Isn't it time for them to sojourn out of here?

The Democratic Party's defense of the SCHIP bill would be ironic in light of their radical defense of all forms of abortion, except that it's completely unintentional, and thus nothing more than an addendum to the volumes of ideological blunders we've come expect from our friends in blue. Of course, Jim Wallis is upset, but then again Mr. Wallis makes the late Jerry Falwell look like a paragon of theological interpretation and rationalism.

Revolution

I am in a couple of courses that are outside the modern Europeanists field, and they've been productively challenging some of the tacit assumptions that modernists and early modernists make about their fields. In fact I've already heard medievalists claiming that they had the foundations of empirical science, capitalism, rationalism, and a whole host of "modern" concepts back in their period. To the degree that I've studied a handful of topics I am inclined to agree. In fact it might be wise to suggest that in the history of humanity, there has been but one revolution.

The real threat of the [Social] Democrats' policies is not so much the policies in themselves. They are so bogus that they are bound to fail. Then, after infecting a yet larger portion of the population with entitlementitis, their plans will fail and the people will want better programs and more programs. More politicians will make more hubristic guarantees which will then fail. By then, Americans will be ready for anything, but they will most likely look to a single individual who can pull the country out of the downward spiral. The Roman Republic. The French Directory. The German Weimar Reichstag.

If the Democrats win, I predict the creation of a leader cult (before the leader arrives, mind you) by 2040. Care to make a wager?

Handouts

A few years back I worked for an independent grocer who made the point of treating his customers with the utmost respect. I usually worked in backstock or on the register, but on rare occasions I would bag groceries and carry them out. If the customer had several bags we would offer to help them to their car.

One afternoon I asked an older woman if she would like a hand out with her groceries. She thought I used "handout" to mean some financial assistance in purchasing her goods. She became rather irritated and it took a manager to explain the communication breakdown.

I used to think she was crazy, but reflecting on it, I think people like her are disturbingly rare.

A Rusty Aluminum Age

The letters of Paul are letters to people with serious problems: disunity (1 Corinthians), sexual distortion (2 Corinthians), heresy and doctrinal confusion (Galatians, Colossians, 2 Thessalonians), social confusion (Ephesians), racial misunderstanding and doctrinal intolerance (Romans), to name a few.

Some passages are almost embarrassing in their admission of glaring faults in the lives of Christians. I shudder to think that someday someone might discover some letter of mine written to friends containing descriptions similar to the disunity and depravity of the Corinthian church, or the tensions that rocked Timothy's struggling congregation.

Numerous scholars have (rightly) spoken of the 'golden age' of the first-century church as a myth. Instead, we would do better to see it as a rusty aluminum age, like a pile of discarded bicycles sitting in the rain, with various parts removed.

Thus, here is Pauline theology in a nutshell: humans need God's grace.

Pensées

9. I was discussing the Reformation briefly with a professor, who suggested that one way to understand that moment was as the triumph of plain speech over analogy. Generally, this is a true statement, but it can be misleading. In doing away with some of the excess analogies of the Catholic church, reformers hoped to highlight the central analogy of Scripture to which all other ideas must submit. That analogy is that God, throughout history, has been restoring humanity to personal fellowship with himself. Christ sealed this in his atonement, and it is applied to believers through the workings and intercession of the Holy Spirit. We understand this because of the Church, over which Christ reigns as the true head of the church. To suggest that a man is the head of the Church is to take a step in the wrong direction. If we're going to return to the usefulness of analogy in understanding Christianity, it's got to start there.

Pensées

8. You've got to hand it to the emergent church. They've managed to hook people in with the idea that they're "emerging" from the ruins of modernist Christianity, when instead they're staying in those exact same ruins. This isn't surprising, because it's exactly what postmodernism did to modernism in general. Consider:

It is ironic that postmodernists, who distinguish themselves by a refusal of high theory and grand narrative, have to jimmy modernity into an epochal straightjacket in order to claim to have moved beyond it.

- Frederick Cooper, Colonialism in Question: Theory, Knowledge, History, 19.

What the emergent church has performed is the illusion of a major shift; in reality they've changed the packaging of the message, but hardly any of the meaningful content. Where the modern church aesthetic consisted of corportate colors, straight lines and right angles, and sports arena-style sanctuaries, the postmodern church aesthetic consists of hip, alternative colors, crooked lines and varied angles, and meeting areas that resemble your local coffee shop. But the differences end at the aesthetic level. You'll still find the quasi-worship that dumbs the mind and numbs the heart; you'll still hear sermons that will claim to fix some aspect of your life but really won't, and you'll still find the same disregard for covenant, baptism, and Eucharist as in modernist churches. My friend Steven sent me a video in which a pastor and a member figured they should do communion, and wondered what that might look like.

The emergent church is right about the need to embrace postmodernism, but they get the point wrong. N.T. Wright hits the nail on the head when he says that a grasp of postmodernism is needed to cleanse the church of corrupting modern influences. The point of such baptisms is neither to continue being baptised or return to uncleanliness, but to embrace and dwell in union with Christ. That is the real way to get out of this mess.

Pensées - Legalism and Rules of the Camp

7. Many people seem to have the idea that camp rules are legalistic, particularly for camp counselors and other staff members. All sorts of behaviors and dress styles are prohibited, and behaviors must be assumed on entering camp grounds. These rules are generally much more stringent than the rules outside the camp, and so they seem to be legalistic. Whatever legalism might be as defined by Scripture I'm not for certain, but I think the common use of the term means an overemphasis on the law that approaches the notion of salvation by personal works. The people who accuse others of legalism have at the center of their statement a love for the gospel. Yet this gospel is only a fairy tale unless it spurs us on to good deeds towards other human beings, and so in defending the gospel against legalism some people forget that Paul mentions the heart's response with good works to the Gospel. Yes, Paul does mention works and grace in the same literary breath. I think camp rules can be strict, and yet be focused on encouraging loving, Gospel-centered relationships. This might be pietism, but I don't think I would use the L-bomb.

Market musings

I was celebrating my grandparents' 50th wedding anniversary with a stint in Vancouver, Canada, and a cruise of the Alaskan coastline.

As I am prone to do when in cities, I walked around downtown Vancouver every night I was there. I was astonished at how many homeless people lived there. Every time I turned a corner it seemed like I saw a couple more homeless people. I have been to NYC and Chicago and I noticed homeless people there, but nothing nearly on the scale of this phenomenon in British Columbia. Austin has a significant homeless population as well, but even our numbers were dwarfed. Some cities become havens for homeless people, who move from city to city, exploring the various agencies that will feed and clothe them. Then I found a clue:



If you can't make it out, the title on the door reads "The Ministry of Employment and Economic Assistance." Vancouver seems just as interested in Orwellian terms as is our own government, with our own latest hits including the PATRIOT Act and the No Child Left Behind Act of 2001. I also thought the anteroom looked like something out of Kafka's parable, Vor dem Gesetz.

It would be a mistake to assume that I oppose the results of government assistance organizations. I do question, however, that assumption that the government is doing the best job of helping homeless people out, and if in fact it is not hurting job opportunities for individuals. These sorts of bureaucratic organizations are stopgaps at best, and there are only so many stopgaps that a government can afford (even when it's taxing its taxpayers through the eyes).

Lew Rockwell wrote a nice article about the first month of liberty, a thirty-day transition to a free market economy. Check it out here.

I am gearing up for graduate courses which start Wednesday. I won't be taking any Modern European courses, but I have purchased a few books on the Weimar Republic at a professor's recommendation. We all know that this welfare state crumbled under the weight of the oppressive Treaty of Versailles; but it should be interesting to explore some of the other economic areas as well. I just bought von Mises' Human Action, Socialism, and The Anti-Capitalist Mentality, so it should be nice to read them in conjunction.

I might be more active on the blog as school gets going and the gears get turning; frankly I'm suprised I managed to post after a 10 day vacation . . . from vacation. I'm taking a course on Demonology and Witchcraft (seriously, and I just started reading the Harry Potter series), so hopefully you'll pick up some musings on that as well.

The Human Side of Austrian Economics

Jim Fedako has a great post Forgotten at the Door on the Mises blog. He does a great job explaining the importance of recognizing individuals the way Austrian economists and libertarians do. For all the statist's talk about helping people, he is only helping one imagined group and hurting everyone else. As Ron Paul explains, we need not be concerned with women's rights, gay rights, or minority rights. There should only be individual rights for real individuals, not collective rights for imagined groups.

In addition to writing for Mises.org, Jim Fedako has an excellent blog of his own, Anti-Positivist. I have taken the liberty of adding it to the links list.

Thoughts and Quotations

I'm not sure if Stephen and Ben have felt similarly, but I've wanted to post some thoughts, or perhaps quotations, but they weren't developed into an essay, much like our traditional posts have been. I'll wager they have, though, and I'll start the trend. In true Pensées style, I'll even number them.

