Are there emotions that only Christians can feel?
When I first heard this, I found it mildly preposterous. It offended my egalitarian senses. Why should Christians experience some things and not others?
And yet, can a republican or a democrat know what it means to swear fealty to a king? Can an American know what it means to worship the lion of Judah or the King of Israel?
Can an atheist know what it feels like to leave his sins at the feet of a Savior?
Be wary, here. My take isn’t quite so simplistic, and I won’t give you my take until the end. The far more important thing here is that the study of the so-called Christian emotions is fascinating and enlightening to me, and I believe that it is well worth your time. I have been asked often enough about the topic that I wanted to write down a few sources, citations, and thoughts on the matter. I’m not sure that my thoughts are all that useful—but I think your study of the topic almost certainly will be.
The questions and thinkers and insights are beautiful.
Let me state at the outset that I am no scholar of religious experience. I wish I was. I have kids to raise and a dissertation to defend, and I don’t have time to engage in the discussion like I wish I could. Even if I had time, I’m not sure I’m up to the task in pure IQ terms. And, yet, I suspect that James and Kant and Edwards wrote for people like me in the first place. Here’s to hoping I don’t embarrass them. Additionally, this is such an interesting topic that I run the serious risk of finding myself writing a dozen pages without an end in sight—and so, I’m going to summarize the summaries for the sake of brevity. Here’s to hoping that I don’t put you to sleep.
After I list some summary, I’ll give you a quick explanation of my view on things. You really should read some primary sources on this (as should I!) but I can at least try to give a little context here.
Annotated Bibliography: The Christian Emotions
I first started researching on one of my favorite websites: Stanford University’s Encyclopedia of Philosophy. It’s worth reading the whole thing—even if briefly—because it will give you a sense for what the great thinkers have been asking. I find sections 7, 6, and 5 to be most interesting, but the whole brief article is worth considering.
Next, I investigated the topic more broadly—and happily found one of my favorite thinkers of all. Chief among the philosophers fascinated by religious experience was William James, the great American psychologist who wrote “The Varieties of Religious Experience.” James’ scholarly work bore the pragmatic school of thought—the notion that religion’s practical benefits are among the best evidences that there is something true in it. He also focused a great deal on the experiences of the worshipper with religion itself, constructing four basic principles of spiritual experiences: neosis (new, divine knowledge) ineffability (indescribable) transience (temporariness) and passivity (the one who experiences it does not control it).
Immanuel Kant and Søren Kierkegaard approached the investigation of religious experience from distinct yet complementary perspectives. Kant, in his works like "Religion within the Bounds of Bare Reason," viewed religious experience through the lens of moral philosophy, arguing that faith is integral to moral development and the realization of ethical principles. He saw Christianity as providing a framework that aligns human actions with the moral law, emphasizing the rational necessity of faith in achieving moral virtue. On the other hand, Kierkegaard, particularly in "Fear and Trembling" and "The Sickness unto Death," delved into the subjective and existential dimensions of religious experience. He emphasized the individual's personal relationship with God, marked by profound emotions such as anxiety, despair, and the leap of faith.
Did these thinkers believe in emotions that are unique to Christianity?
Kierkegaard highlighted the intense, often paradoxical emotions that arise from confronting one's own sinfulness and the need for a passionate, personal commitment to faith, which he saw as essential for true Christianity.
In other words, I believe they did.
The best sources are primary sources of course—and I’ll give a few with a little assist from ChatGPT—with a dash of synopsis on the side. Don’t read this word for word: it’s a buffet. Take a few things you like, and feel free to move along. I’ve included a few other citations at the very end of this little essay that you are welcome to click through as well.
1. William James
Synopsis: William James, an American philosopher and psychologist, explored religious experiences in his seminal work "The Varieties of Religious Experience" (1902). He argued that religious experiences are deeply personal and subjective, often characterized by feelings of ineffable joy, peace, and connection to a higher power. James identified key emotions such as awe, reverence, and a sense of the divine presence as central to religious experiences.
