Posts Tagged “Calvinism”
Kenneth Hynek • 26th Jan 2010 • Religion, Catholicism, Religion, Christianity • atheism, Calvinism, Catholicism, evangelism, Holy Trinity, Protestantism, sola scriptura, the Church, twitter
From Dave Armstrong’s list:
Protestantism has no way of settling doctrinal issues definitively. At best, the individual Protestant can only take a head count of how many Protestant scholars, commentators, etc. take such-and-such a view on Doctrine X, Y, or Z. There is no unified Protestant Tradition.
I’ve taken more than a bit of flack from a couple of atheists on twitter recently over precisely this issue: that Christians — or, at least, Christians that these atheists have evidently observed and interacted with — can’t agree on various doctrinal issues…even basic ones like the Holy Trinity, unfortunately!
(When you dismiss the Trinity as a mere “teaching of man,” you really have wandered too far into the wilderness of sola scriptura.)
Which, I suppose, goes to show that these atheists have principally debated Protestants, rather than Catholics.
But anyhow…the ability to resolve doctrinal disputes in a way that is both centralized and binding is one of the hidden strengths of the Church, and is a powerful tool for evangelism and witness.
(I’ve been in debates where two or three Catholics have been able to mop up handily, against atheists and evangelicals alike*, simply because we were uniform in our arguments, despite having never met before.)
If you’re an atheist, you jump from evangelical to evangelical, asking for a theological opinion about a certain issue, and you can make quite the game (and no end of fun) of the myriad responses you receive. You can’t play that game with Catholics, typically.
And as an added bonus, Catholics — for the same reason as the above — don’t usually care if atheists try play that game with both Catholics and Protestants, nor are we likely to find it particularly convincing.
Because at that point, the atheists would basically be arguing against the validity of all fruit based on the difference(s) between apples and kumquats.
* * *
* of course, as someone once observed, what is an atheist except a fundamentalist Calvinist who has rejected all the usual Catholic trappings…and the remaining three as well (by which I mean: the Trinity)?
Kenneth Hynek • 24th Aug 2009 • Religion, Catholicism, Religion, Christianity, History, Religion, Protestantism, Religion, Theology • atheism, Calvinism, Christ, DRB, exegesis, God, Jesus, John C. Wright, John Calvin, limited atonement, reason, resurrection, Sex, sexual revolution, the Church, Theology, US
Near the very end of John C. Wright‘s series of articles — in the final article, in fact — was buried a comment that made me reflect on a certain tenet of Calvinism: limited atonement.
Like most Calvinist teachings, limited atonement is bollocks, though not because it is patently false. Rather, it mixes truth and falsehood in some measure. Unlike some other Calvinist tenets, it’s not the sort of thing that’s nice in theory but not workable in reality; the errors with this doctrine are purely within the realms of Theology, exegesis, and reason.
And in fact, arguing against the tenet is quite easy. Far too many Protestants — including and perhaps especially those of a Calvinist bent — like to use John 3:16 as a forum or email signature. And while there’s nothing wrong with using Scripture in this capacity, there is a problem in that they often use this particular verse in ignorance of its complete meaning. This is especially the case for those who believe that false doctrine called limited atonement.
What does John 3:16 say, then? In the DRB, it is rendered thusly:
For God so loved the world, as to give his only begotten Son: that whosoever believeth in him may not perish, but may have life everlasting.
For completeness, we should also consider the two verses that follow.
For God sent not his Son into the world, to judge the world: but that the world may be saved by him.
He that believeth in him is not judged. But he that doth not believe is already judged: because he believeth not in the name of the only begotten Son of God.
One could exegete these three verses to assault another Calvinist tenet as well, but let’s table that matter for now and focus on two key points regarding atonement that the above verses teach, concerning its scope and the means by which man can attain its saving power.
John separates these two categories remarkably well. Concerning the first — atonement’s scope — he is explicit: “For God so loved the world, as to give his only begotten Son…that the world may be saved by him.” Christ was sent into the world to save the world, not just an “elect” subset of the world. John makes no bones about this! The Gospel does not say that “God so loved his own, as to give his only begotten Son…that his regenerate may be saved by him.”
