Month: September 2004

From Terry Mattingly:

1 – Have only one television set in the home. Media critic Neil Postman has said that people have always had castles in the air and imaginary lives, but that it was not until television that people actually tried (perhaps statistically speaking) to live in them. …



3 – Children should never watch TV alone. If you stick with this rule, it will have an amazing impact on your whole family. …



6 – Read a newspaper. It is amazing how much one can learn about the extremes of visual media—the best and the worst—merely by reading and clipping articles in a good newspaper. …



8 – Talk back to the TV. Voice your opinions—especially on the moral and religious content in programs and even in advertisements. … [I’m particularly good at this one…]

More…

This is just wrong.

(via Eve Tushnet)

…maybe all this hand-wringing is pointless since your vote won’t count anyway.

Two blogs of note added to the ol’ blogroll:

Mere Comments is the blog associated with Touchstone Magazine: A Journal of Mere Christianity.

One of the editors of the New Pantagruel, another fine publication, blogs at The Japery.

Scandal of Particularity has a good discussion on whether Christians ought to vote. The post links to a forum on the Ekklesia project where the issue is debated vigorously, as well as an essay by evangelical scholar Mark Noll on why he will not be voting for president.

There are two arguments at work here, one based on current circumstances and a more radical one. Noll’s argument is that each party neglects issues of crucial importance from a Christian point of view, and so he cannot in good conscience support either one. But, presumably, he could support a party that did take these issues seriously.

The Ekklesia project folks, on the other hand, take a more radical line on the question of voting. This position is also well articulated in this essay from the Bruderhof website.

In a nutshell, the argument is that Christians are citizens of a different kingdom, but one that rules by peace rather than violence and coercion. To participate in the functions of the modern nation-state means to be inevitably complicit in the means by which it maintains its rule. Christians should eschew all attempts to “legislate the kingdom” and focus instead on direct acts of mercy and community-building. This line of argument takes its inspiration from, among others, Stanley Hauerwas, who has urged Christians to recognize that their loyalty to the Church must precede their loyalty to any nation or political system, especially that of modern liberal democracy.

The problem with this position, in my view, is that it takes an undeniable truth and makes an illegitimate inference from it. The undeniable truth is that, for Christians, the coming of Christ has inaugurated a new age in which the claims of the political realm have been chastened. St. Augustine forcefully articulated this in his City of God. There are two cities – the City of God and the City of man – and they exist in tension with one another. One consequence of this is that the political order can no longer lay claim to our undivided allegiance as it did for paganism. Nor can politics deliver the kingdom. At best, according to Augustine, it can provide a peaceful order in which Christians and pagans can coexist and the Church can go about her business of evangelization.

It doesn’t follow from this, though, that politics is evil or unnecessary. It is, as Luther said, part of God’s providential care for his creation. As such, it has a role to play, but one that is quite different from that of the Church. If we keep the fundamentally limited nature of politics in mind, I don’t see why Christians should abstain from voting in principle. Christians can certainly contribute to the maintenance of earthly justice, even while realizing that it will always fall short of the City of God. This doesn’t mean that we should “do evil that good may come.” It may be that in a particular election Christians shouldn’t support any of the available candidates, but this is a different matter.

Political involvement should be a matter of prudence. The great Christian thinkers of the past thought that there were a variety of forms that legitimate government could take. This was in part because there was no divinely mandated form of government; rather, government served to maintain external justice and order in a fallen world. They recognized that the ends of government were different from the ends of the Church. What degree of justice was attainable through politics would depend on circumstances.

Some of what I’ve read by those who advocate total abstention from voting has a bit of a “god that failed” ring about it. That is, I suspect these are in some cases ex-liberals who thought that they could bring about the kingdom through political action. When that turned out not to be the case, in their disappointment, they rejected politics altogether. But this misunderstands the fundamentally limited and anti-utopian nature of any Christian politics. We should expect neither too much nor too little from politics. Remembering this should help us avoid the extremes of apocalypticism (“If Kerry (Bush) wins the world will end!!!”) and puritan sectarianism.

