Recently, I have been trying to see things from the perspective of a dear friend of mine, who is in the midst of the long and often tense process of growing up to become a wonderful young woman. Being still in the midst (though hopefully closer to the end than the beginning) of my own rather stressful transition into manhood and the responsibilities full manhood entails (that is, to others, instead of just to one's self), I have a great deal of sympathy for my friend. All my life I have been fascinated by the behavior of other people. From early childhood I watched what big people did, what other little people did, and before too long I found myself as a person in between worlds, where in some areas I was like the big people, and in other areas I was like the little people, though I have never found myself very much like the other people my own age. As I have gotten older and (hopefully) wiser, I have still retained a great many qualities from my youth, including my extreme tenderness for little people and my extreme curiosity about the behavior of those around me. Somehow, these things never got lost along the course of my life, and so I often feel both a great deal older and a great deal younger than I am. I can find myself amused by the humorous and innocent antics of small children, feel with the earnest struggles of my teenage friend, and enjoy the intelligent and serious conversations with adults who are often (at least) my parents' age, often in the same day.
Moving in between worlds has its advantages. Each world has its own unique perspective. For children, the world is a very small place, centered around the child and his (or her) wants and needs (and usually the child cannot separate these very well). Hours can pass by quickly while having fun, or minutes can feel like hours in boredom and frustration. For a teenager, there are often great ambitions, and the desire to be as free as an adult, with a fear of the oppressive responsibilities looming, arguing (either out loud or silently) with one's parents, trying to find one's own identity and place in the world. For many (like myself), the struggles to sort out our feelings about ourselves, our place in the world, our families, our destiny, and where we stand with others continue long after the teenage years ends. For young adults, determining who we are in terms of our education, our jobs, and our friends only leads to other questions of a lasting nature--such as our thoughts for eternity (once we realize we are not immortal--though somehow I managed to escape feeling immortal during my youth, and struggled with a different sort of problem), and our thoughts about what sort of responsibilities we wish to take on in our workplaces, as well as dealing with family (such as, do we want to have one of our own?), once the realization that we were not created to be alone means we must take on responsibilities of seeking and becoming examples for others to follow.
I do not know the world of full adulthood, in the sense of being married and having children, but from what I have seen of others, it offers new challenges in dealing with this need to be a good example for those that follow after us. Successful self-control and the establishment of godly relationships with others leads us into greater responsibilities where we exercise rule over others in households, in businesses, in congregations, and in the world at large. Once again, if we are faithful in little, we are given more to deal with. I know even less of what being elderly means, but here again is a change--we leave a lot of the hustle and bustle to younger people, and sometimes must depend on others to take care of us (especially if health becomes an issue), but at the same time there is an entire lifetime of great stories we have to tell others (and I always love hearing the stories people have to tell), as well as a lot of wisdom about how to treat others, and how to view our life over the long term.
I still remember and look back fondly at the times I spent with my great-grandfather Matthias as we drank root beer, he smoked cigars, and we watched football (during bowl season, when there were some college games not on Saturdays). He would tell stories about the other athletes he knew, who he boxed with and played football with, still sound of mind, still full of his dislike of foreigners and Catholics, still full of love for his far-flung family. Among his great-grandchildren, perhaps I was the least like him, bookish and not gifted with much athletic ability. But it didn't matter--I loved hearing his stories and he loved telling them, and somehow I feel I needed to hear them as much as he needed to tell them, and vice versa. He was as uncomfortable with his position in life as I was with mine, but in sharing his stories and wisdom he gave me a great gift in seeing the world, if only for a little bit, through the eyes of someone else. And in having someone who was so interested in his stories, perhaps he realized that even if he couldn't work anymore, that he still had something to give to the world around him.
It seems that in life, if we are living it properly, we are always somehow moving in between worlds. We were created with infinite longing in our hearts, and a miniscule reach, and though that can be tragic (as we may be filled with much angst and worry about our inabilities to deal with the responsibilities and burdens we have been given), it can also be wonderfully liberating as well to know that we are not stuck in little boxes for all time. Because we can grow, can learn, and can mature, we also are faced with the need of developing the ability to see where others come from, in the knowledge that sometimes we have been there before, and sometimes we will be there in time. There should always be something more for us to explore, some new challenge to overcome, some mountain to climb, some story to hear and to tell, some book to read, some relationship to deepen, someone to teach, someone to learn from, some reason to look at the world wide-eyed and enthusiastic about what is to come today, some reason to have hope for what may come tomorrow, and some reason to be glad one had yesterday. We do not choose to be alive, but if we are wise, we choose to live the lives we have been given as best as we may, and to hope and pray that it is enough, for if we are truly blessed, we just may have the opportunity to move beyond this world today into a world tomorrow that we can scarcely begin to imagine. But to live tomorrow, we must live well today.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
On Theonomy
In the course of my theological readings, I have come across a movement that describes itself as a fringe on the fringe of Calvinism, but though it springs from somewhat different denominational origins than my own personal religious tradition, it springs from nearly identical hermeneutical (and presuppositional) assumptions about how to interpret scripture, even if the interpretations themselves are sometimes different. This relatively recent theological phenomenon is called Theonomy, coming from the Greek words for "God's law," and this group of people, mostly from a Protestant Reconstructionist background (more on that in a bit), view God's law as the sole source of human ethics. This particular viewpoint also views the biblical laws (especially those found in the Penteteuch) as remaining valid in Christianity, a view I hold most strongly and that springs from my own personal religious heritage. It almost goes without saying that this view also holds the scriptures to be inerrant and to be the eternal and unchanging standard for how individuals, families, churches, and societies to behave.
Many of the people who are called (or who call themselves) Theonomists spring from a Calvinist and postmillennialist tradition, with the belief that regeneration of society can spring from a conversion of people to biblical Christianity and the adoption of a biblical worldview that leads to actions by believers in line with biblical principles. Many theonomists, particularly those whose believes are in accordance with Dominion Theology, view the millennium as something to be brought about by an ever-more redeemed Christianity whose biblical worldview ever increasingly influences the world around us, thus bringing corrupt and fallen human institutions further and further in line with God's laws, thus eventually bringing the millennium to this earth through the action of the Holy Spirit in believers.
I do not come from that particular tradition, nor am I particularly optimistic about the ability of human society to be redeemed apart from the direct imposition of biblical law by Jesus Christ upon his return to earth. As someone who believes the law to be an enduring covenant between God and believers for all time and also believes the law to represent the way in which God has ordained for society to be run, though, I would have to consider myself a Theonomist in some fashion. Interestingly enough, I find myself in recent years to have found quite a few close friends of mine within the Church of God tradition who themselves have been (almost without knowing it, perhaps) engaging in serious research and Bible study on exactly these lines, and I have been the fond reader (and occasional implementer) of this research. What all of these lines of thinking, many proceeding from independent grounds, have in common is their start from the premise that God's law in its entirety remains a part of the covenant that Christians commit to by accepting a personal relationship with God. This idea of the covenant as containing within it the entirety of biblical law as revealed in scripture leads to interesting implications, and I will briefly examine some of them here.
For example, one friend of mine has recently written a lengthy and quite authoritative study on the biblical precedent for self-defense springing from the case law of the Penteteuch. It follows that if that one considers that law to be authoritative and binding in its entirety for Christians today unless specifically revised by the New Testament, that self-defense remains a right, and the defense of innocent life remains a responsibility for Christians today. The only way one can sever the link is either through dubious interpretations of the NT that are themselves divorced from proper context, or through denying the validity of the entire Bible to the conduct of Christians. If one does not wish to obey God's commands, and is not willing to admit one's self as a sinner (as, unfortunately, is necessary for me to do quite often) one is left to partake of the tree of the knowledge of Good and Evil and face the punishment of a rebel and a traitor to God's kingdom.
Another friend of mine was a co-writer some years ago in a short book about Sabbath observance which has created quite a storm. Though I struggle to put into practice the ideals of that book about Sabbath observance, it did trigger some thinking about how people react when their actions fall short of the standards of, say, Nehemiah. A friend of mine, who disagreed quite strongly with the analysis and found the point of the research to be glaringly obvious (it is), nonetheless conceeded that if Christians are to be an example to the world that it would then follow that these recommendations would need to be followed. Are we not to be an example to the world? We have not been called to retreat from this world, though we are called to be different from the world even as we interact with the world and provide examples of how citizens of God's kingdom should behave, which would automatically make us an example, whether we want to be or not. What this means is sometimes difficult to determine, though it is something we should always keep in mind.
Even in my own writings, without realizing it, I have examined matters from a Theonomic perspective. An example of this is in my work on the development of Christian virtue, in which I maintained that the development of Christian virtue comes through internalizing God's law such that it no longer becomes a list of do's and don'ts, but rather becomes so entrenched that one sees the law as a prompting to behave in love far beyond the minimum requirements of the law (see, for example, the way in which Boaz surpassed the minimum requirement of allowing Ruth to glean and was prompted to show great generosity to her without shaming her). It is in this sense that the law remains, not as a billy club to pound others for not being obedient, but rather as a way to develop, through the habit of obedience, the very loving character of God Himself, so that we may become more like Him in the way in which we conduct our lives. It is also in this way that we can redeem our own families and congregations, one life at a time.
Perhaps it is in this way that my agreement with the Theonomists is most profound, because it is not something to be done from the top-down, but rather from the bottom-up, and all redemption must spring from the free choice of people, one at a time, to accept the divine offer of unmerited grace. It is only then that redemption can work its magic to heal the wounds of life in a fallen world, to turn repentant sinners into fitting examples of godly behavior, and to help redeem the curse that has fallen upon this world.
Many of the people who are called (or who call themselves) Theonomists spring from a Calvinist and postmillennialist tradition, with the belief that regeneration of society can spring from a conversion of people to biblical Christianity and the adoption of a biblical worldview that leads to actions by believers in line with biblical principles. Many theonomists, particularly those whose believes are in accordance with Dominion Theology, view the millennium as something to be brought about by an ever-more redeemed Christianity whose biblical worldview ever increasingly influences the world around us, thus bringing corrupt and fallen human institutions further and further in line with God's laws, thus eventually bringing the millennium to this earth through the action of the Holy Spirit in believers.
I do not come from that particular tradition, nor am I particularly optimistic about the ability of human society to be redeemed apart from the direct imposition of biblical law by Jesus Christ upon his return to earth. As someone who believes the law to be an enduring covenant between God and believers for all time and also believes the law to represent the way in which God has ordained for society to be run, though, I would have to consider myself a Theonomist in some fashion. Interestingly enough, I find myself in recent years to have found quite a few close friends of mine within the Church of God tradition who themselves have been (almost without knowing it, perhaps) engaging in serious research and Bible study on exactly these lines, and I have been the fond reader (and occasional implementer) of this research. What all of these lines of thinking, many proceeding from independent grounds, have in common is their start from the premise that God's law in its entirety remains a part of the covenant that Christians commit to by accepting a personal relationship with God. This idea of the covenant as containing within it the entirety of biblical law as revealed in scripture leads to interesting implications, and I will briefly examine some of them here.
For example, one friend of mine has recently written a lengthy and quite authoritative study on the biblical precedent for self-defense springing from the case law of the Penteteuch. It follows that if that one considers that law to be authoritative and binding in its entirety for Christians today unless specifically revised by the New Testament, that self-defense remains a right, and the defense of innocent life remains a responsibility for Christians today. The only way one can sever the link is either through dubious interpretations of the NT that are themselves divorced from proper context, or through denying the validity of the entire Bible to the conduct of Christians. If one does not wish to obey God's commands, and is not willing to admit one's self as a sinner (as, unfortunately, is necessary for me to do quite often) one is left to partake of the tree of the knowledge of Good and Evil and face the punishment of a rebel and a traitor to God's kingdom.
Another friend of mine was a co-writer some years ago in a short book about Sabbath observance which has created quite a storm. Though I struggle to put into practice the ideals of that book about Sabbath observance, it did trigger some thinking about how people react when their actions fall short of the standards of, say, Nehemiah. A friend of mine, who disagreed quite strongly with the analysis and found the point of the research to be glaringly obvious (it is), nonetheless conceeded that if Christians are to be an example to the world that it would then follow that these recommendations would need to be followed. Are we not to be an example to the world? We have not been called to retreat from this world, though we are called to be different from the world even as we interact with the world and provide examples of how citizens of God's kingdom should behave, which would automatically make us an example, whether we want to be or not. What this means is sometimes difficult to determine, though it is something we should always keep in mind.
Even in my own writings, without realizing it, I have examined matters from a Theonomic perspective. An example of this is in my work on the development of Christian virtue, in which I maintained that the development of Christian virtue comes through internalizing God's law such that it no longer becomes a list of do's and don'ts, but rather becomes so entrenched that one sees the law as a prompting to behave in love far beyond the minimum requirements of the law (see, for example, the way in which Boaz surpassed the minimum requirement of allowing Ruth to glean and was prompted to show great generosity to her without shaming her). It is in this sense that the law remains, not as a billy club to pound others for not being obedient, but rather as a way to develop, through the habit of obedience, the very loving character of God Himself, so that we may become more like Him in the way in which we conduct our lives. It is also in this way that we can redeem our own families and congregations, one life at a time.
Perhaps it is in this way that my agreement with the Theonomists is most profound, because it is not something to be done from the top-down, but rather from the bottom-up, and all redemption must spring from the free choice of people, one at a time, to accept the divine offer of unmerited grace. It is only then that redemption can work its magic to heal the wounds of life in a fallen world, to turn repentant sinners into fitting examples of godly behavior, and to help redeem the curse that has fallen upon this world.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
On Thankfulness
As Thanksgiving approaches, I have thought (naturally) about the subject of thankfulness and gratitude, and apparently it is not a subject I have ever talked about directly in this particular blog, so I would like to correct that notable oversight. Thinking about the things one has to be grateful for is a useful task, a balance to the sort of complaints that are sometimes a bit too quick to come. Though this almost-completed year has had a lot of stress, I have many things to be very thankful for, and while this is not a complete list, it should at least serve as a start.
*Start the drumroll*
I would first like to thank God (a good place to start), because while this year has been crazy, stresfull, and full of ups and downs, it has also been full of a lot of much-needed lessons, and much-needed love. I'm not sure where some of the parts of my life are going, but I am thankful to be alive, in good health, with people who love me (more on that below). I consider much of these developments to be due to the grace of God and not my own modest skill.
I would also like to thank my family this year, both in the physical and spiritual sense. As I have detailed in at least one post, I have had a difficult time with some members of my family this year, but getting some issues out in the open helped me (and they) realize that our love for each other was present, even if it was not always recognized. I get the feeling my family is always going to be the source of some drama in my life, but things are much easier to deal with when you can see the love. My spiritual family in South America this year was also especially warm and loving, and helped me to see that some of the issues I struggle with have at the base of them a lack of recognition of love, and are much easier to deal with in the context of loving relationships with other people. We were not made to be alone, but were made to live in a nexus of warm and affectionate relationships.
Speaking of relationships, the feast in Mendoza has given me a very unusual one with a very lovely young lady named Cony. I cannot call her my girlfriend, as she is not, but in being a sweet and loving and affectionate young lady, full of kind words, a gentle touch, and an open heart, she showed me something very important that I needed to learn, and taught me that underneath all of the scars that there is a loving, tender, and even brave heart within me, and that I have the capacity to love and feel loved in return, and that is a gift I greatly treasure, even if I don't really know how to handle it at this point, as I'm still trying to sort it all out. Again, this blessing was not due to my own doing, but rather was a gift from God through a sweet young lady who I hope I always have the chance to chat with.