At this point, we could almost stop; noting only as much as we have already done is actually sufficient. Limited atonement — basically, that Christ’s death and resurrection only atoned for the sins of “regenerate” Christians — is obviously false, as Scripture itself indicates. Christ was sent to save all the world, and as such His death must necessarily have atoned for the sins of all the world.
So why does Calvinism teach limited atonement?
There was a recent incident in the US in which a deranged man shot up an exercise class at a gymnasium, before turning the gun on himself. On his blog, discovered some hours later, he detailed his reasons for killing…but also talked at length about his former pastor’s somewhat liberal stance on what Christ’s atonement meant. In his (errant) view, Jesus had already atoned for the sins he was about to commit, so he had to fear no eternal condemnation for either his pending murders or his present-day atheism.
Presumably, he received a rather rude awakening when he pulled the trigger for the final time.
Now, why do I mention this?
It is not, by any means, a new heresy, this teaching that since Christ atoned for the sins of all, all are saved regardless of their deeds or beliefs. Off the top of my head, I can’t think of the name of the relevant historical heresy that taught this…but I am fairly certain that such a heresy was seen in the earlier days of the Church.
I half-suspect that in inventing the doctrine of limited atonement, Calvin was attempting to argue against this heresy; that he was doing so in a way itself heretical is rather ironic. Oh, to be fair, the doctrine also proceeds, logically, from other Calvinist tenets — if one is going to believe that some people are born already, and then inexorably, damned, it’s not exactly a leap of great distance to likewise believe that Jesus did not die to atone for the sins of all mankind. It may be patent stupidity to believe as much, but it’s not illogical.
The problem, however, is that such a view isn’t really defensible from Scripture.
Oh, one could attempt to sneak the limitation in by the back door and argue that BELIEF (or disbelief) is predestined. This addresses the other category John talks about — how mankind accesses the salvation that flows out of Christ’s atonement for our sins. About this point, John is fairly specific: “…whosoever believeth in him may not perish, but may have life everlasting…he that doth not believe is already judged: because he believeth not in the name of the only begotten Son of God.” John does leave it to later authors — Paul and James, especially — to expand upon what it means to believe in Christ, and Jesus himself gives plenty examples of what the full implications, obligations, and responsibilities of being a believer are.
And to be fair, one could get into a lengthy discussion about whether individual men and women are, in fact, predestined to believe, or predestined to eschew belief, in Christ.
But equally, so what? The issue is atonement, which we’ve already established cannot be limited, else Scripture be found to teach falsely. Even if some are predestined to never come to the faith necessary for access to the salvation that flows from that atonement (and I’m granting a very big “if” there*), this does not in any way mean that atonement itself is limited.
Now, I mentioned John C. Wright, and the good reader could be forgiven for wondering at this point just where he fits into the picture. As I noted previously, he said something that got this train of thought moving for me. Here, then, is his observation:
Christ bled and died for my enemies, the Leftists and the sexual revolutionaries, as well as for those tempted by sexual sins and lures. Not only must I pray for my enemies, I must do so even though that act or prayer holds me up to their derision. Since Christ died for them, I cannot hold these people up to the scorn they deserve, or mock their weaknesses, since those things are of secondary or even of no importance in the grand scheme of things.
What this statement got me thinking about was the implications of, especially, the first sentence if it were somehow proven that limited atonement was a valid and true doctrine. Do you see how the calculus would change, good reader? For, if Christ did NOT die for the sins of our enemies, if He did not bleed for them, then we need not pray for them…indeed, since they are inexorably damned, it would be a waste of breath and effort to do so! And since Christ did not die for “them,” there is no reason to spare them scorn, mockery, or derision for their weaknesses and sins.
One could even go so far as to argue that one’s enemies cannot be called “children of God,” and so need not even be thought of as brothers and sisters…which, in turn, means that one is free to pour out even hatred upon them, without fear of bring condemned as a murderer.
You laugh, good reader, but I’m not inventing anything here; I have heard such arguments before.
And indeed, we can see exactly such sentiments expressed in the writings and deeds of John Calvin, who once wrote that he would sooner murder — or see murdered — a good friend rather than see the man revert to being a ‘papist,’ and whose persecutions of Catholics were substantially more vicious and cruel than the persecutions Catholics are accused (rightly or wrongly) of carrying out against early Protestants.
Whatever spirit the man felt himself being led by, it was not the spirit of Jesus. And in like manner, whatever spirit gave rise to this doctrine of limited atonement was not the spirit of Christ.
