Can one, how does one, should one even attempt to respond theologically to a tsunami? The question could be considered in poor taste, and the answer initially no. But the answer becomes yes if only to counter the inadequate attempts. It has been said that philosophy as a discipline is only necessary because there exists so much bad philosophy. So may be the case with theology as well. Here goes...
Christian theodicy is comprised of three mutually contradictory propositions:
1. God is all good. Give up on this and you're a Manichaean.
2. God is all-powerful. Give up on this and you're Alfred North Whitehead.
3. Evil things happen. Give up on this and you're Mary Baker Eddy.
To surrender any one of these points would certainly be logical, but would result in a sub-Christian "answer" to the problem of evil. The Christian religion has no "answer" to the problem of evil. It offers both a whirlwind and a crucified savior instead.
Similar to the way the Church thought her way through the Trinity and Christology, the way forward for Christian theodicy entails subscription to impossible-to-reconcile propositions. By holding in faith to God's goodness and power while refusing to gloss the reality of evil one does lose the benefit of logical comprehension; but retained are the superior resources of hope, prayer, the mystery of the crucifix, and the call to do whatever one can do to help.
Tuesday, December 28, 2004
Sunday, December 26, 2004
Tuesday, December 21, 2004
Postmodernittygritty
What could be more conducive to holiday cheer than another millinerd post on postmodernity? (Please don't answer.)
Although Oliver Davies and David B. Hart both show a lot of potential, I will continue to promote this book on postmodernity. It's not the easiest read, but it reviews and celebrates the philosophical and scientific developments of postmodernity, expresses a generous openness to other religions, but all while managing to begin with these words,
Perhaps because, I'll suggest, postmodernity is not a crisis in the church. For the church it's merely an opportunity. Postmodernity is a crisis in the western mind. The crisis is due to the western mind having built a house on the sands of rationality. The storms have come, and that house has fallen. Only to the extent that the church has been yoked to the western mind is postmodernity a crisis in the church as well. As Pascal warned, the church should never have collaborated so closely with modernity in the first place, and so postmodernity should not have to be a crisis in the church.
Had the church not married the spirit of the age, she would not now be a widower so desperately clamboring for a mate. But unfortunately at least Protestantism and modernity got pretty cozy. Some have gone so far as to suggest that Protestantism and the modern mind are on parallel trajectories, due to their both having been born in the wake of the Renaissance (which would mean they're both doomed). Nevertheless, Karl Barth, and many since him, have tried to separate the trajectory of modernity from that of Protestantism. Barth wrote,
Meanwhile Hans Urs Von Balthasar, a Roman Catholic, was on a similar mission in his tradition, stuck as it was in a stale Neo-Scholasticism. Notice how Barth's influence on him is clear, for in justifying faith, Balthasar appeals to no abstract standards of modern rationality. He insists that faith must be judged by
Often when Christians, frightened by a relativist world, make claims to "Absolute Truth," they may unwittingly be continuing an unholy alliance with modernity, which claimed a universal standard of reason based on "self-evident" truths. But, if his Word is in fact reason itself, then it follows that Christians can make claims to "Absolute Truth" without being in bed with modernity. Jefferson may have been right, but when push comes to shove his rightness is based not on a planetary Enlightenmnet consensus, but on a basis he would never have assented to: Christ. In fact, if all things were made through him, and if his life is the light of everyone, then ability to make any coherent statement at all is, ultimately, based on Christ. Our words then do have meaning. They have meaning because the Word became flesh.
Lest the wind suddenly change, caution should always be employed when relating Christianity to reigning scientific theories. Nevertheless a comment on Einstein might here be helpful. His theory of relativity is often taken to support "relativism," But his theory was that all things are relative to the unchanging constant of the speed of light. In my reading of Einstein, which was revolutionized here, he was staggered not by how confusing and random the Universe was - he was staggered by the fact that the Universe is intelligible. That is what he meant when he said famously that "God does not play dice." In turn, a Christian realizes that the Universe is so intelligible because Christ, who is intelligibility itself, made it so; and then made humanity capable of discerning the patterns. (Or at least some of us - personally, physics has never been my best subject.)