I must also give some thanks to other friends that I have, as they have patiently listened to me tell my complicated stories, help me figure out what it means, and been generally supportive even in difficult times. A good friend is one who celebrates with those who laugh, and cries with those who mourn, and there has been plenty of both this year to be had. My friends have given me some welcome advice, helped me calm down my rather tense nerves, and given congratulations (and the occasional warning) when necessary, as well as giving many recommendations on books to read, podcasts to listen to, and so on. Without such friends in my life, I would certainly be a lot worse off. Even a kvetchy sort like myself has much to be thankful for, and so do you.
*Start the drumroll*
I would first like to thank God (a good place to start), because while this year has been crazy, stresfull, and full of ups and downs, it has also been full of a lot of much-needed lessons, and much-needed love. I'm not sure where some of the parts of my life are going, but I am thankful to be alive, in good health, with people who love me (more on that below). I consider much of these developments to be due to the grace of God and not my own modest skill.
I would also like to thank my family this year, both in the physical and spiritual sense. As I have detailed in at least one post, I have had a difficult time with some members of my family this year, but getting some issues out in the open helped me (and they) realize that our love for each other was present, even if it was not always recognized. I get the feeling my family is always going to be the source of some drama in my life, but things are much easier to deal with when you can see the love. My spiritual family in South America this year was also especially warm and loving, and helped me to see that some of the issues I struggle with have at the base of them a lack of recognition of love, and are much easier to deal with in the context of loving relationships with other people. We were not made to be alone, but were made to live in a nexus of warm and affectionate relationships.
Speaking of relationships, the feast in Mendoza has given me a very unusual one with a very lovely young lady named Cony. I cannot call her my girlfriend, as she is not, but in being a sweet and loving and affectionate young lady, full of kind words, a gentle touch, and an open heart, she showed me something very important that I needed to learn, and taught me that underneath all of the scars that there is a loving, tender, and even brave heart within me, and that I have the capacity to love and feel loved in return, and that is a gift I greatly treasure, even if I don't really know how to handle it at this point, as I'm still trying to sort it all out. Again, this blessing was not due to my own doing, but rather was a gift from God through a sweet young lady who I hope I always have the chance to chat with.
I must also give some thanks to other friends that I have, as they have patiently listened to me tell my complicated stories, help me figure out what it means, and been generally supportive even in difficult times. A good friend is one who celebrates with those who laugh, and cries with those who mourn, and there has been plenty of both this year to be had. My friends have given me some welcome advice, helped me calm down my rather tense nerves, and given congratulations (and the occasional warning) when necessary, as well as giving many recommendations on books to read, podcasts to listen to, and so on. Without such friends in my life, I would certainly be a lot worse off. Even a kvetchy sort like myself has much to be thankful for, and so do you.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
A Photolog of Mendoza
Considering how much I enjoyed the Feast of Tabernacles this year in Mendoza, and how much my blog could use some more lighthearted and happy posts, I figured that it would be good to show my readers (whomever they are) some of the photos I liked best of my collection, and tell the tales behind them. So, without any further ado, here are my favorite 12 photos of my feast in Mendoza this year:
The first photo, off to the left, is a photo of the Hotel Del Ejercito De Los Andes (in English, that is the Hotel of the Army of the Andes) in Mendoza, Argentina, where I (and the brethren of South America who attended the feast in that location) stayed, and where services and the events for the site were held. While the Americans stayed at a different hotel some miles away, I figured that it would be more fun to spend my time with the local brethren. Interestingly enough, earlier this year there was a fire at this hotel, and many brethren hoped that the feast would be held at a different hotel, but that proved not to be the case, and the rooms in the new part of the hotel were quite nice (I was lucky enough to share one with six other soccer mad young men from Argentina and Chile, and we all had a great time talking with each other.
This next photo to the left is a silly photo of me. While having dinner with my friend Cony (who you will be seeing a lot of in this entry), I was trying to explain what sort of meat people eat in the US (apparently, Chileans do not eat much beef because their country lacks a plains region, being a slender mountainous realm bordering the sea. Unsurprisingly enough, they eat a lot of fish there. Since I did not know the Spanish word for deer, I made a brave attempt at playing charades to explain what a deer was to my dear Chilean friend, and she thought it was so funny looking she took a picture of it. As you can see from the smile on my face, I didn't mind that one bit either.
Speaking of my dear friend Cony, early in the feast, as we were just getting to know each other, she thought it would be a fun idea to take my glasses and wear them. Despite not being able to see very well without my glasses, I was able to take this excellent shot of my funny friend (thanks, no doubt, to the autozoom on my digital camera). I think she even manages to look pretty wearing my glasses, and that is an impressive task. Judging from her smile, it's pretty obvious she's having a good time of herself too, which is a large part of the joy of the feast.
Speaking of my lovely Chilean friend Cony again, this next photo to the left comes from the wedding that occurred during the Feast of Tabernacles this year in Mendoza. I was responsible for translating the ceremony from Spanish to English, where Mr. Langarica (the pastor in charge of the congregations for UCG down in the Southern Cone of South America) gave a lengthy message about how Satan is attempting to destroy society by attacking the institution of marriage. Anyway, Cony was the lucky young lady who caught the bouquet after the wedding, so I took this shot of her with her sweet smile, and avoided teasing her too much about it, as she was somewhat embarassed to have caught the bouquet (as the same traditions apply in South America as apply in the US about prompt marriage).
During the Feast, there was a lot of dancing, and for once I actually enjoyed dancing a lot (in large part because I had a very lovely and friendly person to dance with, which means a lot to me). There was dancing after the wedding, which I did not take any pictures of, but during the second dance of the Feast, the dance for Jovenes y Solteros (that is, young people and singles), I was able to take a picture of my lovely and happy dance partner, smiling as is her habit. Now, it should be noted as well, that part of the reason she was smiling is because I was dressed even more comically than she was, with a bright red wig on that is mercifully not in this photo (though plenty of people managed to take pictures of it). Sometimes it's worth looking a little silly to enjoy time with those you care about.
Besides the dancing among the people at the site, there were also a lot of folk dances held at Mendoza. At least two nights were dedicated mostly to folk dances where the brethren of South America demonstrated their folk traditions to others, and I had the joy of being able to watch my friend Cony (unsurprisingly enough, in the middle of this picture) dance in a few of these folk dances herself with the other young people of South America.
Now, as I mentioned earlier, sometimes it's good to be a little bit silly if one is spending time with friends. I certainly could use being silly and lighthearted a little more often, I think (one of the reasons I enjoyed the feast in Mendoza so much), but my roommate Marcelo obviously is getting into the spirit in this photo to the left, where he is sitting in front of the restroom in our hotel room making sure that only very important people use our bathroom. Since our room was the headquarters of the soccer tournament, our room was quite crowded with people coming and going often, especially early in the morning (as the soccer games started at 7AM most mornings, except for high Holy Days). Needless to say, no one slept very much, as all of us had more important concerns.
Speaking of Marcelo again, I learned a new expression during the feast from my South American friends: 1313, referring to the flirtatious winking in MSN Messenger, commonly used by the young brethren in South America to keep in touch (Facebook is pretty common as well). Here, at a nice steakhouse in Mendoza, Marcelo is attempting to flirt with Robin, a young lady from Virginia. It was refreshing to note that the brethren in South America were warm and affectionate and friendly across all sorts of boundaries that normally serve to divide us and keep us from enjoying each other's company.
Another photo from the night at the steakhouse was this next photo to the left. Here Daniel, the unofficial leader of the young adults in Santiago, Chile, and the organizer of this year's soccer tournament (where the Singles ended up tying the employees of the hotel 3-3 in the final after winning against the Middle Aged All-Stars and the Young Married People), and I are enjoying a fine moment in between eating steak. Daniel himself was a very excellent fellow, very friendly, with a good knowledge of English, and a strong faith. Indeed, he had been disfellowshipped from UCG a few years ago after some rumors had been spread about him and a young lady who is now his fiance, but thankfully the truth was revealed and he was able to come back to church, where his faith and his generous spirit remained intact. He and I had a Bible Study after services on the Last Great Day as well where we talked about the problems of respect for authority that are rampant and what can be done about them. I must say, I have a lot of respect for him, for his generosity of spirit to his brethren, for his joy, and for his strong faith and sense of responsibility for those around him.
For me, one of the biggest aspects of this feast was family. This focus on family took several aspects. One of the aspects was the family of faith. There were at least ten baptisms on the evening of the Last Great Day as the feast drew to a close. On that night before the final services, brethren from many parts of South America were baptized by some of the elders, including Mr. Fred Nance (the fellow in the yellow shirt), who visited with his wife and stepsons from the United States, gave some messages, and served as a fellow translator with me. As the members of South America (except in Santiago) are scattered in small congregations, it is only at the Spring and Fall feasts that any large enough group of them are together with elders where baptisms are possible.
As I mentioned earlier, there was a wedding during the feast in Mendoza, and this is a picture of the bridge and groom enjoying their first slice of wedding cake. The bride came from a rural area in Northern Argentina, near the border with Paraguay, where only her family was in the church. The groom is part of about a couple dozen brethren in the city of Cordoba, roughly in the middle of Argentina. Dating long distance is as hard in South America, where there may only be a couple of singles in each congregation, thought of largely as brothers and sisters, as it is in the United States, so someone will probably be ranting a little less, at least, about this subject.
As is to be expected, family is very important among the brethren in South America. Here, to our left, we have Cony and her family. After services on the Last Great Day I wanted to make sure I had a picture of them all, since I had the chance to meet all of them and enjoy their company during the Feast. Cony's father and mother appear at least acceptable with the affectionate regard Cony and I treated each other, though it is obvious that Cony's little sister Jenny is less than pleased about the fact that her big sister had someone with such an interest in her. Someday, Jenny, you too will understand the joy of someone's company like your sister did. Just not yet.
On the morning after the Last Great Day, it was time for us to depart Mendoza and return back home. However, before we left, I wanted to take one last picture with my lovely new friend. After breakfast, where Cony gave me a photo of herself to treasure in my wallet, Cony's father was generous enough to take this picture of Cony and I in front of the hotel. I know I for one will always remember this feast, and remember the wonderful time I spent with my brethren. Thankfully, Cony and I have been able to keep in touch, as daunting as the distance is between Tampa, Florida and Santiago, Chile. I definitely plan on coming back next year, God willing, and enjoying another fine feast with my brothers and sisters from South America. Salud.
The first photo, off to the left, is a photo of the Hotel Del Ejercito De Los Andes (in English, that is the Hotel of the Army of the Andes) in Mendoza, Argentina, where I (and the brethren of South America who attended the feast in that location) stayed, and where services and the events for the site were held. While the Americans stayed at a different hotel some miles away, I figured that it would be more fun to spend my time with the local brethren. Interestingly enough, earlier this year there was a fire at this hotel, and many brethren hoped that the feast would be held at a different hotel, but that proved not to be the case, and the rooms in the new part of the hotel were quite nice (I was lucky enough to share one with six other soccer mad young men from Argentina and Chile, and we all had a great time talking with each other.
This next photo to the left is a silly photo of me. While having dinner with my friend Cony (who you will be seeing a lot of in this entry), I was trying to explain what sort of meat people eat in the US (apparently, Chileans do not eat much beef because their country lacks a plains region, being a slender mountainous realm bordering the sea. Unsurprisingly enough, they eat a lot of fish there. Since I did not know the Spanish word for deer, I made a brave attempt at playing charades to explain what a deer was to my dear Chilean friend, and she thought it was so funny looking she took a picture of it. As you can see from the smile on my face, I didn't mind that one bit either.
Speaking of my dear friend Cony, early in the feast, as we were just getting to know each other, she thought it would be a fun idea to take my glasses and wear them. Despite not being able to see very well without my glasses, I was able to take this excellent shot of my funny friend (thanks, no doubt, to the autozoom on my digital camera). I think she even manages to look pretty wearing my glasses, and that is an impressive task. Judging from her smile, it's pretty obvious she's having a good time of herself too, which is a large part of the joy of the feast.
Speaking of my lovely Chilean friend Cony again, this next photo to the left comes from the wedding that occurred during the Feast of Tabernacles this year in Mendoza. I was responsible for translating the ceremony from Spanish to English, where Mr. Langarica (the pastor in charge of the congregations for UCG down in the Southern Cone of South America) gave a lengthy message about how Satan is attempting to destroy society by attacking the institution of marriage. Anyway, Cony was the lucky young lady who caught the bouquet after the wedding, so I took this shot of her with her sweet smile, and avoided teasing her too much about it, as she was somewhat embarassed to have caught the bouquet (as the same traditions apply in South America as apply in the US about prompt marriage).
During the Feast, there was a lot of dancing, and for once I actually enjoyed dancing a lot (in large part because I had a very lovely and friendly person to dance with, which means a lot to me). There was dancing after the wedding, which I did not take any pictures of, but during the second dance of the Feast, the dance for Jovenes y Solteros (that is, young people and singles), I was able to take a picture of my lovely and happy dance partner, smiling as is her habit. Now, it should be noted as well, that part of the reason she was smiling is because I was dressed even more comically than she was, with a bright red wig on that is mercifully not in this photo (though plenty of people managed to take pictures of it). Sometimes it's worth looking a little silly to enjoy time with those you care about.
Besides the dancing among the people at the site, there were also a lot of folk dances held at Mendoza. At least two nights were dedicated mostly to folk dances where the brethren of South America demonstrated their folk traditions to others, and I had the joy of being able to watch my friend Cony (unsurprisingly enough, in the middle of this picture) dance in a few of these folk dances herself with the other young people of South America.
Now, as I mentioned earlier, sometimes it's good to be a little bit silly if one is spending time with friends. I certainly could use being silly and lighthearted a little more often, I think (one of the reasons I enjoyed the feast in Mendoza so much), but my roommate Marcelo obviously is getting into the spirit in this photo to the left, where he is sitting in front of the restroom in our hotel room making sure that only very important people use our bathroom. Since our room was the headquarters of the soccer tournament, our room was quite crowded with people coming and going often, especially early in the morning (as the soccer games started at 7AM most mornings, except for high Holy Days). Needless to say, no one slept very much, as all of us had more important concerns.
Speaking of Marcelo again, I learned a new expression during the feast from my South American friends: 1313, referring to the flirtatious winking in MSN Messenger, commonly used by the young brethren in South America to keep in touch (Facebook is pretty common as well). Here, at a nice steakhouse in Mendoza, Marcelo is attempting to flirt with Robin, a young lady from Virginia. It was refreshing to note that the brethren in South America were warm and affectionate and friendly across all sorts of boundaries that normally serve to divide us and keep us from enjoying each other's company.
