Some details subject to change (slightly). To pre-register go here.
P.S. We've heard that people are getting great deals on hotel rooms in the vicinity via booking.com. Also, word has it that AirTran is having particularly good sale this week, and Delta is matching the price points. Just sayin.
P.P.S. For a great and provocative discussion of keynote speaker Mark Galli's recent work, check out InternetMonk!
Ifyou agree—and only if you agree—Progressive Insurance will give you a device to install in your car that will rat you out for jack-rabbit starts and slamming on the brakes.* It's a small thing that plugs into your on-board diagnostic system, and it transmits as you drive. If your little minder shows that you don't act like Dale Earnhardt Jr. behind the wheel, you'll save up to 30 percent on your auto insurance. Although there's no official penalty for letting the company find out that you regularly lay down rubber, in fact you'll pay more for coverage than will tamer drivers. You'll also be acting to tame your own behavior by raising the price of recklessness. Progressive's driving spy is a sneaky example of the "precommitment device," a technique that people use to bind themselves to their preferred desires, and a subject I have been studying for my new book about the problem of self-control, We Have Met the Enemy.
But of course you could still ignore the salad on the desk and go out and drink your lunch, or you could take the radioactive sister-in-law to a concert. Most commitment techniques—including marriage—are just too easily circumvented. That's why truly binding precommitment devices are so interesting. The first known practitioner of such voluntary bondage was wily Odysseus, en route home from the Trojan War. As his ship approached the Sirens, he was determined to hear their song without, well, going overboard. Necessity being the mother of invention, he invented history's first precommitment device. "You must bind me tight with chafing ropes," our hero instructs in Robert Fagles' translation, "so I cannot move a muscle, bound to the spot, erect at the mast-block, lashed by ropes to the mast. And if I plead, commanding you to set me free, then lash me faster. …" . . .
Most of us really ought to make more use of such techniques, as Dean Karlan and John Romalis did. The two economists each agreed to lose 38 pounds in six months or forfeit half his annual income to the other. They made a similar deal to keep the weight off afterward. This all worked well enough that Karlan later went on to found stickK.com, a Web site that allows you to provide a credit card number and make a legally binding agreement to do (or not do) a certain thing. If you fail—and you can appoint a referee to decide—then you forfeit the money, which the site will give to a friend or enemy you've chosen. (You can also choose a charity you like—or one you hate, such as the George W. Bush or Bill Clinton library, which might be even more motivating.)
As a libertarian-leaning Democrat, I've tried to think of ways the government might help us with precommitment. Some states and Canadian provinces already allow gamblers to bar themselves from casinos for a period of years. In British Columbia, some gamblers on the self-exclusion registry got in anyway and lost several hundred thousand dollars. They sued the province and the casinos for failing to do what Jenny Holzer said: "Protect me from what I want."
What if we took this kind of thing further? One possibility might be to let people sign up to pay extra taxes based on the change in their weight. Health costs are largely socialized anyway, and there is precedent in the private sector, where insurers setting term-life premiums often take account of smoking, cholesterol, and other factors that individuals can influence. Another idea would be to require a driver's license or other I.D. for the purchase of cigarettes or alcohol. The state would offer to emblazon these "NO TOBACCO," for example, until the next renewal, perhaps three years later. During that time stores couldn't sell you the stuff.
Modern life is a wonderful thing, rife with freedom and opportunity, but it comes with the problem of self-control. That's a nice problem, since I can't think of anyone else I'd want to be in charge. Yet most of us are probably kidding ourselves if we think willpower alone can do the job. Much better to make like Odysseus and face the music in safety.
2011 NYC MOCKINGBIRD CONFERENCE: PRE-REGISTRATION NOW OPEN!
Control and Freedom. Two words that dominate the emotional, spiritual and cultural landscape. Also two words that many of us spend our lives chasing after, mistaking one for the other, or believing they go hand-in-hand. Yet how friendly are these terms? What is the actual relation between freedom and personal control? Please join us this Spring in NYC as we explore how God’s grace calms our fears, upsets our controls, and inspires freedom in the way we live, work and love.