That may seem like quite a claim to make, but Christian claims have never been small, no matter how moderns may have tried to tailor them.
Barth and Balthasar (and Diogenes Allen for that matter) are all post-foundational thinkers who have absolutely no dependence upon "modern" epistemology, but manage nevertheless to speak "as one with authority" in regard to the Gospel. So if asked "Why should I go to church?" a postmodern Christian can continue to answer as the Church has always answered, "Because Christianity's true," without having to appeal to anything essentially modern.
Although Oliver Davies and David B. Hart both show a lot of potential, I will continue to promote this book on postmodernity. It's not the easiest read, but it reviews and celebrates the philosophical and scientific developments of postmodernity, expresses a generous openness to other religions, but all while managing to begin with these words,
"Why should I go to church," someone once said to me, "when I have no religious needs?" I had the audacity to reply, "Because Christianity's true." (p.1)Now why would a book dripping with relief at the advent of postmodernity begin with such a seemingly "modern" statement?
Perhaps because, I'll suggest, postmodernity is not a crisis in the church. For the church it's merely an opportunity. Postmodernity is a crisis in the western mind. The crisis is due to the western mind having built a house on the sands of rationality. The storms have come, and that house has fallen. Only to the extent that the church has been yoked to the western mind is postmodernity a crisis in the church as well. As Pascal warned, the church should never have collaborated so closely with modernity in the first place, and so postmodernity should not have to be a crisis in the church.
Had the church not married the spirit of the age, she would not now be a widower so desperately clamboring for a mate. But unfortunately at least Protestantism and modernity got pretty cozy. Some have gone so far as to suggest that Protestantism and the modern mind are on parallel trajectories, due to their both having been born in the wake of the Renaissance (which would mean they're both doomed). Nevertheless, Karl Barth, and many since him, have tried to separate the trajectory of modernity from that of Protestantism. Barth wrote,
"I weep over the constantly increasing barbarism, tedium, and insignificance of modern Protestantism, which has gone and lost - apparently along with the Trinity and the Virgin Birth - an entire third dimension, the dimension of mystery... only to be punished with every possible worthless substitute. (Ii p.xi)Barth says the Protestant Church pawned off the Trinity, the Incarnation and any sense of mystery and wonder for what what turned out to be a worthless sack of modern rationality. Barth went on to rebuild the house on the rock, that is, the rock of the revelation of God in Christ. He insisted that we don't believe in abstract "propositions," we believe in Christ. Fortunately he had many resources to draw upon, because the Church, including its best thinkers, existed for quite a while before the Enlightenment. Now the awkward English translation of Barth is not the most beautiful way to access such postmodern insight... but what makes them appealing is when they were said. We in 2004 are just getting around to establishing this perspective as normative. Barth so articulated himself in, any guesses? the 60's? The 50's. Nope. The year was 1936.
Meanwhile Hans Urs Von Balthasar, a Roman Catholic, was on a similar mission in his tradition, stuck as it was in a stale Neo-Scholasticism. Notice how Barth's influence on him is clear, for in justifying faith, Balthasar appeals to no abstract standards of modern rationality. He insists that faith must be judged by
"its own interior authenticity, as faith in a proposition ('belief that Christ') becomes faith in a person ('believing Christ')Balthasar continues
"(p.137).
"Such a revelation of glory needs no justification but itself: God's Logos is the identity of God's free Word and of God's Resason; and, if the believer cannot at times penetrate the inner reasonableness of the free Word, nevertheless, from the sole fact that it is God speaking, he knows directly that his Word is Reason itself." (p.140).His Word is Reason itself. I've been chewing on that for month, as with only few other things, it just doesn't get old.
Often when Christians, frightened by a relativist world, make claims to "Absolute Truth," they may unwittingly be continuing an unholy alliance with modernity, which claimed a universal standard of reason based on "self-evident" truths. But, if his Word is in fact reason itself, then it follows that Christians can make claims to "Absolute Truth" without being in bed with modernity. Jefferson may have been right, but when push comes to shove his rightness is based not on a planetary Enlightenmnet consensus, but on a basis he would never have assented to: Christ. In fact, if all things were made through him, and if his life is the light of everyone, then ability to make any coherent statement at all is, ultimately, based on Christ. Our words then do have meaning. They have meaning because the Word became flesh.
