Once upon a time, a Canadian psychology professor publicly denounced a bill that he thought to be an intrusion on free speech, and the ensuing controversy caused a media firestorm. Since then, the spotlight has never left him. That professor, Jordan Peterson, is a sort of modern sage, a mouthpiece of ancient wisdom commenting on the plight of modernity. The popularity of Peterson’s latest book (it sold over three million copies) shows that Peterson’s blend of philosophy, religion, and science is striking a nerve.
I find the buzz that surrounds Jordan Peterson particularly exciting. His popularity reveals that our culture is grappling with big questions and is unsatisfied with quick answers and shallow ideologies. I am not going to attempt to summarize Peterson’s metaphysical worldview. Instead, my goal is to invite fellow Catholics to seriously explore his work and engage with his thinking, because if the Peterson phenomena shows anything, it’s that the world, if approached correctly, is ripe for conversion. Because of this, I believe Catholics can look to Peterson for insights on how to evangelize the present culture.
So what can Catholics learn from Peterson?
First, Peterson shows that Catholics must contend with the greatest minds and influencers of our time. Peterson does this through his engagement with Freud, Jung, Nietzsche, and Frankl—thinkers that modern, secular culture takes very seriously, but Catholics often write off. Catholics need to engage these thinkers; after all, evangelization relies on the ability to externally dialogue with the ideas of thinkers outside the Church. Today, the Church needs figures like Newman, who wrestled with the Enlightenment philosophers Hume and Locke; Thomas who baptized Aristotle's naturalism; Augustine, who engaged with the Neo-Platonists; and Paul who preached at the Areopagus. The Church must show outsiders that it not only understands popular modern thought, but that it also stands as a prophetic voice calling for something greater than modern thought. By engaging with Peterson, as well as the secular thinkers he draws from, Catholic intellectuals can open doors to evangelization.
The next lesson Catholics can learn from Peterson is authenticity. This comes in two forms.
First Catholics have to stop dumbing down doctrine simply because they think that watered-down Catholicism will be more popular. Peterson doesn't avoid hard ideas; instead, his lectures tie together an array of disciplines and are often over two hours long. The Church must do the same; it must stop thinking that people are stupid, that they can only handle a ten-minute sermon. In an educated and interconnected world, the Church doesn't stand a chance if it doesn't begin to ask more of its people intellectually. Most Catholics have a minimal grasp of the faith, the Bible, and Church history, leaving even the most devout unable to evangelize an educated modern audience. As evidenced by the Peterson phenomena, as well as the astounding number of young Catholics that stop practicing by the time they get to university, if the Church isn't an authoritative source of articulated truth, people will go elsewhere. Rather than settling for an elementary understanding, the Church must press her faithful towards intellectual contemplation.
Peterson can also help the Church be more authentic by enabling us to admit, like him, that we are seekers. Peterson readily admits the limits of his knowledge and, importantly, leads him to ask questions, wonder, and contemplate. As evangelists, we should never put on the façade that we have all the answers and dismiss new findings— for example, not pursuing a new philosophical understanding on the basis that Thomas Aquinas already answered everything in his Summa. The inquisitive Angelic Doctor would be ashamed of such close-minded thinking, and there are few things more unattractive to would-be converts.
Catholics must be informed, know the Truth, and be able to articulate it. However, the faith teaches that the Truth is a person, not a set of written ideas or ideological positions. Given that we can't even fully understand ourselves, how much more impossible is it to wrap our minds around the person of Truth? From this, in the back of every Catholic’s mind must be the words of Augustine: Si comprehendis, non est Deus—if you understand, it is not God.
Embracing mystery is key to evangelization. For seekers, there's something utterly attractive in this; evangelists must be co-seekers as part of their ongoing conversion, we cannot convert a culture that we refuse to learn about or learn from.
Lastly, Peterson boldly calls people to conversion. His message reminds people of their potential and how far they are from living up to it; calling out the mediocrity, nihilism, relativism, and expediency of modern western culture, he readily reminds those he lectures that their lives are full of suffering and their hearts are full of malevolence. Catholics are aligned with Peterson on this. We agree that there is a problem—what Pope Francis calls the 'culture of death.' Peterson boldly calls for change. In comparison, I think the Catholic Church is not demanding enough of its people. This is a massive impediment to evangelization.
Consider the "product" the Church offers: the forgiveness of sins and eternal life. If the Church fails to call out the sinfulness of the world, the world has no reason to turn to the Church for a solution. The Church must remind the world that its problems are not political, racial, or environmental—those are the wrong levels of analysis. Instead, it is the evil (sin) that lives within the heart of the individual. Peterson understands this and calls it like it is. Without proclaiming that the world has a problem, evangelization and conversion become, at best, an offer to join a weird club and, at worst, a means of oppressive influence (as post-moderns never fail to remind Catholics).
For many today, Peterson is the lone voice crying out in the wilderness, reminding his listeners that the lives they are living are not okay. People want to hear that they are not as good as they could be. Whether Peterson knows it or not, that's the Church's line—the call to Sainthood.
Catholics can (and should) learn a great deal from Peterson. That said, Peterson is not a Catholic. While we can seek what is valid and enriching in what he teaches, we must resist the temptation to totalize his philosophy as a sort of elixir of life that can explain everything. Much like the Catholic Platonist must resist the temptation to dismiss the body and the Catholic scientist, a kind of reductive scientism that negates spiritual reality, within Peterson, there is a tendency to reduce religion into a discipline for psychological well-being. This is the influence of the psychoanalytic-existential tradition that sees faith as a sort of logotherapy aimed at relieving suffering and making life meaningful. Interestingly, this tradition—religion as logotherapy—has long gripped western Catholicism, and in some way, through reading Peterson, Catholics can be made aware of this and work to avoid such temptation.
Catholics must walk a narrow path, wrestling with both God and man. As one can see, engaging the world is a real threat to one's faith, but so is refusing to participate. To use Our Lord's candle analogy, we must not be so bold in adapting to the times as to expose our flame to winds that might blow it out. So too, however, we must not be so reserved, so focused on merely preserving, as to risk smothering our flame. A flame needs both air and wax—the flowing breeze of the modern-day, finding warmth and light in exposure to Eternal Truth.