Original Sources:
"The Varieties of Religious Experience" (1902)
2. Søren Kierkegaard
Synopsis: Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard is known for his exploration of Christian existentialism. In "Fear and Trembling" (1843) and "The Concept of Anxiety" (1844), Kierkegaard examines the emotions associated with faith, such as anxiety, despair, and the leap of faith. He posits that true faith involves a passionate, personal relationship with God, often accompanied by intense emotional struggles.
Original Sources:
"Fear and Trembling" (1843)
"The Concept of Anxiety" (1844)
3. Immanuel Kant
Synopsis: Immanuel Kant, a German philosopher, discussed religious emotions in the context of moral philosophy. In "Religion within the Bounds of Bare Reason" (1793), Kant argued that religious emotions should align with moral duty and rationality. He viewed feelings like respect, reverence, and moral enthusiasm as essential to genuine religious practice, but always subordinate to rational moral principles.
Original Sources:
"Religion within the Bounds of Bare Reason" (1793)
4. Jonathan Edwards
Synopsis: American theologian Jonathan Edwards emphasized the role of emotions in religious experiences. In "Religious Affections" (1746), Edwards distinguished between true and false religious emotions, arguing that genuine religious affections are rooted in the divine and lead to virtuous living. He highlighted emotions like love, joy, and gratitude towards God as indicators of authentic religious experiences.
Original Sources:
"Religious Affections" (1746)
5. Rudolf Otto
Synopsis: German theologian and philosopher Rudolf Otto explored the concept of the "numinous" in "The Idea of the Holy" (1917). Otto described religious experiences as encounters with the numinous, characterized by a feeling of awe and reverence towards the divine. He identified key emotions such as fear, fascination, and a sense of the mysterious and transcendent as central to religious experiences.
Original Sources:
"The Idea of the Holy" (1917)
6. Friedrich Schleiermacher
Synopsis: Friedrich Schleiermacher, a German theologian, focused on the feeling of absolute dependence on God in religious experiences. In "On Religion: Speeches to Its Cultured Despisers" (1799), he argued that the essence of religion lies in the immediate feeling of dependence on the infinite, which gives rise to emotions like awe, humility, and gratitude.
Original Sources:
"On Religion: Speeches to Its Cultured Despisers" (1799)
7. C.S. Lewis
Synopsis: British writer and theologian C.S. Lewis explored religious emotions through both his fiction and non-fiction works. In "The Screwtape Letters" (1942) and "Mere Christianity" (1952), Lewis discussed emotions such as joy, longing, and awe in the context of Christian faith, emphasizing the transformative power of these emotions in fostering a deeper relationship with God.
Original Sources:
"The Screwtape Letters" (1942)
"Mere Christianity" (1952)
Summary
These thinkers provide a rich tapestry of perspectives on religious emotions, each contributing uniquely to the understanding of how emotions shape and are shaped by religious experiences. Their works offer profound insights into the emotional dimensions of faith and spirituality.
Emotion is Core to Conversion
I’ll begin with my own views, now.
Let me make three points:
Emotion is integral to religious conversion.
Emotion is not the same as religious conversion.
There are some emotions reserved for Christians.
I’ll begin with the first.
I view it as my job to create in my students conviction in a religious sense. Note: I speak not merely of testimony, but rather conviction. I want my students to leave my class knowing things and also being willing to stand up for the things they know.
That difference is worth emphasizing.
When I think of conversion, it is whole-souled conversion. Yes, it is a matter of head—of truth, certainty, and knowledge. But it is just as much a matter of heart—of dedication, passion, loyalty, and consecration. I emphasize that both are essential—just as husband and wife, or mercy and justice, or any of the myriad dyadic creations under God’s heavens only find truest fulfillment in complementarity, so, too, is conversion a matter of both head and heart.
And when we speak of conversion, I fear that we speak, in our faith, of only one: of knowledge.