1. The doctrine of the Trinity is one of the most important categories for understanding how human beings should relate. Our Triune God exists as one fully unified entity, yet existing in three eternal and distinct, operating in perfect harmony. If we adopted this platform as the basis for our human interactions, we would guard against both evils hyper-individualism and extreme collectivism. Much like splitting the atom, erring in either direction would release two mushrooms in the styles of polytheism or Mormonesque monotheism.

2. I do not know whether the doctrine of the Trinity is more important than the Gospel for relating to others, but I am inclined to that belief, because the Trinity is the source of the Gospel itself. I don't think many would argue that the Gospel created the Trinity.

3. "It is not possible to collapse tastes or time schedules onto one curve and call it consumer preference. Why? Because economic value is subjective to the individual." - Lew Rockwell, in "Why Austrian Economics Matters".

4. "Grant that somehow the government can spot a market failure, the burden of proof is still on the government to demostrate that it can perform the task more efficiently than the market. Austrians [meaning, the economic perspective] would refocus the energy that goes into finding market failures to understanding more about government failures." - ibid.

5. "Far from increasing total welfare, redistributionism diminshes it. By making property and its value less secure, income transfers lessen the benefits of ownership and production, and thus lower the incentives to both." - ibid.

6. "Austrians would eliminate deposit insurance, and not only allow bank runs to occur, but appreciate their potential as a necessary check. There would be no lender of last resort that is, the taxpayer in an Austrian monetary regrime, to bail out bankrupt and illiquid institutions." - ibid.

Exercising Liturgical Resistance

I met Steven Wedgeworth at RUF's Summer Conference in 2004. I was a freshman and he was on track to graduate in a year. Through the years we've kept in touch, and he is currently at Reformed Theological Seminary in Jackson, pursuing Masters of Divinity studies. If Cerberus had a list of heat-seekers, he'd be charted for sure. He also blogs at Wedgewords, and you'll find the link on the sidebar. Steven wrote a guest article on a topic related to some of the political discussion here, and I'm sure you'll enjoy it.

“Rebellion to tyranny is obedience to God.” - Never has a motto so stirred emotion and instilled action among conservative Christians. This slogan, combined with the Huguenot political tract Vindiciae Contra Tyrannos, was highly influential in both the American war for independence from Great Britain and the second war for independence against the dreaded North.

Ok, that second title is a little tongue-in-cheek, but it is undeniable that both major wars on America’s soil were deeply connected to religious as well as political though. The interesting, perhaps surprising fact, however, is that the slogan “Rebellion to tyranny is obedience to God” finds its origin not in Calvin and Knox, but rather Jefferson and Franklin. Indeed, when one inspects Calvin’s political thought a very different conclusion is reached.

Vehemently anti-democratic, Calvin affirms a conservative theocratic position that states that the magistrate, regardless of personal piety or justice, has been instilled with genuine authority from God. Citing Romans 13:1, 2 and 1 Peter 2:13, Calvin soundly declares that the King is a minister of God. In the face of protest, Calvin has this to say:

It may, however, be objected here and said, that kings and magistrates often abuse their power, and exercise tyrannical cruelty rather than justice. Such were almost all the magistrates, when this Epistle was written. To this I answer, that tyrants and those like them, do not produce such effects by their abuse, but that the ordinance of God ever remains in force, as the institution of marriage is not subverted though the wife and the husband were to act in a way not becoming them. However, therefore, men may go astray, yet the end fixed by God cannot be changed. (Commentary on 1 Peter 2:13)

On the other hand, Calvin was no mere absolutist, and he likewise turns the Scriptures back on the King to assert that since he is a minister of God, he is bound to God’s law. The State’s highest goal is to protect the proper worship of God and promote the justice and peace so that the gospel may be freely preached. Calvin was no secularist.

In Calvin’s political theory, the individual citizen expresses dissent primarily through prayer. He is not free to rebel or to engage in civil disobedience, however, he can bring imprecations against oppressive rulers. The fact that some may find this inadequate today perhaps says as much about the contemporary low view of prayer and worship as it does about Calvin’s failure of nerve.

He did, however, allow for the so-called “lesser magistrates” to defend the rights of the oppressed. This concept was picked up again by Samuel Rutherford in the 17th century when he wrote his apology for Scotland’s defensive wars against England, Lex Rex. Writing at the dawn the social-contract theories, Rutherford insisted that the King is in covenant with God, and thus upon violation of the terms of the covenant, the King forfeits his authority.
It is to be noted, though, that Rutherford does not simply call for citizen revolt, but rather he insists that the local officials have the right to enforce the law upon the King. Civilians are allowed the right of self-defense and are free to refuse religious coercion, but they are not given license to break the law.

Perhaps as we move to America we can gain a little perspective as to how rebellion was received. Political theory had advanced since Calvin’s day, and the very structure of society was undergoing major change. The colonies viewed themselves as having their own lesser magistrates, and thus as the King broke covenant, they were just in enforcing negative sanctions. The South was certainly of this mind in the 19th century, as each state understood itself to possess sovereignty.

The question of civil disobedience today, however, usually concerns individuals. In this regard we must emphasize Calvin’s seeming aristocratic disdain as actually quite in keeping with the Biblical concept of submission. As Peter’s first epistle shows, submitting to civil officers follows the same pattern of slaves submitting to masters and wives submitting to husbands (sorry for the context ladies! 1 Peter 3:1). To put a more positive emphasis on this, submission ought to be grounded in the Trinity, as the Son freely submits to the Father. This is not a question of ontology, but rather of order. So likewise our respective submitting and ruling ought to be characterized by love. This, of course, finds great difficulty in godless states.

When the magistrate is not ruling out of love, we are still to submit. We are always allowed the right of self-defense and religious dissent, but in the civil realm we are not to seize authority.

America’s governmental system provides us some assistant of course, and for this we can be thankful. In many respects, democracy makes the individual a type of lesser magistrate. He carries out his vengeance in the voting booth and even in those, often very effective, James Dobson mailing lists.

I would like to return to Calvin’s suggestion of prayer though and go further in expounding the theme of liturgical warfare, perhaps adding a little more “muscle” to our concept of spiritual resistance.

In order to find the notion of prayer as resistance satisfactory to our activist cravings, we should consider the way in which God grants vengeance (Rom. 12:19, Rev. 6:10). Paul, quoting Solomon, says that when we feed our enemies, we heap burning coals on their heads (Rom. 12: 20). What are we to make of this? Is this “spiritual talk”?

As one studies the Hebraic background for this, he quickly understands just how “earthy” this concept is. Psalm 3: 7 speaks of Yahweh breaking the teeth of the ungodly. Psalm 10: 2 asks God to cause the wicked men’s plots to backfire. Psalm 21 pleas for multigenerational judgment. Psalm 109: 6 even asks that Satan be set up as the wicked’s judge.

As we read the Revelation of St. John with this Hebraic understanding of liturgical warfare, we see that all heaven breaks loose when the saints bring their prayers before the Lord. The cosmos is engaged in warfare, and vengeance- real vengeance- is the Lord’s.

It is certainly true that good citizens are well within their rights to engage in lawful activism. We can make petitions, write congressman, even hold public gatherings, but when it comes to violent resistance against the government, Christians should conduct this sort of warfare in the Spirit. Our weapons are not carnal swords and guns. They are actually much more devastating. The Church holds the power over generations, and is entrusted with the baptism of the nations. It is not a political entity, but neither is it a-political. The Psalter is a great place to begin, and the congregation of the faithful is always marching are the Church militant on earth. Our message is more than political. It is cosmic.

There is another king, Jesus.

Constitutional Limitation of Alabama's Government

Alabama residents should find this particularly interesting.

Article I, Section 35 of the Constitution of Alabama states, "That the sole object and only legitimate end of government is to protect the citizen in the enjoyment of life, liberty, and property, and when the government assumes other functions it is usurpation and oppression."

Endgames

The major topic of the 2008 Presidential Elections seems to be the war in Iraq, or issues related to that overarching argument, whether it's torture, the PATRIOT Act, or the concept of wire-tapping. Only two of the candidates for the Republican and Democrat parties voted against the Iraq War and the Patriot Act, with individuals like Barack Obama not having served in the legislature at the time of the vote. Nearly everyone else has openly supported the war at some point in their careers, and many continue to support it still.

There are a variety of endgames which could occur, depending on which candidate is elected.

If a mainstream Republican wins, the war will most likely continue with a blue legislature demanding benchmarks. An unlikely event would involve an invasion of Iran. As much as the mainstreamers hate Iran, if they're mainstream they hopefully have enough political savvy to realize we all might riot at that point. If a mainstreamer wins, I'm going to practice tying bandanas on my face. Humor aside, this second option would almost guarantee that the Republican party would become unelectable for a time.