Lest the wind suddenly change, caution should always be employed when relating Christianity to reigning scientific theories. Nevertheless a comment on Einstein might here be helpful. His theory of relativity is often taken to support "relativism," But his theory was that all things are relative to the unchanging constant of the speed of light. In my reading of Einstein, which was revolutionized here, he was staggered not by how confusing and random the Universe was - he was staggered by the fact that the Universe is intelligible. That is what he meant when he said famously that "God does not play dice." In turn, a Christian realizes that the Universe is so intelligible because Christ, who is intelligibility itself, made it so; and then made humanity capable of discerning the patterns. (Or at least some of us - personally, physics has never been my best subject.)
That may seem like quite a claim to make, but Christian claims have never been small, no matter how moderns may have tried to tailor them.
Barth and Balthasar (and Diogenes Allen for that matter) are all post-foundational thinkers who have absolutely no dependence upon "modern" epistemology, but manage nevertheless to speak "as one with authority" in regard to the Gospel. So if asked "Why should I go to church?" a postmodern Christian can continue to answer as the Church has always answered, "Because Christianity's true," without having to appeal to anything essentially modern.
Sunday, December 19, 2004
Saturday, December 18, 2004
I have updated my previous posts on both coin collecting and an obscure Carribean religion. But fear not - the executive staff here at millinerd.com have assured me that our servers are prepared to accomodate the tsunami of traffic that will inevitably result from this announcement.
Thursday, December 16, 2004
Sick of Bing yet?
Behold the top two millinerd Christmas albums:
1. Bruce Cockburn's (pronounced koeburn for those not in the know)Christmas album could perhaps best be described as "ethnic Canadian" music, for among other things its inclusion of the first Canadian hymn by Jean de Brebeuf. Bruce remarkably sings it in the Huron language (as Brebeuf intended). Incidentally, if ever there was an example of a deeply indigenous missionary that spreads the Gospel without the requisite culture-smothering... Brebeuf would be it. There are many more (St. Patrick, Matteo Ricci, etc., etc.).
2. Over the Rhine's almost spooky The Darkest Night of the Year is an assortment of reinterpretations (not all of them in my opinion successful) of the classic tunes. The new interpretations are "eerie" enough to remind that what we're dealing with is indeed the Mystery of the Incarnation, with which one can never be completely familiar.
Both B.C. and O.T.R. are Christians, but don't, shall we say, advertise the fact. As I've mentioned before, one certainly doesn't have to be a good person, let alone a Christian to be a phenomenal musician or artist... but especially when writing a Christmas album, it certainly helps.
1. Bruce Cockburn's (pronounced koeburn for those not in the know)Christmas album could perhaps best be described as "ethnic Canadian" music, for among other things its inclusion of the first Canadian hymn by Jean de Brebeuf. Bruce remarkably sings it in the Huron language (as Brebeuf intended). Incidentally, if ever there was an example of a deeply indigenous missionary that spreads the Gospel without the requisite culture-smothering... Brebeuf would be it. There are many more (St. Patrick, Matteo Ricci, etc., etc.).
2. Over the Rhine's almost spooky The Darkest Night of the Year is an assortment of reinterpretations (not all of them in my opinion successful) of the classic tunes. The new interpretations are "eerie" enough to remind that what we're dealing with is indeed the Mystery of the Incarnation, with which one can never be completely familiar.
Both B.C. and O.T.R. are Christians, but don't, shall we say, advertise the fact. As I've mentioned before, one certainly doesn't have to be a good person, let alone a Christian to be a phenomenal musician or artist... but especially when writing a Christmas album, it certainly helps.
Wednesday, December 15, 2004
Foucault or Foucauld?
I don't know about you, but the charged atmosphere of our postmodern ethos gets me really excited about Foucault... I mean de Foucauld.
