Here’s an interesting one, to Mrs. Edward A. Allen, February 1, 1958:
I quite agree with the Archbishop that no sin, simply as such, should be made a crime. Who the deuce are our rulers to enforce their opinions about sin on us? — a lot of professional politicians, often venal time-servers, whose opinion on a moral problem in one’s life we shd attach very little value to. Of course many acts which are sins against God are also injuries to our fellow citizens, and must on that account, but only on that account, be made crimes. But of all the sins in the world I shd have thought homosexuality was the one that least concerns the State. We hear too much of the State. Government is at its best a necessary evil. Let’s keep it in its place.
I don’t agree with Lewis that homosexuality is a sin, but his view here is pretty progressive all things considered. Elsewhere he talks about defending gay people from the interference of “snoopers and busybodies” (letter to Delmar Banner, May 27, 1960). It’s clear that one of the things Lewis loathed the most was the moral busybody; he wrote in God in the Dock that
of all tyrannies, a tyranny exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It may be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron’s cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience.
I think Lewis was in many ways an old-fashioned liberal who wanted the State to mind its own business and leave him to mind his. Here he’s enunciating a version of J.S. Mill’s harm principle: that the State is only justified in using force against someone to prevent harm to others.
This is a kind of libertarianism, or at least classical liberalism, but one based more on man’s fallen nature than on his intrinsic goodness like you get with the techno-utopian brand of libertarianism. Liberty is important not because people can be trusted to always do the right thing, but because it creates a sphere that protect us from other people’s moral certainties.
A couple more nuggets from Lewis’s letters:
To “Mrs Ashton”, November 8, 1952:
It is Christ Himself, not the Bible, who is the true word of God. The Bible, read in the right spirit and with the guidance of good teachers, will bring us to Him. When it becomes really necessary (i.e. for our spiritual life, not for controversy or curiosity) to know whether a particular passage is rightly translated or is myth (but of course myth specially chosen by God from among countless myths to carry a spiritual truth) or history, we shall no doubt be guided to the right answer. But we must not use the Bible (our fathers too often did) as a sort of Encyclopedia out of which texts (isolated from their context and not read with attention to the whole nature and purport of the books in which they occur) can be taken for use as weapons.
To Clyde S. Kilby, May 7, 1959:
To me the curious thing is that neither in own Bible-reading nor in my religious life as a whole does the question [of the inspiration of the Bible] in fact ever assume that importance which it always gets in theological controversy. The difference between reading the story of Ruth and that of Antigone — both first class as literature — is to me unmistakable and even overwhelming. But the question “Is Ruth historical?” (I’ve no reason to suppose it is not) doesn’t really seem to arise till afterwards. It can still act on me as the Word of God if it weren’t, so far as I can see. All Holy Scripture is written for our learning. But learning of what? I should have thought the value of some things (e.g. The Resurrection) depended on whether they really happened, but the value of others (e.g. the fate of Lot’s wife) hardly at all. And the ones whose historicity matters are, as God’s will, those where it is plain…
…That the over-all operation of Scripture is to convey God’s Word to the reader (he also needs his inspiration) who reads it in the right spirit, I fully believe. That it also gives true answers to all the questions (often religiously irrelevant) which he might ask, I don’t. The very kind of truth we are often demanding was, in my opinion, not even envisaged by the ancients.
In lieu of our weekly community group/Bible study, we attended the Solemn Mass for the Feast of the Ascension last night. Lovely as usual. The guest preacher was the Rev. Charles Hefling, a professor of theology at BC and editor of the Anglican Theological Review.
Fr. Hefling asked: why did Jesus leave? I have to admit this isn’t a question that really ever occurred to me, but it’s a darn good one. As part of an answer he quoted a line from Rowan Williams to the effect that, since Jesus is “the Way” he had to “get out of the way.” This is a clever way of saying that Jesus opened the door to our union and fellowship with God by reconciling us to God, but we now have to go through that door by treading the path he trod.
But this is only part of the answer because, Fr. Hefling pointed out, we can’t follow this way, at least not by ourselves. Following the way of the cross, the way of self-giving (and forgiving) love, doesn’t come naturally to us. This is why God sends the Holy Spirit. Jesus is God with us; the Spirit is God within us, empowering and enabling us to follow Jesus.
Saw an ad for this in the new First Things: Keith Ward (see here) has written a response of sorts to the “new atheist” crowd. I imagine it’s the usual kind of irenic, thoughtful stuff Ward is known for.
I’ve often thought that the whole issue of whether “religion” is on the whole good or bad is a pretty muddled one. In addition to the probably insoluble matter of deciding what exactly counts as a religion, there’s no religion-less society to act as a control group in determing whether the influence of religion has been on the whole good or bad. And beyond that it’s very difficult to see how you would weigh the moral improvements against the moral defects that are arguably attibutable to a particular religion. Was the Inquisition worth the outlawing of infanticide? and so on. Plus there’s the issue of casuality: how do we know what’s attributable to religion? For instance, several scholars, including secular ones, have made the case that modern science arose in the West in part precisely because of the Christian worldview. The idea of a God who creates a universe that displays a rational order served as an impetus to discovering that order. But such a hypothesis hardly admits of definitive proof one way or the other.
