By Rachael Tearney.
Court cases, trials, and sentencing are garnering a lot of attention in Starmer’s Britain.
Whether it’s about the crime, the punishment, the speed or lack of process, or the perceived unfairness of sentences, we watch in disbelief.
Just when we think things couldn’t get more surreal, the Liberal Democrat Party is perhaps providing us with one of the most grotesque legal cases in recent memory. We all enjoy a good courtroom drama, but this is theatre of the absurd—more specifically, theatre of cruelty, where “a magic exorcism occurs; a language superior to words, used to subvert thought and logic.” It’s as if the Liberal Democrat Party’s lawyers are attempting to drag the British public through a 21st-century version of Mao’s Struggle Sessions—though, in truth, this absurdity amounts to nothing more than a trivial pursuit.
A brief background: Liberal Democrat candidate David Campanale is suing the Party, claiming he was deselected due to his religious, specifically Christian, beliefs. The case has taken a bizarre turn, with reports suggesting that the former Archbishop of Canterbury may be called upon to give evidence, as Campanale is being asked to prove the divinity of Christ and the “truth” of his beliefs (See The Independent, David Maddox, 16/9/24).
English law requires terms to be clearly defined, yet Campanale finds himself in the seemingly impossible position of having to define abstract religious concepts in order to mount a defence. The situation invites a discussion about belief—so let’s start there.
Some people hold a “belief” in Darwin’s Theory of Evolution—the idea that humans evolved from apes—a theory that, as yet, has not been disproved. If the mere fact that something hasn’t been disproved is enough to establish plausibility, as with the Theory of Evolution, then surely the same can be said for Christ. His existence, after all, has yet to be disproved. In fact, one could argue there is more historical evidence supporting Christianity—such as the Gospels, the Old Testament prophecies, and the multitude of churches dedicated to Christ—than there is for the theory of evolution.
Moreover, theories like Evolution and Critical Race Theory are accepted and taught by established academia without requiring absolute proof of their “truth.” So why, then, is Christianity being scrutinized in such a way that it seems to require more validation than these other accepted theories?
Now, let’s consider the concept of belief itself.
Belief is defined as: a) “an acceptance that something exists or is true, especially without proof,” and b) “trust, faith, or confidence in something.” If Christianity, as a belief system, is being singled out for greater scrutiny, does this imply that politicians should have no religious beliefs at all? Must they be: A) atheists, denying the existence of any god, or B) agnostics, refraining from any belief in a god’s existence? If we reject belief in God, does that lead us to Nihilism, defined as: A) “the rejection of all religious and moral principles in the belief that life is meaningless,” or B) “the belief that nothing in the world has real existence”?
Here’s the catch: even in Nihilism, we are still talking about belief. So, it’s impossible to live without belief, because even belief in nothing is still a belief.
This raises the question: how do we construct a suitable defence when we are dealing with abstract and paradoxical concepts like belief in nothing? The only comparable case that comes to mind is one found in fiction. But wait—this is real life, not fiction! Then again, real life includes belief in Santa Claus, doesn’t it? Every Christmas, children around the world await a figure they believe in, with the presents he leaves behind serving as evidence of his existence.
In the 1947 movie Miracle on 34th Street, Kris Kringle is asked to prove that he is Santa Claus. His lawyers produce witnesses who believe in him, but that isn’t enough to secure his defence. He is then asked to prove he is the one and only Santa Claus. So, are we now asking whether Christianity is the one and only belief that requires proof? If so, we could use the same argument Kris Kringle’s lawyers did.
In the film, the fact that a legal institution—the post office—handled letters addressed to Santa Claus was accepted as proof of his existence. In the same vein, Campanale’s lawyers could point to the legal recognition of churches and parish bank accounts as proof of the reality of Christian belief. Or, consider this: divorce has its origins in ecclesiastical law. The fact that marriage exists, and a legal process is required to dissolve it, underscores the truth of Christian beliefs. Without Christian foundations, divorce laws wouldn’t exist—even with the separation of Church and State.
To deny the validity of Campanale’s beliefs, then, we would have to deny the legal systems of banking and the laws derived from Christian or ecclesiastical traditions, bringing us full circle to Nihilism—which we’ve already established is, itself, a belief.
Ultimately, this leads us to the troubling conclusion that the only belief being asked to prove its truth is Christianity, which in turn could be seen as legal persecution of Christian beliefs above all others.
Before the Liberal Democrats’ lawyers tie themselves in existential knots, they might want to pray—or wish—for a “Miracle on Vincent Square,” and spare the British legal system from descending into its own Divine Comedy.
Follow Rachel at @WritesRachael
