This should be the integrity election

but I’m pretty sure it won’t be.We have, running for president, a man of an unusually long and clear record of integrity in political life, in John McCain—not spotless, no, but several standard deviations above the norm—versus a man who has no such record, in Barack Obama, who abandoned his pledge to take public financing, whose campaign has taken deliberate steps to enable illegal donations, whose past is still largely unexamined (and who has taken significant steps to keep it that way), and who has shown himself willing to enlist surrogates, including political supporters and government agencies, to destroy those who challenge him, if they can. It’s gotten to the point, if I were a liberal, I still wouldn’t vote for Sen. Obama—I’d be organizing a write-in campaign for Hillary Clinton.

Worthy of honor

I know I’ve mentioned our time in Vancouver, British Columbia, where I attended seminary at Regent College, and how much I enjoyed both the school and the city. Living the young married student life, we didn’t have the money to take advantage of nearly as much in the city as we would have liked to—the time Ragtime came through the Chan Center, for instance; one of my classmates who was a Juilliard graduate went and told us all about the performance, but tickets for that were nowhere near our budget—but we did what we could, and there were always a great many wonderful opportunities to choose from.From an arts perspective, one of the best of those opportunities was, and continues to be, the Pacific Theatre, a small company with a large artistic vision and the ability to back it up. PT had a fair bit of difficulty establishing itself in highly secular Vancouver because that vision is uncompromisingly Christian: co-founder and artistic director Ron Reed is another former Regent student who considered being a pastor for a while. The key is that his vision isn’t Christian in the VeggieTales sense, but something broader and deeper; as he put it in an interview with CanadianChristianity.com,

I, and the company, are preoccupied with the things Jesus talked about and embodied: reconciliation, forgiveness, restoration, new life and a new start, the supernatural, ethical and moral decisions, and peace and justice. So we put on plays that explore these themes.

The result is art which honors God not merely in its message, but in its quality; PT does good work, and so has earned a hearing, and a following, and a great deal of respect, in a city that loves art but does not love the church.

Rory Holland declared: “Ron Reed’s singular vision, accompanied by the many people who have stood beside him, has provided Vancouver a unique theatre experience. Often we see theatre as just another mode of entertainment.”PT, he asserted, “chose more, chose to see the stage as a place where people can be moved, hearts changed, thoughts provoked—all through the medium of damn fine writing, directing and acting. I know we are a better city because of Pacific Theatre.”Playwright and actor Lucia Frangione observed: “Most Christian theatre is actually ‘family oriented’ theatre. There’s nothing particularly Christian about it, aside from the exclusion of certain material that some would find offensive—or not suitable for children, or seniors with a heart condition.”PT, she added, “is one of the rare true ‘Christian’ theatres, where issues of faith, morality, religion, Christ’s teachings—and how they relate to the modern world—are honestly examined. The material they explore often is too bold for ‘family oriented’ theatre, and too controversial for secular theatre.”For many theatre troupes, she contended, “religion is a ‘red flag’ which they try very hard to avoid in their programming, out of fear they will alienate certain audience members. Thank goodness Pacific Theatre has the courage for red flags.”

If you want to understand how to be a true Christian and a true artist, Ron Reed is one of those (along with our own Dr. Patrick Kavanaugh and his Christian Performing Artists’ Fellowship, among others) who points the way; and whether that’s you or not, if you ever happen to be in Vancouver and up for a performance, go check out the Pacific Theatre. You won’t be disappointed.HT: Jeffrey Overstreet via Stephen Ley

Not a holiday for introverts

Halloween isn’t, that is. For all that, I’m pretty sure I enjoyed it as a kid, if only for the candy; but when the candy lost its charm (I have a sweet tooth, but for pastries), so did the holiday, for it’s a rather exhausting process. In recent years, I’ve discovered that it’s all the more so for parents. This year was easier; living someplace where we actually get trick-or-treaters, and with our daughters going around together with their friend from the neighborhood and her mother as well as their own, I got to sit on the front porch, read Dorothy Sayers, and hand out candy.Now, to a lot of folks, the idea that that might be preferable to going around extorting candy from neighbors probably sounds strange; those folks are, with (possibly) a few exceptions, extroverts. To extroverts, who are the loud majority of the human race, they are normal, and those of us who are introverts are “moody loners” who should be treated with some care because “some of them are serial killers.” My thanks for that phrasing goes to New Reflections Counseling, Inc., of western Ohio, for their “Introvert’s Lexicon,” which they describe as “a humorous look at the world from an Introvert’s point of view”; if you’re an extrovert and there’s an introvert in your life, I suggest you read it (and the material which follows it on that page), as it could be helpful to you. (If you want further information, you might also check out Jonathan Rauch’s 2003 piece in The Atlantic titled “Caring for Your Introvert,” as well as the sidebar materials.)HT: cranekid

