From Arianism to Modern Therapeutic Deism with Basil as our Guide: “He’s not afraid of threats. He’s more powerful than our convictions. Let’s threaten some coward but not Basil.”
Why a speech from the late 4th century…in East-Central Anatolia?
How can it possibly relate to us now?
As to how this relates to our current context, this should become clear upon reading the text below between the Prefect of a Roman Emperor and a preacher/writer/founder of lay communities/constructor of the world’s first hospital system (that was designed, we should add, for the first time in human history to meet the needs of the poor).
As a preface, however, it should be said that there are always, by God’s grace. key figures in ever generation and every century. Basil of Caesarea and Gregory of Nazianzus were certainly those. In our climate of modern, Evangelical Christianity in the West, it can appear that that few are offering to us the Gospel (euangélion) of the victory of Christ Jesus over the powers of This Fallen Age. Rather, the religious climate that takes many into its fold from every tradition seems to offer, rather, an appeasement of a “moral therapeutic deism”, of which we will give a brief overview below.
We mention it because our current cultural climate is not, in actuality, entirely different than prior iterations…even extending as far back as 1600 years ago in Anatolia. Then, as now, the Spirits of the Age (or to use Paul’s own words, the“god of This Age” (ho theós tou aiṓnos) operated to the same extent, exerting an influence which
blinded the minds of men (nóēma) who do not believe, lest the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine on them (II Cor 4:4).
The same “god” is still working through the
principalities, powers, rulers of the darkness of this age and spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places (Eph 6:12).
Who then, to again use Paul’s language, will “wrestle” against them?
Basil was one of those, whose real-life example we offer below so as to spur us on in what lies ahead.
Wrestling against modern forms of Arianism in the cultural emergence of Moral Therapeutic Deism
In Basil and Gregory’s era, they struggled and fought and wrestled against the emergence of Arianism, that is, the prevailing belief that Christ was not, in fact, God but rather a mere creation by God, whose exemplary life, nevertheless, offered good moral guidance to the masses. This false doctrine held great sway over the Roman Empire even after its denunciation as a heresy by the Council of Nicea (325 A.D.). With greater levels of ferocity, the Emperors, bishops, priests and people alike, who were were caught in its blinding grip, fought vehemently to maintain its powerful hold, weaponizing (as we shall see below) against any that defied them.
And even with great resistance (again, as we shall see below), the influence of Arianism continued…which we should note has passed through the ages into modern Western Christendom. There is, to make it less abstract, the hold of Mormonism, which puts forward a growth globally to over 17 million. For them, Christ is “the firstborn spirit son of God”, [LDS Doctrine of the Gospel Student Manual, 9] and “among the spirit children of Elohim” [Smith, Gospel Doctrine, 70].
Then, to note another, there are the Jehovah’s Witnesses whose worldwide number exceeds 19 million. For them, “Jesus is the sole direct creation of God” Watchtower, 5).
Even within the Protestant church, to draw it from the realm of splinter heresies into a main frame of Western Christendom, there is the dimension of Modern Liberal Protestantism which arose out of Higher Criticism that denied the realities of the virgin birth and resurrection of Jesus with all associated miracles, etc., etc…
The point is that in all of these heresies, both past and present, is simple:
Jesus is not fully God.
And He is not the Word of God enfleshed, whose full assumption of the totality of our humanity is the ontological basis of our eternal salvation.
And further, He is certainly not our eternal judge (despite the claims of Jesus,“For the Father judges no one, but has committed all judgment to the Son…” John 5:22). Rather, He is simply a good man whose but beautiful and inspiring teachings can help us.
Now enter Moral Therapeutic Deism.
A definition
This rather technical term arises out of the research conducted by sociologists, Christian Smith (Notre Dame) and Melina Lundquist Denton (UNC-Chapel Hill; now UT-San Antonio), who synthesized their conclusions from in depth analysis of The National Study of Youth and Religion [NYSR], the largest and most detailed such study ever undertaken, which, in their words, “affords an important and distinctive window through which to observe and assess the current state and future direction of American religion as a whole.”
