The rescue operation for the trapped Chilean miners reminds me vividly of the core business of the Christian faith. Christianity, too, is a rescue operation. We are about salvation — being saved.
Those who want to tone down the faith or make it acceptable to a more sceptical mindset often try to represent Christianity as a religion of ethics, as something to do with being good. But, really, it is no such thing.
The idea that Christianity is fundamentally about ethical behaviour was the great heresy of the fifth-century British monk Pelagius. His theological message was simple: God wants human beings to be perfect, and they can be perfect by following God’s commandments.
This philosophy had real power for many of those dissatisfied with the corruption of late-Roman society. Inspired by his teaching, a number of wealthy Christians gave up their lands and possessions in order to live out this “perfect” Christian life.
So why is this religious radicalism considered to be one of the great heresies? In short, because it fails to understand Christianity as rescue. Augustine, who came to define Catholic orthodoxy, says that the problem with Pelagius is that he completely misunderstands the complexity of human nature and motivation. Pelagius believed that doing good was simply a matter of choice, a question of will-power.
In contrast, Augustine thinks of human beings as profoundly addicted to their own sickness — so much so that we are just not capable of achieving the sort of compliance with God’s commandments which Pelagius insists on. We are thwarted by some deep inner weakness that leaves us trapped. That is why we need to be rescued.
Augustine’s sense that some original sin is what keeps us trapped is often disparaged. And I also want to resist his unhelpful association of this sin with sex. None the less, the idea that human beings are a bit like alcoholics on a 12-step programme — where we must first accept that we are incapable of helping ourselves, and that we need assistance from elsewhere in order to set things right — seems exactly right.
Ultimately, the breezy moral optimism of Pelagius leaves us feeling like failures, trapped thousands of feet underground, trying to escape by digging with our bare hands. Augustine tells us that this cannot work. We need help.
In winning the argument against Pelagius, Augustine made this asking for help the guiding prayer-thought of the Middle Ages: “Have mercy upon me, O Lord, have mercy upon me.” I wonder how often the Chilean miners have prayed a prayer like that?
The Revd Dr Giles Fraser is Canon Chancellor of St Paul’s Cathedral and Director of the St Paul’s Institute.