Head and Heart

Perspectives from Religion and Psychology

Fraser Watts, Geoff Dumbreck, Fraser Watts, Geoff Dumbreck

• Publisher: Templeton Press
• Year: 2013
• ISBN:
  9781599474489
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Religion

Theologians and religious figures often draw a distinction between religion of the '"head" and religion of the "heart, " but few stop to ask what the terms "head" and "heart" actually denote. Many assume that this distinction has a scriptural basis, and yet many Biblical authors used the word "heart" as a synonym for "mind." In fact, there isn't a strict separation of the two concepts until the modern period, as in Pascal's famous claim that "the heart has its reasons that reason can not know." Since then, many other philosophers and theologians have made a similar distinction.
The fact that this distinction has been so persistent makes it an important area of study. Head and Heart: Perspectives from Religion and Psychology takes an inter-disciplinary ap­proach, linking the thinking of theologians and philosophers with theory and research in present-day psychology. The tradition of using framing questions that have been developed in theology and philosophy can now be brought into dialogue with scientific approaches developed within cognitive psy­chology and neuroscience. Though these scientific approaches have not generally used the terms "head" and "heart, " they have arrived at a similar distinction in other ways. There is a notable convergence upon the realization that humans have two modes of cognition at their disposal that correspond to "head" and "heart." The time is therefore ripe to bring the approaches of theology and science in to dialogue—an impor­tant dialogue that has been heretofore neglected.
Head and Heart draws on the unique expertise in relating theology and psychology of the University of Cambridge's Psychology and Religion Research Group (PRRG). In addi­tion to providing historical and theoretical perspectives, the contributors to this volume will also address practical issues arising from the group's applied work in deradicalisation and religious education.
Contributors include Geoff Dumbreck, Nicholas J. S. Gibson, Malcolm Guite, Liz Gulliford, Russell Re Manning, Glendon L. Moriarty, Sally Myers, Sara Savage, Carissa A. Sharp, Fraser Watts, Harris Wiseman, and Bonnie Poon Zahl.

PART 1

Theology

Head and Heart in Christian Theology

1

GEOFF DUMBRECK

In the introduction, we noted the ubiquity of the distinction between “head” and “heart.” Many assume, without any serious reflection, that this has been a feature of Christian thought since the early church. In fact, the biblical authors and the church fathers saw little difference between the “heart” and what we might now call “mind.” The distinction owes far more to comparatively recent theologians like Pascal, Wesley, Edwards, and the Romantics. We will consider several of these “theologians of the heart” in more detail here, focusing on the unique or innovative features of their accounts. Yet we will also point to some common themes, considering their continuity with other important strands of the Christian tradition. This will inevitably provide an incomplete series of “snapshots” rather than a comprehensive picture, but it should set the scene for the rest of this volume.

BACKGROUND

Given that the Bible is of crucial importance to the theologians considered here, it is important to begin with scriptural references to the “heart.” The Old Testament is replete with figurative references to lev.¹ This is roughly equivalent to the English term “heart,” but is usually used to mean “intellect.” Take, for example, this proverb, as translated in the King James Version:

Wisdom resteth in the heart of him that hath understanding: but that which is in the midst of fools is made known. (Proverbs 14:33)²

Because, in modern English, we associate thoughts with our “heads” or “minds,” many recent editions translate lev as “mind” when it is used in this sense. The author of this proverb does not mean that wisdom belongs to the heart as opposed to the mind; he simply uses the word for “heart” to denote what we would usually call the “mind.” Although this seems counterintuitive, there is a parallel in the English phrase, “to learn by heart.”

Elsewhere, lev is used to denote a range of human experiences. It may denote the will (for example, 2 Chronicles 12:14 or Job 11:13), the conscience (1 Samuel 24:5), or personal character (Jeremiah 12:3 or Isaiah 38:3). In a few cases it is used, as we now frequently find it, to symbolize emotions and feelings (Judges 16:25). But, more importantly, lev may also denote the whole person. Thus Solomon prays to the God of Israel, who keeps “covenant and steadfast love for your servants who walk before you with all their heart” (1 Kings 8:23).

We find a similar picture in the New Testament. The Greek word for heart, καρδία, is also used to denote the mind (Matthew 13:15), conscience (1 John 3:19–20), and emotion (John 14:1). There are instances where “heart” and “mind” are in the same sentence, which might suggest that the authors were drawing a distinction between the two. For example, in Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus identifies the greatest commandment as, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind” (Matthew 22:37). This appears to be a paraphrase of a verse in Deuteronomy: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might” (Deuteronomy 6:5).