Their conclusion, in short, was that there is the emergence of a “de facto dominant religion,” which they described as “moral therapeutic deism” (p. 162).
Moral: Be Good;
Therapeutic: It will help you;
Deism: And God, “a Divine Butler and Cosmic Therapist” (p. 165) will help when things get tough, but will otherwise keep a safe distance from your personal affairs.
Lundquist Denton and Richard Flory wrote a follow-up article in which they updated and further honed the definitions of this de facto religion through in depth interviews of these teenagers now turned “emerging adults.”
Seven spiritual beliefs of young adults
“Emerging adults,” they contend,
consistently frame their moral decision-making as something they “just know” or “feel.” A decision is right or wrong based on tacit knowledge that is felt rather than rationally articulated.
As to where such moral knowledge actually comes from,
Their beliefs remain “taken for granted” or are an assumed part of their lives, and they are more or less accepting of their faith as they have experienced it growing up. Ideas about God and faith are things they “just know.”
As such, there is no systematic, externally verifiable basis for one’s belief system:
Mine just is and yours just is.
And we simply “cobble” it all together “into a highly individualized religious/spiritual perspective tailored to [our] own needs” as we
borrow and develop beliefs and morals from different religious traditions and larger cultural currents, without any need for greater involvement in or commitment to any particular religious tradition or for any actual coherence with these traditions.
Below are the “seven core tenets of this general outlook.” (See the Appendix below for the complete description of each.)
1) Karma is real (with an “undefinable supernatural force” generally working with a “cosmic logic” in order to “make for a just and ordered world”)
2) Everybody goes to heaven
3) Just do good (“That is, If you treat people well, you increase your odds of going to heaven.”)
4) It’s all good (“People can believe whatever they want or act how they want…as long as they aren’t hurting others.” The “two key tenets” that are “exemplified in this approach” are “tolerance and acceptance.”)
5) Religion is easy (as it “imposes no significant demands” on us and as such, truly and literally is, the “broad and easy way.”)
6) Morals are self-evident (“you just know, or feel, what is right and wrong—even though they’re all relative.”)
7) No regrets (“Certainly, some acknowledge decisions and choices they may have made that weren’t great, or things that didn’t work out, or opportunities they wish they had pursued. But, taken together, all of those experiences and decisions make a person who they are, and nobody wants to be any different from who they understand themselves to be. In turn, this helps to explain the preference among emerging adults for religion with no demands; such a religion would not require a person to confess or repent of sins or otherwise change their choices or behavior.”)
With this overview of the modern dimensions of the Arian heresy, we now turn back to its antecedents.
The battle still raging from a millennium and a half ago
The immediate background
Though the majority of what is presented below comes from the transcript of Basil’s defense before the Prefect of the Arian Emperor, Valens, handed down to us by Basil’s great friend, Gregory of Nazianzus in his Ortation 43, (The Funeral Oration on the Great S. Basil, Bishop of Cæsarea in Cappadocia), we offer excerpts from Stylianos G. Papadopoulos’ (1933-2012), The Life of A Great Man (Basil of Caesarea), Apostiliki Diakonia, 1979 (pp. 308-320), as it offers a true glimpse into the state of the Church in that era.
The immediate background is well summarized by Newman in Church of the Fathers,
The Arian Emperor, Valens, made a progress through the East, from Constantinople to Antioch, in A.D. 371. 372, with the determination of deposing the Catholic Bishops [Catholic = katá hólos: ‘according to the whole’] in the countries which he traversed; and about the end of the former year he came to Caesarea. The Praetorian Prefect, Modestus, travelled before him, proposing to the Bishops of the cities, which lay on his road, the alternative of communicating with the Arians, or losing their sees.
