I BELIEVE
BECAUSE IT IS ABSURD
Credo quia absurdum is a Latin phrase that means "I believe because it is absurd", originally misattributed to Tertullian in his De Carne Christi. It is believed to be a paraphrasing of Tertullian's "prorsus credibile est, quia ineptum est" which means "It is completely credible because it is unsuitable", or "certum est, quia impossibile" which means "It is certain because it is impossible". These are consistent with the anti-Marcionite context in which they occur. Early modern, Protestant and Enlightenment rhetoric against Catholicism and religion more broadly resulted in this phrase being changed to "I believe because it is absurd", displaced from its original anti-Marcionite to a personally religious context.[1]
Tertullian (c. 155 AD – c. 220 AD) was the first Latin father of the Church, started his career as a lawyer and ended it as a heretic. After his conversion from heathenism in 196 he remained for only five or ten years a member of the Orthodox Church; both then and after his lapse into the Montanist heresy, he produced a series of theological works remarkable for vigorous reasoning, an unabashed use of legalistic rhetoric against his opponents, and an intransigent acceptance of paradoxical conclusions. The paradox I want to discuss comes from a work entitled de carne Christi which he wrote in the year 208, ‘libris’, as the Patrologia (Vit. Tert.) elegantly puts it, ‘iam Montanismam redolentibus’—‘at a time when his writings were already stinking of Montanism’—but the work is not itself, I believe, heretical.
He is attacking Marcion, who believed that Christ was not actually born of the flesh, but was a ‘phantasma’ of human form. Marcion’s refusal to believe in a genuine incarnation, Tertullian argues, could come only from a belief either that it would be impossible, or that it would be unworthy,
a shameful degradation of the divine nature. Against the view that it would be impossible he produces the sweeping and general principle ‘nihil impossibile Deo nisi quod non vult’—‘nothing is impossible for God except what he does not wish to do’. In particular, Marcion had argued that the idea of the incarnation of God involved a contradiction, because being born as a human being would involve a change in the divine nature;[2] but a change involves ceasing to have some attributes and acquiring others; but the attributes of God are eternal; therefore he cannot change; therefore he could not have been born as a human being.
Against this Tertullian says that this is to argue falsely from the nature of temporal objects to the nature of the eternal and infinite. It is certainly true of temporal objects that if they change they lose some attributes and acquire others; but to suppose that the same is true of God is just to neglect the necessary differences between God and temporal objects (de c. C. iii). (I shall in section (6) of this paper say something about this, perhaps not immediately convincing, argument.) Finally, against the view
that, even if it were possible, God could not wish to be incarnated, because it would be unworthy of him, Tertullian, summing up his objections to Marcion in a passage of great intensity, accuses him of overthrowing the entire basis of the Christian faith: his argument would destroy the crucifixion and the resurrection as well. ‘Take these away, too, Marcion,’ he says (ibid., v), ‘or rather these: for which is more unworthy of God, more shameful, to be born or to die?
. . . Answer me this, you butcher of the truth. Was not God really crucified? And as he was really crucified, did he not really die? And as he really died, did he not really rise from the dead? . . . Is our whole faith false? . . . Spare what is the one hope of the whole world. Why do you destroy an indignity that is necessary to our faith? What is unworthy of God will do for me . . . the Son of God was born; because it is shameful, I am not ashamed: and the Son of God died; just because it is absurd, it is to be believed; and he was buried and rose again; it is certain, because it is impossible.’
‘Non pudet, quiapudendum est . . . prorsus credibile est, quia ineptum est . . . certum est, quia impossibile’:
That is Tertullian’s paradox.
1.
Crucifixus est Dei Filius, non pudet, quia pudendum est;
2.
et mortuus est Dei Filius, prorsus credibile est, quia ineptum
est;
3.
et sepultus resurrexit, certum est, quia impossibile.
— (De Carne Christi V, 4)
1.
"The Son of God was crucified: there is no shame, because it is shameful.
2.
And the Son of God died: it is by all means to be believed, because it is absurd.
3. And, buried, He rose again: it is certain, because impossible."
‘I BELIEVE BECAUSE IT IS ABSURD’: THE ENLIGHTENMENT INVENTION OF TERTULLIAN’S CREDO
Peter Harrison
Institute for Advanced Studies in the Humanities, University of Queensland
Church History 86 (2017), 339-64.
Abstract: Tertullian is widely regarded as having originated the expression “Credo quia adsurdum (est).” (I believe because it is absurd.) and the phrase often appears in contemporary polemics about the rationality of religious belief. Patristic scholars have long pointed out that Tertullian never said this nor meant anything like it. However, little scholarly attention has been paid to the circumstances in which this specific phrase came into existence and why, in spite of its dubious provenance, it continues to be regarded by many as a legitimate characterization of religious faith. This paper shows how Tertullian's original expression - It is certain because impossible. - was first misinterpreted and modified in the early modern period. In 17th century England a credo version - I believe because it is impossible. - became the common form of Tertullian's maxim. A further modification, building on the 1st, was effected in the Enlightenment philosophy of Voltaire, who added the “absurdity condition” and gave us the modern version of the paradox: I believe because it is absurd. These modifications played a significant role in enlightenment representations of religion as irrational, and signaled the beginning of a new understanding of faith as an epistemic vice. This doubtful maxim continues to play a role in debates about the cognitive status of religious faith, and as its failure to succumb to the historical evidence against it is owing to its ongoing rhetorical usefulness in such debates.