Interestingly, both Michel Foulcault the philosopher and Charles de Foucauld the priest went to extremes in regard to their bodies. The former by exploring the extremes of L.S.D. mixed with sado-masochism in San Francisco, until the extremes of such conditions led to his untimely death; the latter by exploring the extremes of voluntary poverty among poor Muslims in North Africa, until the extremes of such conditions led to his untimely death.
Incidentally, the Pope has suggested de Foucauld as a model for Muslim-Christian dialogue, and it's no wonder why. Something tells me if I devoted my life to living among and suffering alongside their poorest, Muslims would be much more interested in what I had to say as well.
Interestingly, both Michel Foulcault the philosopher and Charles de Foucauld the priest went to extremes in regard to their bodies. The former by exploring the extremes of L.S.D. mixed with sado-masochism in San Francisco, until the extremes of such conditions led to his untimely death; the latter by exploring the extremes of voluntary poverty among poor Muslims in North Africa, until the extremes of such conditions led to his untimely death.
Incidentally, the Pope has suggested de Foucauld as a model for Muslim-Christian dialogue, and it's no wonder why. Something tells me if I devoted my life to living among and suffering alongside their poorest, Muslims would be much more interested in what I had to say as well.
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
I hope you're not at work or in a computer lab, because I highly suggest we all take a break, turn the sound on, and head over to D.J. Trainer. I hadn't been there for a while and didn't realize they added Reggae. (If anyone can tell me what that voice says upon entering the Reggae trainer, I will be grateful).
Friday, December 10, 2004
Were I an atheist, my response to this would be a witty, confident comeback aritcle entitled "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest."
And secretly I'd be kinda scared.
And secretly I'd be kinda scared.
Tuesday, December 07, 2004
Pomo-Pascal
There are many contemporary thinkers to choose from should one desire to unshackle the bonds of Enlightenment thinking... But why not also go to an Enlightenment thinker who saw much of what the Enlightenment was made of before much of what it was made of hit the fan? That would be Blaise Pascal. Read more...
Most people are familiar with Pascal's wager. Not as many are familiar with its origin. Pascal was the most brilliant mathematician of his day, and some of his advances led to probability calculation improvements, leading to an increase in gambling. As "atonement" for this proliferation of vice, when he became a Christian Pascal playfully applied his probablilty calculations to things of faith. Michael Sugrue jokes about the wager, calling it "Theology for accountants, where the smart money is on God," and Sugrue is right because he's having fun with Pascal. Pascal did not think his wager was a rational proof, it simply demonstrated that respectively one had nothing to lose. It's a playful propaedeutic... a stimulus towards knowledge. Pascal had way too little confidence in reason to think an argument could get anyone to God.
Having designed and built a computer in the 1600's, Pascal could have fit into the Age of Science quite well. But after having a religious experience, he saw Cartesian hubris for what it was, and called it to task. This conversion is what led Nietzsche to declare that
With "postmodern" insight centuries before its time, Pascal insists that the Enlightenment's hyper-logical Cartesians were simply making a category mistake. When it came to math and science the philosophes were absolutely right. An appeal to tradition and authority in those arenas didn't do much good (Aristotle had been surpassed). But the category mistake was to then assume that an appeal to tradition and authority was wrong across the board.
For other realms of knowledge such as law or theology, Pascal insists, tradition is a legitmate authority. The proper domain of authority are those things that are inacessible to reason. Centuries later John Henry Newman expressed the same idea when he wrote,
Postmodern thinkers today are just now catching up to Pascal and Newman, but nevertheless, I'll give the last word one of them:
Most people are familiar with Pascal's wager. Not as many are familiar with its origin. Pascal was the most brilliant mathematician of his day, and some of his advances led to probability calculation improvements, leading to an increase in gambling. As "atonement" for this proliferation of vice, when he became a Christian Pascal playfully applied his probablilty calculations to things of faith. Michael Sugrue jokes about the wager, calling it "Theology for accountants, where the smart money is on God," and Sugrue is right because he's having fun with Pascal. Pascal did not think his wager was a rational proof, it simply demonstrated that respectively one had nothing to lose. It's a playful propaedeutic... a stimulus towards knowledge. Pascal had way too little confidence in reason to think an argument could get anyone to God.