He summoned Basil into his presence, in his turn, set before him the arguments which had been already found successful wiht others—that is was foolish to resist the times, and to trouble the Church about inconsiderable questions; and he promised him the prince’s favor for him and his friends, if he complied.
Failing by soft language, he adopted a higher tone: be he found his match. Gregory has preserved the dialogue which passed between them.
The Wider Historical Background
The violence and savagery of the Emperor Valens
Until then, Orthodoxy in Cappadocia seemed very much like an islet in the East. Valens let loose the evils of heresy everywhere. The combination of his brutality and cunning brought shocking results. He swept through Orthodoxy and then dug his claws into Caesarea. It’s true to say that the Cappadocians hadn’t really experienced Valens’ savage cruelty yet. When they heard what had happened elsewhere their blood curdled.
The various centres of the empire were subject in reality to the policy of the Arian emperor. This came about because the Orthodox were persecuted; their assets were confiscated; they were harassed and violently constrained. Anyone resisting was removed.
The hate and ferocity knew no bounds. It reached the point where, in Nikomedia, they burnt Orthodox priests on board a ship. In fact, the nearer they got to Caesarea the more vicious their ferocity became. Henchmen of the emperor desecrated the churches. In one city they entered the church, climbed onto the holy altar and danced on top of it. In another church, where the Orthodox priest was doing his best to hinder the desecrators, they murdered and poured human blood onto the holy altar itself. It was the priest who was the victim. Accounts of this violence assailed the ears of the Caesarean Orthodox on a daily basis.
The pressures mounting on St. Basil…while others caved
It must have been around November or December time. The pressures on Saint Basil were unrelenting. One day they insulted him, the next they promised him much.
Before making a decision as to the timing of his final onslaught, Valens attempted various means of winning Saint Basil over. Understandably, he felt the fact that Basil remained the Orthodox Metropolitan of Caesarea was a sign of the failure of his policy, a mockery of his royal prestige. A significant role in the build up of pressure was played by the magistrates, who had entirely become instruments of the emperor. Not that the army was any better.
His stratagems were getting him nowhere and Valens was becoming impatient. He wanted to be finished as quickly as possible with this last remaining locus of resistance, with Basil. So he decided to subdue Cappadocia, Pontos, and Armenia immediately. Of necessity, therefore, the emperor played his last card. He sent Prefect Modestos, the captain of the Praetorian Guard, to Caeserea as his envoy. He knew what he was doing.
Now, Modestos was one of the worst types of people who, in order to keep his position, acted more imperiously than the emperor. In order to serve his master, he was unscrupulous and inhumane. The Church in the East was very well aware of his atrocities.
Once in Caesarea, Modestos took up residence in the Government Headquarters. The confrontation, however, probably took place in the Courts. He ordered them to bring in Saint Basil, who was already prepared.
How Basil became prepared
The bishop had spent the whole night praying. At one point he felt weak at the knees from fear. How would he manage? Would he be able to stand his ground before this beast? A bitter cup is no less bitter even for great people. However, his trepidation passed. The Holy Spirit strengthened him and he began to feel better.
And Modestos? Once he was told, he went to the official hall and sat on the throne, aggressive or, perhaps more, vindictive.
He had, from the outset, to catch Saint Basil off guard. All that he had heard about this man with the sparse frame made him feel less certain. He felt suddenly awkward and a nameless fear stabbed at his heart and refused to let go.
He therefore had to make him succumb from the beginning, in a brusque, arbitrary and harsh manner. To get it over and done with.
Just behind the prefect stood certain official personages: a governor, eunuchs, passed-over judges.
They brought Saint Basil into the chamber. He went boldly up to the throne, but was not provocative; Good-natured, but not smiling.
The confrontation and imperial assault with Basil’s standing firm
Modestos tensed, put iron and ice into his voice and spoke:
“Basil, how dare you—you alone—go against the will of our emperor? Who are you to dare to show your contempt for him?”