One can only pray, then, that this alien spirit did not lead Calvin’s soul to ruin, just as one must pray that following his poisonous teachings will not lead millions more souls to ruin.
What else can one do? Christ died even for Calvin, and for those who continue to preach his bilgewater doctrines.
* * *
* I cannot state in strong enough terms how odious a doctrine Calvinist predestination is. If we were to abstract life as a swimming pool, in which those who come to know salvation are those able to tread water for a set time, Calvinist predestination would be the teaching that Jesus deliberately holds some people’s heads under the water and drowns them…”for the glory of God.”
It’s an ugly teaching, and a temptation I struggle to resist (and then more often than I care to admit) is the temptation to hope that it is a damnable teaching.
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Kenneth Hynek • 23rd Aug 2009 • Religion, Catholicism, Religion, Christianity, Society, Men and Women, Photography, Stray Thoughts, Work • Apostle's Creed, Archie Neil Park, Calvinism, Carey Landry, CCCB, Christ, Ella, faith, feminism, Flickr, Ford Edge, Fossil Butte Motel, Grace, Grub's Drive-in, I-80, iPod, iPod Touch, Jesus, Jim Bridger Power Plant, Kemmerer, La Quinta, Lightroom, Mass, Nicene Creed, panoramic, Photoshop, pizza, Rock Springs, Skype, Sonic, the Church, US, USCCB, Western Wyoming Community College, Windows Live Messenger, Wyoming
6:30
I probably could have tried to sleep in, but it wouldn’t have mattered; the people checking out somewhere down the hallway had a yappy mutt of a dog that probably ensured that nobody in this wing of the hotel was able to sleep past…well…the time indicated above.
But at least they’re gone, and their little dog too.
As there was no falling back asleep, I got up and checked my email. The shower this morning was unusually refreshing…and the nice thing is that the La Quinta, unlike the Fossil Butte Motel, has sufficient reserves of hot water. Not that a blast of ice cold water in the morning isn’t an effective means of being jolted awake…it’s just not the preferable means for it.
7:30
Went to the hotel lobby for breakfast. The warming bins for the eggs and sausage evidently have limits, and the slightly cool eggs presented a strong argument for catching breakfast as early as possible. Fortunately, as it’s Sunday, this won’t be an issue going forward; I have to leave by no later than 6:15 every morning in order to make it to the Jim Bridger Power Plant for 7:00.
Well, that’s not strictly true; the drive only takes 35 minutes. But it’s nice to have a few minutes worth of “buffer time” just in case there’s something — say…I don’t know…road construction? — slowing down traffic on I-80.
8:30
After changing into somewhat nicer clothes, I headed out to attend Mass at Sts. Cyril and Methodius Catholic Church, which is located on pretty much the opposite side of Rock Springs from the hotel. It’s a bit cloudy, but I’m hoping the weather will hold out; I intend to walk to church.
10:00
Okay, so I arrived at the church about an hour early. And since it appears that the other Catholic parish is being renovated at present, I arrived to find a Mass already underway, evidently the transferred 9:30 AM Mass from the Our Lady of Sorrows parish in downtown Rock Springs.
Not that I mind waiting; there’s an article on Calvinism I’ve been slowly tapping into the iPod Touch for a few days now, and I certainly don’t mind having the better part of an hour to work on it.
11:00
Right on time, Mass started. The church is pretty full, which is nice to see.
12:10
Mass was good, for the most part. The priest had a delightful Jamaican accent, which lightened the atmosphere somewhat. The music ministry was…well, the priest had a delightful accent, which lightened the atmosphere somewhat.
And I have to say this much: I do enjoy attending Mass in the US for one reason in particular: they use the Nicene Creed in the service. It’s a small difference (Canadians tend to use the Apostle’s Creed), but I find I can’t help but appreciate it all the same. I love the Nicene Creed; it’s what I was raised on, and I love its very structured approach to presenting the truth of the faith through and in conjunction with the truth of the Trinity.
So Mass was mostly good. There was, however, one immensely frustrating thing that I want to rant about for a bit, and that was the second reading. Because today was the reading from Ephesians 5…you know, good reader, the one that talks about how husbands should love their wives, and says nothing whatsoever about how the wife should approach or treat her husband.