Having designed and built a computer in the 1600's, Pascal could have fit into the Age of Science quite well. But after having a religious experience, he saw Cartesian hubris for what it was, and called it to task. This conversion is what led Nietzsche to declare that
"I will never forgive Christianity for what it did to Pascal."What we can take from that statement is not only that, as you probably already knew, Nietzsche hated Christianity; but that a man as brilliant as Nietzsche saw in a mind as brilliant as Pascal an equal.
With "postmodern" insight centuries before its time, Pascal insists that the Enlightenment's hyper-logical Cartesians were simply making a category mistake. When it came to math and science the philosophes were absolutely right. An appeal to tradition and authority in those arenas didn't do much good (Aristotle had been surpassed). But the category mistake was to then assume that an appeal to tradition and authority was wrong across the board.
For other realms of knowledge such as law or theology, Pascal insists, tradition is a legitmate authority. The proper domain of authority are those things that are inacessible to reason. Centuries later John Henry Newman expressed the same idea when he wrote,
"Liberalism [in religion] then is the mistake of subjecting to human judgment those revealed doctrines which are in their nature beyond and independent of it, and of claiming to determine on intrinsic grounds the truth and value of propositions which rest for their reception simply on the external authority of the Divine Word" (p.219).That quote, well worth reading a second time, expresses Newman's critique of a Christianity that, instead of following the road of Pascal, bought Enlightenment rhetoric and began to try to explain the Christian faith within the domain of what was (then) considered reasonable. Immanuel Kant's "religion within the bounds of reason alone" comes to mind. Newman saw that this approach would ultimately erode the essential nature of the Christian faith, and Newman was right.
Postmodern thinkers today are just now catching up to Pascal and Newman, but nevertheless, I'll give the last word one of them:
"Because he is above the level of the senses and mind, any attempt to evaluate the truth of Christianity within the boundaries of science, philosophy, or history inevitable reduces God to the level of our comprehension. As a result, the God who is accepted or rejected is the God of the philosophers, as Pascal put it, not the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. This is often misunderstood by both those inside and outside the Church. For example, everyone agrees that we must have faith. But this is understood to mean that faith in necessary only because we do not have enough evidence to affirm the reality of God. That this is a mistaken understanding of faith is clear, for it implies that should we ever get enough evidence, faith would be unnecessary. But faith properly understood is, on the contrary, a response to a revelation of God, the revelation of a reality which is above reason. Faith in what is above reason is possible only because of some action within us by God. Faith is thus not a substitute for evidence but a response to God makde possible by him (p. 135-36).
Monday, December 06, 2004
Happy St. Nicholas day. It's quite a site. I particularly like the comparison of Santa and St. Nick.
And from Christian History comes St. Nick's mean streak:
And from Christian History comes St. Nick's mean streak:
When Constantine became emperor, Nicholas was released with countless others and returned to his preaching only to find a new threat: Arianism. According to one biographer (writing five centuries after Nicholas's death), "Thanks to the teaching of St. Nicholas, the metropolis of Myra alone was untouched by the filth of the Arian heresy, which it firmly rejected as a death-dealing poison." Other biographers claim Nicholas attacked the heresy of Arius (who denied the full divinity of Christ) in a much more personal way - he traveled to the Council of Nicea and slapped Arius in the face! As the story goes (and this should be taken as fantasy because there are pretty good records of the council, and Nicholas isn't mentioned), the other bishops at Nicea were shocked at such rude behavior and relieved him as bishop. But then Jesus and Mary appeared next to him, and they quickly recanted.Disclaimer: Millinerd does not actually advocate heretic abuse.
Saturday, December 04, 2004
It's millinerd's birthday! Millinerd (the blog, not the man) was born on Dec. 4th, 2003... The feast day of John of Damascus - the Saint that Protestants still just don't understand.
I should mention that of the multiform honors millinerd has received, none have been so moving as having been named Number 13 on the list of "bible dreadlock" resources at the Don't Worry Be Nappy website.
I should mention that of the multiform honors millinerd has received, none have been so moving as having been named Number 13 on the list of "bible dreadlock" resources at the Don't Worry Be Nappy website.