Instead of “and with all your might,” Matthew includes the phrase “and with all your mind,” even though he has already referred to the “heart.” The equivalent passages in the Gospels of Mark (12:30) and Luke (10:27) also introduce a reference to the mind, while retaining the reference to strength. Yet there is an explanation that suggests there is no real distinction between “heart” and “mind” in these passages. The presence of both terms may stem from a conflation of the original Hebrew, which refers to heart, soul, and might, and the Greek of the Septuagint, which refers to mind (διανοίασ), soul, and power (see Allen 1912). If this is the case, “heart” and “mind” are not opposed, but identical.

Notably, in the epistles, Paul identifies the “heart” as the location of the Holy Spirit within Christian believers. Thus he observes, “hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us” (Romans 5:5). Paul is not afraid to draw an ontological distinction between Christians and non-Christians, describing the former group as being “in the Spirit” or “in Christ.” At the same time, he emphasizes the limitations of the “head” in religious matters. In this life, we cannot hope for anything more than a distorted picture of God:

For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. (1 Corinthians 13:12, KJV)

Biblical language about the heart unsurprisingly found its way into the works of major early Christian theologians. Perhaps the most prominent example is St. Augustine of Hippo (AD 354–430). Augustine shared Paul’s belief that the heart is God’s “land” or dwelling place within us, and in his autobiographical work, the Confessions (republished 1998), he declares to God: “I was seeking you outside myself, and I failed to find ‘the God of my heart’” (VI.i,1). This stance is informed by his conception of divine grace. Humans cannot find God by themselves. Rather, he penetrates our hearts, and we discover him there.

Like the Old and New Testament writers, Augustine uses the word “heart” (cor) to denote the intellect, the will, and the emotions. Yet he is adamant that religion is not rooted in a passing attitude, momentary determination of will, or fleeting passion. It requires firmly held conviction:

My love for you, Lord, is not an uncertain feeling but a matter of conscious certainty. With your word you pierced my heart, and I loved you. (X.vi,8)

Notably, when Augustine makes this claim that God has pierced his heart, he does not mean that God has pierced his mind alone, or will alone, or emotion alone. His point is that God penetrates every aspect of our inner life, and that our love of God should likewise encompass every aspect of our inner life. As with Christ’s commandment to love God with all one’s heart, soul, and mind, Augustine’s focus is on the unity of the different facets of the human person in response to God.

This central point is emphasized by Augustine’s treatment of what we have called the “head.” Augustine elucidates the limitations and capabilities of unaided reason in his treatise On the Holy Trinity (republished 1887). On the one hand, God created us with powers of reason, which teach us that the immortal is preferable to the mortal, the righteous to the unrighteous, the good to the evil, and so forth (XV.iv,6). On the other, God remains incomprehensible. Augustine reiterates St. Paul’s claims that we can only glimpse God as a distorted image in the present world (XV.8,14), and that Christians are distinguished by faith (XV.18,32). This faith must be underpinned by love, which is not attributed to the head or heart, or indeed any natural human faculty, but is portrayed as a gift of the Holy Spirit.

SHARPENING THE DISTINCTION

The French theologian, philosopher, and mathematician Blaise Pascal (1623–1662) is central to any discussion of theology and the heart. He shares St. Paul and St. Augustine’s emphasis on faith and divine grace, but he draws a much sharper distinction between the heart and the intellect than we find in the Bible or church fathers. In the Pensées (republished 1950), he famously declares that “the heart has its own reasons which Reason does not know; a thousand things declare it” (§626). Crucially, although he claims that God “plants” religion in both the mind, “by argument,” and the heart, “by grace” (Apology §1), he ultimately identifies faith as a matter for the heart. As he puts it, “’tis the heart, not reason, that feels God. This is Faith: God felt by the heart, not by reason” (§627).

This is not to say that Pascal was averse to rational argument.³ His famous wager is an argument for religious belief. He asks us to consider the consequences of nonbelief in a God who actually exists, and belief in a God who does not. Since an existent God would have the power to grant eternal life, it is better to wager that He exists, for then “if you win, you win all; if you lose, you lose naught” (§223). Later, Pascal outlines several proofs for religion, Christianity, and Judeo-Christian scripture. He argues that, of the three routes to belief (reason, habit, and revelation), Christianity alone has reason (§243). More generally, he praises human thought as the basis of “man’s greatness” (§169).

Yet Pascal admits that proofs of Christianity “are not of such a kind that we can declare them to be absolutely convincing” (§643). They point toward religion, but they do not constitute religion, and acceptance of proofs does not, in itself, make someone religious. That requires a change of heart:

And therefore those upon whom God has bestowed religion by cordial feeling are very fortunate, and are quite fairly convinced. But to those who lack religion we can only give it by process of reason, waiting till God makes it felt by the heart, without which faith is but human, and unavailing for salvation. (§630)

Pascal has the same attitude toward prophecies and miracles. While these provide stronger evidence for Christianity than for any other religion, showing the error of nonbelief, they are not responsible for belief (§643). Christianity is, in this sense, both “wise” and “foolish.” On the one hand, “it is the most learned, and the best established through miracles and prophecies.” On the other, “that is not what makes us Christians.” Reason shows the error of nonbelief, but the ground of belief is “the Cross” (§245).

