Category: Uncategorized

The American Conservative has a write-up by Bill Kauffman on the Second Vermont Republic – a secessionist movement aimed at getting Vermont out of the U.S.A., which I’ve mentioned before (The first Vermont Republic existed from 1777 to 1791 according to the SVR’s website.).

Kauffman describes the ideological orientation of the group:

Although SVR members range from hippie greens to gun owners—and among the virtues of Vermont is that the twain do sometimes meet—[founder Thomas] Naylor describes his group’s ideological coloration as “leftish libertarian with an anarchist streak.”

The SVR lauds the principles and practices of direct democracy, local control of education and health care, small-scale farming, neighborhood enterprise, and the devolution of political power. The movement is anti-globalist and sees beauty in the small. It detests Wal-Mart, the Interstate Highway System, and a foreign policy that is “immoral, illegal, and unconstitutional.” It draws inspiration from, among others, Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, who in bidding farewell to his neighbors in Cavendish, Vermont, where he had lived in exile for 17 years, praised “the sensible and sure process of grassroots democracy, in which the local population solves most of its problems on its own, not waiting for the decisions of higher authorities.”

Naylor likes to say that Wal-Mart, which is “too big, too powerful, too intrusive, too mean-spirited, too materialistic, too dehumanizing, too undemocratic, too environmentally insensitive, and too unresponsive to the social, cultural, and economic needs of individual citizens and small communities,” is the American metaphor in these post-republic days. Perhaps it is. So why not a new metaphor, suggests Naylor: that of Vermont, which is “smaller, more rural, more democratic, less violent, less commercial, more egalitarian, and more independent” than its sister states?

Green – You believe that small economic units
should control the goods, and that the
government should be permissive of
“victimless crimes,” respectful of
civil liberties and very strict towards big
business. You also believe in either a
socialist tax structure or more power to local
communities. You think that environmental
policies should be written into law. Your
historical role model is Ralph Nader.

Which political sterotype are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

(quiz via Brandon)

In an essay called “Hearts Set to Obey” published in the journal Dialog (Spring, 2004 issue – not online I’m afraid), Gilbert Meilaender argues for a less “dialectical” version of Lutheranism that has room for growth in holiness in the Christian life. He contrasts this with a type of Lutheran theology that tends to separate theology from ethics by conceiving grace solely as pardon (i.e. forgiveness of sins), without making room for grace as power (i.e. the empowerment for real growth in righteousness).

Meilaender worries that in some Lutheran quarters the dialectic of Law and Gospel (the Law accuses, then the Gospel offers pardon; repeat as necessary) has been elevated into a principle that structures all of Christian theology, squeezing out the life of discipleship. But any theology that does this, he thinks, is seriously deficient as a Christian theology, because it can’t account for an important aspect of the Christian life. “We need a theology that does not invite us to act as if the incarnation, cross, and empty tomb have done nothing new and transforming in human history.”

Recall, now, where the Lutheran Confessional writings–and Lutheranism–may leave us: with two contrasting depictions of the way grace works in our lives to make us righteous before God. According to one formulation, God’s grace is a power working within us, bringing us ever more fully into that holiness of life without which no one will see the Lord. This holiness is not a condition for communion with God; rather, it is simply a description of what we must become before we can really want to be in God’s presence. According to the second formulation, grace is not power but pardon. It is the word of forgiveness and acceptance to which we must return in faith again and again.

Meilaender suggests that a solution is to see power and pardon as two aspects of or angles “from which to describe the one work of God in Christ, reconciling the world to himself”:

These are different ways of describing how God’s Spirit draws our lives into the story of Jesus. The language of pardon addresses a truth of our experience–the continuing lure of sin. The language of power articulates the truth of reality–that God is at work, fulfilling his promise to turn sinners into saints.

Which word is appropriate will depend on our situation. At times we need to hear the assurance of forgiveness, and at others the word of empowerment that comes from the fact that we have been freed from bondage to sin. Though the outcome is certain, we still have to tread the path. Meilaender quotes Luther’s metaphor of the sick man who, while promised a cure and certain recovery, still obeys the doctor’s orders “so that he may in no way hinder the promised return to health or incrase his sickness until the doctor can fulfill his promise to him.” In this perspective the imputation of righteousness is seen as God’s promise that we will be made righteous, substantially and not just forensically.