The London Spectator interviews conservative philosopher Roger Scruton:

Two issues stand out. ‘Europe — our legal autonomy, our right to govern ourselves’, and ‘immigration — our right to control our own borders, and to demand cultural assimilation of people who settle here. If the Conservative party were to make those its central policies, it would be a step back to its core beliefs and to recapturing its natural constituency.’ But will it be enough to win them the election, I wonder? No, he concedes, almost reluctantly. ‘But round the edges they build up the policies which will attract those useless, self-seeking people who don’t know how to vote till someone tells them it is in their interests.’ …



Is he a believer? Yes. ‘I’m also the local organist,’ he adds, proudly. So his faith is as much social and institutional as personal and spiritual? ‘It’s both. I’m a great admirer of the Anglican settlement, at least as it was. It was an attempt to put God at his ease — so that He is no longer a belligerent, rude intruder, but a peaceful presence to whom one can turn.’ That sounds like a God who doesn’t make many demands of you, I suggest. ‘All the demands are contained in the Lord’s Prayer, with that wonderful clause “forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us,” which is the only known solution to human conflict. It also distinguishes Christianity from Islam completely.’ …



Which brings us to Bush. Scruton thinks George W. is an ‘ordinary American oaf — therefore an adequate representative of a country comprising the same’. He wants him to win in November, however, for the same reason that made him a conservative in 1968: the people on the other side. ‘All the people I most despise hate him. I know nothing else so much in his favour as this. It’s enough.’ …



A final apophthegm is offered. Conservatism represents the desire of the English ‘to be at peace in the place which is theirs,’ says Roger Scruton, peacefully.

I care far more how humanity lives than how long. Progress, for me, means increasing goodness and happiness of individual lives. For the species, as for each man, mere longevity seems to me a contemptible ideal. — C. S. Lewis, God in the Dock

A Christian case for the humane treatment of animals:

…human abuse of their authority over animals is not sinful because of the suffering it causes animals but, rather, because of its rejection of God’s created order. The sin that takes place in modern factory farms today is not against pigs and chickens, but against God—for it was God who entrusted humanity with the care of creation and it is God whom we reject when we abuse that authority.

More.

From Jane Galt:

Smart growth is great if you are an upscale professional, preferably without children, who can score a relatively large apartment fairly close to work. It’s a lot less fun for the majority trying to cram your family into four or five rooms. Smart growth is great if you are savvy enough to manipulate an urban school system into keeping your children away from the poor kids; it is not so nice for the majority who must make do. Smart growth is great if you can afford to have everything you buy delivered, or are in excellent physical condition with a physically undemanding job; it is not so great if you have to come home from your shift at the nursing home to lug groceries a quarter-mile down the street, and then up three flights of stairs. Smart growth is great if you can afford to eat in the plethora of restaurants; it is not so enjoyable if you have to scrape up an extra 20% for the ingredients in tuna casserole. Smart growth is great if you have a nanny to take the kids to the park during the day; it is not so terrific if you have to choose between wasting several precious hours standing around the playground, or letting your kids languish inside. Smart growth is great if you can afford taxis when you need them; it is not so good if you are forced to take three busses to get somewhere you really need to be. Smart growth is great if your family members are all affluent enough to take care of themselves; it is not so fulfilling when you have to shove your ailing mother into the kids room when her resources fail.



More…

I have always been something of a contrarian. I don’t say this to brag, since I don’t regard it as necessarily a good thing. But I think it’s safe to say that people who know me well would agree that I frequently take certain positions partly out of a desire to disagree with those around me. Unanimity distresses me I guess. Perhaps it’s because I tend to think that intelligent people of good faith can come to opposite conclusions on contested issues. I’ve been reminded of this lately as the election season has heated up; nearly everyone I socialize with is vehemently anti-Bush. At a recent party, for instance, all in attendance expressed shock and disbelief that an absent acquaintance was an avowed Republican who plans to vote for Bush. The unthinking assumption among so many of my peers that no decent person could possibly support the President almost makes me want to vote for him. Almost.

That being said, contrariness is by no means an unalloyed virtue. While it’s certainly admirable to stand up for an unpopular view at times, contrariness can sometimes become an end in itself. You end up disagreeing for the sake of disagreeing, rather than sticking to a principled position. Sometimes it’s hard for the contrarian to take “yes” for an answer. He can become a reverse-conformist – someone whose opinions are determined by those around him because they dictate that he will take the position contrary to whatever the local consensus is. When surrounded by liberals he becomes a conservative, when surrounded by atheists he is a believer. He risks making his identity parasitic on others.

Still, there are certain pleasures inherent to the practice of contrariety. Here is an article from a few years ago by James Nuechterlein on his experience as a contrarian.