Memorare

Non esse auditum a saeculo, quemquam ad tua currentem praesidia,

tua implorantem auxilia, tua petentem suffragia,

esse derelictum.

William (Bill) "Buck" Milton Brigman

Kingdom Come

My grandfather stepped into eternity at 12:15 Tuesday morning. So, eternity is where (or when) I will start. In a room full of family and friends last night, I started to have an odd realization. I looked around a room full of old friends, blood relatives and in-laws. Talking music, eating, telling stories; my uncle impersonating (very well) the classic Bill Brigman laugh. In that moment I felt more clearly than almost ever the intermingling of Heavenly and earthly reality. Pop was the epicenter of every single relationship in that room. Today's closest of friends for decades, brought together through mutual acquaintance with Bill. Husbands and wives along with their offspring and the life shared between them, given existence out of the gift of his life with my grandmother. It was honestly very hard to feel the lack of Pop's presence in that moment. Our Lord teaches us to pray, "Thy Kingdom come," because the nature of our universe is such that the co-mingling of the Kingdom and this present world are constant. We often hear the clichéd statement of a passed-on loved one being always present in spirit, but I believe that now more than ever. Eternity is all-encompassing and infinite. It envelopes and embraces our being in-time. Therefore, in a very real way, in this overlapping, we were all of us uniquely in the presence of our grandfather, our friend (and Brother), our father, our husband and lover. I do not doubt that Pop was more aware of this fact than we were. But, I couldn't help but sense that the spirit in that room, the bond of companionship and love we shared, was identical to the spirit of my grandfather who, in the story of his life, bound and wrote us all together.

Life of Questions

This week (as I have been almost every week of my college and post-college life by some person or another) I was asked by a friend of Pop's what kind of market a major in Philosophy puts me in. I tend to think the answer is the marketplace of questions. Few subjects that I know of trade in volumes of questions outnumbering that of Death. Chief export among them being: "Why?" Why was this person taken from us and why now? Today during the funeral, however, I started asking myself different questions. Why did my grandmother's father pass away when she was a child, leaving my great-grandmother to raise 4 kids on her own in a tin-roofed, hand-built house with no indoor plumbing or electricity? Why did Miss Tessie have to become such a strong matriarch? Why did my grandmother watch her and learn how to be a strong woman who loves fearlessly? Why was my grandmother a strong enough woman to reign in a wild Buck of a sailor like my grandfather? Why did my grandfather grow up with a strong mother whose husband left their family behind and learn to appreciate strong women? Why did my grandmother already have apprentice's experience to raise 4 kids on her own and hold the family together while my grandfather was away serving two tours in Vietnam? Why wasn't Pop physically able to pack his bag for one specific shore-leave and get on the helicopter that ended up crashing into the sea? Why did an officer who out-ranked him force him to give up the seat he always sat in on river patrol the very day its occupant would be hit directly by a rocket in an ambush? Why has the fabric of reality spanning generations, continents, and families been stitched together to lead us to this moment in this church, surrounded by a palpable and tangible spirit of Love lynch-pinned by the marriage of my grandparents?

Remember

The opening Latin lines of this entry are from a 15th century prayer. They read: "Never was it known that anyone who fled to Thy protection, implored Thy help or sought Thine intercession, was left unaided." Those words beautifully describe the lasting lesson I will take from my grandfather, and I think every person privileged enough to know him would say the same. My uncle spent a lot of time putting together a collage of photos and images from Pop's life. He made the comment to me that in studying my grandfather's life through these pictures you can watch him change profoundly through the years. Rather than growing sad and cynical through the years like so many, the opposite was true in him; joy took root in such a profound way that one can see a man who found happiness. Where did he find it? What about his life caused his happiness to be continually compounded? My grandfather's greatest joy and most profound happiness was found in the giving of himself to the people he loved. The more people the more family the more friends, the more he was able to give. This is the part of his legacy I hope we all can remember. Happiness is directly proportional to the giving of oneself.

One of Pop's all-time favorite songs. One of the enduring lessons he taught me is that any 60s compilation lacking this song is not worth your time.

Incline My Heart and I Shall Desire

The people above have been waiting hours upon hours upon hours, braving the elements, anxiously awaiting the moment when the Apple store will open its doors and graciously allow them the privilege of dishing $500+ for the iPad2. This year I chuckled and shook my head as I saw families camping outside the doors of Best Buy...on Thanksgiving morning. Sacrificing time. Sacrificing family. Sacrificing dignity. Longing for the advent of Black Friday.

Whether it is the thrill of the deal, an insatiable desire to consume, or the fruits of a wider capitalist zeitgeist, one thing seems clear: people will do whatever it takes to spend their money on newer, better, bigger, sexier, totally-awesomer stuff. We love our stuff. Our stuff--having our stuff--pleases us. So, it is perfectly reasonable for us to go to whatever lengths necessary in order to acquire more, experience more acquiring.

We will wait as long as is required to experience again that which we find most fulfilling.

I can't help but visualize the weekly procession of church-goers slowly filing forward to receive the Blessed Sacrament of communion. I wonder how long we would be willing to wait in this line; fifteen minutes? Half an hour? Two hours? All morning? Would we pitch our tents like pilgrims on the mount? What would we be willing to give up in exchange for the Blood of Christ: the Cup of Salvation?

The Psalmist writes, "Sacrifice and offering you do not desire, / but you have given me an open ear. / Burnt offering and sin offering you have not required" (Ps. 40:6). "He calls to the heavens above and to the earth, that he may judge his people: / 'Gather to me my faithful ones, who made a covenant with me by sacrifice!' / Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving, / and pay your vows to the Most High" (Ps. 50:5, 14).

I cannot even attempt to fathom the public response if the Apple corporation made the following announcement: "Tomorrow, Apple will be giving iPad2s to every individual who comes to Apple stores and asks for one. The sole condition is that any individual receiving an iPad2 express sincere gratitude. Our supply is unlimited, and all stores will remain open until every person seeking this gift has received it." Pandemonium I think would be accurate. Utter, joyous chaos.

Why, then, is it so easy for us to approach the Eucharist with such morose indifference, or if we're generous with ourselves, gracious entitlement? I suppose that it's human nature in a way. We grow accustomed; even to miracles. I can't remember ever in my life praying, "God of creation, thank you for hydrogen." Without hydrogen, the universe as we know it would not exist. The very fabric of space and time would be utterly unrecognizable from the reality we find ourselves in. Without the fusion of hydrogen a few minutes after the big bang, the most basic building blocks of matter itself never would have come to be; our fate sealed billions of years before our most distant of ancestors even had a solid piece of rock to take a single step on. While I'm thinking about it...Dear God, seriously, thank you for hydrogen. Amen.

This, however is the beauty, the mystery, the reality of what is taking place before us on the altar every time we participate in the Eucharist, or in English, the Thanksgiving. The fabric of our existence, the building block, the cornerstone of our reality, the Divine Logos by which all that is (seen and unseen) came to be, makes Himself present for us to hear, to love, to eat. Eternal fulfillment.

A prayer of St. John Chrysostom:

O Lord my God, I know that I am not worthy nor sufficient that you should enter under my roof into the habitation of my soul, for it is all deserted and in ruins, and you have no fitting place in me to lay your head. But as you humbled yourself from the heights of your glory, so now bear me in my humility; as you did deign to lie in a manger in a cave, so deign now also to come into the manger of my mute soul and corrupt body. As you did not refrain from entering into the house of Simon the leper, or shrink from eating there with sinners, so also vouchsafe to enter the house of my poor soul, all leprous and full of sin. You did not reject the sinful woman who ventured to draw near to touch you, so also have pity on me, a sinner, approaching to touch you. And grant that I may partake of your All-holy Body and Precious Blood for the sanctification, enlightenment and strengthening of my weak soul and body; for the relief from the burden of my many sins; for my preservation against all the snares of the devil; for victory over all my sinful and evil habits; for the mortification of my passions; for obedience to your Commandments; for growth in your divine Grace and for the inheritance of your Kingdom.

This red blotch is the most distant object ever viewed in the universe. To reach this compact galaxy of very hot, very massive, young stars, just jump in your car and drive non-stop at 700 million miles per hour. It will take you 13.2 billion years to get there.