Another photo from the night at the steakhouse was this next photo to the left. Here Daniel, the unofficial leader of the young adults in Santiago, Chile, and the organizer of this year's soccer tournament (where the Singles ended up tying the employees of the hotel 3-3 in the final after winning against the Middle Aged All-Stars and the Young Married People), and I are enjoying a fine moment in between eating steak. Daniel himself was a very excellent fellow, very friendly, with a good knowledge of English, and a strong faith. Indeed, he had been disfellowshipped from UCG a few years ago after some rumors had been spread about him and a young lady who is now his fiance, but thankfully the truth was revealed and he was able to come back to church, where his faith and his generous spirit remained intact. He and I had a Bible Study after services on the Last Great Day as well where we talked about the problems of respect for authority that are rampant and what can be done about them. I must say, I have a lot of respect for him, for his generosity of spirit to his brethren, for his joy, and for his strong faith and sense of responsibility for those around him.
For me, one of the biggest aspects of this feast was family. This focus on family took several aspects. One of the aspects was the family of faith. There were at least ten baptisms on the evening of the Last Great Day as the feast drew to a close. On that night before the final services, brethren from many parts of South America were baptized by some of the elders, including Mr. Fred Nance (the fellow in the yellow shirt), who visited with his wife and stepsons from the United States, gave some messages, and served as a fellow translator with me. As the members of South America (except in Santiago) are scattered in small congregations, it is only at the Spring and Fall feasts that any large enough group of them are together with elders where baptisms are possible.
As I mentioned earlier, there was a wedding during the feast in Mendoza, and this is a picture of the bridge and groom enjoying their first slice of wedding cake. The bride came from a rural area in Northern Argentina, near the border with Paraguay, where only her family was in the church. The groom is part of about a couple dozen brethren in the city of Cordoba, roughly in the middle of Argentina. Dating long distance is as hard in South America, where there may only be a couple of singles in each congregation, thought of largely as brothers and sisters, as it is in the United States, so someone will probably be ranting a little less, at least, about this subject.
As is to be expected, family is very important among the brethren in South America. Here, to our left, we have Cony and her family. After services on the Last Great Day I wanted to make sure I had a picture of them all, since I had the chance to meet all of them and enjoy their company during the Feast. Cony's father and mother appear at least acceptable with the affectionate regard Cony and I treated each other, though it is obvious that Cony's little sister Jenny is less than pleased about the fact that her big sister had someone with such an interest in her. Someday, Jenny, you too will understand the joy of someone's company like your sister did. Just not yet.
On the morning after the Last Great Day, it was time for us to depart Mendoza and return back home. However, before we left, I wanted to take one last picture with my lovely new friend. After breakfast, where Cony gave me a photo of herself to treasure in my wallet, Cony's father was generous enough to take this picture of Cony and I in front of the hotel. I know I for one will always remember this feast, and remember the wonderful time I spent with my brethren. Thankfully, Cony and I have been able to keep in touch, as daunting as the distance is between Tampa, Florida and Santiago, Chile. I definitely plan on coming back next year, God willing, and enjoying another fine feast with my brothers and sisters from South America. Salud.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
Such Is Life In A Fallen World
Today is Election Day in the United States, and given the fact that the Feast of Tabernacles has recently ended as well (a most wonderful Feast, I might add, in many ways), my thoughts are on the tension that exists in the Christian between the world that is and the world to come, between our earthly citizenship and in our citizenship in the Jerusalem that is above. These tensions are not new, but have existed as long as godly believers have dwelt in ungodly realms, from the travails of Daniel the prophet in corrupt Babylon to the difficulties of early Christians in occupied Judea under Roman rule (and even more so for Paul, who was himself a Roman citizen and thus acutely aware of the tensions of citizenship above and below). Since these problems are not new, they are not likely to go away no matter what I or anyone else may say about them, but at least facing these problems may benefit us by forcing our attention on the dilemmas we struggle with.
It is the belief of UCG (and many other pietistic religious organizations as well), its ministry, and the majority of its members, that voting is a sign that one has become a part of the fallen world of corrupt politics, with the wars and division, the lying and deception that are regretfully part of the political process. This disparagement of politics is often accompanied by a lack of self-knowledge about how ubiquitous politics is in our own congregations and organizations, partly because we are human and still struggle (hopefully) with our human lusts for power and security and glory, and partly because power exists wherever two or three (or more) are gathered for any purpose, and that the allotment of power itself reflects a political system (whether one likes it or not), regardless of how that power is gained or used. The disparagement of politics as nasty and unclean business which no Christian can or should engage in masks the fact that we ourselves are also political, even despite our own sincere and heartfelt intentions not to be political in the mean-spirited, malicious, false, and base way we see around us.
The way things are are not the way things ought to be, in politics or in many other ways. Nonetheless, we live in a fallen world where our beliefs are often in tension with each other because of the way in which sin has spread throughout our world. We ourselves struggle (sometimes successfully, and sometimes not) with our own sinful desires, and struggle to counteract the impact of sin in our relationships with other people, as well as the families we are born or marry into, the companies we own or work for, the schools we attend or send our children to, the churches we support and attend, and the nations of which we are citizens. Even though we are also citizens of that Jerusalem above (something we should never forget or minimize), we are also in a nexus of relationships and entanglements here below simply by being here, without our wish or choice in the matter, and these relationships carry with them sometimes burdensome and unpleasant responsibilities that lead to dilemmas in how we can fulfill our obligations here and above at the same time.
There are no doubt some people who find comfort in either extreme--that we should take no responsibility here and solely be pious and wait and hope for the Kingdom of God (a choice that often makes life on earth hell for ourselves and others because politics loses the influence of its righteous citizenry and becomes a playpen for knaves and scoundrels of the worst sort who seek to prey on the basest motives of their citizenry), or that there is no danger of even serious involvement in politics as they are. As can be expected, though, I take no comfort in either extreme but feel fully the tension between both pulls, the pulls of my responsibility to my fellow citizens here and to my responsibilities to my citizenship above. (My studies in engineering have led me to understand and lament that tension, the state of being pulled in two directions at the same time, is the natural state of my existence, for better or for worse).
It is in light of that tension that I long for the Jerusalem that is above, without forgetting that I have not yet reached that blessed city free of divided loyalties and quibbles about the lesser of two evils and the way in which my own life falls so pitifully short of that noble standard which I most sincerely believe, and it is in light of the feast that just ended that I would like to turn as I close this particular line of thought. This past feast I spent ten days in the city of Mendoza, Argentina with some of the most loving and affectionate brethren I have ever met, who showered upon this outgoing stranger more love and concern that I quite knew how to handle. We ate and chatted, hugged and kissed on the cheek, sang and danced without concern for borders, rejoicing in our common citizenship above. Since I am able to speak and understand Spanish, there was no distance of language between us either, as we were able to communicate with each other our common sentiment of ourselves as brothers and sisters, no matter how far apart we may reside. This love and concern, this affectionate regard, I believe will endure into the time when we will dwell in the Jerusalem above as fellow citizens of that heavenly kingdom.
And when those days ended, we had to return (mournfully, in the case of some of us, as loved ones now became far away) to the fallen world we had temporarily left behind us. I would like to hope that I and others were better people for having spent that time together, as short as it is, but it is only a foretaste of what is to come. May we live to see the day when we must no longer struggle with how to live in a fallen world, but can enjoy life in a new heaven and new earth, without the malign influence of sin and corruption, of death and loss. And may that vision of a better life that we can experience only fleetingly give us strength to endure what we must until that bright and glorious day yet to come.
It is the belief of UCG (and many other pietistic religious organizations as well), its ministry, and the majority of its members, that voting is a sign that one has become a part of the fallen world of corrupt politics, with the wars and division, the lying and deception that are regretfully part of the political process. This disparagement of politics is often accompanied by a lack of self-knowledge about how ubiquitous politics is in our own congregations and organizations, partly because we are human and still struggle (hopefully) with our human lusts for power and security and glory, and partly because power exists wherever two or three (or more) are gathered for any purpose, and that the allotment of power itself reflects a political system (whether one likes it or not), regardless of how that power is gained or used. The disparagement of politics as nasty and unclean business which no Christian can or should engage in masks the fact that we ourselves are also political, even despite our own sincere and heartfelt intentions not to be political in the mean-spirited, malicious, false, and base way we see around us.
The way things are are not the way things ought to be, in politics or in many other ways. Nonetheless, we live in a fallen world where our beliefs are often in tension with each other because of the way in which sin has spread throughout our world. We ourselves struggle (sometimes successfully, and sometimes not) with our own sinful desires, and struggle to counteract the impact of sin in our relationships with other people, as well as the families we are born or marry into, the companies we own or work for, the schools we attend or send our children to, the churches we support and attend, and the nations of which we are citizens. Even though we are also citizens of that Jerusalem above (something we should never forget or minimize), we are also in a nexus of relationships and entanglements here below simply by being here, without our wish or choice in the matter, and these relationships carry with them sometimes burdensome and unpleasant responsibilities that lead to dilemmas in how we can fulfill our obligations here and above at the same time.
There are no doubt some people who find comfort in either extreme--that we should take no responsibility here and solely be pious and wait and hope for the Kingdom of God (a choice that often makes life on earth hell for ourselves and others because politics loses the influence of its righteous citizenry and becomes a playpen for knaves and scoundrels of the worst sort who seek to prey on the basest motives of their citizenry), or that there is no danger of even serious involvement in politics as they are. As can be expected, though, I take no comfort in either extreme but feel fully the tension between both pulls, the pulls of my responsibility to my fellow citizens here and to my responsibilities to my citizenship above. (My studies in engineering have led me to understand and lament that tension, the state of being pulled in two directions at the same time, is the natural state of my existence, for better or for worse).
It is in light of that tension that I long for the Jerusalem that is above, without forgetting that I have not yet reached that blessed city free of divided loyalties and quibbles about the lesser of two evils and the way in which my own life falls so pitifully short of that noble standard which I most sincerely believe, and it is in light of the feast that just ended that I would like to turn as I close this particular line of thought. This past feast I spent ten days in the city of Mendoza, Argentina with some of the most loving and affectionate brethren I have ever met, who showered upon this outgoing stranger more love and concern that I quite knew how to handle. We ate and chatted, hugged and kissed on the cheek, sang and danced without concern for borders, rejoicing in our common citizenship above. Since I am able to speak and understand Spanish, there was no distance of language between us either, as we were able to communicate with each other our common sentiment of ourselves as brothers and sisters, no matter how far apart we may reside. This love and concern, this affectionate regard, I believe will endure into the time when we will dwell in the Jerusalem above as fellow citizens of that heavenly kingdom.
And when those days ended, we had to return (mournfully, in the case of some of us, as loved ones now became far away) to the fallen world we had temporarily left behind us. I would like to hope that I and others were better people for having spent that time together, as short as it is, but it is only a foretaste of what is to come. May we live to see the day when we must no longer struggle with how to live in a fallen world, but can enjoy life in a new heaven and new earth, without the malign influence of sin and corruption, of death and loss. And may that vision of a better life that we can experience only fleetingly give us strength to endure what we must until that bright and glorious day yet to come.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
My Place In The Sun
The psychoanalytic psychologist Erik Erikson famously theorized that life was but a series of crises in which the successful resolution of one crisis sets up the terms of the next crisis, and gives one the necessary tools in order to solve that crisis without providing the exact solution. In a sense, this is not too far different from the biblical perspective that our Christian walk is to test us in different areas, progressing as we deal with ever more serious vices and problems in our character and seek to master ever more challenging virtues. Some of our problems are universal--there is fairly wide consensus about nearly universal needs, very common desires, and certain struggles that resonate across time and across cultures. Other problems and difficulties and virtues are very unusual, in that few people know they exist, and even fewer seek to master them. We, as human beings, are in tension between the universal that unites us with others and the particular that makes us all unique and in some ways alone. Perhaps, as we are conscious and self-conscious beings, it can be no other way.
Sometime in late 2004, I became aware that something was amiss in my life, and since then I have been in what could be termed the crisis of early adulthood, trying to find one's place in the world. I was finishing my first degree, in Civil (Structural) Engineering, and had just finished my studies at the Ambassador Bible Center, both of which brought me in contact with a larger world I still feel somewhat uncomfortable with. For one, I became aware that the barriers to advancement in my chosen field(s) were quite immense. To take engineering as an example, I had serious difficulty finding an engineering job without passing the EIT/FE exam (which takes about a day, and which I did in Fall of 2005). After this one must work four years become one is eligible to become a Professional Engineer, at which point one is a real engineer, and must keep up all manner of Continuing Education Units and such in order to maintain one's position. There was always some new skill that needed to be mastered, some aspect of self-promotion (a skill I must admit I have not mastered) I needed to gain, something I was lacking in order to meet my ambitions.
I looked around me, and found that I was not alone in this struggle, but that my entire generation was being unfairly maligned for desiring a place in the sun that the generations before us had taken for granted and had denied us, leaving us to struggle in a hostile world that they had made, while they mocked us in our efforts, chastised us for our student debt and our desire for jobs that had good income and opportunities for advancement (both of which I have found difficult in my own life) mocked, as if we were not worthy of great things because we had not paid an ever-increasing and unreasonable amount of dues, all while the price of paying these dues increased and the reward for paying them decreased.
My struggle to relate to that world around me of entrenched power figures who were somewhat ignorant of my need for advancement, who wished to increase the burdens upon me without increasing the reward for bearing those burdens, and my resistance to that sort of treatment, has continued now for several years, and has included such diverse fields of conflict as my family, my workplace, and my congregation. To some extent the problem may be due to perception, but perception becomes reality, and misunderstandings form the basis of long and ugly conflicts. This is especially tragic in those cases where a simple and honest communication at the beginning may have avoided a lot of grief and suffering and anger on all sides. In any case, I have no particular ambitions to rule harshly over others, but my ambitions at any rate have been viewed by others as sometimes threatening to their own position at least, and that is not always an unfair judgment.
Moreover, I do not know how this particular crisis is to end, or when. My family has been largely a lead weigh tied around my ankle in this particular climb out of the darkness into the harsh light of day, instead of rope to help with the climb. The death of my father in early 2006 gave me a greater (if unwelcome) understanding of the gravity of the struggle I faced, being about far more than mere ambition, but even mere survival. The death of my grandmother in 2007 let me know that certain members of my family were extremely unscrupulous in how they sought their own material ambition, and the behavior of other family members has but continued this harsh judgment. The failure of my family to be more than a week reed in my times of grave trouble have had their mirrors in other struggles, such as the difficulty to find strong romantic relationships (intimacy has always been a difficult matter for me, largely because I tend to fear it even more than I long for it, most of the time at least). Seeing the mountain one has to climb is not appealing when one climbs alone without a detailed map to go by.
Perhaps, though, this struggle has been a good thing. For one, it has caused me to be much more compassionate to others, even if it has sharpened by deep sense of sarcasm at the deeply corrupt world all around me. Whether this is a good thing or not, only time can tell. Whether I will learn some patience, that most elusive and difficult of virtues for me, or maybe even learn to be a little less thin-skinned and prickly about what is going on around me remains to be seen. I have not finished climbing the mountain, so I do not see what summits remain to be reached when I finish this one. Perhaps this is but a small peak in the Appalachians, which I must master before attempting the Rockies, to say the least of the Alps or the Andes or Everest. That remains to be seen as well.
