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Mary Reichard
Hello and thank you for joining us for a special edition of the World and Everything in It. I'm Mary Reichard. I'm joined today by best selling author and podcaster Andrew Clavin. Clavin spent an earlier part of his life as a screenwriter and crime novelist, so he knows a thing or two about storytelling. In his 40s, he converted from agnosticism to Catholicism and and these days he's exploring stories that don't shy away from darkness, but also point us toward hope. To that end, his latest book is called the Kingdom of Finding God in the Literature of Darkness. It's a deep look at how even the grimmest of stories can reveal light, truth, and beauty. And it's worth adding that though this is the focus of our conversation, there are some parts of this discussion that you might not want younger ears to hear. So, Andrew, welcome. It's so great to have you with us.
Andrew Clavin
Thank you. Thanks for having me. I appreciate it.
Mary Reichard
The one line out of the whole book that stuck with me the most was on page 107. It says, the long withdrawing tide of faith is the central event of our time. The collapse of the Christian moral order would inevitably follow from that. What is your more recent evidence of this decline?
Andrew Clavin
Well, I think it's all around us the actual decline in church attendance and the actual rise in people who identify as none of the above when asked for their religious affiliation. But more importantly than that, I think is the kind of takeover of our intellectual space by people who think things that could only possibly be true if there were no God, that men can become women, that morality is relative, that, you know, there's no such thing as truth or beauty. I mean, these are things that have been taught in our universities since I was a lad, which is almost the Jurassic period at this point. And I think that they, for until very, very recently, they were the dominant intellectual strain, not just in America, but all throughout the West. And so that's what I'm talking about. I mean, it's been when Nietzsche said God is dead, that's what he was talking about. The line that you quote is from a poem called Dover beach, famous poem about the fact that faith was leaving the world like a tide pulling out. And so I think that the proof of that is everywhere around us and hopefully it will turn. But it's going to take quite a movement for that to happen.
Mary Reichard
You describe in general some very heinous murders in real life and in the art world. Let's talk about Cain and Abel, the first murder that we know about. Why does the story of Cain and Abel still hold such spiritual weight in understanding evil today?
Andrew Clavin
The murder of Abel by Cain is the first thing that happens after the fall of man. And it not. It's the beginning of history. And it sets the tone of history in the same way. If you're traumatized in your childhood, that trauma can repeat and repeat throughout your life. The brother battle is the whole story of the Old Testament. One generation after another is engaged in a brother trying to seize power from the other brother. And all the themes that go into that, envy, inner strife, the kind of idea that brother murder in some way as a kind of suicide, a kind of killing of your own soul, all of those themes are involved in the murder of Cain and Abel. It's an incredibly profound moment in history and one that just repeats over and over again.
Mary Reichard
You wrote of Sigmund Freud's influence and then also all of the atheist philosophers, and you concluded that they could not make any sense of the moral order. So how did you come to that conclusion?
Andrew Clavin
In my youth, I had a terrible bout of depression and mental disorder and I went into therapy. I was close to suicide. I was very seriously considering it. I went to therapy and by what I now consider a miracle, I was utterly cured. I walked in suicidal, I came out happy, productive, at peace with myself. I've never actually seen that happen to anyone else except drug addicts, which I wasn't, you know, people who have actually come over, overcome some horrible affliction. But it was a 180 degree turnaround. And so at that point, even though I always sort of felt I was agnostic, I didn't know whether there was a God or not at that point, because Freud was such an ardent atheist, I thought, well, I, I owe it to, to this philosophy that has saved my life, that I thought had saved my life, that I should become an atheist. And I started reading atheist philosophy. But because I had read a very, very dark novel called Crime and about an axe murder when I was 19, I was absolutely convinced that morality was not relative, that you had to make an argument that some things are just wrong. When you read the axe murder in Crime and Punishment, you just think to yourself, no, there's no planet on this is right. And I remember reading this when I was 19 years old and my eyes filling with tears as I read it. She says to him, what have you done to yourself? What have you done to yourself? And I think that the reason we focus on the murderer is because we identify with the murderer. It's easier for us to