With Fear and Trembling

I have always been intrigued by a device featured in Søren Kierkegaard's pseudonymous work, Fear and Trembling, which re-frames the Biblical story of Abraham and Isaac. I share his fascination with the story itself and sense that the theme of faith as illustrated in the Torah is much more rich and complicated than the way it is traditionally told lets on. So, mimicking his project, I have layed out two aspects of the story that have haunted me of late. Kierkegaard's intention in his retelling of Scripture (and mine here) is not sacrilegious, but worshipful. My hope is that these alternate stories invoke contemplation on an often neglected aspect of faith which Kierkegaard sought to bring to light: The faith of Abraham is unique in that it allowed him to believe as true and act upon not only logical impossibilities, but seemingly oppositional commands, contradictory voices. He walked so closely with God that he was able to discern that the same voice which commanded him to love commanded him to sacrifice; the same God who told him to sacrifice was the same God who told him to spare. And in all this, Abraham's faith held fast. He was not shaken or disheartened or confused, and I believe all these things should trouble us to our core as we examine the role of faith in our own lives. 

Abraham, the old man, was awoken from a deep sleep by a familiar voice. The voice was יהוה‎ (YHWH) calling to him, "Abraham!" In the night, יהוה‎ delivered unto him a stern command. Our father Abraham lay perfectly still, eyes fixed, awake until the early hours of the morning. Gathering two young men and his beloved son of promise, Isaac, he set out for the land of Moriah. As the days passed, Abraham rode on in silence, unable to move his lips to confess to his companions his purposes in leading them across the desert. During this time his face grew ever darker, eyes deep and empty. On the third day, he looked up and saw the mount in the distance, cursing it from the depths of his heart. "יהוה‎, You have brought into existence everything that is; nothing is beyond the depths of Your knowledge or the breadth of Your power. You do not forsake your people, yet you ask this thing of me. From the dust I beg you, that it may not be so." When father and son came to the place God had shown Abraham, he built an altar to the Lord. Clutching the knife at his side, his arm shook violently. As Isaac gazed at his father, his heart trembled, "The fire and the wood are here, but we have brought with us no lamb for a burnt offering." Abraham was unable to reply. "Father?" Isaac cried. Abraham answered him, "And yet this is what our Lord has required."As Abraham took the weapon, reaching out his hand to slaughter his son, an angel of the Lord called from Heaven, "Do not lay your hand on the boy. I know now that you fear God, since you have not withheld your only son." Abraham fell to the ground, gnashing his teeth with a loud moan. "You have counted my faith towards You as righteousness, and yet You see fit to test me and destroy my heart!" As they returned down the high mountain, Isaac saw a ram caught by the horns in a thicket. Gently, he placed his hand on the animal's head and set it free. From that day Abraham called his God אהיה אשר אהיה (Ehyeh asher Ehyeh), for the Lord stayed hidden behind Himself. 

                           ************************************** 

At night, the clouds hid the light of the moon as Abraham slept. A voice crept to his ear and spoke, "Abraham." The elderly man heard this as the voice of the Lord and, casting a protective arm across his wife, replied, "Here I am." And again God spoke. "Fetch your only son, Isaac, the one you love. Bring him to the land of Moriah, to a mountain that I will show you. There you will sacrifice him as a burnt offering to your God." In fury Abraham rose from his bed shouting, "Adversary, you are not the Lord, but הַשָׂטָן (ha-satan), come to oppose me! Has יהוה brought me out of Ur of the Chaldeans that I might curse my duty as a father and slay my child as the pagans do? Get behind me, accuser, for I will not allow you to obstruct the covenant the Lord has made with me for the blessing of all!" 

Raise High the Debt Ceiling, Carpenters

It pains me not in the slightest to open up this little discussion by entirely neglecting the point. I wish in the first place to apologize for its title. I suppose the apology should be squared directly at two people, really. First, J. D. Salinger himself. Mr. Salinger, I trust you will forgive the profaning of one of your perfectly good stories, as well as my voice, which, the more I write, seems more lifted from them all (although it really is a matter of debate whether I first heard myself through your writing, or if the writing taught me how to be heard). Courtesies aside, you are in fact dead, and if you were not, would certainly consider the benefits of being so if you found out anyone was blogging a word about you. Second, Mr. J. D. Weichhand. Josh, I'm going to be honest: I just really want you to read everything I write and give me your approval. You are the Seymour to my Buddy Glass. Having said that, I'm thinking about it more and it's remarkable how true that is in so many ways. Just don't kill yourself.

There is no political subject matter which consistently enthuses me less than finance. I think part of this is related to the fact that most financial issues deemed political, to me, should be more accurately classified as moral questions. Case-in-point perhaps being the classic: Is it okay for some hard-working people to be outrageously rich while others who work just as hard are in poverty? Does anyone have the right to tell the rich they are too rich? If this is a simple political question, then one's answer places him or her somewhere on a scale between Bleeding Socialist and Heartless Capitalist Banker. St. Paul perhaps urges us to expand the conversation. 

The other reason it is so hard to care about the debt ceiling, inflation, or the stock market is because the whole thing is so artificial to me. Wall Street invents money out of thin air by betting on a company's failure, literally getting paid for doing nothing. Meanwhile, the government is fighting a multi-trillion dollar war, and all that's needed for both absurdities to continue is the printing of more money. So why shouldn't the economic elite who know the game be able to amass personal fortunes like a slight-of-hand magician with an ace up his sleeve, when our entire monetary system is just as deceptive and slanted?

Let us also remember that this entire 'debate' is an ideological sideshow. The government spending in question has already been approved by the same phonies standing up on the Hill telling the other side to cut back. Having this debate now only determines whether or not the country will pay those bills. The only purpose of this whole charade of the Right's is to rub the bellies of their tea party supporters. Regarding these, a few words may be appropriate. In its current embodiment, the tea party movement is the worst thing to happen to American politics in my lifetime. It's not that I disagree with every single thing they stand for (which I do). It's not that people who tote guns, dislike foreigners, and hate the idea of everyone being able to go to the doctor scare me (which they do). It's not even that many of them lap up every word of a bona fide crazy person like Glenn Beck (which they do). (Dear reader, this is all starting to sound mean-spirited, but please remember that it's not mean if it's true.) (I apologize for the recent mean-spirited parenthetical disclaimer.)

What frightens me about the tea party is that they have successfully taken the entire Republican party by the throat. Any of us who follow Conservative politics for five minutes will know that the current modus operandi is: Raise taxes, you're gone. Spend money on any program but warfare, you're gone. I think to some extent all these Republicans are trying to do here is keep their jobs. What the tea party has created is a political system entirely contrary to what their dear founding fathers intended; a political system in which compromise is out of the question and one is tricked into believing that every choice is a choice between two ideological extremes. Remember when Mitch McConnell proposed a perfectly sane compromise deal at the beginning of this whole debacle? The man was practically crucified in the conservative media. Trying to see where the other side is coming from, give-and-take are tantamount to treason. A few weeks ago Glenn Beck flat out said that what our nation is facing is a choice between fascist Communism and Libertarian freedom. In other words, there is no middle ground. Wouldn't you rather be a tea-partier than a Communist??

I remember a while back, after the recent health-care bill passed (typically referred to as 'Obamacare'), I was really disappointed in Dennis Kucinich for voting for it. Kucinich is a man I have a deep respect for and one of the only people in Washington I trust. How could he sell out like this? He promised to fight for single-payer, but now has voted for a bill that effectively hands over thousands of new customers to the insurance companies! I was impressed when he sent out a letter to his supporters explaining his vote. The short of it comes down to the fact that he saw a 'yes' vote on that less-than-stellar bill as at least a tiny baby step away from the current system. After speaking with the president at length the day before the vote, he realized that a 'no' vote would be much more damaging in that it would halt the debate altogether and no one knew at that point how long it would be before they would have the majority votes necessary to pass any kind of reform again. So he compromised. He looked at the bigger picture and said, "This is too important to take an ideological stand and cast a meaningless vote." As I look back, I don't think Dennis sold out at all. His ideological stand was the countless hours he spent educating people on socialized care, working the House floor, and never arguing for anything less than what he knew to be the best thing for America.