In the words of CS Lewis:
In battle it is not syllogisms (logical arguments) that will keep the reluctant nerves and muscles to their post in the third hour of the bombardment. The crudest sentimentalism … about a flag or a country or a regiment will be of more use.
CS Lewis
The Abolition of Man: Men Without Chests
In out faith, we rightly prize truth. I am on board, I assure you. I was once a primary music leader. I taught my 5-year-olds “Oh Say What is Truth” and it is still one of my proudest accomplishments!
One of my favorite talks is by Hugh Nibley: Zeal Without Knowledge. It changed my life. The whole point is that our zeal—as Paul says—can outstrip our knowledge. Professor Nibley rightly points us in a holier direction: we should aim for the highest knowledge as well as the most fervent passion.
But I fear that we have overlearned our lesson; rather than uniting head and heart, we have changed our emphasis from heart to head—and are only now coming face-to-face with the results of such a strategy.
I’ll keep this brief. This prizing of truth above conviction carries at least two major problems:
If we wait to feel conviction until we have attained to certain knowledge, we have proscribed faith of any kind. Of all the Christian emotions, one of the most important to conversion is faith. Faith is, in some sense, a set of convictions that we cannot fully defend or rationalize by scientific evidence alone. The rationalist will scoff at such things, but it is the most normal part of my life. As just one example: I adore my wife—and if I’d waited to love her until I knew it would all work out, I would have been waiting a very long time indeed. I have known youth who are so concerned with establishing whether they “should marry” their romantic interest that they are too busy to fall in love. I know students who pray and pray for a revelation that they “should” marry their sweetheart. I love that they counsel with the Lord, but I find myself telling many of them “you don’t want God’s approval, you want an insurance policy!” Again, my metaphor is the great gamble that is marriage—a wager of the highest order. It is in the act of putting all my chips on the love of my life that I learn one aspect of love. We do the same, but in religious matters: having pruned every flower of the tree we are surprised to find it dying. If we believe that testimony—that is, knowledge of truth—is the same as conversion, then we will wait to nourish our convictions until our knowledge is perfect. Rather than bridle our passions, we forbid them—and then coldly remove the seed that Alma pled with us to “give space” that it might grow.
When we prize certainty over conviction we invent certitude even where there is none. My friend Ben Spackman recently found a private citation of Elder Eyring that explains it bluntly: “The most important thing about revelation is knowing that you don’t have any.” Elder Paul V. Johnson, former commissioner of church education, put it this way: “Many of us have a difficult time dealing with ambiguity, especially in issues concerning the Church. In fact, we may be drawn to use quotes in our teaching that are definitive because they seem to dispel the ambiguity. But some quotes are definitive on issues where there is no official answer. People who are more tentative on a subject that hasn’t been revealed or resolved don’t get quoted as much, but may be more in line with where our current knowledge is.”
We should be wary of zeal without knowledge. You know, as do I, of some young person who is absolutely dedicated to ideology despite not having done much meaningful investigating of that ideology. You can find plenty of young people on TikTok pledging themselves to causes they know little about. Similarly, you know (as do I) of someone who loves The Book of Mormon and knows it is true with “every fiber of (his) being!” but hasn’t quite had time to finish reading it.
But we should—pace, Brother Nibley—be equally leery of knowledge without zeal. It seems to me that we are in an age of abundance—and knowledge is so common so as to have lost its holy shine. There are some who have PhDs in advanced topics and cannot help but admit that their religion has changed their lives and benefitted them, but cannot in good conscience bear testimony because it simply wouldn’t be on-trend. We rightly see the dangers of zealotry and avoid any emotion of any kind, preferring the “enlightened” path of vulcan-like dispassion.
I reject this.
Zeal can outstrip knowledge—but testimonies (and love!) wither without the natural nourishment of emotion.