Our keynote speaker this year will be Mark Galli, Senior Managing Editor of Christianity Today. Other speakers include Jady Koch and David Zahl of Mockingbird, with a series of devotions from conference chaplain Paul Zahl. There will also be eight breakout sessions, from a number of other Mockingbird contributors, covering a wide range of topics, from film, music and literature to parenting and aspects of life in local churches. Full schedule coming Feb 1st.
If the pastthree years are anything to go by, the conference is sure to be a time of warmth, fun and maybe even a little emancipation. Needless to say, if you enjoy our site, you will love our conference! It is open to anyone and everyone – our hope at Mockingbird is always to keep things as down-to-earth as possible – just be sure to pre-register ASAP, as space is limited.
Also, we'll be sending out the hard-copy invitations next week to everyone on our mailing list. If you would like extras, to distribute at your church/Whole Foods/street corner, please email us at info@mbird.com.
The bells of waiting Advent ring, The Tortoise stove is lit again
And lamp-oil light across the night
Has caught the streaks of winter rain. In many a stained-glass window sheen
From Crimson Lake to Hooker's Green.
The holly in the windy hedge
And round the Manor House
the yewWill soon be stripped to deck the ledge, The altar, font and arch and pew, So that villagers can say
'The Church looks nice' on Christmas Day.
Provincial public houses blaze And Corporation tramcars clang,
On lighted tenements I gaze
Where paper decorations hang,
And bunting in the red Town Hall Says 'Merry Christmas to you all'
And London shops on Christmas Eve
Are strung with silver bells and flowers
As hurrying clerks the City leave To pigeon-haunted classic towers,
And marbled clouds go scudding by
The many-steepled London sky.
And girls in slacks remember Dad, And oafish louts remember Mum, And sleepless children's hearts are glad,
And Christmas morning bells say 'Come!'
Even to shining ones who dwell Safe in the Dorchester Hotel.
And is it true? and is it true?
The most tremendous tale of all, Seen in a stained-glass window's hue,
A Baby in an ox's stall?
The Maker of the stars and sea Become a Child on earth for me?
And is it true? For if it is, No loving fingers tying strings
Around those tissued fripperies,
The sweet and silly Christmas things, Bath salts and inexpensive scent
And hideous tie so kindly meant.
No love that in a family dwells, No carolling in frosty air,
Nor all the steeple-shaking bells
Can with this single Truth compare - That God was Man in Palestine
And lives to-day in Bread and Wine.
Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t have a big problem with the (so-called) “commercialization of Christmas.” The world’s economy has to be based on something, and that it rests on a season where people are, ostensibly, buying gifts for others, well, it could be worse! To hear some people, you’d think that attempt to express relationships (or lack thereof) in material terms was invented by Hallmark, but they seem to ignore the long history of giving gifts to pay homage, respect and even, yes, love (gasp). What’s more, we have gifts enshrined in the very Christmas story itself, and given the stability of gold, you can count me in as a very, very traditional Christian with respect to gift giving; none of those pagan-influenced poly/cotton blend socks for me! Sure, there have always been dandelion necklaces and candy rings, but “true love,” has always involved sacrifice, and two-months of your salary really does say something about where your heart is.
It is just this connection between love and
sacrifice that makes a Christ-less Christmas so tragic, because the true "reason for the season" has been lost: freedom. Every cost/benefit gift calculation about how much to spend to express your love, or resentment over not enough love (i.e., an Amazon Kindle) received, is a further symptom of the abiding inner darkness that can not be overcome by twinkle lights, but can be endured with copious amounts of eggnog. And, the “I’m rejecting Christmas” people are no better, because, as we often point out, being captivated or repulsed by the same thing is still bondage. The Law, as it were, takes no prisoners. We are, literally, dammed if we do and dammed if we don’t to a life where there is always a catch and nothing is truly free.
Whatever the motivation for people coming together on the 25th of December, Christians can celebrate the fact that, because of the Cross, they are under no obligation to celebrate Christmas in any way other than the one that they choose, because all such celebrations have been made value-neutral by the end of sacrificial giving to God. The true message of Christmas is that “Christ Jesus has come into the world to save sinners,” and that includes sinners for whom law based gift giving continues. But, in Christ, there are no more honors, no more sacrifices, no more bargaining with God, just a message to be heard: “Now after John was arrested, Jesus came into Galilee, proclaiming the gospel of God,and saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel.”Mark 1:15.