This is exactly where the Republicans are a complete and utter failure right now. The American people aren't hearing arguments for why tea party policies are the best thing for the country. We are simply being scared into believing that the country is on the verge of apocalypse unless the tea party has its way (and I say that with complete seriousness). We are being told that compromise is out of the question because one side and one side alone has access to the divine revelation of what the United States is and how to save it. No deviation from the straight and narrow can be afforded.

If we all walk away from this glorified Lebron-announcement with anything, it should be a recognition that the only way we are going to stop our country from walking down an extremely scary path is to refuse the hand we are dealt.

The Divine Life of Animals [Part 1]

To my long-lost readers, I offer my deepest and most shameless apologies. We are rapidly approaching the one year anniversary of my last posting. In an attempt (yet again) to eradicate what--to anyone who has sought after any semi-regular writing regimen--seems to be an unyielding tendency towards silence and failure, I have decided to undertake a book review of sorts. My ultimate goal however is not critical, but conversational. After a period of digestion (or gestation, as the case may be), I will simply dump my thoughts into the void you and I, dear reader, currently occupy. Onward:

The Divine Life of Animals: One Man's Quest to Discover Whether the Souls of Animals Live On

Introduction

Disregarding its title, my purposes in reading this book have nothing to do with the kind of New Age, All Dogs Go to Heaven, Hollywood Hinduism it seems to imply. I picked up this book because it has long been my conviction that something is missing from the standard way of talking about animals and the created world we share with them. Even as I say that, it strikes me that in typical contemporary discourse on any topic related to nature, the idea that we actually share anything with animals is a foreign one. By this I mean more than the human choice to share one's household with an animal, or tossing seeds and breadcrumbs at a few of the wild ones, or even our moral obligation to protect their natural habitat. What I am interested in exploring is the spiritual identity of all created things; an identity we share in communion with as co-participants in the self-revelation of God. This book may or may not go into these things, but I hope at least it will be a springboard.

In this opening chapter, Tompkins brings up two interesting points of discussion. The first is a very brief exploration of the word nephesh as it appears in the Hebrew scriptures. This word is a rich, multi-faceted word which, when translated into English, is flattened out as the fairly generic word soul. He illustrates that, for the ancients, one's nephesh was not an etherial thing or essential meta-self which goes away to Heaven when we die. "Indeed, our nephesh is what makes each of us who we are" (9). In Genesis, God breathes nephesh into the nose of Adam, creating the first human. Tompkins is fairly successful here in helping break down our cultural resistance to an idea such as the animal soul. I also think this enriched conceptualization of what soul is can be helpful in our own self-understanding as image-bearers. Scripture is very clear that God is not simply interested in 'soul-winning' or taking us away from our bodies. Our physical bodies are to be redeemed, as they themselves are essential to our identity. Nephesh, the soul, is not a removed spirit that eventually flees elsewhere; it is the breath in our lungs, the blood in our veins, and our eternal identity as living things. That being said, I think more discussion is needed in regards to whether or not there is a distinction between our identity as created (living) things, and personhood.

The second point brought up in the introduction I found noteworthy addresses the transition between the child's innocent emotional/spiritual connection to and sense of wonderment towards creation--particularly animals--and the removed, informed coldness of adulthood toward the same. "'Children often identify with animals in ways that amuse and frustrate us...spending emotion with an abandon that adults, with their thrifty investments and prudent decisions, cannot afford'" (11). Tompkins gives several examples of ways in which children, who know about death, and see it in various forms in media frequently, are often struck by the horror of death seemingly for the first time when it is related to animals. As a child, the author was moved by an experience attempting to feed a starving dog in Mexico and being met with reproach by his mother who saw his actions as wasteful. He had surely seen hungry people before, but I think most of us would agree children have a unique relationship with animals and seem to have an intuitive inclination towards sharing life with them in a way that is lost with age. I resonated with this discussion myself. I don't recall the name of the movie or much of what it was about, but the important point is that the story revolved around a real, not cartoon otter. As I remember it, the otter is accidentally killed in a creek by a human digging with a shovel. For months afterward, maybe even years (my parents would know better), my bed-time prayers included, "Help me forget the otter movie." There's no doubt in my mind I had encountered death before in movies or playing cowboys and Indians, but there was something about an emotional connection I made with that animal that made the reality of death hit me for the first time: Things die. When they die, they're not here anymore. When I, with my child's mind tried to see where they would be after that, all I saw was a blank space. The idea of nothingness scared me more than any monster or nightmare.

Potable Quotable: 

"We patronize [animals] for their incompleteness, for their tragic fate of having taken form so far below ourselves. And therein we err, and greatly err. For the animal shall not be measured by man. In a world older and more complete than ours they move finished and complete, gifted with extensions of the senses we have lost or never attained, living by voices we shall never hear. They are not brethren, they are not underlings; they are other nations, caught with ourselves in the net of life and time, fellow prisoners of the splendor and travail of the earth" (12). -Henry Beston

Cultural Isolationism: The American Right and NYC

In case you haven't had the chance to talk to a conservative lately: THE MUSLIMS ARE TRYING TO BUILD A MOSQUE IN NEW YORK CITY ON GROUND ZERO AND ANY PATRIOTIC, CAPITALISM-LOVING AMERICAN SHOULD BE UTTERLY OFFENDED!!

When I first heard about the proposed plans to build a mosque near the former World Trade Center site, my initial response was pretty mild; I really didn't care. Then, to my surprise, several weeks later I realized we were in the midst of a media explosion concerning what had apparently become a supremely important, hot-button issue. Shortly thereafter I could not believe the extent to which people were losing their minds over the whole thing.

I have no interest in recapping (as I'm sure you have no interest in re-reading) this whole debacle from start to finish. I would, however, like to simply stake up a few points and present my interpretation of one side of these events, considering I have very limited knowledge of what is actually taking place 'on the ground,' as it were. 

Cultural Isolationism: The American Right

I have to say the irony here is hilarious to me. For the last 2 years, the Right has tirelessly undergone a flash makeover from the aggressive neo-conservatism of George W. Bush and John McCain to a nostalgic, half-baked constitutionalism led by media stars such as Glenn Beck and Sarah Palin rather than traditional politicians. So, I suppose it's no surprise that the precious Constitution of the United States--tearfully clung to when fighting taxes and gun laws--has so suddenly been put in check by questions of prudence and (imagine!) contingency.

That being said, it seems clear that with the November elections rapidly approaching, the party of Rush Limbaugh and Newt Gingrich have thrown their ideals out the window in order to concoct a very powerful wedge issue. The republic as we know it cannot function efficiently when people try to understand one another and find some unum in their pluribus. When we are on the eve of an election, it is essential for citizens to be pushed as far to one side or another in order to ensure a decisive victory.

The goal here, as per usual for the GOP since 9/12/01, is to exploit the emotional memories of September 11 to conjure up an Us vs. Them situation which I'm calling Cultural Isolationism. In the same way economic isolationism seeks to protect domestic product and labor by shutting out all outside influence, I see recent trends in conservative politics trying to protect American culture--and I should stress that this is an idealized, fabricated notion of the true founding-fathers-judeo-christian-American culture--and 'American values' by seeking to divide and isolate.

We must be extremely mindful of what is going on here, and what the results will be if we allow a very select few to determine what American culture--or perhaps more accurately, American demographics--should look like. For the American right, it's clear this Islamic center issue is not a Constitutional one. Nor is it even an issue of respect for the dead. This has everything to do with fear and power. Fear of the outside, fear of appearing weak, and power to melt the great American experiment down to a neatly defined, isolated conservative reduction.

There is really no debate, as far as I can tell, over whether anyone has the right to build a place of worship; of course they do. Furthermore, we all know it's wrong to forbid someone from building a place of worship just because they are of the same religion as a random group of terrorists. Let's instead think about who is benefiting from this even being a debate, and whose lives go by the wayside while it happens.

