Fall of the Rebel Angels - Reuben
As a somewhat rambling continuation of my last post on traversing the Kazakh steppe in search of the writing room of arguably the greatest writer ever (yes, I said it), I thought it would be interesting to expound briefly on two themes Dostoyevsky is known for: crime and God. In his magnum opus, The Brothers Karamazov, one of the main characters, a rambunctious soldier turned sage-like monk, Father Zossima, makes a rather dramatic claim in his dying speech: “for if you have no God, what is the meaning of crime?”
This quote begs an interesting line of reasoning regarding the nature of crime (and wrongdoing) relative to our understanding of ordered, right behavior. Bound up in this question is the presumption that crime is a violation of God’s law which presupposes, God. Therefore, can you have crime without God? Put more provocatively, without God, is there such a thing as crime?
Before diving into that seemingly troubling question, I want to first provide a touch of context for Father Zossima’s rhetorical question. At his point in the story, Father Zossima is reflecting on the nature of many things including the state of Russian society (something Dostoyevsky does masterfully in most of his novels) and Europe more broadly. He tells how the rich, upper class has renounced God and thus claimed, absurdly, that there is no more crime, no more sin. This is absurd for a number of reasons, not the least of which is the fact that the poor are now rising up against the rich with violence and calling it righteous wrath. In other words, the rich claim there is no God, therefore no crime and yet are both criminal in their oppression and the victims of crime at the hands of the oppressed.
As with most truisms in Dostoyevsky, he uses sarcasm and hyperbole (typically rooted in reality and seasoned with dry humor) to make his most profound points. In this reflection, Dostoyevsky, via Father Zossima, is pointing out the deep, yet seemingly obvious reality that by acknowledging the possibility of crime we are implying the reality of God. To do something wrong implies there is a right way. And Dostoyevsky contends that God is that right way.
What’s that? Did someone ask, who cares? Bear with me, and while you’re at it:
Back to that provocative question: does crime require the reality of God? Well, yes. But don’t take my word for it, nor even that of Dostoyevsky. The apostle Paul made this argument eighteen hundred years before Dostoyevsky was even born. In a letter he wrote to a young church in Rome, he pointed out that God’s law - his prescription for right living - is what makes people aware of wrongdoing. In other words, you can’t willfully break a rule you don’t know exists.
So, a logical question that comes from this is: should we blame God for crime? Using Paul’s reasoning, the answer is of course, no. However, it is God and his design for right living, and the violations thereof, that define wrongdoing. And that wrongdoing underpins much of what ordered society calls crime. We know what is right. We can feel it. Just as we viscerally understand what is wrong. Those who chastize Christianity and organized religion more broadly as the source of evil in the world (a la Christopher Hitchens) fail to do two things: 1) distinguish between God’s intended way of living and the flawed human attempts at that life; and 2) acknowledge their contradictory view that there is no God yet there is a moral way of living.
On the first point, Hitchens and many like him since the elevation of Christianity to state religion in the fourth century Roman Empire, have rightly pointed out the tragic reality that leaders have weaponized Christianity to their own pursuit and consolidation of power. (NOTE: other organized religions have been similarly used for gaining and holding power, but I’m mainly concerned about Christianity here given my beliefs and background). In fact, in The Brothers Karamazov, another of Dostoyevsky’s characters brilliantly illustrates this critique. One of the actual Karamazov brothers, the middle one, Ivan - an atheist intellectual - recounts to his younger brother, Alyosha - a monk in training - a thought experiment in which Jesus comes back to earth during the Spanish Inquisition: another horrific period of exploiting and weaponizing Christianity. Ivan draws out the powerful point that Jesus himself would have been burned at the stake in the corrupted “christian” society of fifteenth century Spain. Yet Ivan failed to understand that like himself and his fellow atheists, Christians like Alyosha and Father Zossima share the same, if not greater revulsion toward those coopting the Christian faith in the name of personal gain.
On the second point, the intrinsic good: that feeling that self-sacrifice is noble, that saving a baby from a burning building is right; and by extension, the intrinsic bad: that feeling of remorse when we betray the ones we love, that nausea we feel when we learn of children being victimized in acts of war and violence; these feelings imply something deep within us that points to an innate morality. However, many who have faith that God doesn’t exist contend that this innate morality is a byproduct of an innate struggle for survival. That guilt is an evolved sensation to deter us from actions that minimize our chances at reproduction. My response here - beyond the fact that this line of reasoning seems like an obviously reductionist, profoundly sad description of what makes us beautiful, unique creatures - would be that a mere desire for passing on our genetic code cannot account for these intrinsic feelings of good and bad, because these feelings are often counter to our survival. Self-sacrifice doesn’t help us procreate to our maximum potential, and betrayal in the form of infidelity surely does! Like Dostoyevsky, I would argue that this often-selfless innate morality is an imprint of God on people reflecting his design for a life full of purpose that greatly surpasses society’s universally failed attempts to preserve life, liberty, and happiness.
So, in conclusion, is God a prerequisite to crime? Yes, but only because he designed the perfect, harmonious, relational mode of living that, when violated brings death and destruction that society tries to stem with a criminal code. God does presuppose crime, but crime directly contradicts God.
Loved this post. This topic hits to the heart of what is right, good and virtuous. Your take on it sounds like a mixture of Dr. Peterson and C.S. Louis who have both discussed it (C.S.L. in the early ages of mere Christianity, and JP in some random YouTube video I stumbled upon).
I really enjoyed this one. Not knowing too much about this field, yet in response to your section at the end expounding on the second point, Darwin made a pretty interesting and related confession in a letter to a friend (William Graham) in 1881: "with me, the horrid doubt always arises whether the convictions of man's mind, which has been developed from the mind of the lower animals, are of any value or at all trustworthy." Thanks for the post.