For those of you who do not live in overwhelmingly Roman Catholic countries, today was probably a normal workday; however, whether they know it or not, the people of Austria who were celebrating der Rhuetag, can thank Pope Pius IX and his 1854 pronouncement ex cathedra regarding the obligation of the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. According to David Mills over at First Things, this Marian Dogma declares that:
the most Blessed Virgin Mary, in the first instance of her conception, by a singular grace and privilege granted by Almighty God, in view of the merits of Jesus Christ, the Savior of the human race, was preserved free from all stain of original sin, is a doctrine revealed by God and therefore to be believed firmly and constantly by all the faithful.
Now, I am not interested in theo-wrestling with more able, capable and energetic bloggers over this particular dogma of the Roman church, and since I’ve said my piece about how Mary can--in a very Protestant way---be seen as a model of Justificaiton sola fidein this previous lenten post, I thought that I would just repost the entire thing here. If you've gotten this far, then the rest is certainly worth a read:)
In his reflection on John 19:26---"Woman, behold thy Son"---the third word of Jesus from the cross,Stanley Hauerwas observes that “Dante called Mary, ‘Virgin Mother, daughter of thy Son.'” This, he asserts, “challenges any assumption that Jesus’s address to Mary from the cross is simply an example of a son’s solicitude for his mother’s welfare”(49). He goes on to point out that Jesus, throughout the Gospels, is portrayed as not exactly “family friendly” (at least in an blood relation sense--Mark 3:34-35, Luke 14:26). For Hauerwas, Mary's importance lies in the existence of her faith, not her motherhood. Following Raniero Cantalamessa, Hauerwas argues, “Mary is our Abraham. Just as Abraham did not resist God’s call to leave his father’s country to go to a new land, so Mary did not resist God’s declaration that she would bear a child through the power of the Holy Spirit. Abraham’s faith foreshadows Mary’s ‘Here I am’ because just as we are Abraham’s children through faith, so we become children of the new age inaugurated in Christ through Mary’s faithfulness.” (51-52). Protestants of the world, unite:)
Now, I am painfully aware that in discussions on the Virgin Mary, we are entering into theological territory burned over by years of doctrinal infighting between Christians of all colors and stripes. I do not want to disregard her importance to theological discourse, nor to dismiss anyone’s strong opinions on the matter, but in keeping with my Lenten devotions, I am going to focus on Mary in light of the concept of the deus absconditus--the "presence of God’s absence." For anyone interested, there are excellent treatments of the ongoing theological discourse surrounding Mary here and here.
Despite the heated discussion, there is a commonality to most of the discussion surrounding Mary: a shared belief that she is a model of faith to be emulated; however, from our (monergistic) perspective—that faith is solely a gift from God---the Unitarian Mary as moral exemplar has to go. This does not mean that we have no place for Mary, nor does it mean that her faith is not an example to us all, but, like Abraham, it is not the quantity of her faith but its existence that is important: "he believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness (Rm. 4:3). Mary is one to whom the gift of faith was given and is someone we can rightly hold up as a model of justification sola fide.
In an attempt to put the recent elections in an eternal perspective, I’ve been listening to a wonderful (if not somewhat depressing) podcast from PBS called "God in America," which chronicles the entire complex history of American self-identity with respect to religion. Repeated throughout the show is the argument that America--through its unique blend of religious piety and baptized self-reliance (infant and adult)--has become “the most religiously diverse nation on the planet.” However, despite this outward diversity, over the six hours of listening , what struck me was how uniform the underlying American religious impulse is. Sure, there are countless denominations and churches and religions, but deep down, are they really that different? I’m not so sure. 400 years or so before Jesus, Aristotle argued that hard work, determination and the cultivation of the virtues would result in a new hexis---a new state of being---that would result in eudemonia: "your best life now." This cultivation, otherwise known as mimetic participation in the good---practicing a pleasant expression, for instance—would actually create this good within you, and was the key to happiness.