On Single Party Rule or Democracy

Last week on Hardball, Chris Matthews brought up what I thought were some pretty poignant observations regarding the current political landscape in the United States:

I think this analysis is simple and spot-on, and it struck a chord with me by bringing to the fore an underlying ethos that seems to be so prevalent in ever-evolving conservative circles such as the tea party movement (and this is not to say it is not also present in much of the Democrat Party) which states, "We alone have access to the truth on how to run the country; if you're not one of us, you're out." I've always found the tea parties to be wholly uninspiring and relatively confusing; the only unifying thread as far as a political philosophy is CUT TAXES--or, if we're being generous we might be able to add KEEP THE MEXICANS OUT to the platform. Yes, people are entitled to their ideology, but why is this problematic politically?

Matthews here is pointing towards a key aspect of democratic societies that is being neglected in increasingly troubling ways both in the United States and Europe. Democracy by definition is pluralistic. I strongly believe that despite the way we typically think of democratic processes (particularly voting) as majority rule, democracy must include empowering and allowing a voice for the minority (or more accurately, minorities; and by this, I mean any person[s] either not represented by the majority, or neglected by its policies). As evidenced by the latest parliamentary election in the Netherlands, this idea can be rapidly forgotten amidst fear and xenophobia in the face of cultural change.

If we are to retain the idea of democracy any longer, we ought never adopt platforms which seek to homogenize or exclude. Rather, we should be vigilantly generous and hospitable; inviting the Other in, and seeking out any voice which is not being heard.

Deconstructions of the Fourth Kind: The Church, Apologetics, and Horror Flicks

1.

I think we often underestimate the horror/sci-fi genre. I recently watched The Fourth Kind, a film about alien abductions starring the equally underrated Milla Jovovich. The film is fairly unique in that its aim is to present itself as a direct portrayal of actual events by interspersing 'actual footage' and 'real audio' compiled from various events surrounding a series of fourth kind encounters in the city of Nome, Alaska. Often, 'actual' and 'dramatized' scenes are shown on screen simultaneously. Jovovich even appears on screen at the beginning of the film, giving a sort of public service disclaimer:

I'm actress Milla Jovovich, and I will be portraying Dr. Abigail Tyler in The Fourth Kind. This film is a dramatization of events that occurred October 1st through the 9th of 2000, in the Northern Alaskan town of Nome. To better explain the events of this story, the director has included actual archived footage throughout the film. This footage was acquired from Nome psychologist Dr. Abigail Tyler, who has personally documented over 65 hours of video and audio materials during the time of the incidents. To better protect their privacy, we have changed the names and professions of many of the people involved. Every dramatized scene in this movie is supported by either archived audio, video or as it was related by Dr. Tyler during extensive interviews with the director. In the end, what you believe is yours to decide. Please be advised, that some of what you're about to see is extremely disturbing.

This opening scene is striking to me in that it really (whether purposefully or not) speaks to the entire philosophical crux of the film. On the surface, when the audience is told that what they believe is theirs to decide, the question seems to concern whether or not they will choose to believe that intelligent life exists elsewhere than earth and that these life forms have indeed been encountered and interacted with.

However, the underlying issue illustrated by this scene is not a decision regarding the facts, but rather, the filmmaker.

2.

As a kid, I picked up slight-of-hand card tricks as a hobby and still enjoy doing them, though I don't dedicate the same amount of time to it that I used to. One of my favorite tricks, and one that consistently baffles people despite its simplicity, owes its success to me, the magician, blatantly lying about what is transpiring without the knowledge of you, the observer; the shocking reveal as the desired cards are produced at the end of the trick is only amazing if you believe that I have indeed done what I said I did in order to get there--and you always do.

The reveal in the film--increasingly intense 'actual' footage and audio--is more than convincing if it is accepted as such; it would take a lot of explaining to describe why one would not believe the conclusion the film logically leads us to. The real question the audience is faced with in the film is whether or not the filmmakers are lying when they say that this is 'actual footage,' etc; certainly the film is much scarier if the observer believes it is. Herein lies the brilliance of a horror film like Michael Haneke's Funny Games: While it has become a trend in the genre to rely on the perceived reality or realness of the events to elicit the desired response from the audience, Haneke bucks this impulse at every turn and constantly reminds the viewer of the interpretive process.

The film constantly reminds you that it is a film, and that it, not you, determines what you see and when. It is without this crutch that Haneke finds a way to freak you out regardless.

3.

I've always had an aversion towards apologetics; at least the kind of apologetics used either to 'convince' unbelievers of the validity of Christian doctrine, or to frame Christianity in such a way as to make it appear 'reasonable' to those who do not adhere to it. Let it be known that I would not reject the usefulness of apologetics altogether; we of course ought to know the Scriptural reasons why we believe what we believe. But, there seems to be a line that systematic theology almost always steps over, where apologetics seems to merely subjugate the narrative nature of our faith to the modern Enlightenment's ideas of how pure (i.e. male, white, etc.) reason can break free of its own contextuality in order to grasp--on it's own--'universal' truth.

Even in this compromised state, apologetics fails in its task of 'convincing.' Christian apologetics consistently (and necessarily) fall back on the Holy Scriptures as their starting point. However, this appeal, while having the benefit of being simple, is nonetheless seen as circular to one who does not accept those Scriptures as authoritative, inspired, infallible, or true. In other words, at some point, traditional apologetics, like The Fourth Kind, require the audience to accept certain notions about the starting point itself. One must first accept that the filmmaker not only has correctly interpreted all the necessary information, but is also telling the truth about it.

So, the real question systematic theology fails to ask, and the question the Church should be a living answer to in my opinion, is not "How can we prove that our beliefs are true?" but rather, "How can we show that we believers (and the tradition we follow) are truthful?" Perhaps the distinction is a subtle one, but I hope what I'm getting at is fairly clear. If we go back to Funny Games, in contrast, we can perhaps see the benefit of not requiring as a prerequisite that those outside first buy into any number of background assumptions that we within have learned how to accept. Perhaps we can find a way to say, "This is not a documentary, this is a horror film. If the Christian faith were as simple as finding the right objective information to prove its reality, then it wouldn't be a faith at all. So let's be up front and honest about what's going on here."

This is why I am far more attracted to the notion of creeds, as opposed to a bulleted list of propositional truths. There is one line in particular from the Nicene Creed that I think will perhaps tie all of these things together nicely:

We believe in one holy catholic and apostolic church.

This may get me into hot water with my Reformed-leaning friends, but to me, this seems to sit prior in importance to doctrinal tools such as sola Scriptura. I say this because the Word does not hang in a vacuum where any logical person will find and accept it on their own. I think even Scripture is self-aware of this. Here, Paul--perhaps the most black and white, type-A, right-brained, logical thinker in the canon--describes our faith not as an objectively perceivable truth to be proven, but rather as a powerful mystery to be proclaimed. (I would encourage you to read through 1 Corinthians 1-2 once now and again after finishing this article for a better sense of what I'm aiming at, as this passage illustrates much of this perfectly.)

In the creed, we not only affirm that we believe one holy catholic and apostolic church exists, but also that we believe and practice faith in--within--the same. There is one gospel (catholic), and that narrative has been preserved (holy) throughout history by being passed on from those who witnessed with their own eyes (apostolic) the fullness of its mystery. Recalling the transfiguration of our Lord, Peter reminds us to hold onto and embrace this, not dismiss it in favor of rhetorical arguments.

If the Church is to shed outdated notions of how salvation is a matter of using human wisdom to convince people of the truth, we must start by embracing our own identity; a unified, communal identity instituted at the cross. This identity is embodied in the Church, where the many are welcomed as one body, the Body of Christ, into God's presence. The union is not a logical social contract and there are no legal or scientific means to describe or prove what we have experienced in our lives and what the apostles witnessed with their eyes.

We might simply point to the Eucharist and invite others to partake. To me, the Eucharist is the greatest testament to the mystical union that has taken place between Christ and those who want to know him as Messiah. Not only is there immense power in receiving the Body and Blood, united with one another in spirit, but the great mystery of Christ made present adds what I think is a very real physical aspect to our collective identity of being His Body.

This is so much more beautiful and real than bulleted apologetic arguments. And hopefully, by calling the world into this picture, we won't have to rely on fooling them into thinking Christianity is something it is not; namely, some sort of rationalized scientific system. (This is not to say that faith lies in opposition to science; quite the contrary.) We are called to stand out from the world and its systems that have been tried and reinvented ad nauseum throughout the millenia. We hope that if nothing else, we are seen as truthful when with full conviction we proclaim the great mystery of our faith:

Christ has died.
Christ is risen.
Christ will come again.

