Stepping into the vestibule of the Ragamont Inn I noticed two things immediately: a pall of smoke and a loud argument.
The smoke came from countless cigarettes, pipes, and cigars, the argument from the kitchen, where Vincent P. Lewis was disagreeing with anyone passing through, but especially with a half dozen Catholic writers and academicians who were telling him he didn’t know what he was doing and would bring calamity on himself and the Church. Warren Carroll was among the arguers. Author of books such as The Founding of Christendom, Our Lady of Guadalupe, and 1917: Red Banners, White Mantle, Carroll is an intense, rapid-fire speaker with a reputation of never losing his cool.
In talking with Vin Lewis he lost his cool. They didn’t come to blows, but Carroll nearly threw the much-larger Lewis out the door.
You have to understand the venue to understand the personalities. This was the Rendezvous, a yearly gathering of Catholic intellectuals and activists (and intellectual activists too) who have been meeting in Salisbury, Connecticut for more than a dozen years.
They come together the first weekend in November, just after the Ragamont closes for the season, and take over the place. The long weekend includes spiritual exercises, formal lectures, an uproarious game of Catholic trivia (winners are awarded “graces,” those little bottles of liquor you find in hotel rooms), the swapping of stories, and plenty of animated talk, some of which degenerates into argumentation. I enjoy it all, except for the smoke, but I usually can find an open window to sit next to. For me the Rendezvous is a mini-vacation, a few days away from the Santa Ana winds, a few days to revel in a color Southern Californians seldom see: green.
But my story is not about the Rendezvous as such. My story is about Vin Lewis and his distinctive and, I think, dangerous ideas about how apologetics should be conducted. Although we had never met, he was not unknown to me, but I didn’t expect to find him at the Rendezvous, where he struck me as being out of place, at least temperamentally.
Tall, apparently in his mid-forties, like Carroll a fast talker (but much louder), Lewis later would write that “until 1985 I was employed by the New York State Police. At that time, that institution decided that twelve years of a loud-mouthed Catholic was [sic] enough, and I was dismissed on fabricated charges.” Since then he has lived abstemiously and, say acquaintances, with unclear means of support.
As I said, Vin Lewis was not unknown to me. In early 1988 he had written a barbed letter to me as editor of Catholic Answers Newsletter, the predecessor publication to This Rock. The long letter was published in full, along with my response.
My problem, said Lewis, is that I know little about successful apologetic techniques: “If Protestants actually ask you to debate anything, then you are not doing a very good job. I fight for Catholicism and truth also. Around here ministers flee from me as frogs from rabbits (see Aesop’s fable). All liars fear truth. They don’t fear me, but the fact that my religion (and the Holy Spirit) destroys everything they advance. I can’t even arrange a debate anymore.”
I replied, “I can’t help thinking that Protestants may decline to debate you for reasons other than the solidity of your arguments. They might be running away from you because of your attitude toward them. You seem to think [a Catholic] becomes a Protestant because he consciously embraces sin and for no other reason. Granted, sin at times plays a part, but I suspect it usually doesn’t play the leading role–or the solitary role–you assign it.”
But Lewis insisted that “every person who ‘leaves’ the Church was never ‘in’ it.”
“This is a dangerous argument,” I answered. “It’s dangerous because it implies we never can know whether a man is a Catholic until he’s safely dead. One consequence is that we never can know who’s a priest (a man first must qualify as a Catholic, of course) and who isn’t. But the Church has never accepted this line of thought, which is reminiscent of Donatism.”
I noted that “a man who falls away from the practice of his religion through laziness but doesn’t subscribe to another remains a Catholic. He’s a lapsed Catholic, but still a Catholic. It’s only when he rejects Catholicism for another faith (or for no faith at all) that he ceases to be a Catholic.”
Later, at the Rendezvous, I concluded none of my words had any positive effect on Lewis. I watched him, eyes and lips wide, press close to historian Don D’Elia, who teaches at SUNY New Paltz. Lewis insisted that all Protestants, at all times, are dishonest, if they have any wits about them at all. Only truly stupid Protestants can adhere to Protestantism in good faith.