Or, at least, you’d think that’s what the Epistle said, because here’s what was read:
Be subject to one another out of reverence for Christ.
Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish. Even so husbands should love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. For no man ever hates his own flesh, but nourishes and cherishes it, as Christ does the church, because we are members of his body.
“For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.”
This mystery is a profound one, and I am saying that it refers to Christ and the Church.
There’s something missing, isn’t there? What happened to verses 22, 23, and 24? You know, good reader…the ones that read:
Wives, be subject to your husbands, as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, and is himself its Savior. As the church is subject to Christ, so let wives also be subject in everything to their husbands.
It annoys me to no end both that the CCCB and USCCB have made these three verses “optional” when the second reading for the day is from the last half of Ephesians 5, and that individual parishes actually exercise that optionality. This has less to do with the fact that I’m a mouth-breathing misogynistic troglodyte barely able to dress himself in anything more sophisticated than a loincloth, and has quite a bit more to do with what Paul himself says in verse 32.
Here’s the verse again, good reader, in case you missed it:
This mystery is a profound one, and I am saying that it refers to Christ and the church.
What Paul is saying, of course, is that all of what he has just said — the whole bit about husbands and wives — should be understood as a teaching about the relationship of Christ and the Church. That is to say, he is using the imagery of the relationship of husband and wife as a metaphor for the way Christ should relate to the Church, and as a metaphor for how the Church should relate to Christ.
And yes, he’s also giving a bit of social teaching as he goes, for which he has been lambasted as a sexist pig in recent decades. Interestingly, his concluding line (verse 33)…
However, let each one of you love his wife as himself, and let the wife see that she respects her husband.
…and puts the greater obligation on the husband. But that’s a separate matter. I was talking about why it infuriates me that the passages about the obligations of wives get dropped from the reading.
Here’s why: when we drop those passages, we drop ourselves from the reading.
Follow Paul’s reasoning for a second. He speaks at length of the obligation and role of the husband to love his wife and sacrifice himself for her wellbeing and salvation, because within the structure of the metaphor, the husband represents Jesus (who, it may shock some to learn, does love us and did sacrifice himself for our salvation). The image of the husband in Ephesians 5 is the image of Christ.
Which makes the image of the wife the image of the Church.
Let’s be plain about that: the wife represents us, good reader…the people sitting in the pews listening to the reading and wondering where the heck those three verses we know should be there have gone. So in refraining from mentioning the wives, what we are ultimately doing is abstaining from mentioning our own responsibilities to Christ, as Christians! Because we are supposed to submit ourselves to Christ, to respect and obey Him. It’s what being a Christian means, what it entails.
I get that our modern sentiments don’t like to read those verses; one notes that even in parishes where they are read, the reader will often attempt to rush past them. They say things that our feminism-addled brains think of as being distasteful. The wife be subservient to the husband? Never! RAAR! (One notes that we have also dropped “obey” from the wedding vows most couples profess at the altar, for similar reasons.)
But ultimately, those verses aren’t really about wives; they’re about us, the pew-sitters, the church-goers. And in skipping past them, what are we saying? Ultimately, we’re neglecting to mention — and so remind ourselves of — our role as faithful Christians, and our obligations and duties to the Lord. But who wants to remember those anyway? Hey, let’s all sing a warbly Carey Landry tune about rainbows!
Ahem.
Like I said, I get a little annoyed. But outside of the above, Mass was really good.
1:30
Grace and Ella called me via Skype; it’s always great to hear from my girls! Although it sounds like Ella is getting rather frustrated at the fact that she can see and hear me, but can’t touch me.
Just a few more days, and I can hold my wife and pick up my baby girl.
2:15
Spent about half an hour looking up car seats; Ella is on the brink of outgrowing hers. There’s a lot of different models out there; the trick, I suppose, is to pick one that doesn’t seem to have a history of recalls behind it.
2:45
And now I’m working on photos again, as well as this blog post. The nice thing about taking a day in is that I can actually live-blog this journal (well…past this point). Usually, I just tap the day’s events into the iPod and publish the article before I go to bed.
5:00
Flickr really needs to come up with some means of allowing batch deletion of tags from items. There is a workaround in place that did address my needs, but even so: when you tag, in batch, 363 photos with the wrong damn tag, it really would be the cat’s meow to have a means of untagging all 363 photos in batch as well.