Therefore, when Jesus is read as a good Aristotelian, his otherwise damning pronouncement in Matthew 5:48, “You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect,” becomes the great cosmic finish line in the sky, thus setting the boundaries for our so-called “Faith Journey”(or some other similarly meaningless phrase). And, since this Greek word that is often translated as “perfect”—telos—can be understood as an end, culmination, as the “acme of perfection,” it is almost universally argued, that Jesus is pointing people towards the end, towards Dante's Beatrice and the Beatific Vision. The Good Life, then, becomes a process of progression towards that goal. What looks like religious diversity is really more of a disagreement over direction and emphasis, but within the same system of eudaimonistic salvation, the same religion: faith + works=happiness. [CONTINUE READING]
Luther didn't start the fire: St. Augustine of Hippo (354-430)
In the year 427/428, St. Augustine endeavored to reevaluate his prolific writings in order to correct them of “anything that offends me or might offend others (Augustine, 8) Among his various corrections and explanations, he offered a new insight into his interpretation of the identity of the speaker in Romans 7.14-25. Referencing his book entitled An Explanation of Certain Passages from the Epistle of the Apostle to the Romans,he states: In this book I said: “However, when he says, ‘We know that the Law is spiritual; but I am carnal, adequately shows that the law can be fulfilled only by spiritual men, the kind that the grace of God transforms,” I certainly did not want this applied personally to the Apostle who was already spiritual, but to the man living “under the “Law” but not yet “under grace.” For prior to this time, in this was I understood these words which, at a later date . . . I reflected upon this more deeply and I saw that his own words can also be understood about he Apostle himself: “We know that the Law is spiritual; but I am carnal ( 96-97).
Luther didn't start the fire: Girolamo Savonarola (1452-1498)
From here: (born Sept. 21, 1452, Ferrara, duchy of Ferrara — died May 23, 1498, Florence) Italian preacher, religious reformer, and martyr. He joined the Dominican order in 1475 and was sent to Florence to lecture at the convent of San Marco, where he became known for his learning and asceticism. His apocalyptic preaching maintained that the church needed reforming, that it would be scourged and then renewed. After the overthrow of the Medici family (1494), Savonarola became leader of Florence, setting up a democratic but severely puritanical government, notable for its "bonfire of the vanities," in which frivolous materials were burned. He also sought to establish a Christian republic as a base for reforming Italy and the church. He was opposed by the Arrabiati, supporters of the Medici, and by Pope Alexander VI, who attempted to restrain his unusual interpretations of scripture and his claim of prophecy. Savonarola was tried, convicted of heresy (1498), and hanged and burned. Despite popular veneration, attempts to bring about his canonization have been unsuccessful. [CONTINUE READING]
Luther didn't start the fire: Peter Waldo (1170-1184)
From here:Some men's personal lives are eclipsed by the movements they start. Peter Waldo was such a man. He appears on the scene of history in 1170 in Lyons as a successful businessman who, touched to his core by a traveling minstrel's religious ballad, gave away his money to live in poverty as a preacher of the Gospel. Having persuaded a sympathetic priest to translate large sections of the New Testament from Latin into the regional language, Provençal, Peter wandered through Lyons, bringing the message of Christ to anyone who would listen to him. He soon had the Gospels memorized. A number of young men, impressed by his intelligence and sincerity , followed him in giving away their possessions and found a new joy and freedom in living according to the spirit of the Gospels.
Some priests of Lyons, disturbed by Peter's popularity, tried to curb his activities. Peter appealed directly to Pope Alexander III in Rome. The Pope responded in 1179 by praising the group's poverty but said that because they had no theological training they could preach only if the archbishop of Lyons gave them permission. The Waldenses, as they had come to be known, felt that their message was too important to be checked by traditional Church discipline, and they rejected the Pope's directive. They were excommunicated at a Church council in Verona by the next pope, Lucius III, in 1184.