Mainstream Democrats are a bit harder to call. One pundit, and I forget who it was, suggested three ending scenarios for Democrats and Iraq. The second is that Democrat is elected on a withdrawal platform, and faced with all of the information about Iraq, switches positions and uses the benchmarks idea, but keeps our troops in the area (and perhaps even surges). This could really gum up the party, and it would be interesting to see what would happen to our blue friends as a result.

The second possibility is that a Democrat withdraws the troops and permits Iraq to have a civil war (and we just don't see enough of those these days). If troops are withdrawn, we can certainly expect this to happen. The resulting conflict would then be blamed on Democrats for withdrawing, not for Bush's invasion, and that would be a credible assessment. This would render the Democrats, like any Iran-invading Republicans, in a supremely unelectable position.

The third option, if I remember it correctly, is that Democrats would withdraw and Iraq would get it together. Since we've established a democracy (an irony in itself), it is highly unlikely that Iraqis would get behind a political tradition almost completely foreign to their regional history.

Other possibilities would involve breaking Iraq up into three districts for Kurdish, Sunni, and Shia Muslims. Dennis Kucinich, the other Congressman in the running, also has a somewhat detailed plan for withdrawing.

When it comes to the war, I have a harder time accepting Ron Paul's approach than any of his other ideas. He advocates a quick troop withdrawal. He thinks that our military presence keeps lesser extremists in check, but at the same time it keeps Iraqi politicians from taking steps towards independence or even decent responsibility. If we withdraw, Paul suggests, the Iraqis will have to govern themselves because of the grizzly alternative. I'm not sure that this concept is present in the minds of the Iraqi public. Between dictatorial rule for a couple of decades and Islamic traditions that usually have monarchic/theocratic rule, I doubt self-interest will enter into the equation for your average Iraqi citizen.

In short, I'm still not sold on any Iraq war plan. I don't like the idea of staying there, but there are a lot of risks involved in leaving. I do think we invaded a sovereign nation under false allegations, or failing those WMD-charges, poor rationale. While the functional history might judge George W. Bush as a decent president for offing a dictator, ideological types like myself will still be nauseated for quite some time.

Dangerous History

"The gospel narratives are historical." - Yes, but in what sense do they offer us history? While seeming to be historical, they take on a very religious character as well. One might think that they offer us history as a backdrop for the religious meanings merely; one might think alternatively that that the gospel narratives offer us history merely, leaving the religious meanings as colossal hostages to fortune. So in what sense do the gospel narratives offer us history? Because this question, in our society at least, is bound up with questions of how they offer us religious meanings, we perhaps can see that the two questions can share one and the same answer. Or perhaps not. But I wish that the following be construed, not as an answer to either question or even to both, but as an answer based on one question that can be asked in two different ways. That question may or may not bet he same for everyone.

The gospels do not offer us history in the way that a window offers a view. Looking out at the window next to me I can see a green field with tall trees growing in an beside, and across the street there are more trees on one side, and buildings on the other. The trees are moving in the wind, especially the younger ones. It is easy -- in fact, I did this without at first realizing what I was doing -- to take this scene as a template for my own scene: I fill in details such as temperature, humidity, and the mood of the human members of the scene with my own ideals. Depending on which details I supply and how I supply them, the scene can be anywhere on the spectrum from idyllic to unattractive. But whatever I do, I turn the view from the window into something only like the experience I would have were I actually outside in the sweltering heat and amid the fumes of automobiles. There is nothing particularly wrong in this instance with projecting myself onto the scene in this way (it can even enhance ones enjoyment of particular aspects of the scene, such as the swaying of the trees in the wind, for example), as long as I refrain from insisting that my friend imagine the scene his eyes bring him to be a certain temperature, while he prefers to imagine another. But the gospels do not offer us history in this way, in the way a window offers us a view of a scene.

I have heard a man remark that one can turn philosophy into the study of the (mere) history of philosophy, thereby removing its "fangs". To be sure there are pictures of fangs, but nothing that bites. This surely is an accurate picture of what might happen when we study someone like Moses Maimonides or Avicenna. Even the study of figures who still have great influence today can be defanged -- read an encyclopedia article on , say, Muhammad or Wittgenstein. It is possible even to produce a story of Jesus that is thus without the potential to "bite" us. But the gospel narratives do not offer us history in this way, in the way that defangs events by making them mere history.

How then do the gospels offer us history? What are the "fangs" of the events, the details of the scene that we cannot get from a window-view? The non-windowish way in which the gospels narratives offer us history is the way they offer us more than a picture of the political and cultural affairs of first-century Palestine: in some way this is also our story, these are our affairs. They reach out and sink their teeth into us by immersing all history, previous and subsequent, in their meaning. These are ancient events, but they are contemporary, more relevant to the present than the present itself. History they are, happening in space and time, but they do not stay as merely such, ready to be interpreted in whatever way strikes our fancy (as with the window-scene). They sink their teeth into our flesh by sinking our heart, mind, soul and strength into the event and its meaning -- and its Meaner. It is in this that they have significance religious and historical at the same time: they offer us themselves, and by so doing they offer us the Messiah.

No Love's as Random as God's Love

Lately, Cerberus has primarily been a political blog, which is fine by me, but I want to mix things up a bit with this post. This post is also unusual in that it doesn't draw many conclusions. Instead, I would like to encourage discussion on this topic. I would like Cerberus to be more interactive in general, rather than just three of us posting our thoughts and occasionally commenting on each other's posts. Many thanks to all of our readers who have been commenting already. Keep it up.

To the topic at hand: The first song on Wilco's album Summerteeth, "Can't Stand It," contains the lines "No love's as random / As God's love / I can't stand it / I can't stand it." I do not know exactly what the song is about or what Jeff Tweedy is trying to say here, but I always hear these lines as a criticism of Reformed theology, particularly the idea of election. After all, God's choice of whom He saves does seem random from our perspective. We do not know why He chooses whom He does, other than that it has nothing to do with anything good in the person He chooses. In fact, this is one of the most important features of the gospel, that there is absolutely nothing you are, have done, or will do that can make God love you any more than He decided to before He created the world.

I know the theological answers to this sort of objection: God's choice is based on His sovereign will and is perfect. God is the Potter; we are the clay; we have no right to challenge why He makes some vessels for one purpose and some for another.

These responses probably would not do much to satisfy someone who raised this objection, though. The objection as I hear it is based on an emotional response ("I can't stand it"). The logic of the above answers will not take away this emotional response.

Now for my lack of a conclusion: Is this what Tweedy is talking about? What is the rest of the song about? To what degree is this objection valid? What would you say to someone that raised this objection? Is there a better response that does deal with the emotional response? Is the only solution to let the Holy Spirit work to remove this emotional response? Does this objection bother you at all?

Anarchism or Statism

Tom Morello and his Rage Against the Machine companions (they've reunited recently, don't you know) are bound to be raising arguments about our government. The problem is that they seem to be at once statists and anarchists. The line about knocking at the door, however much you might think of a forlorn Christ at your soul, makes me think statist. Anarachists would set fire to the door.

But it's a catchy hook. The Irish background tones are especially neat. And I support nylon stringed instruments only slightly less than Ron Paul.

Exploitation of the Majority

I saw this article on the Mises Institute's blog:
Why Government Can't Make Decisions Rationally by Ben O'Neill

O'Neill does a great job of explaining why government decisions are always biased in the favor of small groups, particularly when it comes to cutting spending. Since every government action involves using tax revenues for things that benefits the population in non-uniform ways, every government action is really a redistribution of wealth. Since taxes are collected from almost everyone and most government programs primarily affect a much smaller group, the people on whom the program will have the greatest effect is that smaller group. As O'Neill points out, these people will be far more vocal about decisions concerning the program, and the government will give their views disproportionate consideration.

This mechanism explains the myriad of government programs that are of little advantage to most of the population. This is what is really going on with all the "special interests" that politicians always talk about. Since programs that take from the many and give to the few are allowed (even if forbidden by the Constitution), it is only rational for every small group to use their disproportionate influence to profit from the political system.

The proper functions of government such as national defense and police protection primarily benefit the entire populous. Even these cases, however, every change to expenditure or allocation will disproportionately affect some group(s), and they will be disproportionately vocal about these changes. Opening or closing a military base has a greater effect on the area immediately around the base than on the nation at large. When considering a proposal to decrease the size of a police force, the effect on the police officers will be given disproportionate weight over the issues of public safety and cost.

This over-representation of all small groups does have an advantage: it helps prevent the exploitation of minorities. The problem, of course, is that it has pulled us too far in the other direction, to the point that the majority is exploited though a plethora of government programs that redistribute wealth. The Constitution is supposed to protect us from both extremes, but the parts that limit the government are usually ignored. This is the logical outcome of allowing any latitude in the interpretation of the Constitution. The state makes decisions that increase the power and authority of the state. The three-branch system helps restrain this, but the President will nominate and the Senate will confirm judges who will deliver rulings that are advantageous to the Executive and Legislative branches. In-fighting slows the process down, but the direction of the drift remains the same, toward statism. The only way to stop or reverse this trend is for the population to use every election to insist that the Constitution be strictly upheld.

