With respect, it depends on the apologist and their intended audience. Certainly St. Thomas Aquinas’s Summa Theologiae can be considered a form of apologetics, and yet no one would claim that it was simple. Likewise St. Augustine in the City of God did not address his issues simply.
Well, first of all both the Summas (the SCG has a clearer apologetic focus) were in fact intended to be simple. They aren’t simple by our standards, but they were relatively clear and simple compared to other works of medieval philosophy. However, I take your point. Note that I’m speaking of
apologists, by which I mean primarily professional apologists. This is really a modern invention–I think that the people who bill themselves primarily as apologists owe more to Madison Avenue than to Hippo or the Sorbonne. Traditionally apologetics was done by people with other responsibilities–scholars, pastors, etc.–who felt the need to defend some point under attack. My main concern is with the way apologetics have become an industry in themselves, and you find people (especially on the Internet) whose only interest in the Christian tradition seems to be searching it for ammunition to use against some supposed enemy.
Apologetics has to be done, but it’s best done by those who are working out of a broader and more edifying discipline. Augustine and Aquinas are obvious examples of this–C. S. Lewis is another. Fulton Sheen would be another–he was an effective apologist in large part because he was a pastor. Peter Kreeft and Scott Hahn–to name two of the better Catholic apologists working today–are both academics. I’m not saying that apologetics are wrong, but that in and of itself they have a tendency to make people less ardent lovers of truth and more ardent lovers of victory. They should be incidental rather than central to one’s intellectual life.
Further I would argue that historians in fact do operate adversarily. Perhaps their arguments unfold over longer time scales and generally are more hidden. While there is a relatively large audience for history books, most history books and almost journal articles are targeted at a much narrower professional audience and many of those works make progress by attacking the work of another historian.
Very true, and in an increasingly overcrowded and competitive scholarly world this can be a serious temptation. But nonetheless, this adversarial quality is incidental to the historian’s task. The purpose of writing a book is to shed light on some subject. Obviously in order to do that you need to say something that hasn’t been said before (unless, as you note, you are writing for a general audience and simply digesting the work of others). But this is only incidentally adversarial–you also need to build on the work of others. And in principle you have to be open to agreeing even with people whose arguments you find unappealing, and disagreeing with people you would love to agree with. I, for instance, have a great love of high-church Anglicanism. I’d love to be able to endorse the Anglo-Catholic interpretation of sixteenth-century Anglicanism. But I can’t, because for the most part it’s historically indefensible. (Obviously this argument can’t be pushed too far, because one’s own motives are always complicated.)
I would say that I think you might have a little too much esteem for your own profession. I saw plenty of that when studying history was my full time occupation.
I never disputed that historians do this. My argument is that they do this because they are sinful and fallible human beings. But it remains true that the discipline of historical scholarship works against this tendency, while the discipline (if we can call it that) of professional apologetics enflames it.
Is my argument idealistic? Sure. I’m describing historical scholarship without the many factors that can and often do corrupt it. I’m describing the intrinsic tendency of the discipline. I’m also describing my own experience, even though I got my Ph.D. from Duke, which is usually considered one of the most postmodern schools out there. I’m sorry your experience was different!
In Christ,
Edwin