LEARNING FROM THE WISDOM OF THE SERPANT

Part 2 of Fr. Chad Arneson hit-piece against my friend, Annie Crawford is here (patristicorthodoxy.subs…) and continues the web of misunderstandings and non sequiturs that characterize his antipathy to alchemistic symbolism in literature.

For a reality check, my fellow-parishioner Olivia Wetzel has showed that alchemy has been a deeply religious practice consonant with Christian symbology. (olivia173.substack.com/…). Through a string of excellent articles, Wetzel has been demonstrating that if you want to understand the intellectual world that men such as C.S. Lewis and Shakespeare inhabited, you need to understand about alchemy, as well as medieval cosmology.

As you might guess, we have something of a fascination with alchemy, and even medieval magic, at our parish. And this has great utility value even outside the context of literary criticism: one friend is using medieval magic to create a fantasy world for a TTRG, while I employed research on medieval magic to better understand AI in chapter 12 of Are We All Cyborgs Now?

Is there a danger of naive assimilation of concepts from alchemy and occult learning? Of course, and that danger should not be overstated now that so many “traditional Catholics” are dabbling in magical practices as a purported antidote to modernism (though it’s possible this movement is being unnaturally amplified online). But the danger on the other side should also not be understated. What Dr. Alastair Roberts noted in the context of engaging secular psychology, specifically Freud, is equally applicable when engaging with the incomplete or even mistaken frameworks of our medieval forebears. (theopolisinstitute.com/…

"God did not just deliver a large set of proverbs to Solomon to write, but gave him understanding and breadth of heart, by which he was able to perceive and speak of the grain of reality itself (1 Kings 4:29). The revelation was fundamentally given in reality itself, mediated by eyes that were divinely awakened to it. In this task of perceiving reality, while Solomon may have enjoyed a remarkable divine gift of insight, he was not engaged in a fundamentally different task from the wise men of surrounding nations, nor enjoying an essentially different revelation from that which they too had received in creation. His wisdom exceeded theirs, but they still possessed wisdom. Unsurprisingly, the greater wisdom of Israel (and Solomon) attracted people from other nations, who recognized that Solomon and Israel were more advanced in the investigations to which they too had committed themselves (1 Kings 4:30-34; cf. Deuteronomy 4:6). Israel’s advantage over the pagan nations in the task of wisdom came from their attunement to the depths of reality when they began with the Law and the fear of the Lord. Despite their initial advantage in the task of wisdom, Israel still had much to learn from other peoples who pursued wisdom, even those who were wicked and rejected the fear of the Lord. While such ‘wisdom’ is ultimately founded upon foolishness, even the enemies of the Lord have insight into reality from which we must learn. Wisdom is not only associated with the righteousness of prudent and good rulers, but with the cunning and the shrewdness of serpents. The serpent in Eden had a form of wisdom twisted away from its proper ends, which was ultimately self-destructive. However, it was a form of wisdom nonetheless, and the serpent excelled all other creatures in this respect. The disciples of Christ are instructed to emulate the wisdom of serpents, while retaining the innocence of doves (Matthew 10:16). Christ also commends the shrewdness of persons such as the unjust steward as an example to the children of light who are often naïve by comparison with the unrighteous children of this generation (Luke 16:8).... One of the features of the Isaianic eschatological vision is the coexistence of predator and prey animals together in the new heavens and the new earth, so that the lion lies down with the lamb and the toddler can play at the viper’s nest. This vision describes the ‘domestication’ of the wild world beyond the garden, so that beasts will no longer hurt and harm. We are not yet in this eschatological order, but there are ways in which we are called to tame the wild beasts that we discover in the world. A thinker like Freud, for instance, might be compared to an ornery and stubborn mule, who, if not broken by a skilled person, will prove unmanageable and may cause a great deal more damage than he is worth. However, if carefully broken, he could bear some burdens around for us and live in our stables. Yet, while he may reside in our stables, we will not admit him into the house.”

(You can read the rest of my reply to Fr. Chad Arneson at substack.com/@robinmark…).