HOLINESS AND SYSTEMIC EVIL:
A RESPONSE TO ALBERT TRUESDALE

By
William Hasker

I would like to begin with some personal references which may help to clarify both the perspective from which I am replying to Professor Truesdale's paper, and the possible limitations of the reply. First, I am by trade a philosopher rather than a theologian; theologically speaking you will get more questions from me than answers. Second, while I identify my theological stance as Arminian, much of my study and training has been in the Reformed tradition and I find myself sympathetic to many of the emphases and insights of that tradition in spite of the rather profound differences concerning such matters as free will and divine decrees. Finally, I want to say that while I have read in Wesley with blessing and profit, I am by no means able to give an independent evaluation of Professor Truesdale's construal of Wesley's thought.

I find that I have just one major comment to make, and this comment begins very nearly at the point where Professor Truesdale's paper ends! Before coming to that, however, I want to express my appreciation for the material in the paper. Professor Truesdale's narration of the development of the dynamic conception of the self leads us with clarity and purpose through material which has the potential to be highly confusing. His depiction of systemic evil as it manifests itself in contemporary society is forceful and convincing, and his suggestion for connecting this conception of evil with Pauline theology is thought-provoking. Also commendable is his effort to demonstrate the affinity in Wesley's thought with the dynamic view of the self and the conception of systemic evil. About this part of the paper I have one caveat and one observation. My caveat concerns the claim, quoted with approval from Runyon, that in Luther and Calvin there is a "split . . . between the transcendent realm in which our salvation is actually occurring, and this world, which is in effect bracketed out of salvation history" (p. 33). This may be roughly correct as applied to Luther, but I think it unfair to Calvin and the Reformed tradition. The emphasis on common grace and on the "cultural mandate," as well as the repeated attempts, from Geneva on down, to bring about a Christianized social order testify to the Reformed belief in the relevance of salvation to life in this world. The observation is this: I think it is not clear, from the material cited by Truesdale, just how much of the notion of "systemic evil" should be attributed to Wesley. Certainly it is important that Wesley recognized the widespread social evils of his own day and addressed them in his ministry. But the notion of systemic evil carries us a step beyond this, to the recognition that the valid and necessary institutions of society have such evils as racism, sexism and economic exploitation built into them in ways that may defy our power to eliminate. It may be that Wesley took this further step, but the claim that he did so requires evidence beyond what is cited in Truesdale's paper.

And now I come to my comment. When I first heard the title of Professor Truesdale's paper a question occurred to me. The question was this: Is there perhaps an inconsistency or incompatibility of some kind between the Wesleyan doctrine of holiness and the recognition of systemic evil? It seemed to me that there might well be, and I thought that the paper itself would throw some light on this perplexing question. When I received the paper I found that it did not, as I had expected, provide an answer for my question. On the contrary, it seems to me that Truesdale himself, in the concluding pages of his paper, is in effect inviting us to consider that same question. Let me explain why I think this.

Professor Truesdale identifies Wesley's concept of sin as an aspect of Wesley's thought "to which we should look for help." It turns out that the help is not really to be found in Wesley's thought; rather, it is a correction of Wesley's thought in the light of the notion of systemic evil. Wesley's idea of sin is ambiguous in that he has both a "narrow" and a "wider" view of sin. In the narrow view, only "voluntary transgression of a known law of God" is sin; in the wider view any "failure to fulfill the law of love" is sin, even if it does not result from a failure of the will. This distinction is crucial for Wesley's doctrine, because only if sin is taken in the narrower sense can it be maintained that the sanctified are without sin.

Now of course it can be questioned, as it has been by Flew and others, whether a "perfection" which consists only in the absence of deliberate and conscious disobedience deserves the importance which Wesley attributes to it. And these doubts are intensified when the reality of systemic evil is taken into account. As Truesdale asks, "Just what is the meaning of perfect love when our participation in exploitative social groups is faced?" Can I be in a meaningful sense "without sin" if it is true that the American economic system, in which I participate and on which I depend for my livelihood, depends on exploitation of the poor in Third World countries? And what shall I do about this? Shall I throw myself into activism, devoting my energies to rooting out this and other systemic evils? Perhaps I should, but there are many dangers-as Niebuhr, for example, well knew. My efforts may turn out to be ineffective; my reforms, if they are enacted, may bring other evils in their train. And my reformism may become a subtle but nonetheless deadly form of works-righteousness. Or should I reassure myself with the thought that the exploitation involved is not my personal doing, that no doubt if I have the opportunity I shall do something to correct it but that in the meantime I need not be deeply concerned? That is certainly our predominant inclination, but it is also a retreat into the "religious and moral atomism" which Truesdale so roundly castigates. In fact, it would seem that any attempt to deal practically with systemic evil must begin by arousing a sense of guilt and responsibility on the part of those who benefit from it. Does systemic evil confront us with a situation in which guilt is inevitable? I take it that such a conclusion is not very welcome in Wesleyan theology. And perhaps the conclusion is not inescapable. Just as, according to John, "perfect love casts out fear," it might be true that perfect love casts out complicity in systemic evil. But if this is true, there is an urgent need for someone to explain to us how it is true.

But perhaps it is irresponsible of me to take refuge behind a string of unanswered questions. (Is calculated ambiguity in academic discourse an example of systemic evil?) So I will, in closing, state briefly some personal convictions about the matter we are discussing. First, I think that the reality of systemic evil in our society and in all societies is something that cannot be seriously questioned. Specific examples can be debated, of course, but it is beyond all doubt that the "mystery of evil" involves much more than individual, conscious transgressions. Secondly, I suggest that we need to be extremely cautious in assigning blame and guilt for specific instances of systemic evil which we think we have uncovered. Sometimes claims about systemic evil-economic injustice, for instance-presuppose views about "rights" and "justice" which have little basis outside the utopian imagination. But supposing that the injustice is real, the assessment of blame and guilt for it is often extremely difficult. We need to avoid letting our judgments about this be colored by the particular political and/or programmatic ends which we may have in view. The Marxists are experts at manipulating guilt and blame for their political ends, but for Christians our guilt and responsibility before God are too serious a matter to allow us to play this game.

Finally, I must say that it seems to me that the reality of systemic evil makes any thought of individual spiritual perfection extremely problematic. Let me briefly suggest a reason for this conclusion. According to Wesley, even the entirely sanctified may "walk less accurately than they might have done," but this is due to a "failure of knowledge . . . rather than to a failure of love." But the doctrine of systemic evil places this "failure of knowledge" in a new and sinister light. For our "failure of knowledge" concerning the systemic evils in which we are implicated is by no means simple ignorance: rather, it is "false consciousness," a deeply motivated failure to recognize evils whose recognition would cost us something, psychically and perhaps in other ways as well. To be sure, false consciousness can sometimes be overcome; I take it that this is what "consciousness-raising" is all about. But this would seem, at best, to be a gradual process rather than something accomplished all at once in a crisis experience of sanctification.

In conclusion I want to express my hearty agreement with Professor Truesdale's call to theologians to rethink the doctrines of sin and salvation in view of the implications of systemic evil.