identify with the murderer than with the victim. And when we take, when you take somebody inside the world of a murderer, in truth, not in, not in a phony way, but in truth, you start to answer that question, what have you done to yourself? You have cut yourself off from love, you've cut yourself off from God, you've cut yourself off from meaning. I think if you remove that novel from my life, I'm not sure I would be a Christian today. I think that actual, that book actually pointed, turned the prow of my life in a new direction. And that's why I'm such a supporter of the literature of darkness, because I think that it's only in confronting darkness that non believers and believers can understand just how beautiful the light is. So I was looking for an atheist who could make sense of the fact that there was a moral order. And every atheist philosopher I read did not make sense of that and didn't make sense. And I kept searching for it. And finally I came upon the work of the Marquis de Sade, who is the psychopath from whom we get the word sadism, and his work is sadistic pornography interspersed with brilliant philosophy. Why is it okay to torture somebody for your own pleasure? And I read that and I thought that is the first atheist philosophy that actually holds together. Because what de Sade said is, there's no God, therefore there is no morality, therefore you should do whatever gives you pleasure. And in nature, the powerful overcome the weak. So why wouldn't you take pleasure in being the powerful and torment the weak? I thought, well, that makes sense. But it's hell, you know, it's like. It's like, it's horrific. And so I made the only leap of faith I ever made in my journey to God, which is, I thought, I just. I believe there's. That that's wrong. I believe there's a moral order. I believe no matter where you are, no matter what the people around you believe, no matter what country you're in, no matter what planet you're in, torturing somebody for your own pleasure is wrong. And I can't prove that's true, but I know it's true. That's what's called an axiom. Every, every philosophy begins with an axiom, something you can't prove, but on which everything else depends. And from that point on, there was no way for me to avoid the conclusion that there is a God, that there is a. An overseer of the moral order. Because in order for there to be a moral order, there must be some consciousness that approves of things and disapproves of other things.
Mary Reichard
Andrew, I want to return to something you mentioned about the Marquis de Sade. In his way of thinking, in nature, the powerful overcome the weak. So why wouldn't you take pleasure in being the powerful and then torment the weak? That thought terrified me because as a person who moves through this world in the female incarnation, I am always the weaker one compared to a man. So I would hope that there is a moral order. Otherwise, if we had gone the way of the Marquis de Sade, women would always be killed.
Andrew Clavin
Well, that's right. And you know, this is the amazing thing. It was really only through Christianity that people started to think, well, maybe a woman. Just because a woman can be overpowered doesn't mean she should be. You know, that was an actual Christian thing. Thought up until that time, power really gave you, you know, in the Roman Empire, for instance, power gave you the right to take anybody who was less powerful than you are. And this whole idea that women rights, just women's rights just drop upon us like the dew from heaven, no, it's actually something that grew out of the philosophy of Jesus Christ. And so, yes, this is the thing. You can be a moral person without believing in God, but you can't make sense.
Mary Reichard
I think latter day feminism left that out. You have had some criticism about being a Christian and writing about these dark things. So that raised a question in my mind. If hating one's brother is as bad as murder, why explore extreme depravity to show separation from God? Why not just stick to something less shocking?
Andrew Clavin
Because I think that that's where the line is drawn. I think that the thing that is in some ways illuminating about murder, you know, it's one of the things that God has over the devil, is that whatever the devil does actually illuminates the sacred. And one of the things about murder, is it because it's so horrific, because we understand right away that it's bad, it makes you think, well, what's bad about it? Why is it bad? And what's bad about it is the fullness and sacredness of another person. You know that I think all morality is based on that understanding. Morality is based on my understanding that you are as important to you inside as I am to me inside, and that we are both equally important to God inside. And so I think murder is the absolute statement. You know, it's the absolute dramatization of that sanctity. And once you deny that sanctity, you put yourself in a position of having.
Mary Reichard
Done evil that does make sense of it. Along those lines, what do you think about this idea that studying evil is like eating from the tree of knowledge of good and evil? It's sin just dressed up as insight, like bad psychology.