Profit

For what profit is it to a man if he gains the whole world, and loses his own soul?
- Matthew 16:26, NKJV

I haven't seen Micheal Moore's latest film, SiCKO, but I have paid a great deal of attention to Moore's promotion of his video, whether it's his mini-war with CNN's Wolf Blitzer and Dr. Sanjay Gupta, or his discussion with Keith Olbermann of MSNBC's Countdown program. I have enjoyed how much he's drawn attention to some of the dangers of the health care system in the United States. He's done us all a favor in putting the conversation back in daily rotation, but he hasn't gone so far as to make that discussion an honest one.

Moore's proposal is that, given the corrupt nature of the health insurance system in the United States, we should move to a tax-funded, single-payer health care system provided by the government. A universal health care system is necessary for providing treatment for all Americans, including those who either cannot afford health insurance or those who do not purchase it (I met one of the latter the other day).

Moore continually talks about how health insurance companies are profit-driven organizations who care little for the well-being of the consumer or the solvency of his or her personal finances. Solvency is the ability of an individual or organization to effectively pay for debts. The filmmaker points to the number of people who have gone bankrupt paying for medical care through health insurance companies.

While there are a number of issues to address with the health care system, I want to focus on the increasingly popular idea that profit is bad for the consumer. Profit, when restricted to the financial meaning, simply means the money a corporation or individual has left over after a financial engagement, when everything is taken care of, including debts like salaries and other financial expenses. Health insurance providers, like any other corporation, seek to turn a profit as they try to meet the needs for people. For Moore, this is bad.

But are profits really bad? Any economist will answer in the negative. Business types believe that profit is not only the ultimate reason behind why something is done, but the motivation for doing the best job possible. I suggest that this is precisely the case.

Profits themselves are vulnerable either to taxation or choice. The government of a municipality, state, or nation may tax income and thus, profits are diminished. Profits are also damaged by people seeking business elsewhere. Seems simple enough.

I will get to a point, by the way. Please put up with the economic discussion.

But the idea of profit can also be harmed in the same way. Our governments can provide services, using our taxes, in an apparent non-profit sort of way. But the most evil way of destroying the virtue of profit is to eliminate choice.

This is part of the reason why the health care system is flawed. Because our government says that employers must provide benefits like health care, dental care, maternity leave, etc., employers are forced to use part of a company's income to meet insurance premiums. Employers often make decisions for the whole of the company as well. Because the choice of providing insurance has been written into law, the employer has no choice to make but take sizable portions of income and fund health care. In turn, this negatively affects the employee, who now has no choice in which insurance company to use, or whether health care insurance is desirable in the first place.

By eliminating all of these choices, people lose the money they would otherwise receive in the form of salary or wage income. They could use their money at their discretion to buy alternative policies or not buy a policy at all. It's up to the individual. And these individuals can proceed to make more choices in which competing insurance companies are affected, which in turn try to make better choices in terms of providing insurance. Did I mention that people have more money?

Profits are undercut when choices are made for people by levels of bureaucracy. So the problem, Michael, is not really profit, but those that make decisions for other people. The concept of profit drives innovation.

I mentioned that I was discussing profit in the economic sense, but the verse I quoted helps us understand that profit is much more than some financial black ink. Stephen considers Christianity to be a form of hedonism, not like John Piper's Christian Hedonism particularly, but a hedonism in the sense that the investments and abstinences of Christianity lead to the salvation of the soul. Jesus isn't using "profit" as the "p-word" that Moore discuss, but a way of understanding what salvation is. It does profit the Christian to place faith in Jesus, to search the Scriptures, and live in the community of the Church.

There are other things I'd like to say on economics as I increasingly think about that particular science, although I think I shall leave that for later.

Theyocracy and Secular Protestantism

David Hart:

We call upon the state to shield us from vice or to set our vices free, because we do not have a culture devoted to the good, or dedicated to virtue, or capable of creating a civil society that is hospitable to any freedom more substantial than that of subjective will. This is simply what it is to be modern.

Why do we have wars on drugs, poverty, terrorism, even a "war on want" in the UK? Maybe it's because we haven't the foggiest idea of how to beat those things without a government, and wars, in the end, are the only things governments have ever been able to win. Or maybe it's because we have no devotion to good or virtue in ourselves. Whatever it is, it's all too easy to assume the problem has little to do with us, and demand They do something about it.

This, I think, is where Christians go wrong. Of course there is a problem; conservatives and liberals agree on that. So some fight abortion and some fight poverty; but in the end they agree on where the problem lies, and too often we think it lies with the government. We would do well to adopt the mindset of J. R. R. Tolkien:

If we could get back to personal names, it would do a lot of good. Government is an abstract noun meaning the art and process of governing and it should be an offence to write it with a capital G or so as to refer to people. If people were in the habit of referring to 'King George's council, Winston and his gang', it would go a long way to clearing thought, and reducing the frightful landslide into Theyocracy.

From a letter to Christopher Tolkien, 29 November 1943.

We need not adopt Tolkien's premodern anarchism in order to take his point (but it might not be so bad if we did). But I fear that the Christian response to Tolkien's Theyocracy usually takes no stronger a form than a call to increase the moral character of They, whether by ending abortion or being more tolerant or whatever tomorrow's big push is. But Christians still collapse into writing government with a capital G, to use Tolkien's evocative phrase. Does the church have nothing better to say to the world?

I would suggest, if I were asked, that Christianity has a lot to say about government, but it says it by speaking to the individual. Of course Christianity is able to change cultures and social systems, but we cannot conceive of this without seeing it through the lens of Christianity's changing of individuals. Otherwise we have adopted the mindset that asks the government to answer each new problem that comes along, and too often They will answer it with a war (whether we convince them to end abortion or not). Orthodox thinker Fr. Stephen Freeman contrasts the Christian call to the individual with "the default position of America" which he says is "secular protestantism."

I say this is the default position and mean by it - that without effort and care - we all find ourselves thinking and acting out of a secular protestant mindset. Of course, I need to offer a definition for my terms. By secular protestantism (and I mean no insult to Protestants by the term) I mean a generalized belief in God - but a God who is removed from the world (hence the term secular). Secularism is not the belief that there is no God - but the belief that God belongs to a religious sphere and the rest of the world is neutral in some independent sense. I add the term “protestantism” to it, because, generally, our culture gives lip-service to protestant foundations, and because Protestant Churches generally understand themselves as relatively human organizations, the true Church being something in the mind of God. (I will grant exceptions to my definition and understanding).

With such a mindset, of course, whatever religious sense one has is generally a matter of effort, organization, control, marketing - in short - religious life is no different from every other aspect of life. It is separated and defined only by its purpose. Such religion is, of course, not Christianity at all, even though it may strive to do good secular work for Christ. True Christianity is a life lived in union with Christ and all that we do that has value is what we do in union with Him.

Protestants, Catholics and Orthodox can argue about what it means to be and do "in union with Him", but the point remains that, unless Christians conceive of their political task as one involving, in the words of N. T. Wright, "a God with muddy boots and dirty hands, busy at the center of the mess so that all may be cleaned up and sorted out", they will always be just another political party, albeit one that also does the religious thing. Likewise Christians must conceive of their political task as one involving a changed individual -- not changed in the sense of believing in Intelligent Design and opposing Planned Parenthood (not to pronounce on whether those things are good or bad), but changed by union with Christ -- before, and as the means of enacting, a changed government.

If I may co-opt the above quote from David Hart, the church's call to the individual (Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life) is the only way to a culture devoted to the good, dedicated to virtue, the only One capable of creating a civil society that is hospitable to any freedom more substantial than that of subjective will. An all-too-secular protestantism cannot answer the pull of Theyocracy unless it works out this truth in its individual and collective belief and practice.

Well, I had to get in my political rant for the month.

New Addition

I've taken the liberty of adding the second blog on Cerberus. This the blog of the Mises Institute, an organization run in Auburn, Alabama. Perhaps my chief regret was not visiting the place while I was there, and I'm planning a return trip to correct that flaw.

In the interest of not tossing up more quips and videos, my next post will be an account of a very real encounter I had in which a very real book saved me some very real money. Stay tuned.

Ron Paul Can't Win

Don't Beat Your Sword into a Plowshare Just Yet.

Mark Horne gave me a scare for real this time.

Click.

Religious Totalitarianism, Pluralism, Christianity, and Atheism

This morning I was listening to WNYC, the public radio station in New York City. The last segment on the Brian Lehrer Show was an interview with Eboo Patel, the founder of the Interfaith Youth Core. He has also just written a book, Acts of Faith: The Story of an American Muslim, the Struggle for the Soul of a Generation. The following is the audio of the interview:


In the interview Eboo Patel discusses the state of affairs in the world. He believes that the central conflict of the 21st Century is and will be the conflict between religious totalitarianism and pluralism and that young people will be central to the outcome of that conflict. He draws from W. E. B. Du Bois's idea of the color line of the 20th Century and calls this religious conflict of the 21st Century the faith line. His goal is to use the power of young people on the side of religious pluralism and points out how Martin Luther King, Jr., Mahatma Gandhi, and Nelson Mandela were all young when they began to make great strides for racial pluralism in the 20th Century.