Okay, Glenn Beck (Rights, the Constitution, and Soviet Aesthetics)

From time to time I purposely subject myself to things like Glenn Beck's television show. Call it a kind of monastic self-flagellation. I try to be well-rounded in my consumption of political commentary, and I really do believe that we all benefit from hearing things from a different perspective. On one particular occasion, however, after watching a mere 13 minutes of his program, my head hurt so much that I couldn't even laugh at the absurdity of what was being spewed.

I love a good discussion, and I love hearing opinions that are not mine. But, dear Glenn Beck, please, for my sake, ensure that your opinions at least make sense.I've taken the liberty of transcribing the best part to give you an accurate representation of what was actually said without leaving anything out and without paraphrasing, but if you can stomach it, you can watch the full, weird, pathetic, woeful lamentation here (and i don't hesitate to use those words, because sounding pathetic and woeful is clearly Beck's shtick). Beck began his program by using an old wooden chair to represent the quote-unquote true America as it was in its 'original state.' Then came:

There were rallies today in California and all around the country (facing video of protesters lining the streets with placards). They were promoted as--look at these pinheads--they were promoted as 'saving education.' Well who--who doesn't want to save education? But the education budget wasn't the real goal. Let me show you a little something about the people involved in these protests. These were the posters that were used to promote this (walking toward a large poster featuring a slogan, and a logo of a fist on a book, painted in red, black, and white hues). Right here: 'Education is a human right.' Really? Wow. Education is a human right--boy this--almost looks like old, Soviet propaganda art dud'n'it? These people feel so strongly about education, you think they'd be educated to know that education is not a right. The Constitution doesn't mention that one. Let me clarify that; the United Sates Constitution doesn't mention that; this one does (holding a red document inscribed with Russian writing). This one. This is the Soviet constitution. Oh, it mentions education; free education for everybody, mhm. Let me help. Save the education. Rights do not come from government, they never have. If they do, you end up with a completely different government. You end up with a footstool or you end up with, what are those things that--stockades. Your rights come from God. If government grants you rights then you're a slave to the government, because if they grant them, they can also take them away. In America you don't have that right. This is what knowing what this chair is all about is all about. You gotta know what it is. Adding in education is just adding another coat of ugly paint; another ding, another scratch, somebody else just standing on it or, whatever. It wasn't designed to do that. If you want government to start granting rights then perhaps it's time to start looking for something other than a chair. Something entirely different than this because that's not what this one does. That's what this one does (raising the Soviet constitution).

First, I just want to lay out one of Beck's lines of persuasion: If the the cause is protected by the Soviet constitution (and the art looks Soviet!), then the cause is fought for by communists. Therefore, I'd like to point out to Glenn that article 53 of the Soviet constitution defines marriage as being between one man and one woman. Right now, Mr. Beck, there are people--people protesting to have an identical article added to our sacred constitution. Here--in the God-blessed U.S. of A.! Please, Glenn--reveal this conspiracy to the world. Stop these pinheads from passing these--they call them 'protection of marriage' acts--but we know what the real goal is.

Second, I think Beck is very confused in regards what he actually thinks about the nature of rights. Granted, his job is to say things, not to think about them, so we must offer him a measure of grace. Let's try to help him out, though, by pointing out a few conflicting little nuggets:

• "...education is not a right. The Constitution doesn't mention that one." Again, let's lay out this logic: The U.S. Constitution does not cite education as being a right. Therefore, education is not a right. We can also infer based on this argumentation that the Constitution is exhaustive in its delineation of rights, since we should not be adding more. Furthermore, we have assurance that by way of granting us the rights it does mention, the document also assures them to us against forces which might seek to take them away. Fair enough.

• "If government grants you rights then you're a slave to the government, because if they grant them, they can also take them away." Wait, Glenn, so are you saying that you and I and all U.S. citizens are enslaved by the Constitution rather than liberated by it?

• "Rights do not come from government, they never have." Oh, okay good, you had me scared for a second there. But you're still appealing to the Constitution to hold your whole argument together. So, if the rights granted in the Constitution are not granted by the government, then who grants them?

• "Your rights come from God." Alright, I'm following. Our rights come from God, and the Constitution is an explanation of those rights. Now, just so i can pass this knowledge on to unbelievers, can you point out to me the Scriptures the founding fathers used when they were putting this list of rights together? Maybe just the ones talking about the right to form a well-regulated militia, protection from quartering of troops, protection from unreasonable search and seizure, oh and right to counsel, I better memorize that verse, prohibition of excessive bail, and lastly, since states' rights is a big issue right now, where in the Bible should I look to show people that powers not delegated to the United States are reserved to the states or the people? ...what do you mean there's nothing in the Bible about that? Okay, I get it, so the United States Constitution is an extra-Biblical revelation the founding fathers of the nation were divinely inspired to write down. Got it.

The talented Mr. Beck has apparently acquired the unique ability to believe three distinctly different things about the nature of rights at the same time! Rights are granted by the Constitution and rights have never come from government (in fact, "If you want government to start granting rights then perhaps it's time to start looking for something other than a chair") and political rights come from God!

Well, I do think Glenn is right about one thing. If your entire conception of the rights we now or ever could have is based on the U.S. Constitution (the version we have in 2010), then you truly are a slave to it. And I must stress here, on a philosophical basis, that more accurately, you are a slave to your conception of and interpretation of that piece of paper. In Beck's case, one can conveniently forget about something like the 9th amendment (my personal favorite):

The enumeration in the Constitution, of certain rights, shall not be construed to deny or disparage others retained by the people.

So here, I will try, on behalf of our good friend Glenn Beck to clear up some of his confusion:

• There are indeed certain fundamental things we know about humans, by nature of their being created in the image of God, which entitle them to certain rights.
• However, the rights themselves are not granted by God. It is people themselves who have the responsibility of recognizing these truths and seeking to allow various rights and responsibilities universally to others.
• In the case of the United States Constitution, our founding fathers wrote down an interpretation of--not an explanation of--the 'inalienable rights' they observed; they labored within their own personal/historical/social contexts to provide the nation with a basic understanding of these. So, for them it made sense that the right to vote applied only to white, land-owning males. However, over time, our interpretation of that same right has evolved.
• In addition to the evolution of recognized rights, our common collection of basic human rights, and our conceptions of them, is equally dynamic. Obviously, part of this is due to shifting collective political mindsets. However, I think the bigger reason is that the nature of our shared experiences is constantly changing. For example, not only have we chosen over time to collectively reject the idea of slavery itself, the picture we get of 21st century slavery is vastly different than the picture of 18th century slavery; the specific human rights relating to this issue often deal with things like forced sexual relations with children, as opposed to, say, racial domination.
• If the communal landscape is such that people choose to deem education a right, then by way of the liberties supposedly entitled to them by prior rights agreements within given communities (such as the Constitution), the people may choose to paint their chair whatever color they please. (Or create and adopt new agreements; see The Universal Declaration of Human Rights, drafted in 1948, believe it or not. See specifically article 26.)

As far as I can see, aside from blatant errors in argumentation, Beck's fundamental error is that of making the issue of Rights an ontological question, rather than a hermeneutic one (for that matter, I think he's forgotten that rights, in practice, are a political question!). So, it's no wonder all he has to grasp onto to hold his position together are bizarre conspiracies, fear tactics, and nostalgia. Though, I'm not sure if nostalgia is the right word for pining after bygone things that were never there in the first place; I think that might be more related to dementia.

Sustainable, Responsible House Cleaning

So, readers, I'm aware that many of you are, like me, seeking out ways to be more conscious of how we relate to and interact with the world around us in our daily actions. Many of you are married, have your own places, or are just seeking to be more responsible; others are wonderful, tree-hugging hippies and vegans who will no doubt think I'm way behind the times on this.