Friday, December 03, 2004
Finding Paradise Lost
The standard wisdom regarding Milton's Paradise Lost goes something like this: Sure, Milton may have been a devout Protestant Christian, but his writing subverts his faith. William Blake's critique - that Milton wrote better of Satan than of God because Milton was of Satan's party without knowing it - was correct. In retrospect we can see that Milton's Satan captured his readers' imagination more than Milton's God, leading to exactly the opposite effect than that which Milton intended.
To be fair, there's a lot to support this suggestion. After all, Milton was intimately tied to the more radical of Protestant sects still in rebellion against the Catholic Church, and he famously rebelled against Charles I and the Anglican bishops in support of Oliver Cromwell. So if Milton rebelled, and if Milton's Satan rebels - then they must be the same... or so goes the party line. But before you buy it, you might want to consider Peter Saccio's suggestion:
Now Milton admired heroic, defiant individualism... that admiration helped him to create the striking energy of Satan, and Blake was right to detect a vital current linking Milton and his devil. But that does not mean Milton was of the devil's party. Heroic defiance of itself is neither good nor evil, it is a quality necessary to sustain either good or evil. It's moral value depends upon the cause in which it is enlisted. It was a quality Milton knew well, but he can distinguish between Satan's cause which is personal alienation, envy, ambition revenge; and loyalty to the truth.Man do I love the Teaching Company.
In the poem there is another solitary figure which opposes the devil and his angel, the Seraph Abdiel."Then whom none with more zeal adored the deity and divine commands obeyed, stood up, and in a flame of zeal he spoke, 'Oh argument blasphemous false and proud... Shalt thou give Law to God?"Abdiel goes on to rip Satan's pretense for rebellion to logical shreds. And there is your virtuous, individual, defiant Protestant.
Wednesday, December 01, 2004
London - The Last Night
Speaking of Last Nights, do check out the Last Night Mash-Up mp3 from Lenlowland music... a theme which leads me to the unfortunate end of my week in Parad- I mean London.
Leaving the British Library I stumbled upon this famous statue, then it was another stop off at the British Museum to finish off a few rooms I missed, and finally to the Tate Modern. Commence rant now:
More Last Night...
The Tate Modern Museum was interesting. I had dinner in the little Cafe that they have in the Museum overlooking the City of London. What was interesting was that nobody in the kitchen, to my knowledge, tore up the British health board regulations declaring that was all bourgeois nonsense and proceeded to drip molten plastic into my meal to express their creativity. Furthermore it was intersting that the large warehouse that the art was contained in did not collapse during my visit. I expect this is because those licensed to refurbish it did not regard British building codes as oppressive imperialist nonsense to be heroically resisted. The reason this is all interesting, is that although the chefs and architects of the Tate modern see fit to abide by the standards of their respective disciplines for welfare of the public, the artists exhibited there do not.
Now I'm not a complete spoil sport. Amongst the Moderns I particularly like Lucien Freud, Spencer as I've mentioned, of course Rouault, and I even have a soft spot for Rothko and Mondrian... but these are the exceptions. As I've remarked before, Modern Art has simply dropped the ball. And as artists are the canaries in the cage of society, this is not good news for modern England.
But as I walked away from chaos of the Tate Modern, lamenting with Cicero, "O tempora, O mores..." something happened. Just as I finished crossing the Thames on the footbridge towards the luminous St. Paul's cathedral, my eye caught a Bible verse written prominently and artfully on the window, at eye level, of a major downtown scyscraper. Turns out this was the Salvation Army headquarters, and they wanted to tell those walking away from the Tate Modern that "I have come that you might have life, and have it more abundantly" (John 10:10)
So why let one really awful Museum spoil an incredible trip? Perhaps the Gospel is as alive as it's ever been in the England. I'm not gonna worry. She just might make it. In fact, she's come quite a ways.
Leaving the British Library I stumbled upon this famous statue, then it was another stop off at the British Museum to finish off a few rooms I missed, and finally to the Tate Modern. Commence rant now:
More Last Night...