Bill Richardson’s energy plan gets a green thumbs up from the environmental site Grist:
As of today, Bill Richardson has become the boldest, most visionary Democratic presidential candidate on climate and energy policy.
Is Richardson the dark horse candidate here? Will Obama and Hillary fatigue have Democratic primary voters looking for an alternative early next year? He’s talked the most sense on Iraq, plus he’s got those hilarious ads:
Doug Bandow has an article worth reading on Christians and the Iraq war.
I think we see here one of the problems with Just War theory, a problem that many pacifists have pointed out, namely that it can be so flexible as to (rhetorically at least) justify virtually any war.
However, Just War adherents obviously think that pacifism is too high a price to pay for a bright, clear line about when to go to war. But Bandow articulates what some JW thinkers have called the presumption against the use of force:
Christians should be particularly humble before advocating war. War means killing, of innocent and criminal alike. It means destroying the social stability and security that creates an environment conducive for people to worship God, raise families, create communities, work productively, and achieve success – in short, to enjoy safe and satisfying lives. Wars rarely turn out as expected, and the unintended consequences, as in Iraq, often are catastrophic.
Indeed, in Iraq the U.S. has essentially killed hundreds of thousands of people in the name of humanitarianism. Christians, even more than their unbelieving neighbors, should be pained by the horror of sectarian conflict unleashed by the actions of their government with their support. Believers especially should eschew nationalistic triumphalism in pursuit of war. And when they err, like predicting health, wealth, liberty, and happiness in occupied Iraq, they should acknowledge fault – and seek forgiveness. At the very least they should exhibit humility before saddling their white horses to begin another crusade.
I tried to make a similar point here, specifically with respect to proposed humanitarian interventions. A lot depends on whether we see war as an extraordinary last resort, or as a routine tool of statecraft. Andrew Bacevich and others have argued that Americans have come to see war as the latter, with disastrous results. And Bandow is surely right the Christians, even if they’re not pacifists, should be wary of war and set the bar high for supporting it.
The debate kerfuffle between Ron Paul and Rudy Giuliani over the question of the causes behind the 9/11 attacks has generated a fair amount of comment. I think Paul got the better of the exchange and Giuliani came across as a bit of a demagogue, but it’s still worth asking whether Paul is right here.
Talking about the connection between our interventionist foreign policy and “blowback” in the form of terrorism has been the genuine third rail of US politics over the last 5+ years. What I didn’t hear Paul say was that we in any way deserved the 9/11 attacks. This is the canard frequently used against people who try to explain the motives of the terrorists with reference to US foreign policy. But there’s a big difference between explaining something and justifying it. Saying that OBL and co. want to attack us because we’re “over there” as Paul puts it does not imply that they were right to do so.
My view has been that our interventions in the Middle East are at least a contributing factor in Islamist terrorism and the 9/11 attacks. I don’t want to discount the role of Islamic extremism, as some leftists and anti-war conservatives seem to do. The former often advert to sheerly economic or political explanations, while the latter sometimes fixate on the role of Israel. Nevertheless, as Paul pointed out in the debate, bin Laden and his confederates have explicitly said that they attacked us because of our presence over there. It would be extremely foolish to disregard their own account of their motives, even if it’s not the full story.
An important component, I would think, of any sound strategy against terrorism would be to “peel off” potential supporters of terrorist groups by listening to their concerns about our presence in the region. Granted there are a hard core of radicalized jihadists who will be swayed by nothing, terrorist groups seem to thrive only when they have some kind of support from the larger public. Presumably one of the reasons the IRA was able to carry on its campaigns for so long was that there were people not directly involved who at least sympathized to some degree. Paul is surely right that it’s important to ask how we would feel if some other country was meddling in our affairs like we do in the Middle East (and elsewhere).
And even apart from the question of blowback, we need to ask whether our interventions are a) good for the US on the whole and in the long run and b) morally legitimate. Even if Osama bin Laden didn’t oppose it, there’s still reason to doubt whether US forces should’ve be stationed in Saudi Arabia, just like there’s a legitimate question whether our forces should remain stationed in Iraq. And the fact that it would likely make the Iranian people dislike us even more (possibly leading to terrorist reprisals) is not the only reason to doubt the wisdom of attacking Iran to prevent the government there from acquiring nuclear weapons.
Conservatives have reacted (at times understandably) against the leftist litany of American misdeeds, but this has all too often spilled over into an uncritical approval of everything the US does or has ever done. If conservatism means anything it means dealing with reality as it is, not as you would wish it to be. At least the kinds of conservative thinkers I’ve always found congenial are those who criticize simplistic, utopian, and ideological thinking. Repeating the mantra that “they hate us because we’re free” won’t help us understand our enemies and ultimately deal more intelligently with them.
Moreover, Christians of all people should be able to look unflinchingly at their own sins. We don’t need to pretend that we, individually or collectively, are free from fault. Believing in the power of forgiveness ought to enable us to look honestly at our own failings and those of our country, without sliding into self-loathing. We shouldn’t have to fear acknowledging them and, if necessary, changing course. That’s part of what I think Christians should bring to the civic conversation, especially when political parties seem institutionally committed to an uncritical nationalism.
A Thinking Reed 