Zeal and knowledge are meant to grow up together: to receive light, and to be willing to live up to that light. I idolize neither the zealot nor the intellectual, but the humble man who knows he might be wrong but lives up to the light he has anyway; the man who is falling in love at the same time his knowledge grows that he has found his eternal companion.
I believe that building conviction is integral to building conversion—and emotion is key to conviction.
Emotion Alone is Not Conversion
Jonathan Edwards was a scholar-preacher of puritan, pre-constitution America. He is the author of the noted piece “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God.” I should note: Edwards’ piece is a controversial classic—the quintessential puritanical sermon that is condemned by some and revered by others. I view it as a great example of using emotion to inspire conversion—a sermon that was exceptionally effective at building inside of people a desire to change.
But his sermon isn’t the primary point here. Rather, I’m fascinated that he made a list, once, of the emotional markers of Christian conversion.
Actually, he made two lists. There are some signs that may be part of conversion but do not truly provide evidence of a converted heart: consider intense emotion and bodily perturbation. Yes, these could well be markers of the converted soul but they can just as easily be markers of performative zealotry.
Emotion alone is not the same as conversion.
Emotions of the Convert
Jonathan Edwards argued that some emotions are not proof of conversion—but said others are. Some emotions can only be found in the heart of the truly converted.
When we hear “only Christians get to experience some emotions” our first instinct is to interpret this tribally. That’s not how I view it. This isn’t about how Christians are in some way superior to Muslims, Jews, or Humanists.
These thinkers—and me—are not differentiating between the Christian and the Jew or the humanist or the Muslim. That was never their goal and it isn’t mine either.
Rather, the goal is to differentiate between the converted and the not.
In other words, there are emotions unique to the the saved.
Conclusion
In my role as a teacher, I believe that it is good and right to build both knowledge and conviction.
On the latter score, I have tried lecturing. I have crafted emotional experiences. I have built beautiful presentations. I have done everything I can think of to build conviction in students, and the most effective thing I have found was simply to ask them to defend something they believe in.
This in no way improves their knowledge, but it deepens their conviction.
A student of mine wrote an essay on awe. She said that Latter-day Saints experience it as a part of our ritual—and that it is important to our faith and our religious experience.
I was thrilled—and surprised. She told me it was related to a story I’d mentioned in class.
Imagine being the high priest on the day of atonement in the time of the ancient temple. If I understand history right, he was the only one allowed to enter the holy of holies. He went in only once per year. He took the sins of the people with him, and desposited them at the mercy seat. When he entered that place, he would see in front of him enormous cherubim carved of wood: 15 feet tall with 15 feet wing spans, twin figures towering over him.
I can’t explain awe but I tell this story and people simply understand.
Jonathan Haidt is a rockstar in contemporary pop psychology. He speaks in his writings of awe—and how the religious experience is perhaps best understood by the emotional byproducts of that experience, including, notably, awe. I agree with Haidt. I’ll go further. I don’t know why it should be so, but I believe that experiencing the religious emotions is key to religion itself, and indeed, makes us changed, better people.
To put it otherwise, atheists should seek awe.
So should we. I fear that I know too many Latter-day Saints whose religious experience is primarily perfunctory—a series of conventions and social customs that are occasionally punctuated by pleasant experiences at weddings and baby blessings. I don’t believe that depth of emotional experience with religion is the same as conviction, but it is at least a key ingredient—and if we’re to experience the joys of religion it will require us to experience the emotions of religious conversion.
Jonathan Edwards made two lists. One, a list of emotions that are insufficient to indicate a true believer, and another that is reserved for the converted.
Do you know what was the top of his second list?
The attributes of Christ.
How does one know if a man is converted to Christ? If he has become like the man of Nazareth in vitue, patience, wisdom, and charity. The emotions that are reserved for the converted Christian are simply those reserved for the Christlike.
Sources and citations:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Varieties_of_Religious_Experience
https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/emotion-Christian-tradition/
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Religious_Affections
https://www.cslewisinstitute.org/resources/reflections-august-2012/