Child #2 and a Tangent on Catholicism (While We're on the Subject)

I recently became a father. . . again. People don’t get as excited for you the second time around, but if anything it is just as monumental as the first. I remember laying around and staring at Owen for long periods of time after he was born, and if I try to do that with my daughter my son will throw a ball at my head and ask me to play with him. In other words, one kid is life-changing and hard, but two kids is a whole different world. And as my experience in that world is not yet two weeks old I will decline from making any observations that might get me in trouble.

Instead, here is a quote from Walker Percy’s unspeakably excellent Lost in the Cosmos, which I read to my wife out loud in the hospital. After the baby was born, of course.

“It is a nice ambiguity that Catholics have the least use for the very thing, if not the only thing, for which they are admired, the artifacts, the accidentals of Catholicism, e.g., the buildings, folkways, music, and so on. Thus, a trivial by-product of New Orleans Catholicism, Mardi Gras, has been seized by tourists, appropriated by local Protestants, promoted by the Chamber of Commerce, as the major cultural attraction. Nice ambiguity, I say, because each party is content to have it so. Nobody is offended.

The Catholic is content to practice his faith in a dumpy church in York, while the tourists gape at the nacreous pile of the York minster, an artifact of a former Catholic culture, as beautiful as the shell of a chambered nautilus and as empty. It is not argumentative, I think, to note the niceness of the ambiguity because, if the Catholic is content to have it so, so is the unbeliever. Thus, the esthetic delight of, say, Hemingway in the Catholic décor of Pamplona would perhaps be matched for his contempt for actual Catholic practice in Oak Park, Illinois. It is an ambiguity because it can be given two equally plausible interpretations, Catholic and non-Catholic. The Catholic: what matters to me is faith and practice; the cathedrals and fiestas are incidental. The non-Catholic: what is attractive to me is the Catholic décor, cathedrals, and fiestas; what I want no part of is the belief and practice, which is often in bad taste, if not vulgar. Both are right. Catholic practice is often drab or outlandish, drab in Oak Park, Illinois, outlandish in Chichicastanango. And yet the beautiful York minster is empty. It is a nice ambiguity because each party is content that the other have it his own way.”

I understand exactly what Percy is talking about here. A number of years ago I flirted pretty heavily with Catholicism. Nothing too serious, some stolen glances, a few nervous flutters in my stomach. But Percy nailed me to the wall here. I was not seeking Catholic doctrine but Catholic aesthetics and a tradition with a rich intellectual heritage. But if you’re truly a dyed-in-the-wool Catholic you can never fudge doctrine to enjoy the pretty buildings. And eventually I realized just that: to get access to the aesthetic you need the faith otherwise you are in awe of an empty shell. And I did not and do not have faith in many doctrines of the Roman Catholic Church. 

The Purpose of Apologetics

Nathan Schneider, writing in the Chronicle of Higher Education, recently profiled the Christian philosopher/apologist William Lane Craig. I have never read Craig’s work, but the article seemed to present him fairly evenhandedly, considering the author’s clear lack of agreement with Craig on many issues. The broader thrust of the article is to give witness to the renewed Christian emphasis on philosophy as a discipline, of which Craig represents a prominent figure, and the fact that fairly orthodox Christians can now be found at posts at prestigious universities and not just the orthodox hotbeds. While it smacks of a certain “barbarians at the gate” warning to the Chronicle’s more liberal-minded audience, overall it represents the movement in conservative Christianity with some nuance.

But the question that I kept puzzling through as I read the article, and something I have thought about for some time in reading apologetic works, is pretty elemental to the whole endeavor: who is apologetics for? The article, I think, rightly points to the ways in which the more prominent Christian apologists seem to believe that their work will do more to encourage the flock than to save the lost. In other words, apologetics does not stand at the vanguard of Christianity’s efforts to convert the world, but as a rearguard action designed to keep the kids from leaving. Craig debates Sam Harris or Christopher Hitchens not in order to convert them or the Freethinker members in attendance, but to encourage the Navigators in the audience that the Christian religion is not without reason.

This is not to demean apologetics in the least. It is vital to give children raised in the church some sense of the intellectual viability and robustness of the tradition in which they have been raised. To encourage them to not be afraid of science or history or theology. Amen for that. In the final lecture I gave to my classes at Kansas State I encouraged the Christians that I had taught, specifically, to really dive into intellectual exploration while at the university and seek out the Christian thinkers who have come before them when they feel challenged, and to not be afraid of a university system which can very often appear to be at odds with their faith. I pray that my encouragement struck a nerve for some of them.

Why I highlight this question of the audience for apologetics is because I used to believe that the skillful use of apologetics was the most effective form of evangelism, that one could quite literally argue a lost soul into the kingdom (and many lost souls unfortunately had to endure these efforts of mine). Now I find this to be ridiculous. It’s appeal to argumentative and academically-minded people like me is unassailable but it does not match the actual lived experience of many.

Most people, even very smart people, who come to faith in Christ do so not because they became convinced of the integrity of the New Testament canon and have studied the historical evidence for the resurrection, but because someone really loved them who was a Christian and the irresistible grace of God stirred them to declare that Christ was the risen Lord. Which is simply to say that our conversion is not a matter primarily of the mind, but one of the heart. Christianity is not about assenting to a list of propositions in the style of Aquinas’ Summa Theologia, but having an encounter with the crucified and resurrected Christ. Reading books about the canon and the resurrection and even Aquinas is great practice once you make the step of faith, but the movement usually goes in that direction.