Sometime in late 2004, I became aware that something was amiss in my life, and since then I have been in what could be termed the crisis of early adulthood, trying to find one's place in the world. I was finishing my first degree, in Civil (Structural) Engineering, and had just finished my studies at the Ambassador Bible Center, both of which brought me in contact with a larger world I still feel somewhat uncomfortable with. For one, I became aware that the barriers to advancement in my chosen field(s) were quite immense. To take engineering as an example, I had serious difficulty finding an engineering job without passing the EIT/FE exam (which takes about a day, and which I did in Fall of 2005). After this one must work four years become one is eligible to become a Professional Engineer, at which point one is a real engineer, and must keep up all manner of Continuing Education Units and such in order to maintain one's position. There was always some new skill that needed to be mastered, some aspect of self-promotion (a skill I must admit I have not mastered) I needed to gain, something I was lacking in order to meet my ambitions.
I looked around me, and found that I was not alone in this struggle, but that my entire generation was being unfairly maligned for desiring a place in the sun that the generations before us had taken for granted and had denied us, leaving us to struggle in a hostile world that they had made, while they mocked us in our efforts, chastised us for our student debt and our desire for jobs that had good income and opportunities for advancement (both of which I have found difficult in my own life) mocked, as if we were not worthy of great things because we had not paid an ever-increasing and unreasonable amount of dues, all while the price of paying these dues increased and the reward for paying them decreased.
My struggle to relate to that world around me of entrenched power figures who were somewhat ignorant of my need for advancement, who wished to increase the burdens upon me without increasing the reward for bearing those burdens, and my resistance to that sort of treatment, has continued now for several years, and has included such diverse fields of conflict as my family, my workplace, and my congregation. To some extent the problem may be due to perception, but perception becomes reality, and misunderstandings form the basis of long and ugly conflicts. This is especially tragic in those cases where a simple and honest communication at the beginning may have avoided a lot of grief and suffering and anger on all sides. In any case, I have no particular ambitions to rule harshly over others, but my ambitions at any rate have been viewed by others as sometimes threatening to their own position at least, and that is not always an unfair judgment.
Moreover, I do not know how this particular crisis is to end, or when. My family has been largely a lead weigh tied around my ankle in this particular climb out of the darkness into the harsh light of day, instead of rope to help with the climb. The death of my father in early 2006 gave me a greater (if unwelcome) understanding of the gravity of the struggle I faced, being about far more than mere ambition, but even mere survival. The death of my grandmother in 2007 let me know that certain members of my family were extremely unscrupulous in how they sought their own material ambition, and the behavior of other family members has but continued this harsh judgment. The failure of my family to be more than a week reed in my times of grave trouble have had their mirrors in other struggles, such as the difficulty to find strong romantic relationships (intimacy has always been a difficult matter for me, largely because I tend to fear it even more than I long for it, most of the time at least). Seeing the mountain one has to climb is not appealing when one climbs alone without a detailed map to go by.
Perhaps, though, this struggle has been a good thing. For one, it has caused me to be much more compassionate to others, even if it has sharpened by deep sense of sarcasm at the deeply corrupt world all around me. Whether this is a good thing or not, only time can tell. Whether I will learn some patience, that most elusive and difficult of virtues for me, or maybe even learn to be a little less thin-skinned and prickly about what is going on around me remains to be seen. I have not finished climbing the mountain, so I do not see what summits remain to be reached when I finish this one. Perhaps this is but a small peak in the Appalachians, which I must master before attempting the Rockies, to say the least of the Alps or the Andes or Everest. That remains to be seen as well.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
The Postmillennial Problem
I do not normally delve into discussions of biblical prophecy, partly because I find the claims in most (if not all) cases far outweigh the modest biblical evidence presented in support. However, in this entry I will make an exception, though to be honest this is not a comment about biblical prophecy itself as much as it is a comment about the difficulties involved with rigid methodological commitments. I am a fond reader of the American Vision blogs by a fellow named Gary DeMar and his associates, but one aspect of their analysis which irritates me is the way in which their firm commitment to postmillennialism forces them into a preterist view of prophecy that neglects the firm and consistent scriptural record. Since this is a blog, and not a weighty tome of several hundred pages (which would be necessary to analyze the case for different views of biblical prophecy), the analysis will be by necessity somewhat more superficial than I would prefer.
There are basically four ways to view biblical prophecy (especially the book of Revelation, but the same problem is true for the prophecies of Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and others): preterism, historicism, futurism, and spiritualism. The preterest takes prophecy as applying to the time in which the prophecy was written. For example, Jeremiah would apply to the Babylonian captivity of Judah, Haggai would apply to the rebuidling of the second temple around 520 BC, and Revelation would apply to the first century church. This is the view taken by Gary Demar and many who ascribe to the postmillennialist position (for reasons that will become more clear below). Historicists see prophecy as applying in stages throughout human history. This view, with regards to Revelation 2 and 3 (perhaps the most notable example of this strain of prophetic view) would ascribe various eras in the NT church according to the letters to the seven churches, and some have even (with considerable excellence) used this view with regards to the OT as well. Futurists see prophecy as primarily about the end-times (which are usually just around the corner in their view). Spiritualists see prophecy as involving different believers or different types of believers in any time, and make no historical commitment about the fulfillment of various scriptures. For example, a spiritualist would see the seven letters of Revelation 2 and 3 as referring to different types of believers.
Now, I am of the belief that the Bible is big enough for all of these views to be true. To use Revelation as an example, I believe John the Apostle was writing to contemporary believers, to eras of the OT and NT spanning thousands of years of human history, to faithful in the end time, as well as to individual believers, congregations, and even religious organizations as a whole whose spiritual profiles match those of one church or another. To view only one view as true, and to view evidence bolstering one particular perspective as meaning the disproving and refutation of another perspective is to engage in bad-logic, a false dilemma of either/or when both/and is the correct and proper answer. The Bible was written for people in a specific time and place, with certain historical and social knowledge and in a form designed to reach people in a specific time (this accounts for the fact that the NT Epistles are written in the general form of first century letters, and why the Ten Commandments are organized like a Hittite suzereignity-vassal treaty, as well as why the Psalms often resemble Ugaritic hymns minus the pagan trappings, why the Proverbs resemble Egyptian wisdom writing, and so on). This does not, however, diminish the equally important fact that the Bible was written for people of all times and places as a revelation to mankind so that we can orient our lives according to the will of God. The laws of God are eternally applicable (though in ways we may not always recognize) and reflect the unchanging and unchangable character of our Creator God. We neglect these laws (however big or small, however famous or obscure) at our peril. Indeed, we may honestly through our hands up in the air and wonder how on earth we are supposed to obey some laws (say, for example, the law about tassels), even as we recognize that God had a point with the law that remains valid today, even as we struggle to understand what that point was.
For the most part, Gary Demar and his associates understand this, as they are members of the Theonomic movement, which posits that a godly society must live under God's laws (all of them, even the civil laws) and not rely on God's grace to rid ourselves of the requirements of obedience. To this end, I would support them. From what I understand of the Theonomy movement (which is admittedly not as much as I'd like to), I agree with their aims and approach, and find them similar if not identical to the thoughts of Ron Dart in his Law & Covenant book, which I find to be an excellent and authoritative examination of the applicability of covenants to our time. However, the commitment to postmillennialism is a serious problem, as it involves a substantial neglect of scripture. It should also be noted that a firm commitment to premillennialism (at least in most of its forms) shares a similar neglect of scripture that has equally serious consequences, and both "solutions" are flip sides of the same coin.
Postmillennialism posits that Christ will return after a millennium established by mankind through accordance with God's laws that overturns the consequences of the fall of man in Eden. In this view, righteousness will spread throughout society ever-more progressively until the world is so filled with obedience to God's law that sin is vanquished and mankind will live in peace and harmony and then Christ returns to establish his kingdom on earth. This appeals to Gary Demar (and others of like mind, especially among Catholic scholars in political science, where I first became familiar with this view, like Harry Jaffa) who consider their work to educate mankind on their proper obedience to God, and the role of the United States as bringing liberty to a world enslaved by tradition, and the role of the Catholic Church (or Christianity in general) as the church victorious becoming more active and more powerful as time goes on in an essentially millennial and extremely optimistic light. It is this optimism, incidentally, that allows them to remain active and avoid despairing in a world that looks pretty dark and depressing (and this optimism is its most righteous and most redeeming feature).
Pre-millennialism, by contrast, is extremely pessimistic about the world's future, and frequently believes that things are so bad in the world today that Christ's return is imminent because mankind is on the verge of absolute ruin. Pre-millennialists often can be found trying to calculate the return of Jesus Christ (against the commands of Jesus Christ, who said 'no man shall no the day or the hour' of his return, something often neglected by would be prophets), and can often be found making various claims about raptures and places of safety based on rather slim biblical evidence and a very healthy dose of speculation that may or may not come to pass. In general, pre-millennialism often discourages any kind of action that could postpone the return of Chist, including any meaningful effort to arrest our civilization's and our nation's alarming slide to ruin and perdition. Indeed, pre-millennialism often itself serves as a recipe for passivity and the misguided belief that God will do everything and so mankind needs to do nothing, in contrast to the equally deluded belief by post-millennialists that mankind's efforts (admittedly of God-led and Holy Spirit-endowed people) are sufficient to bring about the Millennial paradise on earth.
I happen to be a pre-millennialist myself, though not of a passive strain, and I find there to be a great tension between my belief that mankind is on the fast train to hell in a handbasket as well as my belief that I must do whatever is in my (very) limited power to arrest that trend. Indeed, I find this tension to be present quite frequently in the Bible. I think of Amos, for example, sent to preach about Israel's destruction and the social injustices (mirrored, intriguingly enough, in our own society) present in a people of superficial religious and 'spiritual' values but insufficiently deep commitment to God's law and its application in their lives and society (a situation alarmingly like that in the USA at present). I think of Jeremiah, called to preach to a hostile and unwelcoming and unrepenant society trusting in foreign alliances and full of moral decay and a government that was set on the separation of church and state (at least by eliminating religious leaders who criticized the politics of the day). I think of John, persecuted and exiled by the Roman government of his time for refusing to worship the emperor as a god and instead preaching that all men are accountable to God (something our political and religious and business leaders seem to forget sometimes). Their call was to action, and to involvement, even though their mission was unsuccessful. They did not passively wait for God to deliver them in a rapture, and neither did they believe that their preaching would lead to a national revival, as much as they would have liked that, to be sure. Instead, they avoided either extreme and felt the tension that seems to be essential for development of godly character, tension that would destroy us if not for the protection and mercy of God Himself.
That view, surprisingly enough, puts me in the rather delicate and strange position of agreeing with the actions of those who, like those at American Vision and other organizations, seek to write books and engage people in recognizing our nation's (and indeed, Christianity's) lost virtues while avoiding the passive copouts like rapture or dispensationalism, even while I disagree with their approach and consider their prophetic knowledge to be extremely lacking on account of their firm (and unwarrented) commitment to a preterist view of scripture (to the exclusion of other views) and a post-millenialist prophetic framework that denies the whole of biblical history (where calamity purges the unrighteous, where human institutions crumble under the weight of human fraility and Satanic corruption, and where God delivers a righteous and small remnant to start again). We will see, in the end, who is right.
There are basically four ways to view biblical prophecy (especially the book of Revelation, but the same problem is true for the prophecies of Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and others): preterism, historicism, futurism, and spiritualism. The preterest takes prophecy as applying to the time in which the prophecy was written. For example, Jeremiah would apply to the Babylonian captivity of Judah, Haggai would apply to the rebuidling of the second temple around 520 BC, and Revelation would apply to the first century church. This is the view taken by Gary Demar and many who ascribe to the postmillennialist position (for reasons that will become more clear below). Historicists see prophecy as applying in stages throughout human history. This view, with regards to Revelation 2 and 3 (perhaps the most notable example of this strain of prophetic view) would ascribe various eras in the NT church according to the letters to the seven churches, and some have even (with considerable excellence) used this view with regards to the OT as well. Futurists see prophecy as primarily about the end-times (which are usually just around the corner in their view). Spiritualists see prophecy as involving different believers or different types of believers in any time, and make no historical commitment about the fulfillment of various scriptures. For example, a spiritualist would see the seven letters of Revelation 2 and 3 as referring to different types of believers.
Now, I am of the belief that the Bible is big enough for all of these views to be true. To use Revelation as an example, I believe John the Apostle was writing to contemporary believers, to eras of the OT and NT spanning thousands of years of human history, to faithful in the end time, as well as to individual believers, congregations, and even religious organizations as a whole whose spiritual profiles match those of one church or another. To view only one view as true, and to view evidence bolstering one particular perspective as meaning the disproving and refutation of another perspective is to engage in bad-logic, a false dilemma of either/or when both/and is the correct and proper answer. The Bible was written for people in a specific time and place, with certain historical and social knowledge and in a form designed to reach people in a specific time (this accounts for the fact that the NT Epistles are written in the general form of first century letters, and why the Ten Commandments are organized like a Hittite suzereignity-vassal treaty, as well as why the Psalms often resemble Ugaritic hymns minus the pagan trappings, why the Proverbs resemble Egyptian wisdom writing, and so on). This does not, however, diminish the equally important fact that the Bible was written for people of all times and places as a revelation to mankind so that we can orient our lives according to the will of God. The laws of God are eternally applicable (though in ways we may not always recognize) and reflect the unchanging and unchangable character of our Creator God. We neglect these laws (however big or small, however famous or obscure) at our peril. Indeed, we may honestly through our hands up in the air and wonder how on earth we are supposed to obey some laws (say, for example, the law about tassels), even as we recognize that God had a point with the law that remains valid today, even as we struggle to understand what that point was.
For the most part, Gary Demar and his associates understand this, as they are members of the Theonomic movement, which posits that a godly society must live under God's laws (all of them, even the civil laws) and not rely on God's grace to rid ourselves of the requirements of obedience. To this end, I would support them. From what I understand of the Theonomy movement (which is admittedly not as much as I'd like to), I agree with their aims and approach, and find them similar if not identical to the thoughts of Ron Dart in his Law & Covenant book, which I find to be an excellent and authoritative examination of the applicability of covenants to our time. However, the commitment to postmillennialism is a serious problem, as it involves a substantial neglect of scripture. It should also be noted that a firm commitment to premillennialism (at least in most of its forms) shares a similar neglect of scripture that has equally serious consequences, and both "solutions" are flip sides of the same coin.
Postmillennialism posits that Christ will return after a millennium established by mankind through accordance with God's laws that overturns the consequences of the fall of man in Eden. In this view, righteousness will spread throughout society ever-more progressively until the world is so filled with obedience to God's law that sin is vanquished and mankind will live in peace and harmony and then Christ returns to establish his kingdom on earth. This appeals to Gary Demar (and others of like mind, especially among Catholic scholars in political science, where I first became familiar with this view, like Harry Jaffa) who consider their work to educate mankind on their proper obedience to God, and the role of the United States as bringing liberty to a world enslaved by tradition, and the role of the Catholic Church (or Christianity in general) as the church victorious becoming more active and more powerful as time goes on in an essentially millennial and extremely optimistic light. It is this optimism, incidentally, that allows them to remain active and avoid despairing in a world that looks pretty dark and depressing (and this optimism is its most righteous and most redeeming feature).
