But you can see "The Road" (if you're a sissy)

So I saw the movie version of The Road at a special preview screening for pastors (more on that when I feel like ranting). Interestingly, I found it less disturbing than the book. One reason for this is that even a two-hour film cannot convey the impression of weariness and long-suffering which a novel (even one not much over 200 pages) can. It just moved too quickly to get under one's skin. Additionally, at least one of the most horrifying vignettes was left out. This is disappointing from a thematic perspective, since it provided a counterpoint to the relationship of the main characters. (And no, I'm not going to tell you what it was. I have some sense of decency left.)

The real absence, however, was McCarthy's prose. His lean style creates the false impression he is merely describing situations and events which can then be captured on film. But the style itself creates a framework for interpretation.

Once again, a major book but a minor film.

To lack heart

The phrase "one who lacks heart" to describe a class of fool first shows up about two-thirds of the way through the prologue to Proverbs (Proverbs 1-9), and then occasionally through the rest of the book. I find the phrase particularly evocative, if somewhat elusive. It suggests the fool is lacking some essential component of personality, or even humanity. If "heart, soul, strength" refers to the whole person (Deuteronomy 6:5), then the fool, by his wicked choices, has rendered himself incapable of loving the Lord.

Make of that suggestion what you like, but I think you'll agree the expression is challenging and provokes reflection and meditation, as the Proverbs are intended to do. I'm disappointed, then, to turn to the standard English versions and find they choose to translate "one who lacks heart" as "one without understanding." I think that's true, to be sure, but I also think that unnecessarily limits the range of meaning and association possible in the original choice of words.

This is an excellent illustration of my major complaint against paraphrase in Bible translations (especially those claiming to be literal, "essentially" or otherwise). The practice shuts out legitimate interpretive options and deprives the reader of the Scriptures' literary richness.

The NT reads the OT

As I work through the Proverbs, commentators are quick to note that the eschatological expectations of the Jews before the time of Christ are not well understood, and that we ought not read the New Testament expectations of life after death into the Old Testament. Reading Hebrews and 1 Corinthians, however, it seems to me the New Testament reads its expectations of life after death out of the Old Testament.

The End of Materialism

Peter Leithart provides a provocative summary of James Le Fanu's Why Us?: How Science Rediscovered the Mystery of Ourselves over on his blog. Turns out science may not have the answers to all of life's persistent questions.

Agnes has discovered my business plan

Marriage, Morality, and Culture

R.R. Reno has a thoughtful reflection on "Marriage, Morality, and Culture" over at the First Things website. Read the whole thing, and be inspired to do so by his concluding paragraphs:

It is sociologically incoherent to imagine that we can both radically redefine marriage and transfer its “transcendent, cultural, and social significance” to same-sex couples, as if the former does not alter and undermine the later.

We cannot make culture serve our desires—or our ideals for that matter. We cannot turn traditional modes of moral discipline such as marriage into a ready resource for conferring feelings of normalcy or equality. To consciously modify the moral norms of moral institutions such as marriage turns them into something else: existential decoration, imaginary seriousness, or an engineered garment of meaning that cannot help but feel plastic and artificial. A bespoke “transcendent, cultural, and social significance” is ephemeral and short lived.

First thoughts on "Gilead"

Along with the last Batman story ever, I got Gilead for my birthday this year (Ma and Pa Curmudgeon were trying to whittle down my Amazon wish list). I know I'm well behind the curve in reading it, but here I am nonetheless. A few dozen pages in, I very much like it, primarily because the narrator is a pastor who, after many years during which he was perhaps as crabby as I tend to be, is notably content.

It gives me hope.

Don't read "The Road"

Cormac McCarthy's The Road is compelling and transforming. His work may be what Norman Mailer had in mind when he said, "The purpose of a great novel, however, is not to cater to one’s passing needs, but to enter one’s life; even alter it" (at the National Book Awards in 2005; although The Road wasn't published until 2006, so maybe Mailer was thinking of All the Pretty Horses). I continue to wrestle with this prolonged meditation on the requirements of fatherhood.

I should say as well that the book ends, remarkably enough, on a note of hope. But to get there, you have to slog through page after page of unrelenting, unremitting horror, with more scenes than I can count which you will wish you had never read so that those images wouldn't be seared into your head. I'm glad I did, but I can't recommend you do. 

Beaten to the punch again, again

In response to my earlier post commending Frederica Mathewes-Green’s “Let’s Have More Teen Pregancy,” which advocated for earlier marriage and child-bearing than is the norm today in these United States, A. Nonymous commented (in part), “I can agree with most of her statements; however, she doesn't address how to reverse the situation in an increasingly secular culture.”

That’s certainly true, in one sense. In my opinion, though, “practical steps for change” aren’t all that necessary. In a climate such as ours today, Mathewes-Green does a great service by pointing out that the status quo need not be the status quo, that things have been done differently and humanity survived. Simply believing people can marry and have children in their late teens without disaster would be a quite nice start to reversing the present situation.

A question for every father

From The Road, page 196: “Do you think that your fathers are watching? That they weigh you in their ledgerbook? Against what?”