So I applaud the work of men like Craig and eagerly read books that give testimony to the veracity of the Christian faith, but I try to remember always that it is God that saves, God that makes the heart new, replacing the heart of stone with a heart of flesh. It is not our arguments, our facility at debate, or the prestige of our degrees.    

Liberal Satanists and Right-Wing Women Haters

Have you seen this charming video taken outside a counter-demonstration by pro-life supporters in the wake of the anti-abortion bill being filibustered by that wonderfully heroic pink shoe wearing Congresswoman? It quite clearly records members of the pro-choice side chanting "Hail Satan" in response to those right wing nut jobs singing "Amazing Grace." How dare they sing such a judgment laden song! 

Now, I will be charitable and allow that the erstwhile Satanists probably were not literally asking people to praise the name of Lucifer and holding him up as an object for worship, but were instead being douchey protesters who thought it would be totes funny to rile up those conservative, war-on-women opium snuffers by jokingly worshiping the Prince of Darkness. Ha, got you! This tactic also had the salutary effect of making the pro-choicers seem like the mature and learned party to this debate as well. Witness the heroic girl at the end of the video, absolutely exuding maturity and moral nuance. Combined with this not at all inappropriate sign being held by a seven year old girl at the same event inferring something about copulating with a Senator and this was not a bright and shining moment for the Defenders of Women Everywhere (or at least half of women some places).

Cue the left wing spin, please, Atlantic Monthly. You see, writes Elspeth Reeve, we can't even be sure what the protesters were actually shouting. It may sound like Satan, but it could really be anything. Like all of those other words that sound like Satan. CNN's Mark Rubin who was there and can confirm that it was in fact Lucifer, Son of Morning, who was being hailed at the rally, reassured people that it was only about five people actually shouting this imprecation so there is no sense blowing what a small group of nutjobs like to shout as part of a protest out of proportion. Rubin went on to announce that not all supporters of Christianity or traditional marriage will be compared to Westboro Baptist Church members in the future so as to keep things fair. 

Then when Reeve goes on to address the sexual sign being held by a seven year old girl she states that it was either faked or not from the event even though the woman next to the girl is wearing a shirt that was made especially by the pro-choice crowd for this demonstration. She concludes, having thoroughly eviscerated this meme, "The anti-abortion crowd will have to stick with its five satanists." Ha! Is that all you got anti-abortionists? Five piddly Satanists. But wait, we find out in an update that the picture really is real. Some mom did let her daughter wear that, as well as her other daughters wear signs that say "Every Child a Wanted Child." "Oh, honey, of course I love you. After all, I did want you enough to let you be born!" This draws the furious ire of Reeve who writes "gross." Boom! She knows how to throw down the gauntlet both ways!

I guess my point in this post, other than this really rankled me, is to show two things: one, when left wing crazies do something it doesn't reflect back on the movement as a whole, whereas right wing folks do not have this option. Every conservative had to answer for Todd Akin in the last election. Two, liberals are just as into indoctrinating kids as they accuse conservatives of being. For a thought experiment, consider what Ms. Reeve's reaction might be in the pages of the Atlantic if a pro-life supporter had their daughter holding a sign that read "Jesus wants me to be a mommy who stays at home and supports my husband."  Something tells me a) she would not questions its veracity and need to retract her statement of doubt, and b) she might have a stronger dismissal than the one word "gross." Personally, I would rather my kid be "indoctrinated" with Bible verses about grace than a doctrine that says some kids are not wanted and sexualizes their prepubescent bodies, but, hey, that's just me.

Commonplacing: N.T. Wright on the Parables

I am reading N.T. Wright’s book on Jesus right now and am really enjoying it. I have written about Wright’s work a couple of times in the recent past. While an orthodox believer, Wright takes a more historical approach to the life of Jesus before treating the theology of his message. I have long struggled with how we Christians are to view the life and work of Jesus: he gave some hard teaching and a) is it our job to follow it, or b) did he give it merely to show us how in need of grace we are? I have heard this question answered both ways and usually with some sort of vague harmony of the two. I am reading this book in the hopes of coming to a more settled answer to that question. Before I try to engage with any thoughts of my own, such as they are, I thought it would be good to pass along an excerpt from the book on the parables that I found to be quite beautiful, especially considering the academic nature of the work:

“It should therefore be clear that the parables, by their very form, place Jesus firmly within his Jewish context. The genre itself puts into effect that double-edged message of welcome and warning which is the parables’ regular theme. The parables are not simply information about the kingdom, but are part of the means of bringing it to birth. They are not a second order activity, talking about what is happening at one remove. They are part of the primary activity itself. They do not merely give people something to think about. They invite people into the new world that is being created, and warn of dire consequences if the invitation is refused. Jesus’ telling of these stories is one of the key ways in which the kingdom breaks in upon Israel, redefining itself as it does so. They also function, for the same reason, as explanation and defence of what Jesus is doing. As Meyer argues, the parables are not merely theme, they are also performance. They do not merely talk about the divine offer of mercy; they both make the offer, and defend Jesus’ right to make it.” (176)

I think this is exactly right and calls into question my habits of reading the gospels as mere preparation for the bigger thing—the atoning work of Christ on the cross. Wright is encouraging the reader to think of the life and work of Jesus as both the fulfillment of Israel’s story and the inauguration of the kingdom. Too often when we go straight to the cross we deny that Jesus’ earthly ministry had any purpose whatsoever and Jesus becomes a Jew in name only. It would have been all the same, really, if he had just been a divine carpenter crucified for our sins without having bothered with three years of itinerancy. To do my Savior justice, and to know him as He is, I need to be disabused of that notion.