On reasons for an Obama victory

I’ve said before that I expect Barack Obama to win next week, and that I expect his presidency to be bad for America. I’m afraid we’ll see a major national-security crisis to which he’ll respond ineffectively (especially since Joe Biden essentially predicted as much), a resurgence of the abortion holocaust (and especially among blacks) under one of the most pro-abortion politicians in the country, the return of stagflation with the revival of the redistributionist economic policies that produced it, a Carteresque ineffectiveness in the face of challenges, a crackdown on free speech to stifle criticism of his administration, and the domination of our government by the hard-left wing of the Democratic Party.That said, I think Obama’s going to win, and for all that I don’t think he’ll be a good president, I think it’s important for this country that he win. For one, I do not assume that America deserves to be blessed simply because we’re America; if I’m right that there are hard times ahead, I can’t deny the possibility that we as a nation have them coming to us. As nations go, this is a great one and a good one, but we are far from perfect—and those Christians who object to my saying this because they believe America has a special place in God’s plan should remember that “judgment begins in the house of God.” For another, I believe the church in this country deserves to be judged for its political idolatry; and it seems to me that this judgment must begin with its conservative wing, who must relearn not to put our trust in princes.And perhaps most importantly, I believe that John McWhorter is right: the time is such that an Obama win may well be necessary for its effects on “race” relations in this country. For all my pessimism about an Obama presidency, part of that is that I see tough times ahead regardless, and I think it’s quite likely true that the cost of an Obama defeat would be greater than the benefit. As McWhorter argues,

For 40 years, black America has been misled by a claim that we can only be our best with the total eclipse of racist bias. Few put it in so many words, but the obsession with things like tabulating ever-finer shades of racism and calling for a “national conversation” on race in which whites would listen to blacks talk about racism are based on an assumption: that the descendants of African slaves in the United States are the only group of humans in history whose problems will vanish with a “level playing field,” something no other group has ever supposed could be a reality.The general conversation is drifting slowly away from this Utopianist canard, but nothing could help hustle it into obsolescence more than an Obama presidency, especially for the generation who grew up watching a black man and his family in the White House and had little memory of a time when it would have been considered an impossibility. At the same time, nothing could breathe new life into this gestural pessimism like an Obama loss. It would be the perfect enabler for a good ten years of aggrieved mulling over “the persistence of racism,” which, for all of its cathartic seduction, would make no one less poor, more gainfully employed, or better educated. . . .The grievous result of this fetishization of racism would be that it would put a kibosh on the upsurge in black voters’ political engagement amidst the Obamenon. Newspaper articles would quote blacks disillusioned from getting excited about any future black candidate—e.g. “I thought maybe America was finally getting past racism but it turned out not to be true.” 2009 would be a year of countless panel discussions, quickie books, and celebrated rap couplets wallowing in the notion that the white man wouldn’t let Obama into the Oval Office where he belonged, urgently reminding us that to be black is still to be a victim.

HT: Justin TaylorFor all my pessimism, I think it’s important to remember this, and not to deprecate the very real symbolic value of an Obama victory—or the very real practical benefits of that symbolic value; I also think it’s important to recognize that justice demands something of this sort in partial balance for the national sin of slavery. I could wish it were someone else, a Harold Ford or a Michael Steele, but Barack Obama is clearly the man God has chosen for this moment, for his own purposes; and it remains true that “the judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.”