Andrew Clavin
No, I completely disagree with that. I mean, I'm always. I'm always having Philippians thrown at me, people saying, you know, you should meditate on what's good and noble and true. And if that. If that verse, I mean, that's a complicated verse and an interesting one, but if that, all that means is. It's like the song from Peter Pan. You know, think of the happiest things is the same as having wings. You have to remember that Peter Pan never grew up. And if you have a faith that cannot exist in the real world, you are going to lose that faith. When the real world confronts you with the kind of suffering and evil that it does confront you with. That doesn't mean. That doesn't mean that there's not a way to confront evil that is seductive and destructive. I think that, you know, just because I believe that an actual work of art like Psycho. Psycho's a fine movie, can be illuminating even as it's terrifying. That doesn't mean that I think pornography is. Is edifying. I think it's poison. I'm, you know, I'm a complete believer in freedom of speech. But if they outlawed pornography, I wouldn't blink because I just think it's toxic, a toxin being pumped into our society. But that's not true of. Of work that deals seriously with the human nature of evil, with the human nature of lust and greed and all the other things that we all deal with in our hearts. That stuff is not for other people. It's in our hearts. And I think just saying it's not there. And I'm not going to look at it and I'm not going to think about it. Is actually. Is actually opening the door to evil because of your own ignorance. When I look at plays that are about horrible things, like Macbeth is always my best example. It's one of the most beautiful plays ever written, but it's about nihilism, death, you know, betrayal. Every evil that you can think of is in that play. And yet it is a beautiful thing because it actually shows you what evil is and what it does to you, how it separates you from the moral order and therefore separates you from all meaning and all love.
Mary Reichard
So how do you distinguish between art that is redemptive and art that just wallows in evil? Where's the line?
Andrew Clavin
Right. I think there's no formula for this. You have to know when you see it. But I think it's kind of easy to know. I always tell this story. I was working in Hollywood for a while for my sins, and one company called me in and said, we're going to tell you the story, and we want to know how you would write it. And I said, okay. And they said, well, a woman is kidnapped and she's tortured. And I said, yeah. And they said, that's the story. And I laughed. I said, yeah, I'm not writing that story. I said, when a woman is being chased on a movie screen by the bad guy, I'm rooting for the woman. You know, writing that story. You have to know. And you. And you do know. It is really interesting. I mean, that was. That story happened to me at a time when something called torture porn was very, very popular in Hollywood. And the whole system was a woman would come on and in some sex scene, she would take off her. Her shirt and we'd see how beautiful she was, and then she'd just be ripped apart. Art for the rest of the movie. And I. I tried, because it was so popular, I tried to watch one of these, and I thought, I'm not looking at this. This is. This is just like drinking poison. I. I don't need this. It's very, very different to confront a work of art like Macbeth that delves into terrible, terrible things. Or I should mention the Bible, which portrays terrible, terrible things, but portrays them in the context of a moral order. And I think that's the difference. I think that's the difference between, you know, the Bible does that, Shakespeare does that, Dostoevsky does that. All great writers, even good writers do it. And I think that's the big difference.
Mary Reichard
So I'm curious, is there a way to determine if art is Christian, if it contains violence or sorrow? What should we make of those elements?
Andrew Clavin
Well, I believe that all truth is Christian. That's what I believe. And this is one of the things that I think is a shame about the modern world and religion in the modern world is I think that we put Christianity aside. It's a thing that you do. You go to church on Sunday, you say certain things, and those are Christian things, and other things are not Christian things. I don't actually believe that. I believe that if there is a God, which I think. I not only think there is, I have complete faith that there is. That's the center of reality. That's the nature of reality. He is the expression. The reality is an expression of his nature. And our moral sense is an expression of his nature. So I think that any true story is will, you know, all things work together. For those who love God, I think any true story will express God. And that's why I'm not afraid of people who are trying to write nihilist fiction if they're honest, if they're truthful. I think that if people are truthful, if people express life as it is, even if they write fantasy, even if they write the Lord of the Rings, it will express God. And that's why I think the arts are misunderstood by Christians. And so I don't know the arts. I keep trying to tell people this, and I don't get as far as I'd like to. Christian life and Christian art are two different things. Art that is honest will be Christian art. Someone once asked the great justice, Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia, who was a devout Catholic, what does a Christian judge look like? And he said, he looks like a good judge. And I think that that's what Christian art looks like. It looks like good art.
Mary Reichard
Mm. You know, Justice Scalia was one of my favorites. But moving on. Now, the murders you chose to talk about, almost all of them seem to involve sexually confused people. Men alienated from masculinity, men who kill women and desecrate their bodies to try to get some semblance of femininity for themselves. Do you think that kind of literature is. Has contributed to the rage and gender confusion we have today?