Just saying.
5:45
Leftover pizza for dinner. I seem to have resolved the tagging issue, which is nice, although there’s still the matter of now properly tagging several hundred photos that at present are just…sitting there.
I’ve almost got all my photos geo-tagged in Flickr, which is kind of a first.
Speaking of photos, I seem to recall promising that I owe the reader a few of those. So, let’s see…well, let’s start with some Rock Springs panoramics, what say?
This is a west-facing panorama from atop the rocky hill that the town is basically built around. The hospital, and Western Wyoming Community College, are atop said hill, but I don’t think I was ever at an angle from which I could capture images thereof. What you can see in this shot is the mountain range situated west of the town, with its eerily flat top:
Here, on the other hand, is a shot of the downtown area of Rock Springs — which is accessed by means of the curved, raised bridge visible in the middle-left area of the picture. This too was taken from atop the rocky hill in the middle of town:
Speaking of the rocky hill proper, there are actually a few communities situated atop it, as can be seen in this image:
And in this shot, you can see the southern part of the town:
Now, the astute reader may have guessed that the last two panoramas, above, are 360-degree images. With panoramas that capture a full circular view, there exists the possibility of creating what some call “miniature planets” (though the correct name would probably be “polar projections,” after the Photoshop filter one uses to craft them).
So, for example, here’s the panorama of the communities atop the rocky hill, rendered as a polar projection:
And here is the south-facing panorama:
And just for fun, here’s the panorama from yesterday, of Archie Neil Park in Kemmerer, Wyoming:
I’ll post some more pictures in a bit, but these should be enough for now, eh, good reader?
6:10
Grace and Ella called me via Skype again. Grace managed to get the video working at their end again, and it was nice to see both her and Ella. But in the end, we opted to save bandwitdh and just let Ella see me; she gets so excited.
6:50
I’m a bit frustrated with Flickr’s tagging system at the moment, so I think it’s a good time to switch gears. I’ve got a few photos to edit still in Lightroom, and I think now is as good a time as any to work on them.
Here’s another picture from Rock Springs, in the meantime. This is Sts. Cyril and Methodius Catholic Church, where I attended Mass this morning:
And here’s the church from the side:
Also, here’s a shot of Grub’s Drive-in, the local “famous” eatery. I realize it doesn’t look like much…
…but the burgers are pretty tasty. I’m thinking this will be where I go for dinner tomorrow, though I’m not 100% sure about that.
8:00
Grace and I just finished another Skype call. Just hearing her voice is almost enough, but in the end I’m still a thousand miles away (literally), and I really do miss her so dearly. But any taste of home is wonderful.
8:30
Okay, time for more pictures. First up, the La Quinta:
And here’s a shot of the Ford Edge parked outside the window to my hotel room. This is toward the back of the hotel, and on the opposite side visible in the first photo:
Now, what else can I show you, good reader, concerning Rock Springs? Well, for starters, how about a closer look at the bridge into the downtown area?
It is actually a pretty neat structure, and rather fun to drive over.
This next shot isn’t of anything in particular, except a rock, but it does communicate that the rocky hill in the middle of town is actually fairly expansive: one loses sight of all the town’s buildings at various points whilst climbing over it:
Oh, and here’s one last shot for the day. This was the sign that the Sonic was displaying. As I captioned the photo at Flickr: “May I Live to Be 100 and Never See a Pun This Awful Again.”
Not that I expect to be able to pull either of those things off. But there’s always hope!
9:15
Grace and I chatted briefly over Windows Live Messenger to wish each other a good night. It’s getting almost indescribable, just how much I miss her.
10:30
And just like that, it’s time for bed. It’s a workday tomorrow, after all.
Kenneth Hynek • 27th Jul 2009 • Religion, Catholicism, Religion, Christianity, Religion, Protestantism, Site News, Religion, Theology • Calvinism, Mormonism
Not to mention an update to the Pics of the Day, when I get a moment.