This view allows for a more positive role for the moral law and the example of Jesus in giving content to the Christian life (which seems to comport better with much of the language of the New Testament as well as the common experience of many Christians). I for one have always been somewhat puzzled by the Lutheran dialectic, and Meilaender’s view makes more intuitive sense to me. This could be in part because Meilaender has been significantly influenced by C.S. Lewis (see, e.g. his book A Taste for the Other), and I more or less cut my theological teeth (to the extent they’ve been cut!) by reading Lewis (and I have been accused of being a crypto-Anglican!). As an example of this, Meilaender’s statement that we need to be transformed into the kind of people who will want to be in God’s presence echoes Lewis’s book The Great Divorce, as well as some of the reasoning that led Lewis to embrace the idea of purgatory.

Stephen H. Webb, author of some excellent books on Christianity, food, and animals, reviews a book advocating a kosher diet(!) for Christians. Webb deems the author, Hope Egan, a “neo-Ebionite.” Egan argues, rather strangely, that the dietary laws from Leviticus are still in force for Christians, apparently, at least in part, because they represent the divinely-sanctioned road to health.

Like Webb, I am, at best, a demi-vegetarian. In the nearly two years since I’ve gone veggie I’ve probably eaten meat fewer than a dozen times, so I’m obviously not super-strict about it (most recently I fell off the wagon at Thanksgiving dinner, enjoying some delicious smoked turkey!). And I eat fish regularly.

So, I think Webb gets it right at the end of his review:

Some theologians (disclaimer: I am one of them) argue that the kosher laws have more theological than medical significance. Sacrificial regulations mediate the original vegetarianism of the Garden of Eden and the Prophets’ anticipation of the peaceable kingdom. In this perspective, some form of vegetarianism is a diet of hope and a witness to God’s plan for the world. But Egan believes we should refrain from eating pork and shellfish simply because that is God’s design for healthy living. This was disappointing news for me, because I reward my (usual) abstention from meat with many opportunities to eat plenty of tasty shrimp, on the grounds that they feel no pain. According to Egan’s interpretation of Leviticus, however, shrimp are scavengers and thus dangerous carriers of disease.

What’s a conscientious Christian eater to do: embrace the Torah, eat meat as an expression of humankind’s dominion over nature, or give up meat as a protest against factory farming? Egan thinks we will eat hamburgers in heaven derived from humanely raised, organically fed, and biblically slaughtered cows. I doubt that, but I also admit that if the Bible favors a vegetarian diet, it does so in a subtle and modest way. The question of a Christian diet cannot be resolved by appealing to the Torah, our right to use animals, or their rights to be protected from us. We have to begin with Christ, and wherever we end, we need to be subtle and modest about our dietary claims.

Interesting (if cursory) article on N.T. Wright and the “new perspective” on Paul from the Wall Street Journal:

[Wright] contends that the leaders of the Protestant Reformation–Martin Luther especially–misread St. Paul on the subject of justification by faith. A self-described Reformed theologian, he proposes nothing less than a reformation of the Reformation, 500 years on–and he does so by appealing to the Reformers’ own motto, sola scriptura, “going back to scripture over against all human tradition.”

[…]

So what is at stake in this theological argument? “The doctrine of justification is the doctrine of the Reformation,” says the distinguished Princeton Seminary theologian Bruce McCormack. Justification as it was taught to me and my fellow young Protestants a generation ago amounted to this: Catholics believed in salvation by works–doing good in your earthly life would help win you a place in heaven–but we Protestants, following Luther, knew that we were “saved by grace…through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast.” Those words, from Paul’s letter to the Ephesian church, expressed the very heart of the gospel, which Luther had recovered. And there was a parallel, we were taught, between the Catholic belief and the works-righteousness of the Pharisees, so uncompromisingly exposed by Jesus as mere outward show, divorced from inner virtue.

But for generations of Protestants, long before Dr. Wright, nagging questions remained. The Reformed emphasis on justification appeared to diminish the meaning of a life lived in obedience to Christ. Didn’t James write–in a letter Luther wanted to drop from the New Testament–that faith without works is dead? And sure enough, one perennial problem of evangelical culture has been an overwhelming attention to “getting saved,” while another has been a rigid legalism (don’t dance, don’t drink, don’t play cards), smuggling works-righteousness in via the back door.