Andrew Clavin
No, I think. No. I think that that kind of literature has expressed it and predicted it. I think that the. The Ed Gein murder, which is the murder that you're talking about, it's the murder that inspired Psycho. It inspired Silence of the Lambs. It inspired an excellent horror movie called the Texas, with a hilarious title. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, in spite of that title, is actually a really good film. And all of the slasher movies, from the trash, the trashy ones to some good ones, are all inspired by that one murder. And I think the reason it was so powerful, the reason it struck people so powerful, is because art actually is predictive of the future if it captures the moment fully. And I think that gender confusion is built into atheism. It is built into the loss of faith in our culture, where suddenly, if you have no faith, if you have no spirit, your body is just a shape. Your femininity is not an inner experience. It's just a body shape. And that's what the story of Silence of the Lambs is about. This guy trying to change his body shape because he thinks it'll turn him into a woman. And now we have people basically putting on a skirt. They don't even bother to change their body shape and saying, oh, I can't go into the girl's locker room. I can play against the girl at sports. And. And what's the problem here? Are you some sort of bigot that you think that, look at me, I'm wearing a skirt, you think I'm not a girl? That. That insanity. That insanity arises directly from atheism and from an atheistic view of the world, which I think was expressed in. In our over reliance on therapy. It's not that I'm against therapy, but I think that the atheist therapy put forward by Sigmund Freud had in it the implications that we're just accidental. Our flesh is just an accidental part of our nature instead of an expression of our souls. And so I think that. That. I don't think the art contributed to that confusion. I think the art portrayed and predicted that confusion. I think we should have listened to it more carefully.
Mary Reichard
Predictive literature. Interesting. You talk about good art and bad art and you write about Michelangelo's Pieta, the sculpture showing Mary holding the body of Jesus. What does that depiction of suffering teach us about beauty?
Andrew Clavin
Well, this, to me, this is where the book ends. It ends with the Pieta, which I believe is the most beautiful work of sculpture in the world. I've never seen anything. I've seen a lot of arts all over the world, and there's nothing like the Pieta. When you confront it, it is such a beautiful thing. When Michelangelo signed the contract for it, the contract said it must be the most beautiful thing ever made in marble, you know, And I thought, like, he was a pretty confident guy, that he signed that contract and then delivered on it. He delivered the most beautiful thing ever made in marble. But then stop and think about it. What is it a picture of? It's a picture of a woman with her dead son Mary, cradling the dead body of Jesus. And so it is a picture of the saddest possible thing that can happen to. To a human being in life or a mother to lose her child. There is simply nothing sadder or more tragic than that. And then it goes beyond that. Since this is the world losing its God for a moment in that moment of death, it's a revelation of our estrangement from God that we would crucify him when we found him. When we saw him right in front of us. It is absolutely the worst moment in human history. And yet, and yet Michelangelo made it beautiful. And so when you see that, one of the things that keeps people from believing, I think probably the central thing that keeps people from believing is the question, how can there be an all good, all knowing God when the world is so full of evil? And I don't think all of the usual Christian answers carry the day. The idea of, well, it's for free will and there has to be evil for there to be free will. And the world is broken and Adam and Eve and all this stuff, none of that really helps you when you're in the midst of evil, when you're in the midst of suffering, when you're in the midst of darkness. But the idea that we might be a small part of a beauty that we can't see, we can't fully comprehend, because now we see through a glass darkly, but we'll then see face to face. That, to me, is the answer.
Mary Reichard
You write that your outlook in life has gotten darker as you've gotten older, but that your serenity has increased. What do you mean by that?
Andrew Clavin
Well, that's the funny thing. When I, when I realized, I mean, I. I've made my living as a. A crime writer. I write about crime stories, murder and, you know, gangsters and all these things, all these terrible things. And when I realized I was becoming a Christian, I prayed to God, I said, oh, please, God, do not let me become a Christian novelist. You know, because I hate those novels. I hate those happy novels where everything is great and everything's for the family and all, you know, I, I know, don't. And listen, I'm not against them. I'm not philosophically against them. If you enjoy that, that's great. But it would be like, I can't sit through a romantic comedy. It would be the same thing as turning me into the writer of romantic comedies. I love tough guy fiction and that's what I write. So I was afraid that my attitude, I'd lose my sense of realism. And instead what happened was my sense of realism grew much, much darker because now I had a sense of sin and morality and the distance we are from our souls are from God. And I saw it all around me and things got darker and darker. But at the same time, even as I was realizing that my joy was increasing, my serenity was increasing, my peace was increasing, because I suddenly realized that, oh, this is all taking place in the context of this great designer. Great design.