Of course religious totalitarianism and pluralism are not the only options. I immediately thought about my own beliefs. I don't consider myself to be a totalitarian or a pluralist, though I am a fundamentalist by some definitions. The way that Patel describes and defines the two camps he has in mind leaves some question as to where he would put me. The only non-pluralistic religious groups that he mentioned are very radical. It seems that he fails to recognize the middle ground where I stand: I think other religions are wrong, but I am not trying to kill anybody.

The comments on the WNYC website bring up another option for belief as well: atheism. Most of the people that left comments are antitheists, people who believe that all religions are foolish, harmful, and morally wrong. There seems to be a growing movement toward this position. I have to wonder if this idea will eventually replace pluralism as the preferred belief system of liberal thinkers. I suppose it is closer to logical consistency at least. (By the way, Richard Dawkins, one of the leading proponents of this "New Atheism," will be debating John Lennox in Birmingham, Alabama, on October 3.)

This antitheistic New Atheism has more in common with religious fundamentalism than with agnosticism and "weak atheism." It will be interesting to see how the debate among pluralists, antitheists, and the various religious exclusivists develops and how the rise of New Atheism effects how Biblical Christianity does apologetics and evangelism. We may have to take another step back from the questions of the truth of Christianity and the plausibility of Christianity to the question of whether religious belief is even a valid human activity. Antitheism is gaining steam in the face of radical Islam, and it is now as important as ever to show that Christianity has a positive influence on the world by working to build the kingdom.

The weight of Calvinism does not come from TULIP, the Westminster Confession, or even the book of Romans, all due respect to the Apostle. Paul's epistles instead explain what might be the most powerful part of the Christian drama. Christianity is a story of the objective searching out the subjective. God walks with man in the garden, and seeks him out after the Fall. It was not Adam that sought the Lord, but the Lord that sought Adam. God came to Abraham. God sent his prophets to an unrepentant Israel. Jesus came to earth, and sought out his disciples after his resurrection. And in these days the Spirit comes to believers, further equipping them and renewing their hearts and minds towards Christ.

You Want Egypt? I'll Give You Egypt.

Numbers 14:1-4:

Then all the congregation raised a loud cry, and the people wept that night. And all the Israelites complained against Moses and Aaron; the whole congregation said to them, "Would that we had died in the land of Egypt! Or would that we had died in this wilderness! Why is the LORD bringing us into this land to fall by the sword? Our wives and our little ones will become booty; would it not be better for us to go back to Egypt?" So they said to one another, "Let us choose a captain, and go back to Egypt."

It is treacherously easy to overspiritualize the Old Testament, especially when it comes to the narratives. If centuries of allegorical interpretation weren't enough to drive this point home, it won't take you long to find a dozen contemporary sermons full of "principles" and "timeless truths of Scripture" painstakingly extracted from the stories of the Old Testament. Whether these practices are useful or proper is another question; the point here is that we are dealing with a record of events. Are there principles here? Truths of scripture? Yes. There is much to be learned in today's passages about God, faith, even politics. But that is not what the narratives primarily are.

What's more, we are dealing with a record of human events. There are a lot of things in the OT narratives that are easy to label 'supernatural'; and while this word is sometimes difficult to shake free of its Deistic trappings, it certainly is more fitting than 'natural'. Nevertheless we read about real people, actual humans. Putting aside for the moment questions of historicity, it should not sound too strange to sat that Moses was a human political and religious leader, Korah was a human revolutionary, and so forth.

In the passage at hand, the Israelites are facing another another human issue: military difficulties. The Israelites have just found out from the agents they have sent into Canaan that the land will be nigh impossible to conquer. It is full of well-protected cities and equally well-armed warriors. One can easily imagine running across a similar passage in a history of, say, Alexander the Great's conquests.

The real intrigue here is that the Israelites, or at least some factions within the larger group, also propose a practical human solution to their issues. "Let us choose a captain, and go back to Egypt," say the Israelites to one another. In other words, let's replace Moses with someone more competent, and change our policy. The real problems here are our intentions for conquest. This plan has been wrong from the start!

Numbers 21:5-9:

The people spoke against God and against Moses, "Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? For there is no food and no water, and we detest this miserable food." Then the Lord sent poisonous serpents among the people, and they bit the people, so that many Israelites died. The people came to Moses and said, "We have sinned by speaking against the LORD and against you; pray to the LORD to take away the serpents from us." So Moses prayed for the people. And the LORD said to Moses, "Make a poisonous serpent, and set it on a pole; and everyone who is bitten shall look at it and live." So Moses made a serpent of bronze, and put it upon a pole; and whenever a serpent bit someone, that person would look at the serpent of bronze and live.

About 40 years later, not much has changed: the Israelites are still worn down and poorly provisioned at the end of four decades of hard survival in the wilderness following their failed attempt to take Canaan's hill country. It is now difficult to find food and water, and the food they do have they find unacceptable. Spiritual allegories and life principles present themselves by the dozen (and this is not necessarily a problem) but we must keep in mind that these are real issues, human events. It is precisely as real issues and human events that these two passages begin to come into a fresh and meaningful light, and take on a meaning that is decidedly more than human.

A recurring theme in the wilderness narratives is the suggestion, when the situation becomes dire, to return to Egypt (cf. Exodus 14:11-12 and
Numbers 11:5, 18-20). The story of the serpents in Numbers 21 can be read as the subversive fruition of that suggested solution. It is not overly imaginative to think of aging Israelites telling their children stories of their old lives in Egypt. Life in Egypt was remembered as difficult but good; a demanding life, but worth it all for the benefits the Israelites enjoyed there. And what splendor was in Egypt! Awesome pyramids, grand cities, majestic rulers -- Egypt truly was a place of glory, power and ideals.

One of the most vivid symbols of Egyptian glory was the serpent, sticking in the Israelites' minds, we may think, much as the hammer and sickle sticks in the minds of former Soviet citizens. But it seems that, at times at least, the serpent did not symbolize oppression for the wandering Hebrews, but salvation. Time after time they urge their leaders to take them back to Egypt, until finally, at a time when most of the group knows only stories of the greatness of Egypt, the Israelites receive salvation from the serpent. The people wake up one morning to find serpents everywhere -- much as their former masters woke up one morning to find frogs everywhere -- and before they know it, the plagues of Egypt have come upon them in new form. Far more than their firstborns die; this serpent kills without judgment. God subverts the symbol of Egypt in order to show his people what Egypt really is. And when the Israelites finally are saved, it is when God co-opts for Himself the symbol of the salvation to which Israel had been looking. Egypt remains symbolized by the serpent, but Egypt no longer symbolizes salvation. God is, as He reminds His people all through the exodus narratives, the one "who brought you out of the land of Egypt." Salvations belongs to YHWH alone.

Things I'm Learning in Austin

1. "Lost in the Supermarket" by The Clash on London Calling is one of the best songs ever. I thought it was merely a great song earlier, but I was mistaken. I listen to it on repeat in my head.

2. Driving in Austin is awesome. Auburn driving sucks, with the only decent thing going on being Glenn Avenue out past the airport. Pensacola driving is cool because you see large bodies of water, but Austin driving is better because you see large bodies of water while driving on curvy roads through rocky hills.

3. I'm working on the rental places. There is a tree in my front yard. Since Austin is either liberal or libertarian, I might put a swing on one of the branches and spray paint "Free Swings for Ron Paul '08!" on the seat.

4.. In plumbing, connecting dissimilar metals produces a dielectric effect which corrodes both metals. This happened on both hot and cold water lines in both the kitchen sinks. Someone apparently thought that because the 90-degree elbow was made of brass, that the effect would be canceled between galvanized iron and copper. This corrodes both materials over time, and flakes of both metals can end up in your cooking or drinking water. My uncle and I replaced two so far, and have two more to go.

5. Shark Bites are a new plumbing technology that almost seems fake. You just clamp both ends on your pipes and it "bites" them. It seems way too easy. But it works.

6. Shiner is a beer manufacturer in Shiner, Texas, about midway between Houston and Austin, or so I'm told. I had tried Shiner Bock while in Auburn but it didn't leave any significant impressions. I tried some again, this time closer to home, and it was pretty phenomenal. Shiner produces six beers and most of them are excellent, and they all have a solid Shiner finish. I'm sold, and pumped that a city populated by Germans and Czechs (so you know the brewing is good) provides the standard drinking beer for most Texans in Austin. So the quality of the average alcoholic beverage in Texas is greater than that of where you live.

