H.L. Mencken once famously said of Abraham Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address, “It is genuinely stupendous. But let us not forget that it is poetry, not logic; beauty, not sense.” What Mencken rightly noticed was the ability of words to persuade us to a certain position without actually demonstrating how that position is the logical conclusion of the facts at hand.
Earlier this week Eric Metaxas, noted biographer and evangelical rock-star, posted an opinion piece in the Christian Post on the subject of how pastors ought to respond to the ongoing redefinition of marriage debate. Metaxas’ article was in direct response to the news that both John Piper and Leith Anderson have publicly declined to endorse the amendment.
It will become clear that I believe Metaxas’ position is in error, but a discussion of the marriage amendment is not my primary reason for entering the fray. My greatest concern with Metaxas’ article is not the position he takes on the marriage issue but the rhetorical techniques he employs to defend it. These unhelpful techniques are not unique to Metaxas but are commonly employed by many of us and we ought to be careful to avoid them. What follows is an attempt to facilitate careful consideration of what I consider to be linguistic slight-of-hand tricks.
Metaxas’ position is that churches and pastors should speak publicly in favor of the Minnesota marriage amendment. He writes:
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…the battle has moved to Minnesota. This November, an amendment to define marriage as being between a man and a woman will be on the ballot. You would expect pastors in the Land of 10,000 Lakes to take a clear stand.
Unbelievably, a couple of evangelical stalwarts are electing to sit this fight out-choosing not to endorse the amendment.
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First, Metaxas implicitly, but repeatedly, suggests his position as one so obviously correct that it needs no defense. He provides no Biblical texts in support of his position nor any logically compelling rationale for why his response is the right one.
He begins by making an implicit appeal anticipating (rightly so) that most Christians will simply assume that the church ought to do as he suggests. Rather than examining that assumption carefully he relies instead on exclamation points, rhetorical questions, and indignation as his primary tools of persuasion. Consider his purpose in using the phrases “you would expect” and “unbelievably.”
Second, in the absence of a Biblical or logical defense he relies heavily on the persuasive value of emotional appeals to anecdotal stories and quotations. Consider how he responds to Piper and Anderson:
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During a recent sermon, Rev. Piper said “Don’t press the organization of the church or her pastors into political activism . . . Expect from your shepherds not that they would rally you behind political candidates or legislative mandates, but they would point you over and over again to God and to his word.”
I’m all for pointing people to God’s Word-surely we need that! But is attempting to protect marriage from a dangerous redefinition mere political activism? Anderson warned that “churches should seek to be nonpartisan in their approach to teaching moral truths.” Agreed! But defending marriage is not a partisan activity!
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Piper and Anderson take the position that churches should direct their people to clear Biblical truths and that the examination of candidates and legislative mandates in light of those truths is the responsibility of the individual Christian. Though Metaxas uses brief quotations from each man (there’s nothing wrong with that) they defend their position from Scripture’s teaching on the duties of the church and the purpose of preaching (1 Corinthians 2:2, 2 Tim 4:2, Mark 12:17, Romans 10:14-15). Christians may disagree on the application of these scriptural principles but we ought to be attempting to persuade one another with Scripture and logic rather than the tools Metaxas employs.
In response to a Biblically-established argument set forth by Piper and Anderson, Metaxas offers an undefended absolute: “But defending marriage is not a partisan activity!” Perhaps not, but could the defense of a particular legislative marriage amendment be? That question is unexamined by the author. In defense of his position Metaxas offers only a quotation by the late Chuck Colson (“…marriage is a central pillar of our civilization, and if we allow it to be redefined, the religious liberty of all will be imperiled”) and a story about a particular situation in Canada.
H.L. Mencken once famously said of Abraham Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address, “It is genuinely stupendous. But let us not forget that it is poetry, not logic; beauty, not sense.” What Mencken rightly noticed was the ability of words to persuade us to a certain position without actually demonstrating how that position is the logical conclusion of the facts at hand.
The first half of Metaxas’ article is an illustration from history which he intends to use to demonstrate the gravity of the current situation. In reality, the story has little logical connection to the issue at hand other than the general observation that sometimes pastors need to speak up in the culture. What this illustration does accomplish well is to ratchet up the stakes by several orders of magnitude. At the end of the opening illustration Metaxas himself admits his objective: “No, we’re not facing a Hitler, but the stakes are still very high.”
This brings me to a third rhetorical trick employed in the article: when making an appeal based on emotions rather than logic it is always helpful to invoke Hitler. Metaxas both begins and ends the article by harkening our thoughts back to Nazi Germany. Consider these appeals in light of my first critique regarding the implicit arguments being made throughout the piece. Metaxas invokes the strong image of Nazi Germany because he expects that we will all immediately recognize that the pastors in Nazi Germany should have spoken out against Hitler rather than remaining silent. It seems as if he hopes that we will apply the same conclusion to the current situation.
Illustrations and stories are good rhetorical tools when they help us to see the issues at hand with greater clarity. But appeals to accounts of Hitler and the Nazis more often have the opposite effect. Because of our general – and rightful – cultural disdain for all things Hitler, we find ourselves with a subconscious intellectual dilemma. Stopping for a moment to consider whether or not the situations are rightly comparable might give the appearance that we are sympathetic to those on the wrong side of history. The intellectual effect is this: we believe that if we seriously consider defending pastors who would say nothing about the marriage amendment we might also have been inclined to defend the pastors who allowed the Nazis to advance their agenda unopposed. Thus we recoil in horror from any serious consideration of the matter.
Incidentally, there may be a tendency to give Metaxas a pass on this one considering that he is the author of a recent, and popular, biography on Dietrich Bonhoeffer. I would suggest that his familiarity with the historical era puts a heavier burden of responsibility on Metaxas when it comes to invoking images of Hitler and Nazis in religious discussions.
Finally, Metaxas concludes with the ultimate and all-to-common rhetorical trap: the false choice. Consider his concluding lines:
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As Bonhoeffer and like-minded German Christians knew, there comes a time to choose. Pastors: Choose courage, not silence.
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Metaxas offers ministers only two choices and he offers them using incomparable terms. He offers the choices of courage and silence, but these are not natural opposites. They do, however, allow him to sound more gracious than he would otherwise sound by offering the choice in its more logical terms: courage or cowardice. If speaking out in favor of the Minnesota marriage amendment is courage then failing to do so is clearly uncourageous. By again invoking the World War II analogy at this critical moment of choice he implicitly suggests that the results of a wrong choice will be comparatively disastrous.
The starkness of his concluding appeal would be less jarring had he defended his conclusions with something more than rhetorical tricks. The fact that he draws such clear lines in the sand without the slightest meaningful defense of his position is insulting to anyone who desires to take his appeal seriously. If what Metaxas wants is for the reader to adopt his position he ought to approach the subject in a more helpful way. Begin by explaining the nature of the issues at hand, then offer the Biblical support for his position, and, if its his desire to gain signatories for the Manhattan Declaration, show how the MD advances those Biblical conclusions.
Let us not treat Metaxas’ article as if it is an anomaly in Christian debates. Most of us are guilty of approaching important subjects in less than helpful ways. In avoidance of the rhetorical tricks critiqued above, we ought to approach our attempts to persuade others more carefully and systematically: clearly explain the issue, examine the relevant Biblical principles, and show how our position is a logical response to each. There is certainly room in the Christian church for disagreement on a wide variety of secondary issues – but when we discuss them, let’s do so fairly and purposefully.
Paul Mulner is a minister in the Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church and serves as pastor of Covenant of Grace Presbyterian in Winston-Salem.