At any rate, I thought I would pass on some info about a company I've been reading up on called Ecover (yep, click that), who makes ecologically-friendly cleaning products for everything from your car to your laundry to your hands. The point of their cleaning products is to reduce the insane amount of chemicals we not only dump into the environment when we throw out our garbage, but also the harmful materials we're subjecting ourselves to. They are also all about rethinking the industry and being ethical and sustainable from factory to store. The natural plant products used are conscientiously farmed, and both of their super sweet green factories (no longer an oxymoron) actually attract tourists because they're so mind-blowingly not wretched. If you look at the picture above, you can see it's naturally insulated with grass, and there's a bunch of skylights that follow the path of the sun, so next to no artificial light is needed. You can read about that too.

Oh, and their products are vegan!

Also, the prices are pretty killer and practically all of them are as cheap, if not cheaper than the crapola we're poisoning ourselves and the environment with right now.

Viggo on Dennis

Obama's best material during the campaign was cherry-picked from the things Kucinich had been talking about for a long time. And Kucinich continues to be really the people's congressman. He is the one with the most conscience regarding health care, the banking issue, the bailout. He's the guy who said we should not go into Iraq, and was called a traitor for it. He was a guy who said, "This Patriot Act is not a good thing, we should not vote for it." Even people in his own party were saying, "Why do you say that?" And he says, "Because I read it," and there was silence. 'Cause none of them had read it. They just voted yes because they were told to. Same with health care stuff.

Viggo Mortensen: actor, poet, painter, publisher, photographer, smart dude. You can check out the full interview over at Mother Jones.

Terrorism: Act or Label?

Several weeks ago, you may may remember hearing about the Boston man who was arrested for plotting an attack on a shopping mall as an act of jihad. What struck me about the coverage of this story was the constant use of this word terrorism and its other forms.

I immediately recalled the horrific events that transpired in an Amish school house several years ago.

I remembered when news broke of a brazen shooting in the Holocaust museum in Washington, D.C. and how I wondered what can cause a man to hate like that.

I also flashed back to my sophomore year of college, sitting in the lounge at school, watching as the surreal Virginia Tech shooting unfolded. The Virginia Tech attack particularly affected us as students, hearing about the massacre of 33 people just like us.

Then, news of the execution of John Allen Muhummad today brought back memories of the D.C. sniper shootings and the way a whole portion of the nation was stricken with absolute fear.

The list goes on, and I couldn't help but notice that I never remember hearing "terrorist" or "terrorism" in connection with these events or those who perpetrated them. I wonder, is there some sort of rule of thumb that determines whether vicious attacks like these are either terrorism or just your typical, plain, old, run-of-the-mill mass-murder?

Certainly we can't say that it is the number of victims which crosses the line into terrorism territory; the Virginia Tech shooter killed 33 people in a matter of hours, but wasn't deemed a terrorist.

Nor are we led to believe that targeting a specific group of people for being who they are, because of some sort of agenda, grievance, or twisted logic makes one a terrorist; the anti-Semite in D.C. had every intention of killing Jews, and the man in PA specifically targeted Amish girls.

So, I couldn't help but wonder whether the term "terrorist" only applies to Muslims. I have to say that this largely seems to be the case in post-9/11 United States.

However, I recall that the D.C. sniper professed to being a Muslim, and even talked about jihad in his writings. Being a militant Muslim did not make him a terrorist. And for that matter, neither did brainwashing his teenage accomplice. Perhaps most astonishingly, even INCITING TERROR on a massive scale did not qualify John Allen Muhammad.

Where is the disconnect?

This question was suddenly thrust into the spotlight after the tragic news of the shooting at Fort Hood came out last week. Fox News even put up this poll asking whether the massacre was an "act of terror or a horrific crime".

There is so much wrong with this picture! Not only do we not have a clear picture of what even constitutes terrorism--which, by the way, we are apparently fighting a War against--but what benefit does this distinction even offer us?

I therefore have three questions:

1. If (and this is a majorly huge, theoretical if) one concedes that it is possible to defeat terrorism through the use of War, how can said War be won if its target has no clear definiton? Would not the extent of such a War become as indefinite as its target?
   
2. If the moniker of "terrorist" does not coincide with a specific act, type of act, or motivation, is not the label then a purely political one?
3. Are not all "acts of terror" and "horrific crimes" one in the same?
   

A victim of an act of terror in Jerusalem. A victim of a horrific crime at Virginia Tech.

Rediscovering the Good: or, The Black Eyed Peas Made Me Think??

I've been hearing a lot of the Black Eyed Peas at work lately; my boss is convinced their new album is really good. Undoubtedly, the quartet is one of the most over-exposed pop groups of the last several years, and under normal circumstances I would advise against taking the time to think intelligently about any of their songs, as this could result in a wide range of side-effects from self-inflicted violence to loss of faith. However, a particular section of the song, 'One Tribe,' did stand out to me and I thought I'd throw out a few thoughts:

Compositionally, the lyrics of the song are absolute rubbish, but I was intrigued by one passage which chanted:

Forget about all that evil, evil / That evil that they feed ya, feed ya / Remember that we're one people

I think in a lot of ways The Black Eyed Peas can be seen as representative of (or at least, their success can be seen as a result of) our current over-stimulated, hyper-consumptive, ultra-modern culture. A scary thought, I know, but let's run with it.

It is interesting to me that even in the shallowest cultural outlets of our society, there is this acknowledgment of the existence of evil; and beyond acknowledgment, a condemnation of it. My mind also jumps back to the foreign policy speeches of President George W. Bush, which were not shy about pointing out exactly who and what was evil.

I often hear (and am peeved by) individuals within the Church who, in pontificating vaguely about the destructive influence of (what they call) post-modernism, talk about how the advent of post-modernism has resulted in a moral relativism which causes people to think that anything a person does or believes is 'okay for them.' The essential claim is that there is no longer any recognized concept of sin, evil, etc. I think in rare cases, this may be true for a very small segment of society. However, I think if we look at cultural outlets such as the Black Eyed Peas song in question, we can see that the rise of post-modernism--rising out of modernity--has actually had the opposite effect.

After witnessing widespread, systematic, and cataclysmic violence resulting from the radical culmination of modern ideals, post-modernism, if nothing else, is keenly and tragically aware of the presence and effects of evil in our world.

It seems to me that while much of the Church--at least its conservative or evangelical (I hate that term) branch--is focused on harping at those outside it about what is Bad, what they really need to be teaching (practically and theoretically) is what is Good. I want to stray as far as I can away from talk of 'relevance.' But I do think what we are looking at is a disconnect between the biggest problems facing our world, versus the issues much of the Church is preoccupied with; we are not answering the right questions.

If we look at the work of post-modern philosophy, or the music of the Black Eyed Peas, foreign policy rhetoric, or the face of our culture, there is much agreement on the existence of evil; we see it in racism, warfare, poverty, etc. However, beyond this, what we are struggling to uncover is the existence of good, or at least an agreed upon universal sense of the Good which is more than giving to charities, or supporting local artists. For example, while George W. Bush was very clear on what was evil, he was seemingly very confused about what types of actions or inactions against it were good.

People do not need to be convinced that building up walls between ourselves is wrong; what we are desperately searching for is an answer to how to tear them down and why there is meaning in doing so. What does it truly mean to be 'one people' as the song says?

I am intrigued by the prospect of the Church preaching a radical sense of Christ's gospel message which can perhaps be summed up as, 'Turn from evil and do good!' Furthermore, what he chose to elaborate on at great length was what exactly is the good we are to do (and who gives us the power to do it, and especially why--but that's a topic for another time). When Christ took up John the Baptist's message of repentance, admission of guilt was only half of the equation. It seems the much bigger half (I'm sure there's some crazy mathematical way to show such a thing to be possible) is learning to embody and live out the life we turn towards. I am not saying we should do away with talk of sin, but I think once we have a clearer conception of our task as image-bearers to be salt and light, imitators of a perfect God, and heirs of a Kingdom, specific examples of the evil already recognized in general terms will be brought into stark contrast on their own.

War According to the Artful Dodger

After getting sidetracked for a while, I recently resumed reading Oliver Twist. One passage in particular stood out to me as I read it several nights ago, and I thought it would be worth sharing.

