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.