Cormac McCarthy’s answer in the midst of postapocalyptic despair: “There is no book and your fathers are dead in the ground.”

He’s right; it’s a question I keep asking myself. But I’m wrong to strive to measure up to my fathers, since I, rather, am called to imitate Christ. I must fail in their ledgerbook’s accounting, but Christ’s Spirit enables me, by grace, to haltingly imitate his self-sacrifice in the offering up of myself in the service of my fathers’ descendents.

And of course, McCarthy’s answer is wrong (although I suspect he knows that). Romans 8:33-34: “Who shall lay any thing to the charge of God’s elect? It is God that justifieth. Who is he that condemneth? It is Christ that died, yea rather, that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us. ”

On spam filters

I maintain a web-based e-mail address exclusively for our congregation’s website and SermonAudio page in order to protect my main e-mail address from spammers. And in fact, most of what comes to that first address is spam, generated by programs that troll the webernet for e-mail addresses. Accordingly, I set the spam filters pretty high. However, of late I’ve noticed that some legitimate e-mails have been consigned to the spam folder, which has made me wonder whether others haven’t been allowed to make even that cut. Consequently, I’ve had to step down the spam filters a bit so I can still be contacted through our congregation’s websites.

I bring this up because I have a number of friends who are strongly against illegal immigration, but separate that issue from legal immigration. In fact, many believe the federal government should remove the barriers immigrants face to get permanent visas to they can work in the United States. Unfortunately, the two issues cannot be so easily separated.

Illegal immigration is not simply a matter of people coming up through the U.S.-Mexico border without visas. As I understand it, the majority of illegal immigrants in the U.S. entered the country by other means, such as with illegitimate paperwork or by overstaying tourist visas. In order to prevent these forms of illegal immigration, the government must require those applying for visas to prove they have income or legitimate employment or will not bring over their families but return to their home country after they’ve completed their studies.

That is, the policy goal of clamping down on illegal immigration inevitably leads to turning away citizens of other nations whose intentions are entirely pure and are attempting to stay in our country legally. If we want people to be able to immigrate to the United States more easily, we will have to accept a certain level of illegal immigration.

First thoughts on "The Road"

I’ve been avoiding The Road pretty much since it was first published. Although a great admirer of Cormac McCarthy, as the father of two small boys I thought a novel about a man and his young son wandering a postapocalyptic landscape would tap directly into the “wake up screaming” center of my cerebral cortex. But a few months ago a friend insisted I borrow his copy, and after getting through the stack of comic books and the-American-Republic-is-long-gone-and-never-coming-back literature on my nightstand, I started reading it. 87 pages in, I have this to say:

1) Boy oh boy, can Cormac McCarthy write. His prose is spare, but florid; the best description I’ve ever heard of it is “like Ernest Hemingway and William Faulkner, but at the same time.” From a lesser writer, his style would be ridiculous; but McCarthy is our great American master, and every word is carefully considered, serving a purpose (and sometimes I think that purpose is to build my vocabulary). I’m compelled as much by how he writes as with the story he’s writing. However, while I can live without quotation marks (the American literati’s union has apparently forbidden their use), I always find the absence of apostrophes jarring (although a few seem to have sneaked in past the proofreader).

2) My fears about reading this book were dead on. This story is every father’s worst nightmare; that plus McCarthy’s gripping prose adds up to a reading experience not unlike waking up from a bad dream and then trying to fall back asleep in order to continue it.

3) McCarthy has this much right: the essence of true manhood is being a husband and father, and the essence of those roles is a willingness to kill, but more centrally to die, for one’s family.

The real problem with praise music

I listened to a wide-ranging interview with D.G. Hart conducted by Mark Dever of Capitol Hill Baptist Church while translating Proverbs 7 this afternoon. Hart made the observation that his real objection to praise music is not so much the songs themselves as the liturgies in which they are imbedded; that is, most would be pretty much okay in the context of a traditional Protestant service, serving particular functions and alternating with Scripture readings, offerings, confessions, and so forth. Instead, (and this is just me talking) they usually are found in evangelical services whose "liturgies" consist of about a half hour of music followed by an inspirational lecture.

In other words, modern worship music is about as bad and as good as worship music has ever been at any given point in Church history. Protestant liturgy, however, is at perhaps its lowest point since preachers abandoned Latin in the pulpits.

The Lord's soul

The Hebrew text of Proverbs 6:16 is quite clear: there are seven things which are abominations to the Lord's soul. The text is not in dispute: there are no other manuscripts with variant readings, nor is there any tradition of reading the Hebrew text in a different way. However, every English version I've consulted, including the "allegedly literal" ones, read that they are abominations "to Him."

Why? Is there some theological nicety here I'm just too dumb to grasp? Or is this another case of "the KJV guys did it that way, so we will too"?

Once again, unable to entertain the possibility of an upside

On the one hand, I'm glad to hear Biblica (formerly the International Bible Society) plans to let Today's New International Version quietly slip into oblivion. On the other, I can't help but suspect its concomitant decision to revise the New International Version means the TNIV's crimes against established translation practice and English grammar will continue to be perpetuated under a different label.