As he later wrote, “There are honest Protestants, and there are knowledgeable Protestants. But there are never honest knowledgeable Protestants. Every Protestant who studies what his system supposedly teaches comes to the conclusion that it and he is [sic] in error. . . . Every single Protestant which [sic] I deal with without exception claims to be a committed believer with an above average relationship with God. And yet every one of them, without exception, advances lies as truth and attributes these lies to divine inspiration. Every one of these people has studied God’s words and then lies about it.”
When Lewis turned around for a moment, D’Elia slipped away and got another beer. He needed it. He looked at me and shook his head. No need to say anything. Eyeing Lewis, already in an argument with someone else, D’Elia slipped into the dining room and out of Lewis’s peripheral vision.
At the following year’s Rendezvous I saw Lewis again. Many folks expected him not to show up, thinking he wouldn’t be invited. But he did show, and the same arguments–really, the same single argument–recommenced. Carroll, D’Elia, Lewis, and I were invited to give short talks to the attendees. During his remarks Lewis got in an admittedly good dig at me: “I ‘m forced to conclude Karl’s Catholicism and Fundamentalism was inspired by the Holy Spirit. Since it’s a good book, the Holy Spirit must have inspired the writing–Karl doesn’t have it in him by nature to write that well.” Later, in my talk, I took my revenge by making Lewis the object of the punchline in a joke about punishments in the afterlife. (We respect one another’s sparing skills, but disagree about apologetical methods.)
In 1990 Lewis founded All Roads Ministry. Its motto is “veritas supra pacem,” truth over peace, which well summarizes the attitude of its newsletter, The ARMament. His coworkers through most of ARM’s existence were Michael J. Sittnick of Wallingford, Connecticut (he met Lewis at the Rendezvous and was not turned off), Paul E. Smith of Natchez, Miss-issippi, and Cindy Hof, Lewis’s long-time girlfriend. (“I keep telling him to marry her or set her free,” complained Bill Koneazny, organizer of the Rendezvous. “It isn’t right to string a woman along for so many years.”)
Nearly all of The ARMament is written by Lewis. His style is unmistakable. In an early issue he insisted “ARM differs from, we believe, all other Catholic apologetic/evangelistic groups . . . we know that we are the best. . . . Our goal is to make The ARMament the leading journal of Catholic apologetics in the world.”
In the July/August 1990 issue Lewis explained his entry into apologetics. “I had become active in the ‘pro-life’ movement, although I consider myself ‘anti-abortion’ and not ‘pro-life.’ This led to my being invited, by a new friend, to join a chapter of Catholics United for the Faith. I was told that I could not be president of the chapter because I was too ‘strict in truth and doctrine.’ But the president soon dropped out and I took over. Then the members dropped out.”
Later he would write that “I now hold that the letters CUF stand for ‘Catholics Unwilling to Fight (for the Faith).’ I invited an active Catholic to attend a meeting [of Lewis’s chapter]. She refused, saying, ‘All those things ever become is “my-priest-is-worse-than-your-priest” story telling sessions.’ She was only using it as an excuse; her problem was with me. But there is an element of truth there. The CUF chapter died when I insisted that it actually do something Catholic. And out of that deserting came ARM.”
In his newsletter Lewis mentions another outfit, the Mid-Hudson Catholic Forum, “a group of concerned and committed Catholics who meet once a month to talk. I believe that it was designed to be a ‘discussion and study’ group, but it really is usually only talk. The ‘membership’ is loosely composed of about five priests, several former scholars,” and other people. “I go there to denounce everyone. This is my calling and my best ability; I denounce quite well.”
Lewis is convinced the charitable approach is not only unnecessary, but counterproductive, since a Catholic could lose his soul by becoming a wimp. “If I converted hundreds by being gentle, but lost my own soul, then I have gained nothing. I lose my soul if I betray the faith. And that can be done by taking the soft approach. I have never seen any person or organization which tried that way which avoided this danger. Allow me to repeat that: Every soft, gentle, evangelistic organization has ultimately betrayed the faith.” (Take that, Frank Sheed, with your Catholic Evidence Guild!)
“I plead guilty to enjoying being the type of person who is always right. I enjoy deflating fools and defeating frauds. I like winning arguments, crushing enemies, and exposing liars.” (Sheed counseled against arguing to win. He said an apologist’s duty is to argue to explain. By trying to win the apologist will drive people further from the faith.)