Pre-millennialism, by contrast, is extremely pessimistic about the world's future, and frequently believes that things are so bad in the world today that Christ's return is imminent because mankind is on the verge of absolute ruin. Pre-millennialists often can be found trying to calculate the return of Jesus Christ (against the commands of Jesus Christ, who said 'no man shall no the day or the hour' of his return, something often neglected by would be prophets), and can often be found making various claims about raptures and places of safety based on rather slim biblical evidence and a very healthy dose of speculation that may or may not come to pass. In general, pre-millennialism often discourages any kind of action that could postpone the return of Chist, including any meaningful effort to arrest our civilization's and our nation's alarming slide to ruin and perdition. Indeed, pre-millennialism often itself serves as a recipe for passivity and the misguided belief that God will do everything and so mankind needs to do nothing, in contrast to the equally deluded belief by post-millennialists that mankind's efforts (admittedly of God-led and Holy Spirit-endowed people) are sufficient to bring about the Millennial paradise on earth.
I happen to be a pre-millennialist myself, though not of a passive strain, and I find there to be a great tension between my belief that mankind is on the fast train to hell in a handbasket as well as my belief that I must do whatever is in my (very) limited power to arrest that trend. Indeed, I find this tension to be present quite frequently in the Bible. I think of Amos, for example, sent to preach about Israel's destruction and the social injustices (mirrored, intriguingly enough, in our own society) present in a people of superficial religious and 'spiritual' values but insufficiently deep commitment to God's law and its application in their lives and society (a situation alarmingly like that in the USA at present). I think of Jeremiah, called to preach to a hostile and unwelcoming and unrepenant society trusting in foreign alliances and full of moral decay and a government that was set on the separation of church and state (at least by eliminating religious leaders who criticized the politics of the day). I think of John, persecuted and exiled by the Roman government of his time for refusing to worship the emperor as a god and instead preaching that all men are accountable to God (something our political and religious and business leaders seem to forget sometimes). Their call was to action, and to involvement, even though their mission was unsuccessful. They did not passively wait for God to deliver them in a rapture, and neither did they believe that their preaching would lead to a national revival, as much as they would have liked that, to be sure. Instead, they avoided either extreme and felt the tension that seems to be essential for development of godly character, tension that would destroy us if not for the protection and mercy of God Himself.
That view, surprisingly enough, puts me in the rather delicate and strange position of agreeing with the actions of those who, like those at American Vision and other organizations, seek to write books and engage people in recognizing our nation's (and indeed, Christianity's) lost virtues while avoiding the passive copouts like rapture or dispensationalism, even while I disagree with their approach and consider their prophetic knowledge to be extremely lacking on account of their firm (and unwarrented) commitment to a preterist view of scripture (to the exclusion of other views) and a post-millenialist prophetic framework that denies the whole of biblical history (where calamity purges the unrighteous, where human institutions crumble under the weight of human fraility and Satanic corruption, and where God delivers a righteous and small remnant to start again). We will see, in the end, who is right.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
On Asabiya
Recently, I read an extremely insightful book by Peter Turchin, named "War and Peace and War," which examines the cycles of imperial nations. This book seeks to examine what it is that makes empires rise (and fall), and does so in an exemplary fashion. In reading the book, I could not help but reflect upon my own dislikes of the center and my love of the periphery in the cultures I inhabit, and this book deals with those issues as well. The word asabiya itself comes from the pivotal work on Magreb (that would be North African) political cycles by the historian Ibn Kahldun. Asabiya, in English, roughly translates to "social capital," or the sum total of social forces holding a society and its institutions (political, social, familial) together.
Empires, apparently without exception, come from those frontier regions on the edge of what are termed "metaethnic fault lines." The situation of bordering entirely alien civilizations causes an extremely tight "us-against-them" mentality that leads to high levels of social cohesion, allowing large scale businesses and socieities to develop. The same may be true in religious groups as well, and is a subject worthy of further personal study in that regard (For example, can the Church of God and the wider Sabbatarian and Messianic movements be considered on the meta-religious fault line of Christianity, and if so, does that mean that right now we are on the downward slide of an asabiya cycle? More on that later.). Asabiya is apparently acquired through that survival instinct that forces social conflict to be submerged in the face of a grave and common threat where high levels of egalitarianism and high levels of sacrifice among leaders reduce the problems of rivalry and social division. In the absence of such external threats, the selfish acquisition of wealth and power (and the rising inequality between the elite and common population of a society) reduces asabiya and leads to periods of social disintigration (such as what is currently going on in the United States, and what has gone on in Southern Italy, to name one famous example, for the last 2000 or so years). Certain practices, like slavery, appear to lead to "asabiya black holes" in the words of Turchin, which explains why the southern part of the US, with its low asabiya, has such poor wages and such a dismal political record (See in particular the state of Louisiana, the last "core" of the southern slaveholding culture before the civil war, which still shows large amounts of corruption, a sign of low asabiya.).
Core regions of a given society develop because of high asabiya, but the increase of imperial territory inevitably brings the frontiers far beyond the core (for reasons of safety and security, empires do not like their capitals/cores to be in periphery regions). The movement of frontiers beyond the core region mean that the forces that once brought unity to a people leave elsewhere. Through cycles of rising and falling social cohesion, an empire gradually loses steam, and eventually crumbles in what is termed, appropriately enough, imperialpathosis. Once a critical amount of asabiya is lost, an empire is finished. It is only in the frontier regions on either side of the fault lines (which move based on the performance of societies along the fault lines) that new imperial peoples gradually develop. Metaethnic lines are not to be trifled with. Consider, for example, the difference between Israel and its neighbors. Israel is a democratic, secular, Western nation, and its neighbors are highly corrupt, often intensely fundamentalist, and not particularly enlightened in their social views or their terroristic behavior. The border between Israel and its neighbors is a metaethnic line similar to those between the Mediterranean society Israel springs from and the uncultured barbarians who viewed its wealth and power jealously but who did not wish to become civilized themselves. (Incidentally enough, the Arabs did become civilized during the time they were on the outside of the metaethnic fault line between Mediterranean and Persian civilizations and the outside barbarians, but their civilization fell apart before the Turkic and Mongol invasions, followed by European colonization, and it is only recently when their asabiya has risen again as a result of the new fault lines, though it appears not to have civilized them again, yet).
What I found most interesting about the book and its contrast between core regions and peripheries, is that the book managed to pull together two strands in my own thinking. One strand was my personal preference for being far away from core regions, to be a border dweller (something that, not surprisingly, is apparently a longstanding family trait among my ancestors, who long dwelt in frontier regions in Europe and the US), far away from the centers of power. For it is in frontiers, when one is faced with alien and hostile enemies, that one learns how to join together with others for survival and finds the greatest social cohesion. However, the link with the second strand, my firm and strident concern for egalitarianism as opposed to social stratification, gives the moral justification for this preference. In periphery regions, the fierce conflict between at the fault lines leaves a low population (i.e. not many people survive there) that is so engaged in fierce struggle that they do not have the time to engage in pettier differentiation or in the hoarding of goods that separate the haves and have-nots. Instead, everyone is in it together. In core regions, by contrast, elites show off their wealth and power and engage in all sorts of petty intra-elite competitions for power and its accutrements that serve to embitter the less privileged majority of groups and distract those elites from their task of holding together their society/civilization. In other words, they fiddle while Rome burns, and they live in luxury while the legions who dwell roughly and in poverty protect the empire from the barbarian hordes across the wall/river/desert. This breeds a lot of well-earned resentment.
The well-organized and presented thoughts from Mr. Turchin should give those dwellers of core regions a lot of pause. Too often, especially in periods of declining asabiya, power is seen not for how it can serve the people, but how it can serve the officeholder, and this leads to a lot of popular cynicism that leads people to focus energy on civic duties and more energy on getting ahead themselves, which, as the "knave mentality" furthers the decline in asabiya and destroys the society from within, leaving it vulnerable to any more cohesive rival on its borders. Others, the "saints," will serve even as everyone else takes advantage, getting taken advantage of without any gain to the society they thanklessly help. It is those in the middle, the "moralists," of which I am one, who seek to punish and condemn the knaves, and in so doing reduce the cynicism of others and allow for social cohesion to develop once again. The book gave an excellent framework for some very interesting ideas, and his analysis of the modern world empires (the USA, Europe, the Middle East, Russia, and China) is frightening and dead-on. In other words, this is an exceedingly good book, and one which relates to a great many subjects on my mind.
Empires, apparently without exception, come from those frontier regions on the edge of what are termed "metaethnic fault lines." The situation of bordering entirely alien civilizations causes an extremely tight "us-against-them" mentality that leads to high levels of social cohesion, allowing large scale businesses and socieities to develop. The same may be true in religious groups as well, and is a subject worthy of further personal study in that regard (For example, can the Church of God and the wider Sabbatarian and Messianic movements be considered on the meta-religious fault line of Christianity, and if so, does that mean that right now we are on the downward slide of an asabiya cycle? More on that later.). Asabiya is apparently acquired through that survival instinct that forces social conflict to be submerged in the face of a grave and common threat where high levels of egalitarianism and high levels of sacrifice among leaders reduce the problems of rivalry and social division. In the absence of such external threats, the selfish acquisition of wealth and power (and the rising inequality between the elite and common population of a society) reduces asabiya and leads to periods of social disintigration (such as what is currently going on in the United States, and what has gone on in Southern Italy, to name one famous example, for the last 2000 or so years). Certain practices, like slavery, appear to lead to "asabiya black holes" in the words of Turchin, which explains why the southern part of the US, with its low asabiya, has such poor wages and such a dismal political record (See in particular the state of Louisiana, the last "core" of the southern slaveholding culture before the civil war, which still shows large amounts of corruption, a sign of low asabiya.).
Core regions of a given society develop because of high asabiya, but the increase of imperial territory inevitably brings the frontiers far beyond the core (for reasons of safety and security, empires do not like their capitals/cores to be in periphery regions). The movement of frontiers beyond the core region mean that the forces that once brought unity to a people leave elsewhere. Through cycles of rising and falling social cohesion, an empire gradually loses steam, and eventually crumbles in what is termed, appropriately enough, imperialpathosis. Once a critical amount of asabiya is lost, an empire is finished. It is only in the frontier regions on either side of the fault lines (which move based on the performance of societies along the fault lines) that new imperial peoples gradually develop. Metaethnic lines are not to be trifled with. Consider, for example, the difference between Israel and its neighbors. Israel is a democratic, secular, Western nation, and its neighbors are highly corrupt, often intensely fundamentalist, and not particularly enlightened in their social views or their terroristic behavior. The border between Israel and its neighbors is a metaethnic line similar to those between the Mediterranean society Israel springs from and the uncultured barbarians who viewed its wealth and power jealously but who did not wish to become civilized themselves. (Incidentally enough, the Arabs did become civilized during the time they were on the outside of the metaethnic fault line between Mediterranean and Persian civilizations and the outside barbarians, but their civilization fell apart before the Turkic and Mongol invasions, followed by European colonization, and it is only recently when their asabiya has risen again as a result of the new fault lines, though it appears not to have civilized them again, yet).
What I found most interesting about the book and its contrast between core regions and peripheries, is that the book managed to pull together two strands in my own thinking. One strand was my personal preference for being far away from core regions, to be a border dweller (something that, not surprisingly, is apparently a longstanding family trait among my ancestors, who long dwelt in frontier regions in Europe and the US), far away from the centers of power. For it is in frontiers, when one is faced with alien and hostile enemies, that one learns how to join together with others for survival and finds the greatest social cohesion. However, the link with the second strand, my firm and strident concern for egalitarianism as opposed to social stratification, gives the moral justification for this preference. In periphery regions, the fierce conflict between at the fault lines leaves a low population (i.e. not many people survive there) that is so engaged in fierce struggle that they do not have the time to engage in pettier differentiation or in the hoarding of goods that separate the haves and have-nots. Instead, everyone is in it together. In core regions, by contrast, elites show off their wealth and power and engage in all sorts of petty intra-elite competitions for power and its accutrements that serve to embitter the less privileged majority of groups and distract those elites from their task of holding together their society/civilization. In other words, they fiddle while Rome burns, and they live in luxury while the legions who dwell roughly and in poverty protect the empire from the barbarian hordes across the wall/river/desert. This breeds a lot of well-earned resentment.
The well-organized and presented thoughts from Mr. Turchin should give those dwellers of core regions a lot of pause. Too often, especially in periods of declining asabiya, power is seen not for how it can serve the people, but how it can serve the officeholder, and this leads to a lot of popular cynicism that leads people to focus energy on civic duties and more energy on getting ahead themselves, which, as the "knave mentality" furthers the decline in asabiya and destroys the society from within, leaving it vulnerable to any more cohesive rival on its borders. Others, the "saints," will serve even as everyone else takes advantage, getting taken advantage of without any gain to the society they thanklessly help. It is those in the middle, the "moralists," of which I am one, who seek to punish and condemn the knaves, and in so doing reduce the cynicism of others and allow for social cohesion to develop once again. The book gave an excellent framework for some very interesting ideas, and his analysis of the modern world empires (the USA, Europe, the Middle East, Russia, and China) is frightening and dead-on. In other words, this is an exceedingly good book, and one which relates to a great many subjects on my mind.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Dark Heroes For A Dark Time
Our heroes speak much about ourselves. Most of us are not the heroic sort of people, but inside of us we hold a certain admiration (and maybe a bit of fear) about the type of people we need to preserve the safety and security most of us hold dear. At times of great optimism, our heroes are idealistic servants of the public good, perhaps of a wealthy background, but at any rate serving within the system to fight against an external system of unspeakable evil (think, for example about the Nazis or the Commies in the writings of patriotic Americans of the '40's and '50's, as opposed to the more complicated writings of those who were themselves Communists and who resented the "simplistic" rubric of good and evil). In darker and more corrupt times, our heroes are themselves darker, torn between the duality of good and evil in their natures (a representative of the tension between dark and light in society and in the people themselves), fighting against corrupt authorities, dark and terroristic villains, and the powerful darkness in their own minds and spirits.
Our heroes reflect ourselves because of the (sometimes rather distressing) fact that we see things not as they are, but as we are. As heroes struggle against the great wrongs that people see in the world around them 9whether internal corruption or external threats), those heroes and their environments are a representation of the hopes and fears of the people they reach. In short, it is possible to reconstruct the concerns of a mostly silent (and not particularly articulate) society through the sorts of heroes that are most popular in a given time. Dutiful, hard working heroes (think of Horatio Alger tales) who succeed modestly based on pluck, hard work, virtue, and connections, speak of societies that wish for modest security and believe in the basic justice of the existing social system. On the other hand, the most recent Batman movie, "The Dark Knight," which I will spend the rest of this entry discussing, gives a much darker picture of our times.
At the heart of this movie are a group of sharply individualized characters who represent, in varying amounts, great idealism and cynicism (sometimes in the same person) in a corrupt society of Gotham City which resembles our own society in many powerful and deeply unsettling ways. Batman himself is a dark vigilante, working outside the law because the law is powerless. By day Bruce Wayne is a wealthy playboy served well by able idealists (like Lucius Fox) and a worldly wise butler. The forces of law are represented by the police and the justice system. Commissioner Gordon is representative of the idealistic but powerless forces of the police who are aware of their own limitations of power (he can't even protect himself, much less the city of Gotham, without the help of corrupt fellow cops and Batman, and he is bitterly aware of this weakness, even as he struggles to do the best he can). Harvey Dent, the supposed White Knight of Gotham (but in reality a two-faced, literally and figuratively, character) and his girlfriend and assistant Rachel Dawes (a former girlfriend of Bruce Wayne, the Dark Knight) represent the hard-working and threatened prosecutors, and the judges and mayors fare even worse.