Basil understood the tactic: attack and surprise. He was not to be swayed, however. He would impose his own pace on these dreadful proceedings. He would become the rock against which the anger and hatred of the heretics would shatter. He would loom as a symbol for the rights of the Church in the face of the authorities of this world. He therefore demanded specific facts, a clear charge:
Basil “What am I charged with? Where am I at fault, because I don’t know?”
Modestos: “You don’t have the emperor’s faith, even though everyone’s submitted to him now.”
Basil: “I’m behaving like this because my own Emperor doesn’t stoop to the faith of Valens, who worships something created (for the Arians believed that the Son was created).
How can I do so, when I, who am created, have been called upon to become God? I worship the Son as God, not as a created being.”
Modestos: “And what are we, then, who believe the same as the emperor?”
The Bishop’s counters
Basil: “Nothing, as long as you order such goings-on!”
Sweat, anxiety and fury fought in the troubled spirit of the prefect. He began to become confused, as well. This explains his naïve question.
Modestos: “Why don’t you think it important to be on our side, to have us for friends?”.
Basil: “Of course, you’re prefects and among the most powerful, to be sure, but I don’t hold you in higher esteem than God! As the children of God that you are, it’s important for me to have you as friends. Just as important as it is for me to have your subordinates as friends. Christianity doesn’t depend on office, but on the faith of the persons involved.”
With these words, the saint illumined the powerful magnate. He showed him how insignificant he really was and how comical his insolence was becoming.
Modestos realized what was going on. He felt he’d been stripped bare. That the power he used to terrify lesser people had been taken away from him. His anger flared. His veins stood out. All of a sudden he stood up from the throne and, almost inarticulately, menaced the saint.
Modestos: “So, you’re not afraid of my power?”
Basil: “What can you do to me. What will happen?”
Modestos: “What can I do? One of the many things within my jurisdiction.”
Basil: “What’s going to happen to me. Tell me. I want to hear.”
Modestos: “Confiscation of your property, exile, torture, death.”
Basil: “Think of some other threat. These have no influence upon me.
The furious prefect felt those words as a stab to his vitals. He eyes became red, his voice hoarse. His nerves were shot to pieces and nothing around him made any sense. From powerful, he’d become to weak. He felt he was shrinking. He became what he really was: petty. He gathered his strength, however, and whispered:
Modesotos: “How is it that you’re not afraid?”
A poor man loses nothing; a pilgrim can’t be exiled; a man dead rejoices in life
Basil: “Because he runs no risk of confiscation, who has nothing to lose, except these shabby clothes and a few books. That’s all I’ve got in the world, Modestos.
Exile doesn’t terrify the man, who does not make a home of the place where he dwells; but everywhere is a home wherever he is cast; or rather everywhere is God’s home. Even Caesarea, where I’m living now, isn’t mine. So wherever you cast me will be a place of God and I’ll be a pilgrim and a stranger in it.
Torture? And how can that harm a frame so frail as mine, which would break under the first blow?
Death? You could but strike once and death would be my gain. It would but send me the sooner to Him for whom I live and labor, for whom I am dead rather than alive, to whom I have long been journeying.
Modestos: “No one yet ever spoke to Modestos with such boldness.”
Basil seized his opportunity.
Basil: “That’s because you’ve never met a real bishop. If you had, he’d have spoken in the same way, because he’d be struggling for such important things.”
Basil saw how affected the prefect was and toned down his language and lightened the atmosphere.
We Orthodox, Prefect, are kinder and more humble than other people. We’re not arrogant towards the emperor, nor to the least of his subjects.
If our faith in God is in jeopardy, though, we ignore everything else and cleave to it. Then the fire, the executioner’s sword, the wild animals, the torturers tearing at our flesh with their nails all bring us more satisfaction than fear.
So do your worst; whatever it lies in your power to do. Curse me, threaten me as much as you want.
But let the emperor be made aware of this, too: you’ll never make me accept a false faith, however much you threaten me.”