Kenneth Hynek • 14th Jul 2009 • Religion, Catholicism, Religion, Christianity, Religion, Protestantism, Religion, Theology • Calvinism, Christ, damnation, emotion, evangelism, faith, Gamespot, God, Jesus, logic, Manichaeaism, Mark Shea, reason, soteriology, the Gospels
Mark Shea nails the first one, which I can likewise relate to:
Normal people do not pit God against his good creatures this way. But Calvinism (which Trent analyzed as a resurgent form of Manichaeaism) routinely does, at least in its anti-Catholic polemics. Of course, five centuries has done something to wear the edge of Calvinism into more demented hatred of creatures. Even the guy who wrote this would probably not slap his child if he sought comfort in the arms of his mother after a scraped knee or (like Calvin) have somebody flogged for praying at the grave of a loved one. Calvinists, after long exposure to normal human emotion, have backed down on the creatures are absolutely worthless in providing help and comfort. They have figured out, at least on a day to day basis, that humans rightly seek help and comfort from creatures all the time. That’s why there aren’t any Calvinist Child Rearing Books urging parents to punish their children as godless infidels when they call for their mothers after a nightmare, or Calvinist counselors slapping grieving parents around for their sinfully misplaced love of their dead child or Calvinist marriage counselors urging couples to stop finding love and consolation in the idolatrous love of their spouses.
Instead, the Calvinist zealot now confines his denunciation of enjoyment, supplication, and love of creatures strictly and solely to those creatures who happen to be dead. That’s what that qualifier about the “spirit realm” is all about. My combox Calvinist knows, at some level, that it’s insane to shout “trust in God alone” to a child who wants his Mother. He senses at some level what non-insane people know: that one of the ways God mediates his love and help to us is through creatures like our mothers. So he doesn’t denounce people for honoring their mother or asking her help. But when it comes to the Mother of God, all the demented rhetoric comes out full throttle, even though it is no more crazy to ask for her help than it is to ask for the help of our earthly mother.
The other thing is something I’ve noticed. Calvinists have this thing about “planting seeds” (not that way, sicko), and I notice the phrase is used in many of the debates that take place in the Gamespot Off-Topic Forum (and in the post-debate analysis conducted elsewhere). The dive-bombing evangelists come in, stir up anti-Christian vitriol with their whimsical, half-baked theological ramblings, and then — when logic, reason, and somewhat-more-sane Christians have dismantled their arguments and backed them into a corner — leave with a pithy comment about having planted seeds, and how the rest is in God’s hands.
This disgusts me.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for evangelism. I’m just not for evangelism-as-a-means-of-damning-someone, which is why Calvinists mean (I think) with all this rhetoric about seed-planting. Banner images like this are not intended to actually compel people to seek salvation in Christ; they are made to use the reality of Christian soteriology as a weapon with which to sentence people to damnation (or, at least, that is the intent with which they are used). The Calvinist believes that simply by yelling “Jesus saves you, you damned rotten sinner,” at another person is a sufficient and fully legitimate mode of preaching the message of the Gospels; if the damned rotten sinner does not immediately go out and “get saved,” he deserves what he gets.
Of course, the person is vanishingly rare who will, upon hearing the above, go out and “get saved.” The Calvinist knows this, but spews forth his bilgewater preaching anyhow. The possibility that in so doing, said Calvinist is genuinely concerned for the salvation of the other is small, so small as to be non-existent against the statistical margin for error. The Calvinist can thus only be uttering his bilgewater preaching not to bring about the salvation of the other, but to ensure the damnation of the other (who, rightly, has indeed been informed of the truth).
Now, perhaps I am a Catholic pagan idolater infidel prostitute zealot, and a “Romanist” (17th century rhetorical polemics are just de rigeur, you see…) besides…but it seems to me that preaching to someone for the express purpose of ensuring his damnation is about as far removed from what is right, moral, and Christian as can be. Or nearly so.
Planting seeds from which faith can grow doesn’t mean spewing a venomous iteration of the message and then shrugging it off when nobody listens; it means preaching a message that actually speaks to others and encourages them to further explore a fledgling, nascent faith. It means teaching something which is true, and encouraging the other to seek after more and deeper truths from that starting point. Bellowing at someone that he’s a dirty rotten sinner destined for the Pit might make for good catharsis, but it’s actually counter-productive to spreading the Good News (actually, believe it or not, it makes the Good News sound like Bad News) and, moreover, sets up the one who bellows it out as a stumbling block in the other’s walk with Christ.
Jesus had something to say about stumbling blocks. It involved millstones.