Reflection on the mystery of prayer

Life is filled with mystery, and, much to our chagrin, claiming to know God does not shed any light upon certain dark recesses of our world. In fact, God often appears to cast a very long, very dark shadow, a shadow that can conceal more than we like to admit. Perhaps one of wise King Solomon’s more astute observations is found in the introduction to his own prayer recorded in 2 Chron. 6:1: “The LORD has said that he would dwell in a dark cloud.” God shows himself in darkness. He invites us to meet in a place where he cannot be seen. Divine self-revelation may obscure as much as, if not more than, it illuminates.Nothing brings a feeble human being face to face with spiritual conundrums as quickly as prayer, especially petitionary prayer. For many, balancing the prospect of a divine response to our cries for help against the disappointment of heavenly silence in the face of our suffering tips the religious scales in favor of skepticism, atheism, and renunciation. Knocking on heaven’s door, asking for an audience with the cosmic king, and then making our requests clearly known is a mysterious enough activity for those of us consigned to inhabit the physical limitations of flesh and blood. But then tracing answers through the fabric of life’s chaos, drawing even tentative lines of heavenly connection between the pleas of human uttering and the course of subsequent history—that is a prophetic role for which few of us seem to be qualified. Admittedly, there are always those eager to claim the prophetic mantle, but my experience with life suggests that the longer you live and the more you pray, the less prone you are to give quck, self-assured answers. This is not to deny the possibility of answers; it is merely to acknowledge that nothing in this life, including the realm of the spirit, is automatic, and precious little is ever self-evident. Putting a coin in slot A does not immediately guarantee a Snickers Bar from chute B, especially when the pocket accumulating my spare change belongs to God. The Creator also has his own purposes, which may include sending me something totally unexpected through chute G once I have surrendered the requisite number of quarters.Prayer comprises the interface between human frailty and divine power. Yet, connection and comprehension are two very different things. Trying to peer from our world into that other domain is a bit like opening your eyes underwater. It is possible to see, somewhat, but not easily, not far, and not without considerable distortion. Light is refracted, distances are difficult to judge, size is deceptive, sticks appear to bend at the surface, brilliant underwater colors vanish when raised to the surface. We may be able to explore both worlds, but it is painfully apparent that we are better suited for the one than the other. This should not stop us from trying to understand how the two realms relate; it ought, however, to curb our human penchant for dogmatism, replacing heavy-handed solutions with a healthy dose of humility and a very gentle touch.

—David Crump, Knocking on Heaven’s Door, 14-15

Side comment or two

The other day, I noted that Jared Wilson has begun posting his own 95 theses on the state of the American church; having covered discipleship and community in his first two postings, today he posted 19 more theses on the church—what the American church is vs. what the church ought to be. Unsurprisingly, in his distillation of the ongoing themes of his blog, he’s making a lot of important and provocative points, points which I think the church badly needs to hear and consider. I’m not going to try to offer any profound overarching comment on them, at least at this time; but there are a couple side comments which occurred to me.First, an observation on Jared’s Thesis 46: The American Church loves the spirit of the age and idolizes relevancy. This is I think a particularly important point. I’ve written about the idolatry of relevance before, at some length, with respect to worship; I think this is a classic case of unexamined assumptions corrupting and killing the best of intentions. Certainly, the church should never be irrelevant—but making relevance the goal smuggled in some ideas which completely undermined the proclamation of the gospel, and turned our worship to idolatry.Second, and much more minor, off his Theses 40-41: Jesus said the gates of hell will not prevail against the Church. Much of what passes for church in America will be prevailed against by hell. One of the things which interests me about the way the church deals with that statement by Jesus is that it’s so often read defensively, as if Jesus is saying, “Hell’s going to attack the church, but stand strong, it won’t defeat you.” This, it seems to me, betrays a very limited and modest understanding of the role and responsibility and power of the church, and a very limited vision of who we’re called to be and what we’re called to do; that in turn, I believe, makes us think that it’s well enough to content ourselves with self-help feel-good stuff. The question people never seem to ask is, when was the last time you saw gates chasing someone down the street? Last time I checked, gates don’t move. Jesus’ image there in Matthew is offensive, it’s about taking the battle to the enemy. To be sure, that too can be overdone and misused, but it’s still an important truth: we are not here merely to endure until we get to go to heaven, and thus it isn’t anywhere near enough to give the church teaching and programs which will make our endurance more enjoyable, comfortable and fulfilling. Rather, we have been given a mission to go into the strongholds of the enemy and rescue his prisoners, in the confidence that the gates of Hell will not prevail against us—which is not a promise that every battle will always go just as we wish, but is the assurance that we will win the war, because Jesus has already won it. But of course, if we’re going to take that mission seriously, then we need preaching, teaching, and worship to match.