Mary Reichard
Yeah. And then on page 123, this really jumped out to Me, the barbarian intellectual, the materialist, thinker of psychopath. I'm telling you, when I lived in the Chicago area, I was around really intellectual people, you know, University of Chicago kind of people. Smart people who knew about a lot of things. Math and literature, geography, history and science. And then I moved to the Ozarks where fewer people are college educated. But. But they were wiser in so many ways. And so I don't have to convince a farmer that if he wants to have a herd, he needs a bull and some cows. You know, you can't just have all bulls or all cows. So talk about that a bit.
Andrew Clavin
That kind of intellect that you're talking about. There are different kinds of intellect. And that kind of intellect that you're talking about that you saw in Chicago, I've seen in New York and LA and London and all these places is supposed to be the servant of. Of a greater heart. And I think that people who are good at that intellect have a tendency to get seduced by the intellect into thinking that it makes them better than other people. It makes them good. It makes them potentially great servants of other people. I wouldn't want an untrained doctor to operate on me. I wouldn't want an untrained, you know, scientist to do experiments. I want people who are learned to do those things. I want a novelist who knows how to use the English language and who's educated in that. But if you don't understand that these are instruments in service of love, then you don't understand anything. And I know a lot like you. I know a lot of intellectuals who do not know anything at all. And they develop these systems and the systems don't work. And they can't admit the systems don't work. It's pride. I believe that I am here. Whatever talent I have belongs to the people that I serve. And that. And if I'm not doing that, if I'm just showing off or demonstrating how brilliant I am and how wonderful it is that I can dissect some idea I'm failing. Anything can be taken apart. Anything can be taken apart by the intellect. You can prove anything by the intellect. And that's why you have to start with an axiom that there is such a thing as good and evil and that you are determined to serve the good. And I think that's the difference between an ant and Scalia, who was such a brilliant justice, and many people who are just as brilliant but are stupid as a brick. I think that's the difference, is that sense, the fact that he was a devout believer, I think led him on his way.
Mary Reichard
Andrew Clavin, thank you so much. Really enjoyed talking to you.
Andrew Clavin
It's a pleasure. Thanks for having me, Sam.
Podcast Summary: The World and Everything In It
Episode: Darkness, Beauty, and Belief
Release Date: June 14, 2025
Host: Mary Reichard
Guest: Andrew Clavin, Bestselling Author and Podcaster
In this thought-provoking episode of The World and Everything In It, host Mary Reichard engages in a deep conversation with Andrew Clavin, a bestselling author and podcaster known for his exploration of dark themes intertwined with hope and faith. Clavin, who transitioned from agnosticism to Catholicism in his 40s, discusses his latest work, Kingdom of Finding God in the Literature of Darkness. The episode delves into the interplay between darkness and beauty, the decline of faith in modern society, and the moral implications of art and literature.
Mary Reichard opens the discussion by highlighting a poignant line from Clavin's book: "The long withdrawing tide of faith is the central event of our time. The collapse of the Christian moral order would inevitably follow from that." (00:57)
Clavin elaborates on this decline, pointing to decreasing church attendance and the rise of individuals who identify with no religious affiliation. He emphasizes the pervasive influence of ideologies that reject the existence of God, promote gender fluidity, and endorse moral relativism. Referencing Nietzsche's proclamation "God is dead," Clavin underscores the widespread erosion of faith and its impact on Western intellectual thought. He observes, "The proof of that is everywhere around us and hopefully it will turn. But it's going to take quite a movement for that to happen." (01:19)
Transitioning to biblical narratives, Mary introduces the story of Cain and Abel—the first recorded murder—and its enduring spiritual relevance. (02:33)
Clavin responds by framing the murder of Abel by Cain as the inception of human history and the recurring theme of sibling rivalry and moral conflict throughout the Old Testament. He notes, "It's an incredibly profound moment in history and one that just repeats over and over again." (02:50) This narrative serves as a foundational example of inherent human flaws and the struggle between good and evil.