This was the final damper the tragic prefect received from Basil at this dreadful and historic encounter. Numbed, Modestos, like a beaten animal, made a sign to the guards to allow Basil to go free.
What happened to Modestos?
He rose and went to the emperor who was arriving in Caesarea.
He did not hesitate to tell the truth:
“We’ve been defeated, my liege, by the bishop of this Church here. He’s not afraid of threats. He’s more stable than our words, more powerful than our convictions. Let’s threaten some coward, but not Basil. If we want to get anywhere, we’ll have to force him into exile.”
The unforeseen outcome: Persecution prohibited; by worship subdued; with generosity overcome
We now return to Newman:
Modestos parted with him with the respect which firmness necessarily inspires in those who witness it; and going to the emperor repeated the failure of his attempt. A second conversation between the bishop and great officers of the court took place in the presence, as some suppose, of Valens himself, who had generosity enough to admire his high spirit, and to dismiss him without punishment.
Indeed, his admiration of Basil occasioned a fresh trial of the archbishop’s constancy, more distressing, perhaps, than any which he had hitherto undergone. On the feast of Epiphany, he attended, with all his court, the church where Basil offered the Holy Sacrifice, and heard his sermon. The collected air of the Bishop, the devotion of the clergy, the numbers and the attention of the congregation, and the power of their voices, fairly overcame him, and he almost fainted away.
At the Offertory he made an effort to approach the altar to present his oblation; but none of the ministers of the church presenting themselves to receive it from him, his limbs again gave way, and it was only by the assistance of one of them that he was kept from falling.
It cannot be too much insisted on that the Church gains the respect of the great, not by unduly courting them, but by treating them as her children. It would be a satisfaction, however, to be able to indulge a hope that the good feelings of the emperor were more than the excitement of the moment; but his persevering persecution of the Catholics for years afterwards forgids the favorable supposition. Yet it was not once only that he trembled before the majestic presence of the Exarch of Caesarea. Miracles and supernatural favors are said to have been displayed.
Modestos became the saint’s friend; Cappadocia was secured, in great measure, from the sufferings with which the Catholics elsewhere were visited, and some of the best of the imperial lands in the neighborhood were made over for the endowment of an hospital which Basil had founded for lepers (Ch. 2, Basil the Great, pp. 17-19).
An incredible series of events. The persecution which ravaged much of the empire does not so much as touch Cappadocia. The power of the emperor brought to a state of utter weakness and impotence before the altar of God amidst the faithful proclamation of the Word the praises of His people. The lands of the Prefect himself becoming the very grounds of a hospital for the poorest and most outcast sector in the ancient world.
The paradox of Orthodoxy.
In the words of the Apostle with which we close,
Has not God made foolish the wisdom of this world?
For since, in the wisdom of God, the world through wisdom did not know God, it pleased God through the foolishness of the message preached to save those who believe.
For Jews request a sign, and Greeks seek after wisdom; but we preach Christ crucified, to the Jews a scandal and to the Greeks foolishness, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.
Because the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men (I Cor 1:20-25),
Amen!
And Amen!
May this same weakness of God so work in us that it become stronger than men as we are strengthened in the Lord and in the power of His might.
So that, like Basil before us, may we
be able to stand against the schemes (methodeía) of the devil and take up the whole armor (panoplía) of God that we may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand (Eph 6:10-11, 13).
Appendix: Seven spiritual beliefs of young adults, Melinda Lundquist Denton and Richard Flory, The Christian Century, April 8, 2020:
Karma is real. In our interviews, many emerging adults explicitly mentioned their belief in karma, while others expressed a similar idea, such as “everything happens for a reason,” or some related perspective that suggests belief in some spiritual or perhaps undefinable supernatural force that generally works to make for a just and ordered world.