The Waldenses continued to live by their understanding of the New Testament rather than by the procedures of the Church. They refused to accept the existence of purgatory because it is not in the Bible. They rejected the practice of venerating the saints for the same reason. Not just priests, they said, but any person can consecrate the sacramental bread and wine. They rejected the authority structure of the Church as unbiblical. Their refusal to take oaths and also to participate in war made them unpopular with the secular as well as the Church authorities. Peter Waldo himself was not heard from after his excommunication in 1184. His followers were harassed by the Inquisition. They escaped when possible to the nearly inacessible mountain regions of northern Italy, where Waldo's ideas managed to survive over the centuries despite periodic attempts by Church authorities to eliminate them. More Here.
Luther didn't start the fire: John Wycliffe (1324-1384)
From here: John Wycliffe lived almost 200 years before the Reformation, but his beliefs and teachings closely match those of Luther, Calvin and other reformers. As a man ahead of his time, historians have called Wycliffe the "Morning star of the Reformation." Born in the 1300s, Wycliffe criticized abuses and false teachings in the Church. In 1382 he translated an English Bible—the first complete European translation done in nearly 1,000 years. The Lollards, itinerant preachers he sent throughout England, inspired a spiritual revolution.But the Lollardy movement was short-lived. The Church expelled Wycliffe from his teaching position at Oxford, and 44 years after he died, the Pope ordered his bones exhumed and burned. Intense persecution stamped out his followers and teachings. It would be hundreds of years before men like Martin Luther resurrected the reforms of which Wycliffe dreamed. [CONTINUE READING]
In celebration of Reformation Day, in addition to Luther, we'll be looking at some of those reformers who are, perhaps, lesser known, but nevertheless paved his way--usually with their lives. One of the pervasive misconceptions about the Reformation is that it was a creation of that fateful day with the hammer in Wittenberg. In fact, as important and decisive as his contribution was, Luther stood on the shoulders of many who had gone before him, people who had been pulling the Papal thread of the re-sewn Temple curtain. Jan Hus was one of these people. From here:
One of Wycliffe’s followers, Jan Hus, actively promoted Wycliffe’s ideas: that people should be permitted to read the Bible in their own language, and they should oppose the tyranny of the Roman church that threatened anyone possessing a non-Latin Bible with execution. Hus was burned at the stake in 1415, with Wycliffe’s manuscript Bibles used as kindling for the fire. The last words of John Hus were that, “in 100 years, God will raise up a man whose calls for reform cannot be suppressed.” Almost exactly 100 years later, in 1517, Martin Luther nailed his famous 95 Theses of Contention (a list of 95 issues of heretical theology and crimes of the Roman Catholic Church) into the church door at Wittenberg. More (of course) here.
In case you missed it. From the LATimes:The artist known as Banksy is famous for his stealth graffiti projects that mix social commentary and subversive street art. In keeping with his rebel persona, Banksy's guest "appearance" on "The Simpsons" on Sunday night [Oct. 10] was an unpredictable affair that mixed the anarchically humorous and the deadly serious. Banksy helped to design the opening credits for Sunday evening's episode. . .Banksy created an extended sequence that took viewers on a hellish tour of sweatshop labor in Asia. Workers are shown toiling away on animation cels and merchandise tie-ins for the hit Fox series. (It just so happens that "The Simpsons" outsources much of its animation to South Korea.)The final image shows the Twentieth Century Fox logo standing big brother-like over a militarized police zone.
From our perspective, stay with me here, the freedom that was given to Banksy and the willingness Fox showed is the same as that afforded Christians towards the church by the Doctrine of Justification by Grace through Faith alone. Part of Fox's freedom, no doubt, came from their confidence that many of the critiques were unwarranted; however, there was something deeply Protestant about the whole pre-episode episode.
As the vestiges of Christendom continue to fall away and (as if we needed a survey to tell us that), many people--uncomfortable with the lack of controls (read: Law) placed upon those to whom the Gospel is proclaimed---have beaten a hasty retreat into the arms of external authorities. These authorities--like circumcision did in Galatia--seem to provide safe-haven from the storms of post-modernity, pluralism, and Ru Paul's Drag Race. Fifty years ago, Gerhard Ebeling, also observing this sort of weakness, commented that it manifested in a variety of ways: “a new theological dogmatism and traditionalistic confessionalism, high-church clericalism and sacramentalism, an over-simplification through insistence on pietistic edification or else through catchword theology, radicalism, confessional rhetoric, etc.”Not much has changed.