And these are the forces of good. The forces of evil, ultimately including Dent, after he goes insane with rage over the death of his beloved which he was helpless to prevent, are an event more troubled lot. They include a bevy of corrupt cops who are willing to make deals with mobsters and the Joker (the most evil of the lot, a terrorist in love with chaos who nonetheless represents the moral chaos of the world around, personifying it and seeking to corrupt, terrorize, or destroy any who would oppose his nihilistic vision of destruction). The corrupt cops and mobsters (and, pointedly, Chinese businessmen) are knaves, feeling the pinch from Dent and Batman, who seek to rid Gotham of the corruption and vice they peddle and profit from. Their concern for the grubby profits of evil leads them to be surprised when the Joker, who has no such materialistic concerns and who merely wishes for Gotham to be destroyed, betrays them.
In such a dark world we can easily see our own. The ideals of civil servants can become corrupted by dealing with the evil and venality all around them. Cops abuse their power, politicians are controlled by corrupt business interests, and those who defend the law faithfully cannot even defend themselves. The wealthy live a life of insane privilege far beyond the comprehension, much less the reach, of the people, who inhabit "the lower fifth" and view the police and the wealthy and powerful with barely covered mistrust. The great mass of people trudge from day to day without grand hopes and dreams, merely hoping to make it, and greatly hostile (though nearly entirely helpless) against those who would disturb their drudgery. This world is our own, becoming more and more unequal, riven with intra-elite squabbles and great corruption and oppression of the common people. Who can be trusted in this world? Even the great heroes must wear masks and act outside the law (significantly, in darkness and disguise) to defend the people who mistrust them but cannot live without them. Such is our fate, for the heroes we need are not the heroes we deserve, and the heroes we deserve are not the heroes we need. As Dent says truthfully, "We either die as heroes or live to become what we hate." And so it is with us as well.
All of this bodes ill for our world. It would appear that our redemption is outside of our own hands. Though the movie does not explore the means of this redemption in a systematic manner, we may do so here. For one, hope cannot succumb to despair. The power to deliver ourselves from the powerful and deep evil in our midst (which has infected politics, religion, education, law, the family, media, indeed all of our culture and society) cannot come from ourselves, for all of us are darkened by the dark world in which we reside, often in powerful and complicated ways. But are we so corrupted by our world that we cannot recognize and admire the true hero we need to deliver us, Himself unspotted by the world and above all the corruption that we are mired in? Even so, Lord, come.
Our heroes reflect ourselves because of the (sometimes rather distressing) fact that we see things not as they are, but as we are. As heroes struggle against the great wrongs that people see in the world around them 9whether internal corruption or external threats), those heroes and their environments are a representation of the hopes and fears of the people they reach. In short, it is possible to reconstruct the concerns of a mostly silent (and not particularly articulate) society through the sorts of heroes that are most popular in a given time. Dutiful, hard working heroes (think of Horatio Alger tales) who succeed modestly based on pluck, hard work, virtue, and connections, speak of societies that wish for modest security and believe in the basic justice of the existing social system. On the other hand, the most recent Batman movie, "The Dark Knight," which I will spend the rest of this entry discussing, gives a much darker picture of our times.
At the heart of this movie are a group of sharply individualized characters who represent, in varying amounts, great idealism and cynicism (sometimes in the same person) in a corrupt society of Gotham City which resembles our own society in many powerful and deeply unsettling ways. Batman himself is a dark vigilante, working outside the law because the law is powerless. By day Bruce Wayne is a wealthy playboy served well by able idealists (like Lucius Fox) and a worldly wise butler. The forces of law are represented by the police and the justice system. Commissioner Gordon is representative of the idealistic but powerless forces of the police who are aware of their own limitations of power (he can't even protect himself, much less the city of Gotham, without the help of corrupt fellow cops and Batman, and he is bitterly aware of this weakness, even as he struggles to do the best he can). Harvey Dent, the supposed White Knight of Gotham (but in reality a two-faced, literally and figuratively, character) and his girlfriend and assistant Rachel Dawes (a former girlfriend of Bruce Wayne, the Dark Knight) represent the hard-working and threatened prosecutors, and the judges and mayors fare even worse.
And these are the forces of good. The forces of evil, ultimately including Dent, after he goes insane with rage over the death of his beloved which he was helpless to prevent, are an event more troubled lot. They include a bevy of corrupt cops who are willing to make deals with mobsters and the Joker (the most evil of the lot, a terrorist in love with chaos who nonetheless represents the moral chaos of the world around, personifying it and seeking to corrupt, terrorize, or destroy any who would oppose his nihilistic vision of destruction). The corrupt cops and mobsters (and, pointedly, Chinese businessmen) are knaves, feeling the pinch from Dent and Batman, who seek to rid Gotham of the corruption and vice they peddle and profit from. Their concern for the grubby profits of evil leads them to be surprised when the Joker, who has no such materialistic concerns and who merely wishes for Gotham to be destroyed, betrays them.
In such a dark world we can easily see our own. The ideals of civil servants can become corrupted by dealing with the evil and venality all around them. Cops abuse their power, politicians are controlled by corrupt business interests, and those who defend the law faithfully cannot even defend themselves. The wealthy live a life of insane privilege far beyond the comprehension, much less the reach, of the people, who inhabit "the lower fifth" and view the police and the wealthy and powerful with barely covered mistrust. The great mass of people trudge from day to day without grand hopes and dreams, merely hoping to make it, and greatly hostile (though nearly entirely helpless) against those who would disturb their drudgery. This world is our own, becoming more and more unequal, riven with intra-elite squabbles and great corruption and oppression of the common people. Who can be trusted in this world? Even the great heroes must wear masks and act outside the law (significantly, in darkness and disguise) to defend the people who mistrust them but cannot live without them. Such is our fate, for the heroes we need are not the heroes we deserve, and the heroes we deserve are not the heroes we need. As Dent says truthfully, "We either die as heroes or live to become what we hate." And so it is with us as well.
All of this bodes ill for our world. It would appear that our redemption is outside of our own hands. Though the movie does not explore the means of this redemption in a systematic manner, we may do so here. For one, hope cannot succumb to despair. The power to deliver ourselves from the powerful and deep evil in our midst (which has infected politics, religion, education, law, the family, media, indeed all of our culture and society) cannot come from ourselves, for all of us are darkened by the dark world in which we reside, often in powerful and complicated ways. But are we so corrupted by our world that we cannot recognize and admire the true hero we need to deliver us, Himself unspotted by the world and above all the corruption that we are mired in? Even so, Lord, come.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Lady Mondegreen
One of the new words added this year to the Mirriam-Webster dictionary is a word I was not familiar with, but which describes many of my experiences singing along to my car radio (or along to some fine music video on Youtube): mondegreen. The word itself is quite obscure, but it describes the lyrics I sing very well. Why is that, you might ask? Well, mondegreen refers to misheard song lyrics. To wit, the word mondegreen itself, not surprisingly, comes from a misheard song lyric. Lady Mondegreen is the name for a lyric that actually says "laid him on the green."
This is far from the only song (and not even the most familiar example to most people) that has flagrantly misunderstood lyrics. For example, there is a rock song known as In-a-gada-da-vida, which really was intended to be "In The Garden Of Eden." This misheard lyric is so common that it ended up becoming the name of the song. This is quite remarkable and unusual in the history of mondegreens. The word mondegreen itself was first cited in 1953, but the word has toiled away in undeserved obscurity until now. In fact, this word is such a common facet of my own singing that I will probably use it a lot more often, know that I know the word (especially since it suits me well).
One song I enjoy listening to a lot right now is the song "Violet Hill" by Coldplay, the first single from their Viva La Vida, or Death And All His Friends album. My favorite lyric in the song is probably the following: "Bury me in honor, when I'm dead and hit the ground." Of course, when I hear and sing along to the song, it goes like this: "Bury me in armor, when I'm dead and hit the ground." I just think it's cooler (given my love of castles and that sort of thing) to be buried in armor than buried in honor, not that I'm sure that would be even possible anymore (given the absolute scarcity of honor, that is).
This is far from the only song whose lyrics I butcher. I remember slaughtering the lyrics to Norah Jones' tune "Don't Know Why" while in the car with some friends of mine. This sort of tendency to slaughter the lyrics of tunes in spectacularly public ways has made me a bit gunshy when it comes to kareoke. Despite my love of singing, I actually have never sung kareoke before, though I almost sung "Man! I Feel Like A Woman!" with some friends as a joke once at a Winter Family Weekend in Lexington in 2002. Thankfully, I spared myself much embarassment, I think, by not ending up singing that particular tune.
I'd be curious to hear about some favorite misheard lyrics from my loyal readers, because these sorts of funny stories are way too good to keep private. Why not share them with a world that probably includes many people who have done the exact same things. Come, let us take a stroll with Lady Mondegreen and reflect upon our common human frailty, and the tendency of the mind to hear, sometimes, what it wants to hear and not what is.
This is far from the only song (and not even the most familiar example to most people) that has flagrantly misunderstood lyrics. For example, there is a rock song known as In-a-gada-da-vida, which really was intended to be "In The Garden Of Eden." This misheard lyric is so common that it ended up becoming the name of the song. This is quite remarkable and unusual in the history of mondegreens. The word mondegreen itself was first cited in 1953, but the word has toiled away in undeserved obscurity until now. In fact, this word is such a common facet of my own singing that I will probably use it a lot more often, know that I know the word (especially since it suits me well).
One song I enjoy listening to a lot right now is the song "Violet Hill" by Coldplay, the first single from their Viva La Vida, or Death And All His Friends album. My favorite lyric in the song is probably the following: "Bury me in honor, when I'm dead and hit the ground." Of course, when I hear and sing along to the song, it goes like this: "Bury me in armor, when I'm dead and hit the ground." I just think it's cooler (given my love of castles and that sort of thing) to be buried in armor than buried in honor, not that I'm sure that would be even possible anymore (given the absolute scarcity of honor, that is).
This is far from the only song whose lyrics I butcher. I remember slaughtering the lyrics to Norah Jones' tune "Don't Know Why" while in the car with some friends of mine. This sort of tendency to slaughter the lyrics of tunes in spectacularly public ways has made me a bit gunshy when it comes to kareoke. Despite my love of singing, I actually have never sung kareoke before, though I almost sung "Man! I Feel Like A Woman!" with some friends as a joke once at a Winter Family Weekend in Lexington in 2002. Thankfully, I spared myself much embarassment, I think, by not ending up singing that particular tune.
I'd be curious to hear about some favorite misheard lyrics from my loyal readers, because these sorts of funny stories are way too good to keep private. Why not share them with a world that probably includes many people who have done the exact same things. Come, let us take a stroll with Lady Mondegreen and reflect upon our common human frailty, and the tendency of the mind to hear, sometimes, what it wants to hear and not what is.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
A Defense of Sola Scriptura Against False Tradition
A friend of mine alerted me to a rather alarming section of a recent sermon given in Phoenix where the speaker gave a rather sarcastic commentary, laced with invective, against those who would depart from human traditions based on supposedly new understandings from the Bible. In every generation there is a struggle between the Word of God, and its sharply worded commands, and the wishes of entrenched hierarchies who wish to pass down received traditions that supposedly spring from apostles and prophets but are mediated through priests or pastors according to their own biases, seeking to defend their positions rather than the truth entrusted to them from above. It is for that reason that true believers must continually come out of Babylon because of the corruption that constantly assails all human organizations and societies.
If we are to refresh our spirits in these dark times, we must drink from the living waters of Christ, and every generation anew must find in those Words of precious truth the sword of the spirit to cut down the arguments of those who oppose God's way in practice, however much they may claim to support Him in theory. The Bible, far from being obsolete, speaks to the very concerns we deal with in life, though we do not often see it because few people are willing and able to face the harsh light of truth that the scripture has to say about human relationships and obedience to God's laws. One must remember there are two great commandments: to love God with all our heart and all our mind, and to love our neighbor as ourselves.
These two great commandments lead into two essential and difficult elements of true religion. True religion must be in conformity to God's ways. If we are truly called, and truly a part of God's church (that is, the spiritual organism), we will behave in accordance with God's law, or at least have that as our target, and admit when we (often) fall short of it. When someone, no matter what their title or position, or whatever their claim of obedience to God, mocks divine commands and calls those who point out scriptures previously neglected (though never new, for what is true has always been true, and therefore there is really no such thing as a "new truth") as rebels and blasphemers, followers of the doctrines of demons, such a person does not speak with God's Holy Spirit, but rather slanders God's servants and holds himself as a judge of souls, only to find himself condemned.
The second obligation of true religion is no easier to accomplish, loving our neighbor (which means everyone else we happen to come across) as we regard ourselves. If we have an accurate knowledge of ourselves, we will see that we have dignity in that we are children of the Most High God, and we will see the depravity that all of us share as fallen sons of Adam. Such mixtures of dignity and depravity we see in ourselves (if we are honest) are also present, in varying quantities and qualities, in everyone else as well. No one is above the curse of sin and the suffering that results from a fallen nature, and no one is below the dignity of being a child of God. We are all struggling humans alike, whether we realize it or not. None of us has any place for shame, for all of us were put here for His purposes, and none of us has any place for glorying in ourselves, for God alone has the glory--solo gloria Dei.
We can only know these things, though, from a knowledge of the scriptures. It was the scriptures that the wise Bereans searched to prove whether Paul was truly speaking correctly in his messages. It was the scriptures (probably Deuteronomy) that Josiah the righteous king of Judah looked in to see the harrowing judgment about to fall upon his idolatrous nation that God mercifully allowed him not to see. It was the scriptures that inspired men like William Tyndale to risk their lives to translate these good words for the spiritual building up of their fellow human beings trapped in ignorance to vain and corrupt priests who claimed that the church was infallible and that only they had the right to read the scriptures and interpret it. They were wrong--no human church is, ever has been, or ever can be infallible. So long as we are human beings serving other human beings, there will be some area we fall short in, some way to improve, some aspect of our knowledge that is incomplete, or that we give too much credence to human traditions and false interpretations taught by well-meaning people that were nonetheless just as flawed (and hopefully just as sincere) as we are.
It is for that reason that we must ever be willing to look to the Word of God for reproof and instruction, for we are never too wise to learn something new or so knowledgeable that we have no need of further instruction, nor so good that we have no need of further correction. The more a wise person knows, the more they are aware of their ignorance, and the more aware they are of their fallen and sinful nature that they must struggle with constantly. It is only an errant fool that considers themselves all-knowing and all-good, and above any accountability to others or to the scriptures. It is not merely a matter of seeking a private word to God that makes us superior to others, but rather a matter of letting ourselves remember that we are all to be held accountable to the standard of God's word.
It is, incidentally, for this very reason that God commands us to fellowship with other people. We all have, by virtue of our experiences and personalities, and differing quantities and usage of different talents and gifts, some areas where we excel and some where we struggle. Without a close awareness of where our gifts can help someone else with a shortfall in a given area, and a close awareness of our shortfalls that need help from other people who are blessed in that particular area (let none of us suppose we are without them), we fall into the trap that says that we are blessed and others have to follow our example, but we have nothing to learn from them, and no use for them except as followers of us. There is no believer, no matter how old or how young, how intellectual or how unlearned, how patient or how much in a hurry, how fast or slow, how wealthy or how poor, how healthy or how frail, that we cannot learn from and that we cannot teach.