7. Austin seems to be more hospitable than anywhere else I've been thus far. So I guess the South doesn't have a monopoly on it. And Texas isn't considered South. It's considered Texas. They don't serve sweet tea here, and you'd have to drive 900 miles to get to El Paso. Forget that.

8. It has rained a lot, but the past couple of days have been sunny. Nevertheless, the dam between Austin and Lakeway has the maximum amount of spillways open to drain the lake without flooding the lower plain. Good call.

9. If you're going to move somewhere, be sure to take your fingernail clippers.

10. Buy vintage furniture. And clothes. Paul McCartney will sing a song about it.

Iraq and Technical Difficulties

What do you get when you cross a longtime legislator, a cheap audio setup, and a questionable war?

You get my new favorite Washington Post article. What could have been just another Republican leaving the pro-war camp was instead the most useful, moving public appearance by an equally public official since Howard Dean let loose.

Senator Pete Domenici (R-NM) preached through his entire collection of talking points without delivering a single clear point or complete sentence, thanks to malevolently malfunctioning audio equipment that winked on and off throughout the entire presentation.

The venerable Senator made such profound statements as "I do believe it's fair to say that (long audio gap, series of thumps) to tell you that there are very few wars that (audio gap, more thumps, whispered expletive, thumps)." Not content with such relatively commonplace comments, Domenici went so far as to claim that the war "was (audio gap)."

The multiple gaps and mysterious thumps obscured and deterred whatever message New Mexico's finest may have been trying to communicate, but we heartily applaud him anyway. If we are to truly move forward on the issue of war in Iraq, we must all look to whispered expletives and awkward silences to take the debate to the place it should have been all along.

Scranton vs. Anaheim

Contrary to popular opinion, the release of Paris Hilton (which Fox News dubbed "The Liberation of Paris" for yuks) is not the most pressing cultural topic of the day, nor is the homicide-suicide of wrestling superstar Chris Benoit worth studying. There are some recent developments in Hollywood that require our attention.

Recently I discovered that John Krasinski is interested in playing Fletch in the upcoming movie, Fletch Won. Barring Chevy Chase's return, I'd say that's a good call. If you've been living under a rock, Krasinski plays Jim Halpert on the NBC sitcom The Office. I couldn't imagine anyone better myself.

So today I made my way over to the IMDb entry for Fletch Won and what do I find except some actor rumored to portray Fletch whose name isn't Jim Halpert.

Except this isn't just any would-be actor. It's Joshua Jackson.

Maybe you know him as Charlie Conway. Minneapolis, Minnesota.

I thought that Halpert would get in with no competition. I thought wrong. Jim and Charlie, while they play completely different games, will be tough competitors. Jim may be able to pull pranks on Dwight and undermine Dunder-Mifflin's administrative ethos, but is that going to get him past Charlie's ability to work with Coach Bombay and his teammates? Can Jim's blank stare pierce Charlie's belief in the mantra, "Ducks fly together"?

In short, will Charlie's triple dekes get him past Jim's vaunted comedic ability? Or will Halpert rewrite history-as-we-know-it and block Charlie's climactic penalty success?

The Office vs. The Mighty Ducks. Three seasons, three movies. An epic actor versus another epic actor. Count on Cerberus to continue the coverage.

"NPR, meet Toby Keith; Toby Keith, NPR."

Yesterday I heard a rather amusing piece of broadcasting. NPR's show Fresh Air contained a review of Toby Keith's new album. I suppose the people at NPR were trying to prove that they are accepting of all kinds of music and ideas, but the result was rather comical. As a frequent NPR listener who disagrees with its prevailing political philosophy and as a southerner who doesn't listen to country music, I feel ideally positioned to observe this collision of two worlds with which I am familiar but of which I am not really a part. If you are in a similar position, you might also find it entertaining.

Understanding the New Perspective on Paul: Questions, Answers and Stories

The chief difference between the "new perspective" on Paul (NPP) and the more traditional Reformed and Lutheran views is a difference of stories. I am no scholar, but I suspect that much of the conflict between the conservative and revisionist sides of the debate (if I may use those labels) results from trying to integrate differing storylines into the wrong stories.

One of longest-running Western storylines is the narrative of personal morality: how do we achieve moral perfection? If we cannot do this, what is our status before whatever god there might be? This question was far more than theoretical; many of the greatest writers on the subject, from Augustine to Luther, wrote from consciences struggling with knowledge of their own imperfection.

One of the greatest answers to this question in Western thought was the answer of the Protestant Reformation. How do I achieve the sort of personal righteousness required to be accepted before God? In short, said the Reformers, you don't and Christ does. "Our righteousness and wisdom are in vain," says Martin Luther. (Commentary on Romans, p. 28). The Reformation sought to abandon the project of building up oneself before God, accepting the alien righteousness of Christ, for "there neither is nor ever was any mere natural man absolutely righteous in himself: that is to say, void of all unrighteousness, of all sin." (Richard Hooker, A Learned Discourse of Justification, p. 2)

The Reformers did not, however, give up the existing storyline of acceptance before God; instead they redefined its answer. What we need is not personal righteousness, but rather "a righteousness which does not originate on earth, but comes down from heaven." (Luther, Romans, p. 29) The personal morality required for acceptance before God was given up for an extrapersonal morality, but the key element in the story -- the need for righteousness in order to be accepted by God -- was accepted, even built up. The Reformation thereby affirmed the existing narrative of man's relationship to God, though they radically redrew the answers to its central questions.

Herein, I suggest, lies the chief factor in the confusion and controversy surrounding the "new perspective" on Paul. The question asked and answered by Lutheran and Reformed thought is, as we have seen, How do we achieve personal righteousness in order to be accepted by God? Their answer is, of course, the righteousness of Christ alone, through faith alone, etc. The answer that Lutheran and Reformed thinkers find in the NPP is something along the lines of, the entirety of a life lived, including faith, works, and the rest of it.

But here is the confusion: the NPP is not asking and answering the same question as the Protestant Reformation. Lutheran and Reformed thinkers generally perceive correctly the answer given by the NPP, but assume that the answer goes with their own question. But instead of telling a story of sinful humans trying to be righteous before God, proponents of the NPP find in Paul a story of sinful humans chosen by God to be His chief agents in restoring His creation. The chief question to be asked, then, is not about achieving righteousness before God, but about how we can tell which people have been chosen as these agents. The (somewhat oversimplified) answer is faith and works.

This answer, if paired with the Reformers' question, does lead us down the path to Rome at best, and to Pelagianism at worst. It would be far more productive, not only from an exegetical standpoint, but also from an ecumenical view, if discussion could proceed on the level of storyline and questions. Only in this context can the answers of the Reformation and of recent scholarship be helpfully compared and discussed.

Democracy, If We Like the People Who Are Elected

I have been writing a lot about politics lately, but I do intend to address other topics, just not right now. My apparent obsession is probably the result of my recent obsession with public radio. Thanks to the internet, I can listen to a continuous mix of NPR, PRI, APM, and the BBC. New Hampshire Public Radio is one of my favorite feeds. The recent events in Gaza and the resulting political shakeup have gotten a lot of coverage.

In case you are unfamiliar with these events, I will attempt to provide a brief summary based on various Wikipedia articles: The Palestinian National Authority governs two area, Gaza and the West Bank, which are separated by Israel. The two largest political organizations in the Palestinian National Authority are Fatah and Hamas. Fatah is the more secular, moderate organization; Hamas is Islamist and radical. Both have armed branches; Hamas calls for the destruction of Israel and is considered a terrorist organization by Israel, the US, and the EU. President of the PNA, Mahmoud Abbas (a.k.a. Abu Mazen), is a member of Fatah. In the last elections, in January 2006, Hamas won 74 of 132 seats in the Palestinian Legislative Council with the highest percentage of the popular vote (44.45%). In response, Israel and the Quartet (US, EU, Russia, and UN) instituted economic sanctions against the PNA, including Israel withholding tax revenue. During 12-14 June 2007, Hamas seized control of Gaza. In response, President Abbas dissolved the Hamas-led government. The United States and Israel have shown support for Abbas and have resumed aid to the PNA.

Days later, on 19 June, Israel's prime minister Ehud Olmert met with President Bush. Their joint press event focused on the situation in Palestine. Bush made several comments concerning democracy. This is part of one of his responses:

It's interesting that extremists attack democracies around the Middle East, whether it be the Iraq democracy, the Lebanese democracy, or a potential Palestinian democracy. And what that should say clearly to people all around the world is that we are involved with an ideological conflict that is a monumental conflict. And those of us that believe in liberty and human rights and human decency need to be bound together in common cause to fight off these extremists, and to defeat them.

You can only defeat them so much militarily. We have to also defeat them with a better idea. It's a better idea that's being practiced by our friend, Israel. It's called democracy. And that's the fundamental challenge facing this century: Will we have the courage and the resolve necessary to help democracy defeat this ideology. And I will tell the Prime Minister, once again, I'm deeply committed to this cause, whether it be in Iraq, or Lebanon, or the Palestinian Territory, or anywhere else in the Middle East, and around the world.