Far from championing some sort of neo-Gnostic Huffington Post type “spirituality of hugging” on one hand, or a moralized “follower of Jesus” on the other, this emphasis on Justification by Faith Alone and, in particular, the proper distinction between Law and Gospel, provides courage to proclaim the death and resurrection of Christ in the face of a world that is chained to unbelief masquerading as pious religiosity, to a world that is enslaved to the Law. That we would be unable to afford God His due without recourse to if/then purpose-driven eudamenism, formulaic religious structures, or baptized sociological dogma is a curse of the Fall. BUT, that people abuse and turn the Gospel into vague sentimentality, hedonistic license or empty, self-serving platitudes is not as bad as turning it into a Law. Misused freedom is a problem; the absence of freedom is a tragedy.
A few excerpts from the preface to the English edition of Gerhard Ebeling's Word and Faith(pp.9-10), because it is never too early to begin celebrating Reformation Day:)
We can give expression to our own theological aim only by trying to say what it is that counts in present-day theological work as a whole. Our own theology must be nothing else but a contemporary attempt to answer for theology as such. Answering for something implies, as does the concept of witness, two things: staking our person, in dedication to the matter concerned. Hence it can never be a question for forcing our own theology on to others and making it a law to them, but only of offering our own limited and transitory services as the means of making others free to observe their theological responsibility for themselves. . .
. . . to take our bearings from the theology of the Reformers and at the same time to take modern thought seriously seems to be incompatible, or possible only by means of sorry compromises. For me, however, my vocation as a theologian stands or falls with the opposite view. For we can be evangelical theologians neither without the Reformers’ understanding of the Gospel nor without thinking within the field of present-day experience of reality. . .
My experience and conviction as a theological thinker is this: that there is no need to construct a supplementary and artificial bond between what belongs to the Reformation and to the modern age. Rather, both come properly to light only in mutual encounter, and thus when they are considered together. ..
I ran across this fascinating article by Dr. Samuel Wells, dean of Duke University Chapel, entitled Forgiveness and the Justice of God, on the relationship between justice and forgiveness that is right up our law/gospel alley. Although our ruminations can, at times, seem like abstract speculation, forgiveness is the concrete act where these ideas take flesh. Of course, following Derrida, we have to admit that "pure forgiveness" is impossible, but, then again, so is rising from the dead ;-) Here are some excerpts:
One feature of American life that has always fascinated me is the degree to which the Supreme Court has become the focal point of its culture. Most Americans seem to believe that the best place to discover right and wrong, to identify good and bad, and to resolve ambiguity, is through legal judgment.
The risk is that the attention given to getting the rules right can distract from the fact that a healthy society is always primarily about relationships and only secondarily about rules. It is only when both of these dimensions are working harmoniously that we might say that we have reached a point that could be called justice. . .
So this is what the story of Naboth's vineyard is comprehensively showing us. Justice unravels when we lose sight of who we are in relation to God, and, once justice has had a great fall, it's a tall order to put it back together again.
There really is only one thing that can make things better. There really is only one thing that can make any difference in a situation where you can't bring Naboth back. There really is only one thing that can prevent an act of merciless force and the crushing of an innocent life turn into a spiral of retribution, a vendetta of vindictiveness and a cascade of vigilante revenge.
And that single thing is forgiveness. . .
Forgiveness says, "You can hurt me, but you can't take away my allegiance to Christ. You can be cruel to me, but you can't make me become like you. You can crush me, but you can't put yourself outside the mercy of God."
Why do we forgive? Because we don't want to turn into creatures of bitterness locked up in the past, and we don't want to be given over to a hatred that lets those who've hurt us continue to dominate our lives.
Why do we forgive? Because unlike Simon we know we're sinners too and we can't withhold from others the forgiveness we so desperately need for ourselves. That's why in the Lord's Prayer we say "Forgive us ... as we forgive those ..."
Why do we forgive? Because Jesus in his cross and resurrection has released the most powerful energy in the universe and we want to be part of it and be filled with it.