The Tate Modern Museum was interesting. I had dinner in the little Cafe that they have in the Museum overlooking the City of London. What was interesting was that nobody in the kitchen, to my knowledge, tore up the British health board regulations declaring that was all bourgeois nonsense and proceeded to drip molten plastic into my meal to express their creativity. Furthermore it was intersting that the large warehouse that the art was contained in did not collapse during my visit. I expect this is because those licensed to refurbish it did not regard British building codes as oppressive imperialist nonsense to be heroically resisted. The reason this is all interesting, is that although the chefs and architects of the Tate modern see fit to abide by the standards of their respective disciplines for welfare of the public, the artists exhibited there do not.
Now I'm not a complete spoil sport. Amongst the Moderns I particularly like Lucien Freud, Spencer as I've mentioned, of course Rouault, and I even have a soft spot for Rothko and Mondrian... but these are the exceptions. As I've remarked before, Modern Art has simply dropped the ball. And as artists are the canaries in the cage of society, this is not good news for modern England.
But as I walked away from chaos of the Tate Modern, lamenting with Cicero, "O tempora, O mores..." something happened. Just as I finished crossing the Thames on the footbridge towards the luminous St. Paul's cathedral, my eye caught a Bible verse written prominently and artfully on the window, at eye level, of a major downtown scyscraper. Turns out this was the Salvation Army headquarters, and they wanted to tell those walking away from the Tate Modern that "I have come that you might have life, and have it more abundantly" (John 10:10)
So why let one really awful Museum spoil an incredible trip? Perhaps the Gospel is as alive as it's ever been in the England. I'm not gonna worry. She just might make it. In fact, she's come quite a ways.
London Day 7
A month after the trip and I'm finally finishing my intinerary... Here's the last day:
To balance out my experience with the H.T.B. Anglicans, I needed a good dose of English Catholicism - available at Westminster Cathedral (not to be confused with the Anglican Westminster Abbey). Unlike the Brompton Oratory which I found a bit dreary, this expression of English Catholicism was hopping, especially for a weekday mass... in Latin. Moreover the mass was held in the Chapel of St. George and the English Martrys. While digging for a new railroad in France they unearthed a graveyard, in which happened to lie one of the Jesuit missionaries who had been martyred in his attempte to minister to England when Catholicism was illegal. (Somehow they got his body back to Jesuit H.Q. in France, and now it's back in England.) Check out his silver face. That must have made going undercover as a Jesuit quite difficult. Not to mention the taunts of classmates during those difficult Middle School years.
More DAY 7
After a quick stop off at James Gibbs' St. Martin in the Fields (most American Churchs are built on the Wren/Gibbs model), it was off to the British Library for another culture binge. Here is an abridged list of what I saw:
1. A forged letter from "Jakob Richter" requesting permission from Russia to study at the British Library. The actual author was Lenin. It worked.
2. Manuscript copies (as in hand written by the authors) of the Halleluia Chorus, Beethoven, and (full stop... now resuming list with new category of accomplishment) John Lennon. They have headphones so you can listen to the music while reading. The Chorus actully made me weep. Of all the analogies to describe what the Bible is, the Bible as musical score is my favorite. The Bible is just the notes on the page - lifeless on their own, but waiting to be lived out in preaching, in the arts, or in the well-lived Christian life.
3. And speaking of the Bible, the British Library has Tischendorf's famous manuscripts. If you don't know the story of the Tischendorf discoveries... It's very interesting. They had them open to some interesting passages: One was open to a copy of the Gospel of Mark without the last chapter, one to a copy with the last chapter. Some biblical scholars refer to the ending of Mark as superfluous because the earliest manuscripts don't contain it. Whatever your opinion may be regarding this scribal variation, without that controversial chapter we would be without a significant episode in the life of St. Francis. If it wasn't for the verse in Mark 16:15 "Go into all the world and proclaim the good news to the whole creation," then Francis would never have preached to the birds. By the way - I'm not just being funny. That verse really is the reason that Francis did what he did. For visual aids, take your pick: Classic (Giotto) Contemporary (Spencer) or Kitsch (No artist from what I can tell will take the blame).