So, is Wright right? And, if so, should we heirs of the Reformation pack it in?

Mark LeVine writes that the Christian Peacemaker Teams, several members of which are currently being held hostage in Iraq, are a model of what the anti-war movement should be about.

(See Leaving Muenster for updates on the CPT hostages.)

That’s what Miroslav Volf asks about the rhetoric of the Christian Right (and Left).

Lutheran theologian Ted Peters states the obvious (or, at least I always thought it was pretty obvious):

I hang out with those so-called theistic evolutionists. We tend to think scientists are pretty smart. In fact, many of my colleagues are research scientists, even evolutionary biologists. We are convinced that the neo-Darwinian model of random genetic variation combined with natural selection provides the most adequate explanation for the development of life forms.

But my friends and colleagues are also religious, mostly Christian but with some other faiths mixed in. We think religious people can be pretty smart too. What is so important and what gets missed too often when the media covers the evolution wars is this: To be a Christian does not require that one be anti-Darwinian.

It’s very possible that one could embrace the science of the Darwinian tradition and also embrace a Christian understanding of God at work in the natural world. I believe that God has used the evolution of life over deep time to serve a divine purpose for creation. This requires distinguishing between the strictly scientific Darwinian model and the atheism and related ideologies that have frequently been associated with evolution. The science is solid.

What annoys me the most about the “intelligent design” controversy is that complex theological, scientific, and philosophical issues get reduced to culture war “boundary markers” that are supposed to separate the sheep from the goats (who’s who depends on which side you’re on). The idea that this of all things would be what distinguishes “true” Christians from wishy-washy theological liberals* just strikes me as absurd.
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*Anglican philosopher Peter Van Inwagen once wrote of having a conversation with a fundamentalist-turned-logical-positivist (!) wherein Van Inwagen asked if he considered St. Augustine to be a “wishy-washy theological liberal” since he clearly read the opening chapters of Genesis non-literally and believed in a development of life forms. The logical positivist said yes!

The story that several of the larger evangelical megachurches are opting not to have services on Christmas this year has been making the rounds, provoking quite a bit of outrage that they are selling out to the culture and promoting an “idolatry of the family” (see this Internet Monk post for a good collection of comments (via Camassia)).

Today’s Inquirer carried the story and this bit jumped out at me:

Cally Parkinson, a spokeswoman for Willow Creek Community Church in South Barrington, Ill., said church leaders decided that organizing services on a Christmas Sunday would not be the most effective use of staff and volunteer resources. The last time Christmas fell on a Sunday was 1994, and only a small number of people showed up to pray, she said.

“If our target and our mission is to reach the unchurched, basically the people who don’t go to church, how likely is it that they’ll be going to church on Christmas morning?” she said.

Two things here. First, “reach[ing] the unchurched” is presumably not an end in itself is it? I mean, once you’ve got them what do you do with them? The whole point can’t be to reach the unchurched “seeker”; you have to be reaching them for something.

Which leads to the second point – there seems to be a confusion between (or conflation of) worship and evangelism here. They aren’t the same thing. The worship of God is an end in itself and shouldn’t be thought of as instrumental to some other goal like “reaching the unchurched.” In the ancient church, the catechumen (those seeking to join the church) were actually dismissed during part of the liturgy prior to the eucharist (the Orthodox church still retains the “dismissal of the catechumen” in its liturgy I believe, but I don’t think non-members are actually expected to depart anymore).

This clearly shows that worship has its own telos that isn’t directly related to evangelism. Although my experience of the megachurch style of worship is limited, I fear this attitude reveals a tendency to make the church service a kind of performance for the sake of those in attendance, rather than an act of worship directed at God.

From Slate (via the Japery):

A study says people who have one alcoholic drink a day are 54 percent less obesity-prone than teetotalers are. (But those with four or more drinks a day are 46 percent more obesity-prone.) Another study indicates that among people who weigh too much or drink too much alcohol, those who drink more than two cups of coffee a day are only half as prone to chronic liver disease. Each study involved more than 8,000 people. Cynical take: Wash out your fat with liquor, then rinse out your liquor with coffee.

The perfect diet?