To set this up, the pure and innocent character of Oliver is in the midst of being indoctrinated into a band of young pickpockets headed by the cunning and self-interested Fagin. One of Fagin's most gifted boys, the artful Dodger, is attempting to help Oliver overcome his intrinsic moral objections to adopting a criminal lifestyle:

'If you don't take pocket-handkechers and watches,' said the Dodger, reducing the conversation to the level of Oliver's capacity, 'some other cove will; so that the coves that lose 'em will be all the worse, and you'll be all the worse too, and nobody half a ha'p'orth the better, except the chaps wot gets them--and you've just as good a right to them as they have.'

Fagin commends this explanation and directs the impressionable Oliver to take the Dodger's word for it; he being a boy who "understands the catechism of his trade."

Within the larger context of the book, I think what Dickens wants us to be aware of are the underhanded, often imperceptible ways in which society is taught to accept and even perpetuate various forms of violent exploitation (particularly in this book, systematized, class-based poverty). Taking this a step further (and I'm sure this will roll a few eyeballs belonging to some of you who think I sound like a broken record) I couldn't help but think while reading this how similar the Dodger's enticement is to many contemporary justifications for war.

What the Dodger has successfully done is create an argument which appeals to both the altruistic and the selfish aspects of human nature. People are going to get robbed; that is a fact of life. If indeed people must be robbed, wouldn't they be better off in the end if a good person like you did the robbing? There's no telling what a very bad person might do to the poor soul in the process of robbing them. Furthermore, not only will the person getting robbed be better off if you do the robbing, but you will better your own situation in the process. Everyone wins!

It is worth adding here that in a later conversation with Bill Sykes, Fagin reveals that he sees great promise in the future criminal career of Oliver (a career which will almost strictly profit Fagin himself). However, the key would be to entice the boy to commit his first robbery; then and only then would Oliver fall securely into Fagin's pocket. There he could develop into the next Bill Sykes (but conveniently less strong-willed), who, in addition to burglary, would not shy away from taking a person's life if he saw fit.

I admonish the reader to seek a deeper sensitivity to the sly way in which our societies are sold a proverbial bill of goods relating to matters of war. What the Dodger does not disclose to Oliver is that one's perceived righteousness in carrying out an immoral act does not make the action any less evil. This I believe includes supposed "necessary" evils, as well as those which seem "natural" or inherent to our present reality as robbery in this case was made out to be.

I also found it interesting that Fagin refers to the Dodger's explanation as being an illustration of the "catechism" of the criminal trade; the term catechism being typically used in a religious sense to describe an outline of the beliefs within a given faith. This is another aspect of the way we think about war which I think we need to be keenly aware of. In accepting the rationale for--thus necessarily, acts of and loss of innocent life resulting from--war and warfare, we are not simply making a one-time decision or casting our vote for a single issue; we are choosing to adopt an entire system of belief.

We must also seek an awareness of the principalities (to use the old Biblical term) into whose control we place ourselves when we affirm the tenets of such a "catechism." In many cases, one well-intentioned act can have far-reaching repercussions which place control of our lives (as well as the lives of countless others) in the hands of very dark forces that seek only to desensitize us and further justify increasingly abominable acts.

Questions About Consitutionalism

Over the last several years, I have noticed a pointed rise in the popularity of Constitutionalism. To be fair, I want to note the necessary distinction between what I've seen to be two distinct brands of the movement: The first is Constitutionalism as a comprehensive political stance. I see this platform as being traditionally positive in that its impetus is an affirmation of what they interpret to be a strict adherence to the verbage of the constitution. This is in contrast to the second brand which resides within certain conservative Sean-Hannity-like circles who nominally describe themselves as Constitutionalists when it is politically advantageous to do so (generally during important Supreme Court goings-on such as the Sotomayor hearings), while conversely discarding it altogether when they see fit (generally during times of widespread panic, where it can easily be defended as an action which will protect the nation, for example in support of the Patriot Act). Their use of the term 'Constitutionalism' is typically negative, in the sense that it is almost always invoked when painting themselves as the victims of oppression, e.g. "They want to tax us more and change our health care!"

Obviously, the latter type requires no extended critique, as its absurdity is blatant. (Though I do want to clarify that the absurdity lies only in the use of the term at hand. The political stance is, I believe, as valid as any other.) I do want to briefly address the former, which to me, is very interesting. As previously noted, I do find the comprehensive nature of Constitutionalism admirable. Ironically, I think there are intriguing parallels to Marxism in this regard. At any rate, I think the best way to outline my critiques of and questions about Constitutionalism will be to pose a few broad questions and leave them open for response.

* Why the Constitution? Why not the Articles of Confederation, On Walden Pond, or the Qur'an?

* What exactly is a 'pure' interpretation of the Constitution? Is such an interpretation even attainable for people who are by nature contextual, and carry with them a variety of background assumptions?

* At its root, does the Constitution imply the freedom of future generations to step away from it?

Politweets

The disputed 2009 Iranian presidential election sparked an unprecedented amount of U.S. media coverage, which of course led to a curious amount of attention in pop culture. As I basked in the warm glow of various electronic screens, I couldn’t help but feel a strange sense that something was awry within the bombardment of images of, chatter about, and support for the ensuing political demonstrations.

Time for reflection has helped me get closer to uncovering what I couldn’t put my finger on before: the benefit of devoting mass amounts of media coverage to the Iranian demonstrations, and the specific type of attention it was getting in the United States, would ultimately have nothing to do with the state of democracy in Iran.

As they often do, a few words from Slavoj Zizek ring true for me and seem to speak precisely to such a phenomenon. Describing the techno-savvy, business-minded, yet cause-sensitive people who are at the forefront of capitalism’s recent evolution into a non-self-perpetuating (i.e. not driven by greed alone) system which is very good at making lots of money by trying to care about Stuff at the same time, Zizek notes their odd political ethos by sarcastically pointing out the way they have reworked Marx's observation about the steam engine:

What are all the protests against global capitalism worth in comparison with the invention of the internet?

We are apparently a step even further now, for the overwhelming sense I had when the protests in Iran and the coverage of them were at their peak was that the message we were intended to receive had little to do with Iranian democracy; the real message was, “What is the struggle against totalitarianism worth in comparison with the onset of Twitter?”

Indeed, let’s ask ourselves who the winners of the whole ordeal were: the Iranian people? Certainly not, as their potentially flourishing democracy remains restrained by a totalitarian theocracy. The Iranian establishment? Obviously, Ahmadinejad will always look bad, but even Khamenei will find it hard to possibly look good after suppressing an opposition with very real concerns over the legitimacy of the election. Twitter? The company quickly discovered what the neo-capitalists have known all along, that nothing is as good for business as a humanitarian crisis. This is not to say that Twitter’s end-goal was to exploit the situation of the people of Iran. Nor am I suggesting that the awareness the Western world was allowed via Twitter was not beneficial in some way.

However, I think the subsequent inane Twitterization of everyday life we have seen since that time is evidence that the web site walked away with much gained. From inconsequential celebrities to legitimate news programs, Twitter has suddenly become some kind of proxy journalism; journalism being the institution formerly made up of professionals who sought the public good by seeking out first-hand, the developments society needed to be aware of, in order to bring about change.

It’s not that I find Twitter annoying and pointless (which I do), I just find this growing trend toward e-politics troubling. I remember during the last presidential election in our own country how often I heard facebook and MySpace group numbers being cited on the news. The advent of e-campaigns was the true focus, not political change.

Just as the internet boom failed to translate into deep political change in our own democracy, it is no surprise that we witnessed the same impotency in regards to Iran. While the people of Iran risked their physical well-being to take to the streets and demand to be heard, we in the U.S. failed to do the same. The Western media in general failed to move beyond the fact that Iranians were tweeting, and thus missed why they were doing it. I hope would-be activists in the U.S. soon realize that we can't tweet our way to a better future.

Race as Oppressive Social Construct?

Of late, I've become more and more interested in exploring the philosophy of race. After reading several essays by Cornel West--who for obvious reasons has a vested interest in the subject--and working extensively on theories concerning the identity of the Other in politics for my thesis, I continue to notice the complex ways in which a philosophy of race must necessarily be considered inextricable from a cultural theory of violence.