What we lack, more than anything, is that spiritual sight that looks beyond the superficial and physical things, the pretty titles and vain use of power and the bully pulpit, and that examines the spiritual heart within ourselves and others. Let us be less proud of our own thoughts--all of us--and more interested in learning what God has to tell us, and maybe then we could fight less about stupid things, spend less time on what is not remotely important, and get to the hard work that is helping improve the world one life and one relationship at a time, whether that means forgiving wrongs, not being easily offended, changing our ways that lead to our unhappiness and trouble, taking our pride a few notches down so that we can listen to what other people tell us without becoming angry, and facing ourselves and others as the mixture of good and evil that all of us possess. We cannot, though, reach these heights unless we realize that we have not finished climbing the mountain yet, and are still struggling to find a place for our feet and hands to latch onto on the sheer cliff we have made it our goal to climb. Until we reach the top, we have no cause to think ourselves or our organizations to be without flaw and blemish, for if we were without blemish, we would not need to crow about it, or insult others who pointed out our flaws for good motive or bad, but would rather be living testaments to God's goodness even without speaking a word at all. I wish I were at that point. Perhaps someday.
If we are to refresh our spirits in these dark times, we must drink from the living waters of Christ, and every generation anew must find in those Words of precious truth the sword of the spirit to cut down the arguments of those who oppose God's way in practice, however much they may claim to support Him in theory. The Bible, far from being obsolete, speaks to the very concerns we deal with in life, though we do not often see it because few people are willing and able to face the harsh light of truth that the scripture has to say about human relationships and obedience to God's laws. One must remember there are two great commandments: to love God with all our heart and all our mind, and to love our neighbor as ourselves.
These two great commandments lead into two essential and difficult elements of true religion. True religion must be in conformity to God's ways. If we are truly called, and truly a part of God's church (that is, the spiritual organism), we will behave in accordance with God's law, or at least have that as our target, and admit when we (often) fall short of it. When someone, no matter what their title or position, or whatever their claim of obedience to God, mocks divine commands and calls those who point out scriptures previously neglected (though never new, for what is true has always been true, and therefore there is really no such thing as a "new truth") as rebels and blasphemers, followers of the doctrines of demons, such a person does not speak with God's Holy Spirit, but rather slanders God's servants and holds himself as a judge of souls, only to find himself condemned.
The second obligation of true religion is no easier to accomplish, loving our neighbor (which means everyone else we happen to come across) as we regard ourselves. If we have an accurate knowledge of ourselves, we will see that we have dignity in that we are children of the Most High God, and we will see the depravity that all of us share as fallen sons of Adam. Such mixtures of dignity and depravity we see in ourselves (if we are honest) are also present, in varying quantities and qualities, in everyone else as well. No one is above the curse of sin and the suffering that results from a fallen nature, and no one is below the dignity of being a child of God. We are all struggling humans alike, whether we realize it or not. None of us has any place for shame, for all of us were put here for His purposes, and none of us has any place for glorying in ourselves, for God alone has the glory--solo gloria Dei.
We can only know these things, though, from a knowledge of the scriptures. It was the scriptures that the wise Bereans searched to prove whether Paul was truly speaking correctly in his messages. It was the scriptures (probably Deuteronomy) that Josiah the righteous king of Judah looked in to see the harrowing judgment about to fall upon his idolatrous nation that God mercifully allowed him not to see. It was the scriptures that inspired men like William Tyndale to risk their lives to translate these good words for the spiritual building up of their fellow human beings trapped in ignorance to vain and corrupt priests who claimed that the church was infallible and that only they had the right to read the scriptures and interpret it. They were wrong--no human church is, ever has been, or ever can be infallible. So long as we are human beings serving other human beings, there will be some area we fall short in, some way to improve, some aspect of our knowledge that is incomplete, or that we give too much credence to human traditions and false interpretations taught by well-meaning people that were nonetheless just as flawed (and hopefully just as sincere) as we are.
It is for that reason that we must ever be willing to look to the Word of God for reproof and instruction, for we are never too wise to learn something new or so knowledgeable that we have no need of further instruction, nor so good that we have no need of further correction. The more a wise person knows, the more they are aware of their ignorance, and the more aware they are of their fallen and sinful nature that they must struggle with constantly. It is only an errant fool that considers themselves all-knowing and all-good, and above any accountability to others or to the scriptures. It is not merely a matter of seeking a private word to God that makes us superior to others, but rather a matter of letting ourselves remember that we are all to be held accountable to the standard of God's word.
It is, incidentally, for this very reason that God commands us to fellowship with other people. We all have, by virtue of our experiences and personalities, and differing quantities and usage of different talents and gifts, some areas where we excel and some where we struggle. Without a close awareness of where our gifts can help someone else with a shortfall in a given area, and a close awareness of our shortfalls that need help from other people who are blessed in that particular area (let none of us suppose we are without them), we fall into the trap that says that we are blessed and others have to follow our example, but we have nothing to learn from them, and no use for them except as followers of us. There is no believer, no matter how old or how young, how intellectual or how unlearned, how patient or how much in a hurry, how fast or slow, how wealthy or how poor, how healthy or how frail, that we cannot learn from and that we cannot teach.
What we lack, more than anything, is that spiritual sight that looks beyond the superficial and physical things, the pretty titles and vain use of power and the bully pulpit, and that examines the spiritual heart within ourselves and others. Let us be less proud of our own thoughts--all of us--and more interested in learning what God has to tell us, and maybe then we could fight less about stupid things, spend less time on what is not remotely important, and get to the hard work that is helping improve the world one life and one relationship at a time, whether that means forgiving wrongs, not being easily offended, changing our ways that lead to our unhappiness and trouble, taking our pride a few notches down so that we can listen to what other people tell us without becoming angry, and facing ourselves and others as the mixture of good and evil that all of us possess. We cannot, though, reach these heights unless we realize that we have not finished climbing the mountain yet, and are still struggling to find a place for our feet and hands to latch onto on the sheer cliff we have made it our goal to climb. Until we reach the top, we have no cause to think ourselves or our organizations to be without flaw and blemish, for if we were without blemish, we would not need to crow about it, or insult others who pointed out our flaws for good motive or bad, but would rather be living testaments to God's goodness even without speaking a word at all. I wish I were at that point. Perhaps someday.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Biblical Re-enactment Society: A Case Study In Collaborative Leadership
Four years ago, as students at the Ambassador Bible Center, a fellow named Tyler and I co-write a skit for the Lifenets (www.lifenets.org) Charity Auction called "Biblical Re-Enactment Society." The short work (only about ten pages or so) remains the funniest play, by a fairly substantial margin, in my largely serious body of work. My thoughts were directed to this particular skit by an excellent video I recently watched (on http://abc.ucg.org under "Gaining Godly Wisdom, Building Godly Character"), where I saw a humorous skit called "Real Biblical Heroes" that reminded me of my own collaborative script in its use of biblical stories as the fodder for lighthearted humor about human nature and human experience.
Two thoughts came to mind as I reflected upon the "Biblical Re-Enactment Society" skit. The first was about how much fun it was to work on the script with other people. Usually, when I am writing, I sit alone at a computer and type about some melancholy subject or another, often without trying intentionally to be melancholy. However, in writing collaborative works, without trying the works are usually much more light-hearted and funny, much less overwelmingly serious and dark, and are often much more enjoyable in performance with other people. For whatever reason, collaborating brings out a much happier side of my personality than my usual solo writing works. Perhaps this should be a sign that I should write collaboratively more often, though it has been a very unusual practice for me to do so.
The second thought that came to mind is more extended, and is the subject of this paper at large. In life and in my recreational activities (be they writing or playing roleplaying games and so on), I often have serious difficulties with the way in which other people lead. While some people are comforted by strong leadership, as it reminds them of order, for whatever reason (and there are plenty of reasons), the exercise of a strong arm of leadership tends to be taken as a hostile act of war on my part, with serious consequences for my relationships with said authority figures, as well as those others who support them. It is not enough, though, merely to be in opposition to power. Power, like it or not, is something that has to be dealt with, and someone must possess it and use it. The question is not, therefore, whether there is to be power or not, but how it is to be used correctly.
And, as odd as it may seem, the Biblical Re-Enactment Society project has a fair amount to say about the correct uses of power, and how power becomes almost invisible when it is used in a genuinely collaborative effort of shared ownership. Let me explain, in case this seems a bit too unusual. As the lead writer of the skit, I worked at the beginning with a co-writer whose sense of humor was similar to my own, and we created ten pages of written material that followed a group of young people through two scenes (and one "mother" character at the end of each scene) who were attempting to re-enact the scene where Jesus answers the Sadducees concerning a story about a woman who married seven brothers who each died. Even the forms of death were comical, ranging from being shot with an arrow by Roman auxilleries to being stoned to death with stones, which is quite unusual in my body of work (in which death, usually of a tragic nature, is quite prominent).
At the same time Tyler and I were writing this script, another classmate of mine was working on a script for a skit for the same show, about the Robin Hood cycle of tales. In contrast to the collegial working enviornment of my co-author and I, though, he did not seek the interaction of other people with the script. He had a vision for the script and did not desire anyone else to share ownership in it. Needless to say, this created difficulties with the actors and actresses he wished to fill the roles of Maid Marian, Friar Tuck, Little John, and so on. On the contrary, when our script was handed out to the classmates we wished to take on various roles, several of them made suggestions about how they thought they could change their roles to better suit themselves--including some changes in wording, and the addition, in one case, of some very stellar physical comedy. My co-writer and I had no difficulty with these changes, which made the work an even better one (and certainly gave the other students involved a sense of ownership in the project that made it work much more smoothly).
Without realizing it (as I had never been in a position of authority as profound as directing and producing a skit), I had hit upon a handy technique for collaborative leadership. Since it was a charity show skit, I had no money to offer the students I was directing (nor did I receive any myself). What I could offer, though, was the ability of my fellow students to make their roles their own, and that ownership in the roles, and hence in the work itself, was all that was necessary to make the show a success. The other show never even got performed because no one would agree to work alongside a petty dictator who refused to share "creative control." This was a powerful lesson to me.
Since then, there have been a few, but not many, opportunities for me to be in charge of something, but I have not forgotten the importance of allowing other people to own projects. I know for myself that I like to own the projects I work on with other people, at least owning a part that is important to me. Those that present me with plans fully made and partially implemented who seek my support without seeking my input gain neither, but only gain my opposition. Being so intent on owning projects before I can support them, perhaps my inclination to treat others as I wished to be treated (by allowing them to own a project I had originated) was a more profound lesson in how to lead than I had originally thought.
It is somewhat sad, though, that this experience is rare from what I have seen. Far too often people are in a hurry to get something done and fail to ask other people for input on ways to improve the project or its implementation, and so the projects fail for lack of support from those who are affected by the change. I have seen quite a few such projects fail, either through outright revolt against the change, or through the quiet and effective sabatoge of the change by those who were not consulted before the attempted change. It is a shame they were not so wise as to realize that the desire to create and own is present in all of us, and that it if one desires to succeed, it is far better to be open and collaborative about it than to be secretive and proud about owning something all by one's lonesome. Those who do not share their toys play in the sandbox alone.
Two thoughts came to mind as I reflected upon the "Biblical Re-Enactment Society" skit. The first was about how much fun it was to work on the script with other people. Usually, when I am writing, I sit alone at a computer and type about some melancholy subject or another, often without trying intentionally to be melancholy. However, in writing collaborative works, without trying the works are usually much more light-hearted and funny, much less overwelmingly serious and dark, and are often much more enjoyable in performance with other people. For whatever reason, collaborating brings out a much happier side of my personality than my usual solo writing works. Perhaps this should be a sign that I should write collaboratively more often, though it has been a very unusual practice for me to do so.
The second thought that came to mind is more extended, and is the subject of this paper at large. In life and in my recreational activities (be they writing or playing roleplaying games and so on), I often have serious difficulties with the way in which other people lead. While some people are comforted by strong leadership, as it reminds them of order, for whatever reason (and there are plenty of reasons), the exercise of a strong arm of leadership tends to be taken as a hostile act of war on my part, with serious consequences for my relationships with said authority figures, as well as those others who support them. It is not enough, though, merely to be in opposition to power. Power, like it or not, is something that has to be dealt with, and someone must possess it and use it. The question is not, therefore, whether there is to be power or not, but how it is to be used correctly.
And, as odd as it may seem, the Biblical Re-Enactment Society project has a fair amount to say about the correct uses of power, and how power becomes almost invisible when it is used in a genuinely collaborative effort of shared ownership. Let me explain, in case this seems a bit too unusual. As the lead writer of the skit, I worked at the beginning with a co-writer whose sense of humor was similar to my own, and we created ten pages of written material that followed a group of young people through two scenes (and one "mother" character at the end of each scene) who were attempting to re-enact the scene where Jesus answers the Sadducees concerning a story about a woman who married seven brothers who each died. Even the forms of death were comical, ranging from being shot with an arrow by Roman auxilleries to being stoned to death with stones, which is quite unusual in my body of work (in which death, usually of a tragic nature, is quite prominent).
At the same time Tyler and I were writing this script, another classmate of mine was working on a script for a skit for the same show, about the Robin Hood cycle of tales. In contrast to the collegial working enviornment of my co-author and I, though, he did not seek the interaction of other people with the script. He had a vision for the script and did not desire anyone else to share ownership in it. Needless to say, this created difficulties with the actors and actresses he wished to fill the roles of Maid Marian, Friar Tuck, Little John, and so on. On the contrary, when our script was handed out to the classmates we wished to take on various roles, several of them made suggestions about how they thought they could change their roles to better suit themselves--including some changes in wording, and the addition, in one case, of some very stellar physical comedy. My co-writer and I had no difficulty with these changes, which made the work an even better one (and certainly gave the other students involved a sense of ownership in the project that made it work much more smoothly).
Without realizing it (as I had never been in a position of authority as profound as directing and producing a skit), I had hit upon a handy technique for collaborative leadership. Since it was a charity show skit, I had no money to offer the students I was directing (nor did I receive any myself). What I could offer, though, was the ability of my fellow students to make their roles their own, and that ownership in the roles, and hence in the work itself, was all that was necessary to make the show a success. The other show never even got performed because no one would agree to work alongside a petty dictator who refused to share "creative control." This was a powerful lesson to me.
Since then, there have been a few, but not many, opportunities for me to be in charge of something, but I have not forgotten the importance of allowing other people to own projects. I know for myself that I like to own the projects I work on with other people, at least owning a part that is important to me. Those that present me with plans fully made and partially implemented who seek my support without seeking my input gain neither, but only gain my opposition. Being so intent on owning projects before I can support them, perhaps my inclination to treat others as I wished to be treated (by allowing them to own a project I had originated) was a more profound lesson in how to lead than I had originally thought.
It is somewhat sad, though, that this experience is rare from what I have seen. Far too often people are in a hurry to get something done and fail to ask other people for input on ways to improve the project or its implementation, and so the projects fail for lack of support from those who are affected by the change. I have seen quite a few such projects fail, either through outright revolt against the change, or through the quiet and effective sabatoge of the change by those who were not consulted before the attempted change. It is a shame they were not so wise as to realize that the desire to create and own is present in all of us, and that it if one desires to succeed, it is far better to be open and collaborative about it than to be secretive and proud about owning something all by one's lonesome. Those who do not share their toys play in the sandbox alone.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Ceteris Paribus: On The Virtues and Vices of Simplification
Ceteris Paribus is a handy Latin expression, used most often in economics, which means "with other things the same" or "all other things being equal." This particular simplifying assumption is an attempt to eliminate, for purposes of comparison or analysis, those niggling factors and error terms that result from the simple fact that all other things are never really equal. Given the rather esoteric use of this particular expression, I am concerned with the practical implications of this simplification, and what it means for our attempts to understand the complexity of our world. Consider this, therefore, a philosophical sort of post.