Not surprisingly, Lewis is not pleased with the Catholic Answers approach to apologetics. In the September 1990 issue of The ARMament ran “Some Free Advice to Karl Keating.” Three months later was published “Another (sigh) Open Letter to Karl Keating.” The first article began this way:
“For those of you who don’t know him, Karl Keating is a Catholic apologist in California. He publishes a magazine, This Rock, which is an inflated and vapid version of The ARMament. His major emphasis is always to do everything with ‘charity.’ In a recent issue of This Rock an answer was given to an anti-Catholic ‘born-again Christian.’ The answer included the following exact quote: ‘This is not to deny at all the reality of the spiritual conversion you underwent under Protestant auspices, a conversion that made Christianity come alive for you.’
“Boy, is that charitable! It’s so charitable, it’s totally wrong. A Protestant is, by definition, a person who denies at least one of the necessary doctrines of Catholicism. This means they [sic] are at best heretics who, should they continue to knowingly hold to their errors and refuse to repent, will die in the state of mortal sin. Now, of course, ‘charity’ prevents Karl from telling anyone this. But clarityshould show Karl that his answer is anti-Catholic.” (I think this is the only time anyone has called me an anti-Catholic.)
No one can accuse Lewis of a lack of confidence in himself. He reported that one Protestant told him that “if one claims to know as much as I [Lewis] do, one could not be submissive and humble like a child. This is exactly the approach ARM suggests. The reason we Catholics are right, the reason we have the truth, the reason we are infallible, is exactly because of our Father.” (Vatican I and Vatican II discussed the infallibility of the magisterium, of the pope individually, and of the bishops united with him, but said nothing about the infallibility of individual laymen.)
In a multi-part series titled “Are We Too Harsh?” Lewis explained to readers of The ARMament why harshness is necessary. “I have been defending ARM and its approach against attackers and against those of you who don’t accept ARM as the correct way to evangelize and defend the faith. At this point, I request–no, demand–that those of you who are not convinced or who disagree correct me.”
Calling himself the “pit bull of apologetics,” Lewis has no low opinion of his own learning or skills. “I’m often accused of being arrogant and vain. This is not true. I have lots of faults, but arrogance and vanity are not among them. Perhaps I give this impression because I am right almost all of the time.” He considers himself an equal with better-known people. One example: “Aristotle and I teach that a statement can be true or false, but not both at once.”
Lewis does not pull punches; he is not worried about offending sensibilities. One day he was on a picket line. “There were only two non-Catholics outside Planned Parenthood that day: Bob, a devil-worshiper (i.e., member of the Church of the Nazarene), and Richard.”
Vin Lewis produces dozens of tapes. Most seem to be recorded while he is driving or while he is on the telephone arguing. It’s unclear from Lewis’s description of the tapes whether the people at the other end of the line know the conversations are being taped. Among the tapes listed in last May’s issue of The ARMament are these:
“‘Minister Larry’: A phone conversation with Larry, an independent minister who embarrasses himself in attempting to attack the true faith and defend his own belief system.”
“‘Cross-Examination of a Witness’: Jim, an expert Jehovah’s Witness, fails as he attempts to establish even one truth of his silly system.”
“‘How to Argue–and Win!’: This distillation of our proven techniques shows you have to destroy fallacy and establish valid, irrefutable points.”
“‘Mormon Maids’: Three female Mormon missionaries called on ARM headquarters [that is, Lewis’s home] and went away totally refuted, defeated, and exposed.”
“‘Mainline John’: John is a minister in a mainline Protestant denomination; he attempts–badly–to defend his beliefs.”
“‘The Jehovah’s Witnesses’ Defeat’: Two regular JWs knocked on the door of ARM President Vincent Lewis: They came, they saw, and they were conquered. This tape shows you exactly how to deal with the JWs. Vin ties them in knots, and so can you.”
“‘Kevin the Apostate’: Kevin had been ‘raised a Catholic’ and later joined a lunatic sect. Due to the intervention of an ARM associate, he agreed to spend an evening discussing religion with ARM President Vincent Lewis. Kevin knows a lot about Catholicism and is much better educated than the average apostate. But he didn’t stand a chance against ARM’s techniques.”