Liberal feminist says: “Sarah Palin’s a Brainiac”

One of the frustrations of this campaign season has been watching so many people—even conservatives, and even smart conservatives (like Peggy Noonan, or Bird over at The Thinklings)—buy the dismissive leftist line, backed by predatory editing to distort her MSM interviews, that Sarah Palin is intellectually and otherwise unqualified to be VP. On that, listen to Elaine Lafferty, the former editor-in-chief of Ms. magazine:

It’s difficult not to froth when one reads, as I did again and again this week, doubts about Sarah Palin’s “intelligence,” coming especially from women such as PBS’s Bonnie Erbe, who, as near as I recall, has not herself heretofore been burdened with the Susan Sontag of Journalism moniker. As Fred Barnes—God help me, I’m agreeing with Fred Barnes—suggests in the Weekly Standard, these high toned and authoritative dismissals come from people who have never met or spoken with Sarah Palin. Those who know her, love her or hate her, offer no such criticism. They know what I know, and I learned it from spending just a little time traveling on the cramped campaign plane this week: Sarah Palin is very smart. . . .Now by “smart,” I don’t refer to a person who is wily or calculating or nimble in the way of certain talented athletes who we admire but suspect don’t really have serious brains in their skulls. I mean, instead, a mind that is thoughtful, curious, with a discernable pattern of associative thinking and insight. Palin asks questions, and probes linkages and logic that bring to mind a quirky law professor I once had. Palin is more than a “quick study”; I’d heard rumors around the campaign of her photographic memory and, frankly, I watched it in action. She sees. She processes. She questions, and only then, she acts. What is often called her “confidence” is actually a rarity in national politics: I saw a woman who knows exactly who she is.For all those old enough to remember Senator Sam Ervin, the brilliant strict constitutional constructionist and chairman of the Senate Watergate Committee whose patois included “I’m just a country lawyer” . . . Yup, Palin is that smart.

It’s not a long piece, and it’s well worth your time to read the whole thing.HT: Beldar

Tolkien, story, and the incarnation of virtue

Doug Hagler is, as he says, in the process of spinning down his blog Prog(ressive)nostications, which is too bad; but he’s still posting some good stuff. In particular, I appreciate his recent post of a paper on “Tolkien and Virtue Ethics,” which is well worth reading if you’re interested in either Tolkien or ethics, or the meaning of virtue, or in the power of story to communicate truth, or any combination thereof. It’s an academic paper, and thus a bit more formal, but don’t let that deter you—Doug has some important things to say. Here’s his beginning:

Aquinas, Keenan and others offer modified versions of Aristotle’s system of virtues, but they do so outside of the context of a narrative. Their virtue systems are presented and applied to various problems and subsequently analyzed, but life is not breathed into them. In order to do that, one requires a story. (MacIntyre, After Virtue, 121)One might argue that for Christians, that story is salvation history as expressed in scripture, but this is not quite the narrative that a virtue ethic requires. A virtue ethic requires a story of ennoblement, wherein the virtues espoused are demonstrated to function. Scripture, on the other hand, is a wildly various collection of ancient genres of writing, usually seen as whole but not composed as a whole. Aristotle’s culture, in contrast, was steeped in these heroic and epic stories (Ibid, 122-125) constituting a rich storytelling tradition, the surviving fragments of which we still treasure thousands of years later.It is my contention that, despite the great interruption in the development of virtue ethics, which MacIntyre identifies as the entire experiment of modernity, this storytelling tradition continues to this day. The difference is that we do not identify it as such, and it is not widely used as a source for virtue ethics. But we are still steeped in our own stories of ennoblement, and these can be a source for our ethical reflection in the context of virtue ethics.The example I will focus on is the corpus of J.R.R. Tolkien, with specific focus on The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, with reference to this other works, books, essays and letters. Tolkien is a potentially superb example of modern stories as living virtue ethics because he is in an interesting position. On the one hand, he is steeped in the heroic storytelling of northern Europe—the languages, traditions, cultures and so on, from Beowulf to the Elder Edda to the Kalevala. He also set out, particularly in The Silmarillion and The Lord of the Rings, to create stories which reflected his own Catholicism (Carpenter, The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, 172), including the tradition of Catholic moral theology in the tradition of Aquinas. Finally, his stories are avidly devoured by millions of fans worldwide, and have been adapted many times into various media since their publication. (Endnote 1) It seems that there is a clear potential here for one to find living, breathing virtues expressly located in modern storytelling.

Indeed. Check it out.