Why do we forgive? Because we know that every form of justice, all the systems for setting things straight, have failed.
Why do we forgive? Because Jesus is dying for us to forgive. Jesus is dying for us to stop our shame and secrecy and beg for forgiveness. Jesus is dying for us to end our enmity and hard-heartedness and offer the hand of mercy.
Why do we forgive? Because forgiveness is the justice of God. . .
I ran across a review by John Cottingham--Professor Emeritus of Philosophy at the University of Reading and an Honorary Fellow of St John's College, Oxford--over at Standpoint entitled: It's Not God Who Needs Saving--It's Us, that adds to the long line of arguments and counter-arguments about the veriticality of Dostoyevsky's operating thesis: If God does not exist, then everything is permitted. He reviews two books from self-proclaimed atheists who are trying to incorperate what we would call a "spirituality of the cross" into their naturalistic worldviews. Hmmm. . .
Adding to the ongoing discussion about the Pope's recent comments at Westminster Hall, comments that build upon his Gespräch with Jürgen Habermas, Dr. Cottingham's essay is both provocative and timely, particularly as the Western world (following most church bodies, sadly) moves closer and closer to "thus says the Lord" being synonymous with 51%. It doesn't really lend itself to a digest version, but hopefully these quotes will whet your appetite:
The "undergraduate atheists" have had their day. The spiritually deaf onslaught of Richard Dawkins, Christopher Hitchens and their ilk has presented such an unfair and one-sided picture of religion that not only has it won few converts, but it may even have aided the cause of faith. If such crude tactics are the best the militant atheists can come up with (many open-minded readers must have thought) then perhaps religion is worth a second look after all.
Of much greater interest, and vastly more intellectual sophistication, are two books, one by the Princeton philosopher Mark Johnston, the other by the French best-selling author André Comte-Sponville, formerly of the Sorbonne. Both are inspired by the achievements of modern science, both firmly reject the traditional idea of a transcendent creator and yet both are sympathetic to our long heritage of spirituality, whose riches they would like to preserve if humanly possible. . .
. . . And now comes the distinctive twist. There is, Johnston argues, "a religious argument...that we should hope that ontological naturalism is true. For ontological naturalism would be a complete defense against...our tendency to servile idolatry and spiritual materialism." Spiritual materialism involves retaining our ordinary selfish desires (for security, comfort, success, etc) and trying to get them satisfied by manipulating supposed supernatural forces. Idolatry is similar, placating the gods to get what we want. Authentic spirituality, by contrast, must address the "large-scale structural defects in human life" — arbitrary suffering, aging, our and our loved ones' vulnerability to time and chance and, ultimately, death. The religious or redeemed life, Johnston argues, is one where we are reconciled to these large-scale defects.
Johnston's achievement here is to grasp the crucial difference that authentic religion makes to ethics — to the whole question of how we should live. The ordinary secular virtues (self-confidence, fairness, good judgment, etc) "take life on its own unredeemed terms and make the most of it". By contrast, the theological virtues (faith, hope, love) are "not merely intensifications of ordinary virtue, but conditions of a transformed or redeemed life". Johnston, unlike the "undergraduate atheists" (the aptly pejorative label is his own coinage), is deeply sympathetic to the resonant insights of Scripture — for example, the story of the Fall, which shows how we are by our nature caught in an oscillation between self-will and the "false righteousness" which conforms to the good out of fear or self-interest.