Their view of karma is a popularized version that is not particularly true to its actual religious meaning. It is a way to explain how the bad things and the good things that happen in their lives tend to balance out. The concept of karma operates as a quasi-moral code that provides them with both some sense of the necessity to treat other people well or to otherwise do good (or at least not harmful) things in the world and an explanation—a nonreligious theodicy of sorts—for why good people ultimately end up having good things happen to them and bad people end up having bad things happen to them.
Everybody goes to heaven. In the view of most emerging adults, going to heaven is generally a result of how you act in the world rather than being related to any specific religious teachings about heaven, hell, or the afterlife. While emerging adults tend to express a belief that people go to heaven because of their good works on earth, they also believe it is the rare person who does not go to heaven.
Rather than there being some sort of ledger that weighs a person’s good actions against their bad actions—such as in their version of karma—being kept out of heaven is determined by whether a person performs actions that are unforgiveable. This punishment is mostly reserved for murderers, rapists, and other people who have hurt another person in a significant way.
Just do good. The golden rule for emerging adults is to be good to other people and to treat them fairly. This is related to their beliefs about karma and who goes to heaven as well as to the conviction that the most important moral code is not to hurt anyone. That is, if you treat people well, you increase your odds of going to heaven. But, more than this, being good to others is an expected way to live and act, although the particular elements of “treating others well” are largely undefined. This outlook has persisted throughout the course of this ten-year study, as exemplified most memorably when one teenager told us that his perspective on life boiled down to: “You know, don’t be an asshole.”
It’s all good. We’ve all heard the saying, “It’s all good,” usually as a replacement for saying something like, “Everything’s OK,” or “Don’t worry about it.” This phrase also highlights how emerging adults strive to live their lives as nonjudgmentally as possible.
For emerging adults, “It’s all good” means that other people can believe whatever they want or act how they want—and as long as they aren’t hurting others, it is seen as no problem. Two key tenets of life are exemplified in this approach: tolerance and acceptance. It doesn’t matter if they agree with others on religion, politics, whatever; it’s all good.
Religion is easy. According to most emerging adults, maintaining one’s religious life is “pretty easy,” primarily because their understanding of religion imposes no significant demands on them. For emerging adults, one takes what one wants from religion and leaves behind anything that is irrelevant or inapplicable to one’s life or that goes against one’s own sense of what is right or wrong. Emerging adults don’t want religious organizations to tell them what to do or believe, particularly on issues like gender identity, sexuality, abortion, and marriage.
Further, religion and spirituality constitute just one part of life, and not necessarily the most important one. In the end, you get—or take—what you want from religion. Again, some people are more religious, some more spiritual, but overall, whatever they are, it’s all good. And the equanimity is easy to maintain.
Morals are self-evident. Emerging adults adhere to the idea that morals and values are self-evident—you just know, or feel, what is right and wrong—even though they’re all relative. In some ways, this is related to emerging adults’ perspective on the ease of maintaining their religious and spiritual lives. Because morals and values are self-evident, they ultimately don’t present any sort of dilemma when confronted with making a moral decision—you just know.
This all sounds pretty relativistic, and in some ways it is—although there are limits. Emerging adults also say that it is not OK to cheat in order to benefit personally. But this, too, is self-evident for emerging adults because it would go against their commitment to treating others well.
No regrets. If “It’s all good” is one mantra, a related one is “No regrets.” In fact, having regrets is something that most emerging adults at least imply would be a negative thing in their lives. This seems to be related to their belief in karma, in that there is some force, or cosmic logic, that evens things out and helps make sense of the inequities and bad things that happen to a person. All of the life experiences a person has had are what have made them who they are, and if any of those were changed, they would be a different person. Certainly, some acknowledge decisions and choices they may have made that weren’t great, or things that didn’t work out, or opportunities they wish they had pursued. But, taken together, all of those experiences and decisions make a person who they are, and nobody wants to be any different from who they understand themselves to be. In turn, this helps to explain the preference among emerging adults for religion with no demands; such a religion would not require a person to confess or repent of sins or otherwise change their choices or behavior.