First Epistle to the Prince of Humanists
A Christian Humanist Manifesto in the Form of Letters
Some of the content of this series has been published on my Substack previously, but here it has been repurposed and expanded as part of a Christian Humanist Manifesto.
Dear Mentor,
Peace be with you fellow Dutchman, wise scholar of primary sources, craftsman of satire, and beloved Prince of Humanists.
I am writing to you by my own hand from the vast swinging bridge, that suspended link between heaven and earth where mortals’ virtues are burned away in conveyance over Jordan’s stormy banks to that lush garden city of the happiest life where God himself will be, who will wipe away every tear from our eyes, and death shall be no more; neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore.
May it be that we walk together and share our minds after the days of our old age on the far side of that sacred boundary where the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flows from the throne of God and of the Lamb; and, where the tree of life is ever in bloom for the healing and refreshment of the saints.
Meanwhile, I must boldly presume upon your grace and solicit the employ of your sagacious mind regarding a work that continuously burdens my heart even while the doldrums of daily life so often impede the fulfillment of this hallowed task. I confess I have frequently sought to free myself from its miserable weight; but, try as I might, I was unsuccessful in all of my attempts to dispatch this proverbial albatross, even with my crossbow. With each attempt its noose only grew tighter around my neck.
So it was, some months back, I acquiesced and determined to wear the avian burden like a garment. Unfashionable as it may be in my present circumstance, I have heard tales of Titans who embraced similar affliction and their vexing compulsions became the darlings of posterity. One may take for preeminent examples that blind bard from Ionia, the beloved disciple of Jesus, or the venerable Bishop of Hippo.
Certainly, I am no poet. I am barely a theologian, and perhaps only a philosopher in the oldest sense of the word, a simple lover of wisdom. Although many pupils over the years have called me διδάσκαλος and umanisti, and colleagues vir litterarum, and though some notable Cancellarii and Praesides have conferred upon me the title of Doctor Philosophiae in Humanitatibus, I have to admit I’m really only a scribe, and one still in apprenticeship to bote.
So, please believe me when I tell you I have no pretensions of vainglory in pursuing this work, only a desire to nourish the logos-impoverished, and feed the albatross in the process. And while productivity in this work has so far only been achieved in the smallest of degrees (and even those small successes were only accomplished in fits and starts), I trust that I can find some measure of satisfaction if I begin by clarifying the work.
At the very least, I will know in which direction I should be digging my path. As that beloved modern muse, Annie Dillard, has instructed us,
When you write, you lay out a line of words. The line of words is a miner’s pick, a woodcarver’s gouge, a surgeon’s probe. You wield it, and it digs a path you follow. Soon you find yourself deep in new territory. Is it a dead end, or have you located the real subject? You will know tomorrow, or this time next year. You make the path boldly and follow it fearfully. You go where the path leads. At the end of the path, you find a box canyon. You hammer out reports, dispatch bulletins.
To ensure I’m digging in the right direction and sending meaningful dispatches to the most admirable of assemblies and audiences, I’m writing to request your critique of what I am coming to think of as Ten Pillars of Christian Humanism, the expanded adages I expect will guide my own digging. This is hardly a manifesto, per se; neither is it an exhaustive list of topics I mean to report on.
Rather, these ten pillars are simple statements that attempt to clarify some of the chief tenants of a renewed Christian humanism in my own unique age. The goal is to articulate these comprehensive ideas in statements concise enough to be memorable and descriptive enough to be accurate.
The meaning contained in each of these statements is far more sophisticated than they might seem prima facie. I suspect, in some cases, their meaning is inexhaustible. Yet, all of these issue from one fountainhead: the Incarnation of the Logos, that historic event through which our most majestic creator and Triune God communicates, interacts, and redeems the world.
Without further delay, please consider these following ten pillars of Christian humanism—and please, by all means, as you did with More, Colet, Vives, Batt, and even Luther, provide me with your sincerest and ablest critiques:
The Incarnate Logos is Lord of every square inch of the Cosmos. His name is Jesus and he is the Christ.
Christianity has ultimate purchase on the culture because the glory of God is a living man.1
An irenic theology—albeit not a compromised one—rooted in eucharistic hermeneutics is preferred to a polemic spirit of contest.
Every fundamental institution has its unique realm of authority: the Church is the recollective body of Christ charged with the ministry of Word and Sacrament; the family is the essential building block of society charged with the health, welfare, and education of its own members; and the magistrate is an elected body of executives commissioned with preserving peace and ensuring justice within society.
Western civilization offers the best model for human flourishing because Christianity animated its classical virtues and provided the authoritative means of self-critique.
Mankind is, by common grace, a sub-creator; therefore, wherever truth, goodness, and beauty is discovered, it belongs to the Logos. Those who are in Christ Jesus are God’s own ποιεμα, fallen human beings regenerated for good works.
Language is endowed with meaning, an essential component of the divine order, a conceptual bridge for conveying both divine truth and human thought; albeit, sometimes it is a complicated, at times even deficient, medium for mediating signs and their meaning.
Letters, conceived in the broadest sense (i.e., literature), are both the idéogénies and transmitters of ideas that guide, and either sustain or diminish, every civilized culture and society (Thus, Ad fontes!).
Good writing is clear thinking made visible, including poetry, which essentially is beautiful, concentrated, and superfluous language reflecting God’s most creative and generous impulses.
Education is an ultimate possession and, with human flourishing as its aim, its activity is the transmission of our cultural inheritance from one generation to the next.
Indeed, dear Mentor of Rotterdam, my attempt to supply some supporting pillars for a Christian humanism in what is now a post-modern age may seem overly ambitious, but as has been widely acknowledged, the man who aims his bow at nothing hits his mark every time.
I humbly welcome your gift of insights and corrections; for the man who receives instruction and/or correction is better off than he who supplies it. It is a gift and blessing to him who receives it in humility.
As I eagerly await your reply, I will occupy myself with further reading and research so that I may have somewhat intelligent responses to your gracious but exacting critiques.
Yours, most sincerely,
Agapetos Mathetes
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Irenaeus, Against Heresies (4.20.7) in Alexander Roberts et al., The Ante-Nicene Fathers: Translations of the Writings of the Fathers Down to A.D. 325 (Edinburgh, Grand Rapids, Mich: T. & T Clark ; Eerdmans, 1989), 490.