I'll admit that all these various ideas came crashing together very unacademically tonight as I watched The Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson (which, by the way is the second best late night talk show behind Conan). During a chat with Corkie Roberts about the self-designated supremacy of the white male, Craig made the comment, "Do you know we just elected a black president?"

In light of the context of the conversation, I suddenly thought to myself, But, isn't Barack Obama as WHITE as he is BLACK?

The simple illustration of a man with a white mother and black father being labeled 'black' seems to me an indication that we are talking much more than ethnicity when we talk race. This ironically coincides with a book I had just started earlier today, "Violence" by Slavoj Zizek. In the introduction, Zizek writes, concerning necessary distinctions between various types of violence:

...Subjective and objective violence cannot be perceived from the same standpoint: subjective violence is experienced as such against the background of a non-violent zero level. It is seen as a perturbation of the "normal," peaceful state of things. However, objective violence is precisely the violence inherent to this "normal" state of things. Objective violence is invisible since it sustains the very zero-level standard against which we perceive something as subjectively violent. Systematic violence is thus something like the notorious "dark matter" of physics, the counterpart to an all-too-visible subjective violence. It may be invisible, but it has to be taken into account if one is to make sense of what otherwise seem to be "irrational" explosions of subjective violence.

We Americans are acutely aware of the disturbing volume of subjective violence perpetrated as a result of racial tensions. But, if we take Zizek's cultural theory and examine race in this light, I wonder if the imposition of race itself is the latent systematic act of violence, which, like dark matter, physically holds together our conceptions of peaceful racial normalcy (which, as we know is itself rife with various forms of objective political and economic violence). This ties into an earlier comment of Zizek's that:

...There is a more fundamental form of violence still that pertains to language as such, to its imposition of a certain universe of meaning.

The universe of meaning associated with being black is a universe I personally can observe but never experience or fully understand. However, there is commonality between it and my own racial universe of being white in that both, in my opinion, are violently imposed from without, rather than arising out of self-revelation.

Resulting from externally imposed racial identity, the impulse towards self-segregation is maddeningly more common than I think most people realize, and it's evident everywhere from the locations we choose to live, to the language we use to even talk about race. Imagine, for instance, a white immigrant from Johannesburg who chooses to call herself an "African-American." The term carries with it all of the associations and prejudices of the term 'black,' so I find it puzzling that it is often seen as being more politically correct. While racial identity makes us comfortable by drawing neat lines between us, these lines seem to be the very thing that must be examined and questioned if we are to understand and effectively act against the violence perpetrated because of them.

Returning to the example of our new president, we see this in his own profession of being a black man, in that this identity is entirely a result of experiences resulting from the larger system of racial prejudice and violence which has pre-defined him as 'black.'

So, again, I wonder if I'm way off in thinking that racial identity is itself violent. For the record, I think a 'color-blind' system is equally violent by imposing some sort of neutral identity, over a self-revealed one which would of course include skin color and resulting conceptions based on one's treatment because of it. Yet, behind segregation (self-imposed, or forced), behind prejudice, behind political and economic oppression, the ultimate act of violence seems to be defining who is black and who is white.

Eschatological Musings

In recent weeks I've found myself part of or in the midst of numerous conversations about the so-called "End Times," or eschatology, which I prefer to think of more as the study of the eternal destiny of creation, rather than the "end" of it. I've also found myself constantly running across various articles, essays, and other writings dealing with the subject, some of which I find intriguing and enlightening, others destructive and annoying. Here, I just want to throw out some thoughts and frustrations that seem to frequently recur:

1. First, a pet peeve. The number of Christians whose views on eschatology are shaped primarily if not solely by a popular fiction series rather than Holy Scripture is disturbing. Alright...now I got that out of my system.

2. Second, a little nugget. A rich and helpful conception of a Christian approach to eschatology, perhaps typified by the neo-Calvinists, is that our entire Christian walk is predicated by our desire for the reality of the eschaton to insert itself into our present now. Indeed, Christ taught us to pray precisely this. In this sense, the Lord's coming is very much immanent; as immanent today as it was for the first century Christians St. Paul and St. John wrote their letters to.

3. I think too many people, because of given systems they have adopted, get so hung up on deciphering endless minutia such as what various items of prophesy might represent or point to, subsequently come to believe, or at least tend to lead others to believe, that eschatology is all about "End Times" and our job is to determine when, where, and how those times will come about. Not only do I not see much reason to think "End Times" prophesy deals strictly with Final Things, but we are told numerous times in Scripture that it is not our place to know the hows and whens. Our role is to be watchful and expectant of that future Hope. Being watchful and expectant seems to me to have dense and life-giving ramifications; the ramifications of the former stance seem to be suspicion (e.g. "World government is an evil concept"), false accusation (e.g. "Barack Obama is the anti-Christ"), and a shedding of responsibility (e.g. "Why take care of the earth or stop wars? They're signs of our ticket out of here!").

4. I get confused by the logic of the fundamentalist/dispensational line of thinking which, after declaring that it takes a "literal" view of Scripture, figures: Millennial Reign = literal 1000 years. Tribulation = literal 7 years. The 144,000 = symbolic/figurative number. I am certainly no Jehovah's Witness. Therefore my question is: If the 144,000 is not literal, upon what basis does one so adamantly insist that the Millennium and 7 year Tribulation must be literal numbers?

5. There are also overtones often, but certainly not always, present in the dispensationalist camp which are troubling in that they are more political than Biblical. By linking prophesies and other Scripture concerning Israel directly to its current manifestation as a modern nation-state, this interpretation promotes unquestioning support of the Israeli government to the level of a moral imperative good. I believe that the Christian Church indeed has an intimate link to Israel which demands our support of the Jewish people, but as I engage the pertinent prophesies, I always come out with the conviction that Zion never has and never will be confined by political boundaries.

6. I think it's important to keep in mind that God's end-goal for creation is redemption, not destruction. Redemption is a loaded term, I know, especially if you're not hip to church lingo. Basically, before sin entered the world, all of creation was in harmony with itself and with God. That harmony was subsequently disrupted; dire consequences ensued that still effect us today. I've never seen anything in Scripture that leads me to believe God ever messed up, nor any evidence to think our universe will be simply done away with and a do-over called. I disagree with the thought that sin and evil are powerful enough to utterly ruin what God declared to be Good. God's plan to welcome the universe back into harmony with Himself is a plan of restoration which will right past wrongs, not an apocalypse that will throw the baby out with the bathwater. Even today, God tells us, the power to live beyond the constraints of evil is ours because of the work of Christ.

7. In an effort to end on a symbolic number, perhaps representing the tribulation of reading this blog, I'll present a few random tidbits. >Yes, there will be animals in heaven; not the souls of animals, just your everyday soulless hyenas, chickens, aphids, and orangutans. The only difference will be that in heaven (the restored universe), they won't hurt us or each other and we won't hurt them. >No, I don't think there will be a rapture of the church before, during, or after the tribulation period. (Yes, I'm still allowed to be a Christian.) >I was once told there won't be any oceans in eternity. No, I don't agree. The idea comes from a frequently debated passage in the book of Revelation. However, I think a better interpretation than the "literal" one is the literarily informed one which remembers the ways in which oceans represented divine wrath in Scripture; for instance, when the evil Egyptian army was consumed by the sea, God's chosen people walked straight through it on dry ground. It makes sense that in a description of future Hope, St. John would point out that the wrath of God will disappear along with the corruption which necessitated it. >No, I don't have an eschatological timeline. (Yes, that's cheap.) I'm looking forward to the Bema Seat, but I think after either raising up out of my own freakin grave or watching Jesus descend out of the freakin sky, I won't be too concerned with schedules. Plus to me, timelines, much like systematic theology in general, do more in the way of restriction than they do illumination. >I honestly don't think eternity, heaven, the new earth, whatever you want to call it, will consist of us holding hands with angels singing Don Moen songs non-stop forever. Not that that wouldn't be cool, I just think our eternal activities will be indicative of our new ability to faithfully embody our roles as bearers of the image of God, all the time. I think we'll be eating awesome meals with St. Francis, painting portraits, watching the French Open, taking hot-air balloon rides, loving each other unquenchably, all as an act of worship in the presence of God.