One of the fundamental axioms of my own life can be summed up with the following phrase: "there is an easy answer, and it is invariably wrong (or, at best, incomplete)." Given the contingent nature of so much in our lives, and the complexity that surrounds us at every turn, the certainty that so many people attach to such doubtful things is an area of deep concern to me. Is the faith of people that strong, or is it that others are so ignorant of the complex details and so confident in their ability to fill in the gaps that they do not recognize how little we really know about ourselves and our world? Indeed, the faith of those that deny the reality of God and the existence of anything beyond the material realm far exceeds the considerable faith of the most devout believer in the inerrancy of Holy scripture. What gives people the logical wherewithal to cast aside such great aspects of reality to comfort themselves with an apparent (and false) simplicity? Often, it is simplifying assumptions like "ceteris paribus" that allow people to toss aside the nasty unpleasantries of reality to focus on the comforting apparent similarities between two cases.
In some ways, this reliance on proof by analogy (of which ceteris paribus is one element) is necessary in logic and proof for lack of better alternatives. By virtue of the Pareto principle, a few crucial factors have a hugely disproportionate impact on something than the vast majority of other factors. In other words, the vital few have an explanatory power that far exceeds that of the trivial many. Who, though, gets to decide which elements are the vital few and which are the trivial many? Who gets to cut through the complexities of a matter and simplify it down to a reasonable and manageable level so that analysis can be undertaken to better understand the matter at hand? What grounds are acceptable for this simplification?
These are not particularly easy questions to answer when we get down to business. Let us consider a continuum between the messy and complicated truth, of which our knowledge is limited and finite on one side and an exceedingly simple but incomplete model of this truth on the other side. The more easily we seek to make the problem that reality presents us, the less our conception of the problem corresponds with the actual reality. The more closely we try to approximate that reality, though, the more difficult we make our given task on ourselves. Where do we draw the line between the quest for absolute truth and the awareness of our human limitations in comprehension and analysis? There appears to be no easy or definite answer to this question, though it behooves us to recognize the simplifications we make, the factors we ignore, and maintain a humble attitude towards the complexity and uncertainty that remain, even if we are pleased with the simplicity and accuracy of our chosen models.
In the final analysis, the test of models is how they correspond with reality itself. A robust model makes predictions about a given aspect of the real world. The more ambitious the model, the more claims it makes, and higher its ability of being falsified by reality. While absolute metaphysical certainty remains beyond the grasp of humanity (as much as we pretend otherwise), we act on our faith by testing our ideas and theories against reality. If they come out successfully, approximating what we expect from the world around us, and using as few simplifications as possible, and capturing as many features of analogous phenomena as possible, we can be confident that our theories and models are true. If we, however, wall ourselves off from empirical tests for fear our cherished theories will not be able to swim in the deep waters of reality, or if, worse, we deny any reality to test our theories and ideas against, we have no one but ourselves to blame for the ridicule which falls on those who talk a big game but refuse a difficult challenge. Let us, therefore, go on boldly, but humbly, while we tilt against windmills and struggle to deal with the complicated world around us. All other things being the same, I'd rather face as much of the reality this world confronts us with as possible.
One of the fundamental axioms of my own life can be summed up with the following phrase: "there is an easy answer, and it is invariably wrong (or, at best, incomplete)." Given the contingent nature of so much in our lives, and the complexity that surrounds us at every turn, the certainty that so many people attach to such doubtful things is an area of deep concern to me. Is the faith of people that strong, or is it that others are so ignorant of the complex details and so confident in their ability to fill in the gaps that they do not recognize how little we really know about ourselves and our world? Indeed, the faith of those that deny the reality of God and the existence of anything beyond the material realm far exceeds the considerable faith of the most devout believer in the inerrancy of Holy scripture. What gives people the logical wherewithal to cast aside such great aspects of reality to comfort themselves with an apparent (and false) simplicity? Often, it is simplifying assumptions like "ceteris paribus" that allow people to toss aside the nasty unpleasantries of reality to focus on the comforting apparent similarities between two cases.
In some ways, this reliance on proof by analogy (of which ceteris paribus is one element) is necessary in logic and proof for lack of better alternatives. By virtue of the Pareto principle, a few crucial factors have a hugely disproportionate impact on something than the vast majority of other factors. In other words, the vital few have an explanatory power that far exceeds that of the trivial many. Who, though, gets to decide which elements are the vital few and which are the trivial many? Who gets to cut through the complexities of a matter and simplify it down to a reasonable and manageable level so that analysis can be undertaken to better understand the matter at hand? What grounds are acceptable for this simplification?
These are not particularly easy questions to answer when we get down to business. Let us consider a continuum between the messy and complicated truth, of which our knowledge is limited and finite on one side and an exceedingly simple but incomplete model of this truth on the other side. The more easily we seek to make the problem that reality presents us, the less our conception of the problem corresponds with the actual reality. The more closely we try to approximate that reality, though, the more difficult we make our given task on ourselves. Where do we draw the line between the quest for absolute truth and the awareness of our human limitations in comprehension and analysis? There appears to be no easy or definite answer to this question, though it behooves us to recognize the simplifications we make, the factors we ignore, and maintain a humble attitude towards the complexity and uncertainty that remain, even if we are pleased with the simplicity and accuracy of our chosen models.
In the final analysis, the test of models is how they correspond with reality itself. A robust model makes predictions about a given aspect of the real world. The more ambitious the model, the more claims it makes, and higher its ability of being falsified by reality. While absolute metaphysical certainty remains beyond the grasp of humanity (as much as we pretend otherwise), we act on our faith by testing our ideas and theories against reality. If they come out successfully, approximating what we expect from the world around us, and using as few simplifications as possible, and capturing as many features of analogous phenomena as possible, we can be confident that our theories and models are true. If we, however, wall ourselves off from empirical tests for fear our cherished theories will not be able to swim in the deep waters of reality, or if, worse, we deny any reality to test our theories and ideas against, we have no one but ourselves to blame for the ridicule which falls on those who talk a big game but refuse a difficult challenge. Let us, therefore, go on boldly, but humbly, while we tilt against windmills and struggle to deal with the complicated world around us. All other things being the same, I'd rather face as much of the reality this world confronts us with as possible.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed
This blog is not typically a movie review blog, though in this particular case I will make an exception, because the subject of the movie to be reviewed fits along with the general philosophical and scientific interests of this blog, and so those who read my blog are likely to be at least interested in the subject material this documentary involves. In the interests of full disclosure, I am not only an avid reader of books from the Intelligent Design movement (from Dembski and Behe to Johnson and Denton, among many others), but I have also written on the subject, for a paper on "The Pseudoscience of Evolution" in a historiography class, where I examined the metaphysical commitment of evolutionists to naturalism--that is, methodolical atheism, as an unexamined and unproven aspect of the supposed "definition" of science. Therefore, I am not, nor do I claim to be, a remotely unbiased reviewer of this film, for I am not only an avid student and spectator of the Intelligent Design debate, but I am also a participant, even if an obscure one. With that said, in the interest of intellectual honesty, the review may properly commence.
"Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed" www.expelledthemovie.com
Ben Stein is perhaps the perfect person to make a documentary about the Intelligent Design debate. He does not come into this debate with commitments to one side or another, but merely seeks, as a scientifically inclined fellow partisan of freedom, to find honest answers to honest questions. His spirit of honest inquiry leads him, in this movie, to make a trail all around the USA (and the world) in search of answers to where his inquiry leads him. He speaks with evolutionary lights like Richard Dawkins (who comes across as rather smarmy) and others, and speaks with a few of the leading Intellectual Design scientists (like Dembski and Berlinski and Meyer). He goes to Darwin's home and examines the relationship between Darwinism and Eugenics and Nazism. He compares, in a leitmotif that appears throughout the documentary, the intellectual stonewalling of Darwinim to the Berlin Wall. The movie itself is bookended with a speech where Ben Stein speaks for the freedom of honest inquiry to prevail in all areas to preserve our freedom as a nation.
Perhaps the most poigiant aspect of this appeal to freedom of inquiry involves Stein's interviews with those in the scientific and journalistic community who have been "expelled" because of their adherence to, or openness to an honest examination of, intellectual design. Allowing the theory of Intellectual Design to obtain scholarly credentialing is apparently touching the forbidden third rail of "science." Meanwhile, Dawkins, a militant atheist, manages to expose the shallow National Academy of the Scienes attempt to marry liberal Christians and scientists to leave a place for religious faith that is as consequential as knitting (!) is shown to be a trojan horse for the incubus of atheism. The stakes of this fight are great, for as Ben Stein correctly notes, the dignity of humanity and the humane treatment of those who are weak and defenseless in society (the unborn, the elderly, the handicapped) depends on a moral worldview that ultimately springs from a belief in an ethical Supreme Deity. No God, no morality.
Despite the obvious seriousness of the movie's point, and the rather sobering looks at Dachau and an "insane assylum" where Nazis starved and murdered those with mental and physical deformities (and where Stein unsuccessfully attempts to elicit outrage from the caretaker of this place, who did not think it proper to presume to tell Hitler that what he did was wicked or insane), the movie itself is leavened with a lot of biting humor. Among the funniest moments are where Stein examines some of the "scientific" theories about the beginning of life, such as the deliberate seeding of earth by aliens (who nonetheless developed by undirected evolution themselves) and the piggybacking of organic materials on crystals. Ben Stein is as incredulous as this reviewer is in examining what passes for science compared with what is barred from the gates. Ben Stein's deadpan sense of humor and straightforward search for answers shows how he moved from an ignorant observer to a partisan in this debate through an honest consideration of the facts and the implications of clashing worldviews.
The fundamental point of the movie, though, is that America was founded on the principles that we were endowed by our Creator with unalienable rights simply by virtue of being humans, and these freedoms are in danger because of a metaphysical preconception of humankind as being the result of undirected evolution without any kind of inherent moral obligations or free will. Furthermore, to question this assumption is to come under the wrath of the "science police" and be subject to great harassment, loss of professional career and research opportunities, and blacklisting from future employment. Those who refuse to knuckle down deserve our support as brave soldiers fighting against the great armies of evil who have entrenched themselves in our society with their doctrine of materialism.
Indeed, my only criticism of this movie is that, at 90 minutes, that it is rather too short. No one watching this movie with a remotely open mind, though, can fail to notice that Ben Stein has brought to public light the essence of the greatest current threat to civilization, one that nearly destroyed us in Hitler's time and with Communism. As such, he deserves our thanks and our support. Those who would silence debate about any subject, and punish those who seek the truth and seek honest inquiry, are admitting the weakness of their own position and using their power despotically to preserve their own shaky position. All such efforts threaten the very survival of our great experiment in (righteous) liberty as a nation and people.
May God bless Ben Stein in his efforts, and may those of us watching realize the importance of the fight he is now a (surprising) participant in. He certainly has my support. This movie gets five stars out of five, and is on my list of dvds to buy the minute it is released. Who knows, I may even to go the theater again to see it with some friends if possible.
"Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed" www.expelledthemovie.com
Ben Stein is perhaps the perfect person to make a documentary about the Intelligent Design debate. He does not come into this debate with commitments to one side or another, but merely seeks, as a scientifically inclined fellow partisan of freedom, to find honest answers to honest questions. His spirit of honest inquiry leads him, in this movie, to make a trail all around the USA (and the world) in search of answers to where his inquiry leads him. He speaks with evolutionary lights like Richard Dawkins (who comes across as rather smarmy) and others, and speaks with a few of the leading Intellectual Design scientists (like Dembski and Berlinski and Meyer). He goes to Darwin's home and examines the relationship between Darwinism and Eugenics and Nazism. He compares, in a leitmotif that appears throughout the documentary, the intellectual stonewalling of Darwinim to the Berlin Wall. The movie itself is bookended with a speech where Ben Stein speaks for the freedom of honest inquiry to prevail in all areas to preserve our freedom as a nation.
Perhaps the most poigiant aspect of this appeal to freedom of inquiry involves Stein's interviews with those in the scientific and journalistic community who have been "expelled" because of their adherence to, or openness to an honest examination of, intellectual design. Allowing the theory of Intellectual Design to obtain scholarly credentialing is apparently touching the forbidden third rail of "science." Meanwhile, Dawkins, a militant atheist, manages to expose the shallow National Academy of the Scienes attempt to marry liberal Christians and scientists to leave a place for religious faith that is as consequential as knitting (!) is shown to be a trojan horse for the incubus of atheism. The stakes of this fight are great, for as Ben Stein correctly notes, the dignity of humanity and the humane treatment of those who are weak and defenseless in society (the unborn, the elderly, the handicapped) depends on a moral worldview that ultimately springs from a belief in an ethical Supreme Deity. No God, no morality.
Despite the obvious seriousness of the movie's point, and the rather sobering looks at Dachau and an "insane assylum" where Nazis starved and murdered those with mental and physical deformities (and where Stein unsuccessfully attempts to elicit outrage from the caretaker of this place, who did not think it proper to presume to tell Hitler that what he did was wicked or insane), the movie itself is leavened with a lot of biting humor. Among the funniest moments are where Stein examines some of the "scientific" theories about the beginning of life, such as the deliberate seeding of earth by aliens (who nonetheless developed by undirected evolution themselves) and the piggybacking of organic materials on crystals. Ben Stein is as incredulous as this reviewer is in examining what passes for science compared with what is barred from the gates. Ben Stein's deadpan sense of humor and straightforward search for answers shows how he moved from an ignorant observer to a partisan in this debate through an honest consideration of the facts and the implications of clashing worldviews.
The fundamental point of the movie, though, is that America was founded on the principles that we were endowed by our Creator with unalienable rights simply by virtue of being humans, and these freedoms are in danger because of a metaphysical preconception of humankind as being the result of undirected evolution without any kind of inherent moral obligations or free will. Furthermore, to question this assumption is to come under the wrath of the "science police" and be subject to great harassment, loss of professional career and research opportunities, and blacklisting from future employment. Those who refuse to knuckle down deserve our support as brave soldiers fighting against the great armies of evil who have entrenched themselves in our society with their doctrine of materialism.
Indeed, my only criticism of this movie is that, at 90 minutes, that it is rather too short. No one watching this movie with a remotely open mind, though, can fail to notice that Ben Stein has brought to public light the essence of the greatest current threat to civilization, one that nearly destroyed us in Hitler's time and with Communism. As such, he deserves our thanks and our support. Those who would silence debate about any subject, and punish those who seek the truth and seek honest inquiry, are admitting the weakness of their own position and using their power despotically to preserve their own shaky position. All such efforts threaten the very survival of our great experiment in (righteous) liberty as a nation and people.
May God bless Ben Stein in his efforts, and may those of us watching realize the importance of the fight he is now a (surprising) participant in. He certainly has my support. This movie gets five stars out of five, and is on my list of dvds to buy the minute it is released. Who knows, I may even to go the theater again to see it with some friends if possible.
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