Incidentally, the reason this manuscript variation is such a big deal is quite simple: It's one of the only major ones. WIth just a quick glance at all the New Testament fragments at the Library, seeing how well they correspond to the Bible today should be evidence to anyone that, whether you believe in the message or not, the Bible is quite reliable indeed.
3. The earliest Beowulf manuscript. Like the Elgin marbles in the British Museum, Beowulf is important because it was read as an allegory for the English rising from wild barbarism to civilization.
4. Jane Eyre manuscript. Favorite line: After the minister asks at a wedding whether there is a reason why the couple should not be joined together, one character says "I declare the existence of an impediment."
5. William Butler Yeats manuscripts, read while I listened to his musical Irish voice recite his work. Man that guy was Irish.
6. The real Magna Carta!
7. Lindisfarne Gospels... but as pointed out by Far Country Tell, now electronically accessible.
To balance out my experience with the H.T.B. Anglicans, I needed a good dose of English Catholicism - available at Westminster Cathedral (not to be confused with the Anglican Westminster Abbey). Unlike the Brompton Oratory which I found a bit dreary, this expression of English Catholicism was hopping, especially for a weekday mass... in Latin. Moreover the mass was held in the Chapel of St. George and the English Martrys. While digging for a new railroad in France they unearthed a graveyard, in which happened to lie one of the Jesuit missionaries who had been martyred in his attempte to minister to England when Catholicism was illegal. (Somehow they got his body back to Jesuit H.Q. in France, and now it's back in England.) Check out his silver face. That must have made going undercover as a Jesuit quite difficult. Not to mention the taunts of classmates during those difficult Middle School years.
More DAY 7
After a quick stop off at James Gibbs' St. Martin in the Fields (most American Churchs are built on the Wren/Gibbs model), it was off to the British Library for another culture binge. Here is an abridged list of what I saw:
1. A forged letter from "Jakob Richter" requesting permission from Russia to study at the British Library. The actual author was Lenin. It worked.
2. Manuscript copies (as in hand written by the authors) of the Halleluia Chorus, Beethoven, and (full stop... now resuming list with new category of accomplishment) John Lennon. They have headphones so you can listen to the music while reading. The Chorus actully made me weep. Of all the analogies to describe what the Bible is, the Bible as musical score is my favorite. The Bible is just the notes on the page - lifeless on their own, but waiting to be lived out in preaching, in the arts, or in the well-lived Christian life.
3. And speaking of the Bible, the British Library has Tischendorf's famous manuscripts. If you don't know the story of the Tischendorf discoveries... It's very interesting. They had them open to some interesting passages: One was open to a copy of the Gospel of Mark without the last chapter, one to a copy with the last chapter. Some biblical scholars refer to the ending of Mark as superfluous because the earliest manuscripts don't contain it. Whatever your opinion may be regarding this scribal variation, without that controversial chapter we would be without a significant episode in the life of St. Francis. If it wasn't for the verse in Mark 16:15 "Go into all the world and proclaim the good news to the whole creation," then Francis would never have preached to the birds. By the way - I'm not just being funny. That verse really is the reason that Francis did what he did. For visual aids, take your pick: Classic (Giotto) Contemporary (Spencer) or Kitsch (No artist from what I can tell will take the blame).
Incidentally, the reason this manuscript variation is such a big deal is quite simple: It's one of the only major ones. WIth just a quick glance at all the New Testament fragments at the Library, seeing how well they correspond to the Bible today should be evidence to anyone that, whether you believe in the message or not, the Bible is quite reliable indeed.
3. The earliest Beowulf manuscript. Like the Elgin marbles in the British Museum, Beowulf is important because it was read as an allegory for the English rising from wild barbarism to civilization.
4. Jane Eyre manuscript. Favorite line: After the minister asks at a wedding whether there is a reason why the couple should not be joined together, one character says "I declare the existence of an impediment."
5. William Butler Yeats manuscripts, read while I listened to his musical Irish voice recite his work. Man that guy was Irish.
6. The real Magna Carta!
7. Lindisfarne Gospels... but as pointed out by Far Country Tell, now electronically accessible.
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