In response to another question, Bush said the following:

First of all, we recognize the President of all the Palestinian people, and that's President Abu Mazen. He was elected; he's the President. Secondly, we recognize that it was Hamas that attacked the unity government. They made a choice of violence. It was their decision that has caused there to be this current situation in the Middle East, about which we'll be spending some time discussing.

Matt, what you're seeing now in this part of the 21st century is going to be played out over time. This is an ideological struggle. We're looking at the difference between a group of people that want to represent the Palestinians who believe in peace, that want a better way for their people, that believe in democracy -- they need help to build the institutions necessary for democracy to flourish, and they need help to build security forces so that they can end up enforcing what most of the people want, which is to live in peace -- and that's versus a group of radicals and extremists who are willing to use violence, unspeakable violence sometimes, to achieve a political objective.

In the first response, Bush talks of the need "to fight off the extremists," but extremists are represented in a democracy, too. He seems to working from the idea that in the Middle East there are a few small groups of people who want to establish Islamist states, but the vast majority of people want to be free and want others to be free. Earlier, he refers to "the moderate people, the ordinary Palestinians." The trouble is that the data does not support this view. Almost half of Palestinians voted for a party that wants to destroy Israel and institute Islamic law. To a significant extent, Palestine is a land of extremists.

In the first paragraph of the second response, Bush says something very telling. He says, "First of all, we recognize the President of all the Palestinian people, and that's President Abu Mazen. He was elected; he's the President. " This is all literally true, but the implication that the President is more legitimate than the Hamas-led government is false. He could just as accurately have said, "First of all, we recognize the Parliament of all the Palestinian people, and that's the Hamas-led Parliament. They were elected; They're the Parliament." This suggests that Bush only recognizes governments and parts of governments that he likes. This is a very troubling policy for a man who claims to be spreading democracy to hold. More troubling domestically is the suggestion that Bush considers heads of state to be more important and better representations of the people than legislative bodies. This may explain Bush's extensive use of signing statements, but that is another topic all together.

In the next paragraph, Bush refers to "a group of people that want to represent the Palestinians who believe in peace" as the good guys. Democracy doesn't only represent those who believe in peace. If democracy only represented those who believe in never using violence, then Bush wouldn't be in office. In fact, almost everyone around the world believes in both peace and violence. The disagreement is over when and how to use violence and what kinds of peace are acceptable. Hamas wants peace too; they just want to destroy Israel first.

A couple of times Bush mentions democracy as opposed to another ideology. He never clearly states what this is, but from the context it appears that he is talking about extremism. Extremism is not itself an ideology, however. Islamism (activist or political Islam) is an ideology. I assume that Bush knows that Islamism is the ideology he is opposing but couldn't say anything like "We will eliminate Islamic fundamentalism." The problem is that democracy is not the opposite of extremism or Islamism nor does it oppose them. Democracy by itself allows both to flourish and provides representation to both.

I am not saying I support Hamas. I do not. I am not even saying there is no hope for a peaceable Palestinian state. I just think that we need to be honest about what we want other governments to look like. Bush's goal is not democracy in the Middle East. He wants a Middle East that won't attack Israel or the United States and won't build nukes, which is a fine goal, but it is not democracy. The best way to get a Middle East that won't attack us is probably to leave them alone, as Ron Paul suggests. The existence of Israel and our alliance with them may be a problem for this, however, since the very existence of Israel is an affront to many Islamists. I am not sure it would even be possible to sufficiently cut ties with Israel to convince Islamists that we are not supporting Israel. Ron Paul has spoken of avoiding entangling alliances, but I don't know what he would do with our existing alliances.

On a lighter note, I have a couple of suggestions for what we could call what Bush is actually trying to spread, since it is not actually democracy:

• Philiarchy: Government by those we like
• Inferiocracy: Government by those who recognize that they have to do what better nations like the United States say to do

Please comment if you can think of any more appropriate terms or if you think I have been unfair to Bush in any way. I want to avoid attacking straw men or taking cheap shots at anyone.

Nickelodeon.

I am a representative of a generation raised on Gak and Floam.

Douglas Wilson can spend his time writing a book on it, but I think I just made a better argument for classical education than he did.

A Meta-Narrative Resurrection

As modern as it is to try to define postmodernism, like all other isms it does not lend itself to a singular defintion. The concept has several different ideas and applications, but one of the major premises is that the meta-narrative is dead. The idea that a single overarching principle governs the complete story of humanity is not absurd, as an existentialist might suggest, but completely devoid of any meaning, value, or truth. Perhaps postmodernists are actually at their most modern in ringing the death-toll of the meta-narrative, and indeed some suggest that the "death of the meta-narrative" is a meta-narrative in itself.

Whatever inconsistency that might suggest, postmodernists are consistent with their other beliefs for blasting meta-narratives. If it is impossible to know any kind of objective reality from our all too subjective experience, then meta-narratives are bunk, controlling, and devious. They are devices for subduing the masses. Marx's critique of religion applies to Marxism itself. So we are left to twiddle our subjective thumbs and entertain ourselves, write sad songs, happy songs, or do nothing until we die.

So what I find incredibly ironic about the early 21st century is that meta-narrative surrounds us, perhaps even more than before postmodernism ascended the belltower. The Matrix, for all of its cyperpunk and postmodern intimations, nevertheless developed into a narrative almost demanding religion in a world of ones and zeroes. As much as I am loathe to read something like The Gospel Reloaded, or anything that sweats to illuminate the Christian themes in the trilogy, one thing that is for certain that a meta-narrative is present as we watch Neo, Morpheus, and Trinity make their way to the human city of Zion to defend humanity once and for all.

Then came Peter Jackson's adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings. The film trilogy serves as the fantasy yin to The Matrix's yang and tells the tale of a fellowship of humans, hobbits, an elf, a dwarf, and a wizard as they take the Ring of Power to Mount Doom, in the heart of Sauron's Mordor. The fellowship braves hordes of orcs, a giant spider, and the dreaded ringwraiths to eliminate the ring and rid Middle-Earth of evil for good.

Following that came the adaptation of C.S. Lewis' The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, in which director Andrew Adamson plunged into a meta-narrative that just short of explicitly aligns itself with the Biblical story of creation, fall, redemption, and consummation. Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy pass through a wardrobe to discover the enchanting world of Narnia, where an evil queen rules but for the moment, because the great lion Aslan is on the move. And the film was a success. The first sequel, Prince Caspian is being filmed and The Voyage of the Dawn Treader is in preproduction as well.

Where else? In literature, Brian Herbert has paired with science fiction bestseller Kevin J. Anderson to continue the stories of House Atreides, House Harkonnen, and the Butlerian Jihad of Frank Herbert's classic Dune world. For the past ten years J.K. Rowling has been entertaining children and adults alike with her Harry Potter series. In music, Sufjan Stevens ignored the postmodern bells and released an album full of reverences to an overarching narrative, and Illinois took home "Best of 2005" awards from Metacritic, Pitchfork, Amazon, Entertainment Weekly, and The L.A. Times.

Whether meta-narratives are important or even desired in an increasingly postmodern society, they are here and here to stay. But the postmodern critique still stands, whether these narratives exist or not. The success of meta-narrative as of late perhaps give even more ammunition to the postmodernist who points out the grimness of reality. Our early 21st century enchantments are nothing more than illusions. We will never go through a magical wardrobe and we will never come out of our personal Matrix, and so we shouldn't waste our time daydreaming of Middle-Earth where something so gross as the final defeat of evil is purported to occur.

That is where postmodernism is crushed by the glory of the meta-narrative. We do not have to pass through a wardrobe to meet Aslan; Aslan comes through the wardrobe to meet us. We don't have to fight our way to Zion; the new Zion comes down to us. The existence of the Bible itself is a demonstration of God's willingness to make himself known to a fallen people that could not reach him. And unlike other narratives, we are not left feeling empty in our own world. After reading of the God who sent his Son to atone for a rebellion's sins and of King whose coronation ceremony was a crucifixion, when we ask "wouldn't it be so wonderful if such a thing could be true?" we can smile, for it certainly is.

The Danger of National Conceit

The mythology of the United States, those ideas that form the nation's self-image, includes the idea that the United States is the greatest society that has ever existed or will ever exist, although it will probably go on in greatness forever. This is accepted as an obvious fact by politicians from both major parties and by the general public. Questioning this is considered heresy. If any newly-elected senator said, "I would like to thank the voters of this state giving me the opportunity to proudly serve a pretty good country," his supporters would be appalled and wonder if he thought they had just elected him to the Canadian parliament.