I ran across this interview with Martin Sheen and Emilio Esteves about their new movie called The Way, about the famous 500 mile Jacob's Way pilgrimage from from the French Pyrenees to Santiago de Compostela, which had some wonderful bits about religion and spirituality and the intersection of the two. Here is the final section:
I really appreciate that you're trying to deal with religion and spirituality in this movie in an open-minded, non-cynical fashion, without totally embracing it or totally rejecting it. That's a difficult thing to do. Our country is so messed up around religion. M.S.: No kidding! [Laughter.] I know -- what a brilliant observation, right? But you guys call our attention here to a tradition of Western spirituality that runs deep in our European roots and has very little to do with organized religion. The Camino de Santiago is a perfect example. I feel like so many educated Westerners go toward the Eastern spiritual traditions partly because they don't see that or understand it. E.E.:Sure, they want a response to the dogma of Christianity. They go to Hinduism, they go to Buddhism, just because it's something different than their parents. They want to get away from that. I think it's a knee-jerk reaction. M.S.:Religions separate us, by their very nature. Spirituality unites us. That's the key, and if spirituality is not about humanity, it's not spiritual. I am a practicing Catholic. I love the faith. I'm not nuts about the institution, but the faith is mine, everywhere I go in the world. The belief that God became human -- that's genius, man. And that God would choose to dwell where we would least likely look, inside ourselves and each other. The genius of God in our humanity, I love that.
Every culture has that -- the Hindus, Muslims, all of them have it. That's the fundamental belief in all true believers, that God is present, God suffers and is broken with us. That's why the Catholics never removed the corpse from the cross. Our hero is a convicted criminal. He was tried and convicted in a kangaroo court and then he was murdered. That's God. We're embraced by that. The most fundamental, most basic, most sincere beliefs -- that's not religion. It's spirituality. It's transcendence. People are looking for transcendence now more than ever, I think. Sometimes our transcendence becomes drugs, alcohol, money, power, sex, and they're so shallow. It's we ourselves, we must surrender ourselves to our brokenness. That's the beginning of community, and that's what this film is all about.
Some beautiful theological insights from an unlikely source, but one wonders what Hindu and Muslim theologians he is reading. While there are conceptions of life, death and rebirth in many religions, there is only one that puts an incarnate, crucified God at its center. In fact, one could argue that in the Jesus we see the death of "generalized spirituality," as few things could be less "transcendent" than a crucifixion, but we get what he's saying, and his theological reflections have raised the bar from what we have come to expect from Hollywood. . . I can't wait to see this movie. [CONTINUE READING]
It has been a while since I've updated our ITunesU Mockingsyllabus, so consider this some last-minute beach listening pleasure for all of you who are looking for a way to pass the time putting the finishing touches on your tan. For all of you who want to broaden the repertoire of your innocuous Cocktail banter by adding "relative successes of the Vietnam War" to Original Sin, Law/Gospel and the bound will, this collection is for you.
1. History of the International System: James Sheehan, Stanford
In our polarized world of sound-bite partisanship, it is instructive and humbling to actually learn about how complicated and difficult the modern political system has become. This class will make you think twice (or for the first time) the next time you read Nicholas Kristof or Glen Beck.
2. Reading the Decalogue: Wheaton
God knows that this will not be the last word on His (in)famous 10, but this collection of differing interpretations of the 10 Commandments within different theological systems is required listening for anyone who is interested in the way the concept of the Law has been utilized in theology throughout history. Of particular interest to us are the lectures on Luther, Calvin, Lancelot Andrewes and Barth. On the whole, and for what it's worth, it confirmed my suspicions of Calvin, further confused me about Barth, deepened my appreciation of Luther and gave creedence to the argument that "morality" is the real (and unfortunate) Anglican heritage. Listen to it and see what you think!
3. Aesthetics: Jeffrey Wattles, Kent State University
From Plato to Derrida, this class helps illustrate that there is neither a spoon nor a line between the questions raised by theology and philosophy.
4. Christ and Human Thought: Cornelius van Til, Westminster Theological Seminary
This is an example of the way the word "theologian" used to be synonymous with "polymath." The audio is a little weak, but this is well worth the effort.
5. Worldview Everlasting: Revd. Jonathan Fisk
Ever been embarassed by your inability to explain the theological and pastoral significance of the Genus Maiestaticum? If so, there is good news: you no longer have to live in fear or shame. While not technically an offering from ITUnesU--yet--Rev. Fisk (whom some of you may have met at the recent Mockingbird conference) has a 10 minute video podcast that will make all of your wildest dreams come true.
Well, that's about it. I would love to hear of any classes you all have found helpful and/or interesting. Day-by-day, you too can atone for the time you spent perfecting your foosball goalie shot (see below) instead of applying yourself to more "traditional" educational opportunities.