Clavin shares his personal battle with depression and how therapy played a pivotal role in his recovery, transforming his outlook from suicidal ideation to one of peace and productivity. (03:35)
Despite his initial alignment with atheistic philosophies, particularly those of Sigmund Freud, Clavin found these doctrines insufficient in explaining moral absolutes. He recounts reading Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment and being moved to tears, leading him to reject moral relativism. Clavin states, "I believe that's wrong. I believe there's a moral order." (06:17) This conviction formed the cornerstone of his journey toward faith, as he sought a coherent explanation for inherent moral truths.
Mary probes Clavin's assertion that literature and art can both portray and reveal deep truths about evil and beauty. She raises the question: "If hating one's brother is as bad as murder, why explore extreme depravity to show separation from God?" (09:09)
Clavin defends the exploration of darkness in art, arguing that confronting evil is essential for understanding and appreciating the sacred. He contrasts works like Macbeth and Psycho with mere "torture porn," emphasizing that meaningful art delves into the nature of evil to highlight moral truths. Clavin asserts, "Murder is the absolute dramatization of that sanctity." (09:48)
The conversation shifts to distinguishing between redemptive art and art that merely dwells in evil. (12:11)
Clavin explains that true art, whether Christian or not, must be honest and truthful in its depiction. He recounts an experience in Hollywood where he refused to write a superficial torture narrative, choosing instead to create stories with moral substance. According to Clavin, "Christian life and Christian art are two different things. Art that is honest will be Christian art." (12:57) He emphasizes that Christian art inherently embodies goodness and moral integrity, aligning with the belief that all truth is Christian.
Mary addresses the portrayal of gender confusion in literature and its potential impact on societal attitudes towards gender identity. (15:28)
Clavin argues that such literature doesn't cause confusion but rather reflects and predicts existing societal shifts. He links gender confusion to atheism, suggesting that the loss of spiritual grounding leads individuals to view gender as merely a physical attribute rather than an intrinsic identity. Clavin critiques modern portrayals of gender fluidity, asserting that they stem from a nihilistic worldview devoid of spiritual meaning. He insists, "That insanity arises directly from atheism and from an atheistic view of the world." (15:58)
In discussing Michelangelo's Pieta, Clavin explores the intersection of suffering and beauty. (18:00)
He describes the sculpture as the epitome of beauty intertwined with profound sorrow, depicting Mary cradling the lifeless body of Jesus. Clavin reflects on how this artwork encapsulates the tragic estrangement from God, yet is rendered in exquisite beauty. He posits that such depictions help believers reconcile the existence of evil with divine beauty, offering a glimpse into a larger, incomprehensible design. Clavin concludes, "That we might be a small part of a beauty that we can't see, we can't fully comprehend..." (18:16)
As the conversation wraps up, Clavin shares insights into his evolving worldview. He acknowledges that while his perspective on life has grown darker with age—recognizing the pervasive presence of sin and morality—the serenity and peace he experiences have deepened due to his faith in a divine designer. (20:20)
Mary concludes by reflecting on the contrast between intellectual elitism and practical wisdom, citing Clavin's observations of different communities. The episode ends with mutual appreciation, highlighting the meaningful exchange between host and guest on the profound themes of darkness, beauty, and belief.
Notable Quotes:
Mary Reichard (00:57): "The long withdrawing tide of faith is the central event of our time. The collapse of the Christian moral order would inevitably follow from that."
Andrew Clavin (01:19): "It's been when Nietzsche said God is dead, that's what he was talking about."
Andrew Clavin (06:17): "I believe that there's a moral order. I believe no matter where you are, no matter what the people around you believe, torturing somebody for your own pleasure is wrong."
Andrew Clavin (12:57): "I believe that any true story will express God."
Andrew Clavin (18:16): "That we might be a small part of a beauty that we can't see, we can't fully comprehend..."
This summary is intended to provide a comprehensive overview of the episode for those who have not listened, capturing the essence of the discussions and the insights shared by Andrew Clavin.