Anyhow, it’s been a crazy day, and I haven’t had time to do much in the way of blogging, or to give complete and just answers to some threads in the CU. I’ll attempt to do so tomorrow, though I of course make no promises in this regard.
Kenneth Hynek • 4th Jan 2008 • Religion, Atheism, Religion, Catholicism, Religion, Philosophy, Religion, Stray Thoughts, Secularism makes you stupid, Society • Amanda Marcotte, atheism, Calvinism, Catholicism, Chesterton, evil, fully human, His Dark Materials, Immaculate Conception, Mark Shea, Materialism, Philip Pullman, Protestantism, Puritanism, Richard Dawkins, secularism, sin, Southern Baptist, The Golden Compass
…one also detects the whiff of soured Puritanism in our wide-spread faith in the doctrine of Strength Through Evil that is part and parcel of the Culture of Fear.
Strength Through Evil? When put like that, we don’t like to think we believe in such things. But looking not at our protestations but at our art, the notion that Bad is Powerful is everywhere. The myth created by that great son of Scotch Calvinist culture, Robert Louis Stevenson, is as potent today as ever: Jekyll is a weenie. Hyde is strong. Captain Kirk “needs” his evil side in order to avoid the same fate of terminal weeniness. From The Cowboys (where a wimpy stuttering kid finds inner strength through profanity, and boys become men through the brutal killing of a bad guy) to Million Dollar Baby (where the hero finds inner strength through murder) to Titanic (where a girl trapped in a colorless life finds inner strength through fornication), our culture loves and deeply believes the story of finding Strength Through Evil.
That’s no accident; it’s part of a Calvinist and post-Calvinist anthropology. That’s why one constant refrain in anti-Catholic apologetics is that the Immaculate Conception just can’t be true because, if it were, it would mean that Mary is not “fully human.” Why? Because you need sin and evil in order to be fully human, we are told. That, in the end, is what is implied by the wholly unbiblical and philosophically preposterous phrase “sinful nature.” What Calvinism and its postmodern descendants all tend to affirm is that sin is not what corrupts human nature, but what constitutes it. That’s because we have failed, as a culture, to make the distinction between what is normal and what is natural. Sin is normal. It is never natural. Indeed, it is what destroys nature.
…
The problem with this Faustian arrangement is simply this: Evil is not constitutive of the human person; evil is not healthy and natural and realistic and, most of all, evil is not strong. Evil saps strength, darkens reason, and corrupts our very ability to grasp reality. Evil does not, in fact, keep us safe, make us happy, or help us win the war on Radical Islam. It makes us weaker, confuses us, and leaves us more vulnerable than ever to our enemies. Indeed, mortal sin is radically contrary to the good of the human person and always results in disaster when we embrace it.
It’s funny that so much of Calvinist thinking — that is, a Christian religious philosophy that emerged in opposition to medieval Catholicism — now underpins secularist/atheist/materialist reasoning in so many ways. It’s everywhere in the atheist mind. Whether it’s Philip Pullman‘s His Dark Materials trilogy (of which The Golden Compass, more properly called Northern Lights, is the first book) and its doctrine of the salvation of the universe through the sexual intimacy of its (unwed) teenaged protagonists, Amanda Marcotte‘s weird obsession with proving that virginity is just a “myth” or artificial social construct, or Richard Dawkins‘ assertions that human beings overcome their base animal nature by giving in to the temptation to commit adultery (from which he draws the subsequent conclusion that society should no more stigmatize people who take multiple sexual partners, even after they are married, than it should stigmatize those who like two or three different kinds of wine), the idea that sin can in some way “save” us (from what we are saved is never clearly established) permeates secular thinking everywhere one finds it.
It’s sad that Protestantism has become such an enabler for modern atheism, and sadder still that so much of Protestant thinking — which was erroneous even at its promulgation centuries ago — has become so prevalent in our modern world. The most telling example for me, I think, was an argument I once had with a Southern Baptist kid who was attempting to explain how engaging in a little anonymous cyber-sex did not constitute cheating on his then-girlfriend.
But as Chesterton noted, fallacies do not suddenly become truths simply because they become fads. The only question, I suppose, is how messy the societal collapse triggered our willing embrace of every sinful tendency will be. Because that is the ultimate destination of decadence and of a society which abandons notions of self-restraint in pursuit of an uninterrupted experience of “what feels good at the time.”