Supporting this idea that the United States is the greatest nation of all time are other similar assumptions. Most Americans take for granted that democracy is the greatest political ideal and that the American brand of democracy is the best possible system of government. It is certainly better than all those crazy systems with prime ministers and unscheduled elections that no one really understands. Americans also take for granted that the ideals on which the nation was supposedly founded are the greatest of all ideals and that America is the greatest possible expression of those ideals.

I do not know how long this idea has dominated the way the United States views itself, but it is almost certain that this has not always been the case. The founders and their contemporaries were likely optimistic about their attempt to form a nation, but they would have been fools to think that it was the greatest one on earth. If not for an apathetic British populous and advantageously exploiting centuries of animosity between the French and English, the United Sates would not have won independence. For the majority of the time since the United States gained independence, the United Kingdom was more powerful. Elements of the myth of greatness likely arose with the idea of Manifest Destiny. It would be interesting to look at historical documents (letters, speeches, etc.) to see when and how this idea developed and gained popularity. I will leave any additional historical speculation or research to Daniel. As for contemporary influences, I believe that the emphasis on self-confidence and positive reinforcement in today's society has helped to reinforce this concept. People are taught to believe that they and everything they are a part of are the best some category and that category is the one that really matters.

This actually points to part of the reason that rational people accept this idea so completely. We judge ourselves by our own standards, and we assume that people in other countries are using the same standards. This is why we are confused when other countries don't like us, and we think that it must be because they are envious. The idea that America is the best is so deeply rooted that when we start slipping in one of our criterion of greatness we adjust the criterion.

I don't know exactly how other countries view themselves or us, but I assume that most are not so conceited as to think of themselves as the greatest nation of all time. Last summer I visited Scotland, and as soon as I got off the airplane I was amused to see posters welcoming me "to the best small country in the world." These were just tourism posters, of course; more serious Scottish self-evaluation is far less exalted. Some countries probably see themselves as the best at certain things or in certain categories, but few if any see themselves the way we do.

By this point, I have likely infuriated some people (if anyone is actually reading this), and such people may have quit reading, but in case any have made it this far, a few qualifications are in order. I am not saying that I do not think America is really great. America is great. It is the most powerful nation in the world. It has the highest GDP (nominal, PPP) of any nation in the world (although the total for the EU is higher by most measures). It has a good system of government. I really like it here. I like capitalism and the republican form of govern. The United States may be the greatest nation (whatever that means) in the world at the moment, but it is far too soon to make any historical judgments. The U.S. is still in its rookie season or sophomore season compared to the careers of the great empires of history. It is also foolish to claim that certain American ideals are superior to competing ideals in every way. God did not give ancient Israel a republic with three branches of government. Chances are that for some future society a different system will work much better than ours could.

Regardless of how great America may actually be, it is very dangerous to accept America's greatness as an absolute fact. For one, thinking that we are better than everyone else is a good way to make them all hate us. More importantly, accepting any uncertain principle as an absolute leads to a temptation to wrap it up with true absolutes. This is largely the cause of the misdirected passions of the religious right. If Christians accept certain political principles as absolutes, then it is logical to promote them with the same unwavering determination with which the gospel should be promoted. I am not saying that Christians should not be involved in or passionate about the political process. Christians should not, however, put any political ideal ahead of the gospel or anywhere near it. The gospel and all of Scripture should inform political decisions, but politics must never be made into a gospel. This is true for both domestic and international politics. God is neither a Republican nor an American. Just as Christians should not support any political party with absolute zeal, they should not support the spread of American political ideals overseas with absolute zeal. Instead, they should carefully and constantly examine the entirety of both in the light of the Scriptures.

If we are to stop thinking of America as the absolutely greatest nation of all time, we must develop a new image of our nation. I believe it is safe to apply the instructions given in Romans 12:3 to our nation as well as to ourselves: "For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned" (ESV). I believe Philippians 2:3 is also applicable here: "Do nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves" (ESV). Sober judgment and humility will serve us well as we think about ourselves and our nation.

The Bizarre Idea of Nationhood

Yesterday I was thinking about something closely related to what Daniel talked about in "...liberty and justice for all." Most notions about foreign policy depend on the concept of the sovereignty of independent nations. To an extent, the United States has pushed the boundaries of what is acceptable under such a view. First, we did so through fairly covert means such as installing friendly dictators during the Cold War. More recently, the actions have become more overt (Afghanistan and Iraq), but they are now pursued under the cover of rhetoric about fighting terrorism and spreading democracy. Whether or not this rhetoric is true and these wars are just is not my concern here. The point is that in spite of what our actions might indicate, we still claim that we believe in national sovereignty. This was the primary justification for the first war with Iraq. Iraq invaded another sovereign nation, Kuwait, and the U.S.-led coalition rushed to Kuwait's aid. This idea of sovereignty is also behind much of what our beloved Ron Paul says about foreign policy.

The idea is generally that every nation, regardless of its form of government or military strength, has the right to rule itself and control everything that happens inside its own borders. We attacked Iraq because it invaded Kuwaiti territory. If instead Kuwaiti military forces moved into Iraqi territory, and Iraq then obliterated them, we probably would have left Iraq alone. Clearly, territorial boundaries are terribly important to the idea of a nation and national sovereignty. It seems that the United Nations wants nations to get along and stay out of each other's territory. Starting a war to gain more land is considered unacceptable behavior.

The problem with all of this is that throughout history, national boundaries have been in constant flux. One empire after another conquered and ruled the Middle East. Since the fall of the Roman Empire, European borders have shifted many times, and parts of Europe such as Italy and Germany had no central government for much of their history. (I am sure that Daniel can provide details and corrections as necessary concerning the history of national territories.) The current national boundaries that the UN tries to preserve are relatively new and completely artificial.

Just because one nation now controls a particular piece of land, there is no objective reason to believe that it has an absolute right to that land. The ethic group(s) that live there and the government ruling there probably gained their current position by force. If military might determines who gets to live in and rule a particular place, then any nation that can conquer a territory should be allowed to. The conquering nation has as much right to be there as the conquered. Often when people set out to draw up new national boundaries (after major wars, for example), they do so based on where ethnic groups live, but no people group is truly indigenous. Any definition of a people group and any determination of what groups deserve their own nations are also artificial.

It seems that the UN has decided that peace is better than war so the best thing to do in most cases is to maintain the status quo. This may be the best policy, since one of the most radical attempts to change ownership of territory in modern times, Zionism, has led to Israel being in almost constant conflict since it was established. (I am not making any value judgement concerning Israel's statehood. I am only pointing out the result of drastic changes in territorial lines.) If war is sometimes just, then there could be situations in which a war to gain territory could also be justified, if the existing allotment of territory is sufficiently unjust. Therefore, there are times in which the status quo should be changed.

All this is really to say that the idea of a government having sovereignty over a particular piece of land is a rather strange idea. The relationship between a government and a nation is also a strange thing. The same nation can have a series of radically different governments, but it is still viewed as the same nation. However, a government is the thing that binds a group of people and an area of land together to make a nation. Without a government, there is no one to determine who is a citizen or legal resident and where the borders lie.

It seems that the only ways to rationally explain nationhood is that either it is a totally artificial construct held together by force or it was instituted by God. The first possibility is one in which might makes right and there can be no moral judgements about the actions of any state. This may be an accurate model of history, but it is not one that many people would like. The United States could police the world as we saw fit, but we would be in the same moral position as Nazi Germany as they sought to conquer the world. It would also mean that states are no different from any other organization. Al Qaeda, Microsoft, the United States, the UN, the NRA, Enron, and the Boy Scouts of America would only differ in degree and style of influence. Two warring nations would be the same as two feuding families murdering each other.

If nations and governments do fit into unique categories, those categories have to be created by God. If God did not establish nations and governments, then there can be no moral obligation for a citizen to obey the government, even if that government is a democracy because even a democracy is artificial and coerces the minority by force. Of course, God does legitimize governments. He commands us to obey (and pray for) those in authority and to pay our taxes. He says he has established all authority. The Bible does not say much about territorial issues or what makes a nation, however. The general idea is how to live in whatever situation one finds oneself, and there is not much about how to behave in a situation where one has a voice in government, or what the role of government ought to be. I have tried to develop a Biblical political philosophy, but I have not completed it. If I ever finish it, it will be included in To Attempt. Of course the Bible does directly discuss certain issues of government in the Old Testament as they relate to the theocratic monarchy, but it is unwise to use such examples as guides for any government that does not have God directly speaking to guide it. This is not a definite implication of Romans 13:1; but it seems if God has established authorities, and those under them are to obey them, then other authorities should not interfere with their ability to govern by attacking them or invading their territory. Perhaps the Bible does endorse a general policy of noninterventionism and maintaining the status quo.

I suppose the application of all of this is to keep God's commands to obey authority in mind, to remember that He is the source of government, and to realize the foolishness of all the humanist rhetoric that is spouted concerning nationhood. Without God's establishment of government, there would be no earthly authority, only anarchy. In a materialistic world, nationhood is bizarre; with God, it's really pretty simple.