In these passages, Pascal emphasizes that religion is God-given. It is bestowed upon the heart of each believer, and upon humanity through the cross. As such, although one might assume that a religion of the “heart” would be individualistic and anthropocentric, that is not Pascal’s position; one cannot truly experience religion without God’s grace. By contrast, philosophy is characterized by egotism. Although philosophers claim “God alone is worthy of love and admiration,” their real desire is “to be loved and admired by men” (§281).

The same distinction between philosophy and Christianity is found in the “memorial”—a document found sewn into Pascal’s coat after his death. It is an account of a mystical experience that he underwent on November 23, 1654, and differentiates between the God of Judeo-Christian faith and the abstract God of philosophical enquiry:

From about half past ten at night until about half past twelve, / Fire. / God of Abraham, God of Isaac, God of Jacob / not of the philosophers and the learned. / Certitude, certitude; feeling, joy, peace. (Adversaria §2)

Pascal’s recollection of this striking experience doubtless reinforced his view that the critics of Christianity were misguided. As he explains in the Pensées, they failed to understand “the nature of the religion they attack before attacking it.” They demanded evidence for God, even though Christians profess that he is hidden. Without denigrating reason, Pascal firmly challenged these rationalists, acclaiming the heart as a superior authority in religious matters.

Like Pascal, Wesley (1703–91, the founder of Methodism) underwent a life-changing religious experience. He described it in his journal as a change within his heart:

In the evening I went very unwillingly to a society in Aldersgate Street, where one was reading Luther’s preface to the Epistle to the Romans. About a quarter before nine, while the leader was describing the change which God works in the heart through faith in Christ, I felt my heart strangely warmed. I felt I did trust in Christ alone for salvation; and an assurance was given me that He had taken away my sins, even mine, and saved me from the law of sin and death. (Wesley, republished 1981)

Because of this emphasis on feeling, and because he was critical of the rationalism of his day, Wesley is often portrayed as hostile to reason and knowledge. Even in his lifetime, the Cambridge theologian Thomas Rutherford protested that Methodists thought “human learning was rather an impediment than otherwise.”⁴ Certainly, Wesley was attuned to the limits of human reason; in a sermon on St. Paul’s remark that “we know in part,” he asks God to “open our own eyes to discern our own ignorance” (1985–87, Sermon 69).

However, we ought not to interpret such polemical proclamations out of context, as an indiscriminate condemnation of reason. For Wesley’s uncompromising rhetoric often masks a more nuanced position. In one sermon, for example, he rages against thinkers with a positive view of the human heart, insisting that the heart of “every natural man” is wicked—no less today than four thousand years ago (Sermon 128). Yet he balances this, observing that God purifies the hearts of the faithful, conquering their sin without destroying it completely. The believer’s heart is transformed by God from a state of wickedness to one of “righteousness and true holiness.”

Similarly, in “The Case of Reason Impartially Considered,” he balances his clear warning that reason can lead us astray by bemoaning the number of critics of reason within the church. By Wesley’s estimation, “never was there a greater number of these in the Christian Church, at least in Britain, than at this day” (Sermon 70). In this sermon, Wesley tries to identify a middle way between those who dismiss reason and those whose excessive confidence in reason leads them to dismiss the truths expressed in revelation.

Before offering his solution, however, he defines the word “reason” more closely. First, it is a synonym for “argument”; one might, for instance, be asked to give a reason for one’s actions or beliefs. Second, and more importantly, it is used as a synonym for “understanding” (including the powers of apprehension, judgment, and discourse). Understood in this second sense, reason is essential to many earthly pursuits, but its religious value is less immediately obvious.

Reason is certainly not the basis of Christianity. Wesley is unequivocal that “true religion stands upon the oracles of God”—namely, the prophets, apostles, and Christ himself. Yet we need reason in order to interpret and communicate their words. With the aid of the Holy Spirit, reason helps us to comprehend the scriptural accounts of God’s attributes, the nature of faith and repentance, our duties toward others, and so forth. For Wesley, as for Pascal, it is a “precious gift” from God, “fixed in our souls for excellent purposes.” To denigrate reason is to do a disservice to God.

That said, reason has a crucial limitation. It produces neither faith (defined here as a “conviction of things not seen”), nor the hope that derives from faith, nor the love of God that derives from both, nor the love of man that derives from all three. Wesley claims to have discovered this through bitter personal experience. Having collected together rational arguments for God’s existence, he found himself unable to reach certainty on any matter and “was ready to choose strangling rather than life.”

He elaborates on the nature of faith in a further sermon, stressing that the faith required for salvation entails more than the accep...