“‘The Papacy Triumphant!’: Despite Ron’s obdurate and continuous dishonesty, Vin totally defeats him.”
“‘Doug the Dodger’: He’s a classic example of the shifty Protestant who refuses to accept truth. If you run into that type–and you will–then see how the best Catholic apologist handles him.”
Nearly all the tapes feature Lewis, but at least one features his girlfriend: “‘Apologetics Workshop’: A debate between Cindy Hof of ARM and Paul, a self-proclaimed apostle, on the validity of Catholicism. Unsuccessful by both parties. Illustration of common errors in apologetics.”
If he shows perhaps less delicacy than one might expect toward his own girlfriend, it might come as no surprise that Lewis has acted less than responsibly elsewhere.
The February issue of The ARMament refers at length to a visit he made to Ohio. When he arrived in Steubenville, he visited Scott Hahn, who teaches theology at the Franciscan University. “I had no place to stay that night, so I relied on God. Scott, having never met me before, invited me to stay.” After reporting that Hahn agrees “with my approach to evangelization,” Lewis mentions Hahn’s wife Kimberly, “who immediately did everything to make me feel at home, and all their children, who seemed to accept me as an equal at once.” (The Hahn children then ranged in age from three to seven.)
Lewis later misrepresented Scott Hahn’s view of ARM’s tactics. On August 4 Catholic Twin Circle published an advertisement for ARM. Within a mass of small print Lewis claimed Hahn endorsed both the organization and its methods, but that wasn’t Hahn’s position at all. He telephoned the newspaper and demanded a retraction be printed. This is what the retraction said:
“Vincent Lewis of All Roads Ministry included a recommendation falsely attributed to me concerning his organization and combative style of argumentation. First, I was not informed by Mr. Lewis that he intended to use my name in this public advertisement. Second, I disavow ever making these statements of endorsement that were falsely attributed to me. Third, I do not endorse All Roads Ministry or Mr. Lewis’s so-called ‘apologetic’ techniques. Finally, I wish to state that, in my opinion, such techniques are ineffective and counterproductive.”
Vin Lewis works from an a priori position, not from experience; he looks at the abstract, not the existential. He follows certain syllogisms and concludes that all Protestants, if they are intelligent Protestants, are consciously adhering to lies. But has he asked former Protestants, such as the Hahns, about this?
In recent years we’ve seen a dribble of conversions become a swift stream, with promises of a floodtide. These conversions are occurring at every social and educational level, but perhaps the ones that chiefly reach our notice are those of younger, well-educated people with substantial theological backgrounds. Scott and Kimberly Hahn come to mind at once.
Did Lewis inquire of the Hahns whether they now, as devout and well-informed Catholics, look back at their years as Protestants as years of deceit? Were they intelligent Protestants mired in acknowledged lies, or were they stupid Protestants–too stupid to recognize the lies? If the latter, how did they get so smart so quickly? If the former, why, in their public conversion stories, have they never felt it necessary even to hint that they knowingly adhered to falsehoods as Protestants?
To state the questions even abstractly is to answer them sufficiently. To state them with respect to particular individuals is to answer them conclusively. No one who knows the Hahns can doubt their absolute sincerity today or can doubt that they were sincere as Protestants, nor can their intelligence, honesty, or rectitude be doubted. One sees replayed in them the drama played, with different costuming and accents perhaps, in Arnold Lunn, Edith Stein, G. K. Chesterton, Ronda Chervin, Thomas Howard, and so many others who have come into the faith from honestly and intelligently held positions.
But Vin Lewis can’t see this. He can’t conceive of a Protestant or any other non-Catholic being at once intelligent and honest. Little wonder, then, that he has had to acknowledge privately that he has converted no Protestant ministers to Catholicism, even though he concentrates his efforts on them. He is convinced his failure is due to their obduracy, not to his methods.
His problem is that he misdiagnoses minds and hearts and souls, so he prescribes the wrong remedies. His techniques are to apologetics what bleeding and leeching are to medicine. If the patient recovers, it is in spite of the ministrations, not because of them.