s words in full before making any calls on who is right on these points or how deep any disagreements between the two saints are.

Among the most useful of the shorter essays is “On ‘Necessity’ and Tragic Morality,” which asks, “does violence better conform the world to Christ, and is violence committed for righteousness’ sake justified?” That is, in a time of gross injustice on the part of the government, are we permitted to do things that would otherwise be sinful to attempt to rectify our situation? Obviously, we cannot do nothing, but I agree with Clark’s conclusion, that “there is never a situation in which Christians have no choice but to commit sin.”

The essay “Is Martin Luther in Purgatory?” greatly tempts me to say something flippant, but I’ll bite my tongue. This seems to have been in response to a controversy from the time the piece was originally published, and I agree with the author that speculating on such things is unproductive. I’ll just say that I hope Luther is indeed in Purgatory; if such a heretic as he can make it that far, it’s good news for the rest of us. [Update: The day after posting this, I was informed that this essay was satirical! Nonetheless, my point here stands.]

I feel like I’ve sold this book short by treating it so briefly, since every essay is thought-provoking and would justify a full response. That would turn into a post of me pontificating, though, and my goal is to answer the question of whether the book is worth reading. That answer is yes: if any of these topics pique your interest at all, it’s well worth picking up.