Beaten to the punch again

As I'm preaching through both Proverbs and 1 Corinthians, sexual sin and how to encourage Godly sexuality has been much on my mind. In her essay "Let's Have More Teen Pregnancy," posted on Beliefnet, Frederica Mathewes-Green makes many of the common-sense arguments for early marriage which have been rattling around in my head.

There are too many choice bits to warrant quoting here what would turn out to be the essay's bulk. Just click and read.

Politically, curmudgeonly

My Political Views
I am a right social moderate
Right: 5.05, Libertarian: 0.8

Political Spectrum Quiz

Relieved and concerned

As a semi-regular bicycle commuter, I'm relieved that a new bike safety law, which went into effect today, makes it illegal to throw an object at a cyclist from a passing car. At the same time, I'm a tad concerned to learn that until now, attempted assault or manslaughter was perfectly legal so long as the intended victim was a cyclist.

Diana Krall vindicates the Presbyterian Curmudgeon

In an interview with NPR this morning, Diana Krall said, "If I had my choice now, I'd sing 'Girl from Ipanema,'" thereby confirming my sound judgment.

An Almost-Chosen People

To Mrs. Curmudgeon's bemusement, I am an obsessive listener of the EconTalk podcast, and have picked up the phrase "deep insight" from host Russ Roberts. Paul Johnson's lecture "An Almost-Chosen People," published in the June/July 2006 issue of First Things, is littered with them. Just one paragraph (get ye and read the rest):

"Since religious establishments were popular rather than hieratic, a distinctive American religious tradition began to emerge. There was never any sense of division in law between laity and clergy, between those with spiritual privileges and those without—no jealous confrontation between a secular and an ecclesiastical world. America was born Protestant and did not have to become so through revolt and struggle. It was not built on the remains of a Catholic Church or an establishment; it had no clericalism or anticlericalism. In all these respects it differed profoundly from the old world, which had been shaped by Augustinian principles and violent reaction to them. The word secular never had the same significance in America as in Europe because the word clerical had never conveyed an image of intolerance and privilege. America had a traditionless tradition, making a fresh start with a set of Protestant assumptions, taken for granted, self-evident, as the basis for a common national creed."

A Perverted Sacrament

"For they eat the bread of wickedness,
and drink the wine of violence." - Proverbs 4:17

Strictly applied, the canons of grammatical-historical exegesis forbid us to find in Proverbs 4:17 any allusion to the Lord's Supper because the original writer and readers could not have found it. However, we ought also read all of Scripture as part of the Christian canon and, because of the Bible's unitary Spiritual authorship, can find intertextual references which look forward as well as back.

Proverbs 4:17, then, describes a perverted sacrament. The wicked's religion is not faith in the Cross and does not include the faith-filled act of receiving and participating in the benefits of Christ's death and resurrection. Instead, their religion is worship of self, to whom they sacrifice the lives (literally and figuratively) of those around them.

The righteous receive the blood of Christ by faith and through the Spirit. The wicked shed the blood of others and would, if they could, crucify the Lord of glory.

Up

In one of his magazines or comic books, Thing One discovered a flyer from the Cartoon Network a couple months ago. It advertised a contest in which one of the top prizes was a toy lightsaber. Very excited (my brother-in-law bequeathed the curmudgelings his old Xbox, and "Star Wars Lego" has been their favorite), he asked me to enter him in the online drawing. I warned him he ought not expect to win anything, but he was nonetheless determined not to miss out on this opportunity. So I entered him for the inevitable disappointment, figuring this would be a chance to learn a Very Important Life Lesson.

You can see where this is going.

While he didn't win a lightsaber, he did get a free ticket to the movie of his choice. Said choice being Pixar's Up, I took him to see it yesterday afternoon. For what it's worth, this may be Pixar's best to date. While the computer animation is of course state-of-the-art, what continues to impress me about the studio's work is that it would be equally good using the old hand-drawn method. These films are memorable because they stick to what works: visual humor, solid plots, and excellent character development. They produce films of consistently high quality which are more remarkable for their humanity than for any computer-generated wowie factor.

In this case, Up is primarily a sustained meditation on the obligatory nature of family relationships in general and the nature and significance of marriage in particular. Its message is simply and eloquently stated: it matters less what we do than with whom and for whom we do it.

Up's run is coming to its end, and you should be able to find it at the dollar theatres soon (I think any movie is better seen at a theatre than on a TV of any size). The Disney marketing machine hardly needs my help, but here it is anyway: go see Up. Tell them the Curmudgeon sent you.

Common grace & the common curse

A lovely quote from Ken Myers, in an interview in the online edition of the PCA magazine byFaith: "Well, I don’t think everything that happens is evidence of common grace. I have a high view of the common curse, too."

Separation & Inspiration

"After three months we put out to sea in a ship that had wintered in the island. It was an Alexandrian ship with the figurehead of the twin gods Castor and Pollux." (Acts 28:11)

A philosophy known as "separation" is prevalent in certain fundamentalist circles. The idea is that the Christian must entirely separate himself from all sin and false worship. For example, not only ought one not attend the Roman Catholic mass, one ought have no Roman Catholic friends. The truly committed separated brethren will go the next step and refuse to associate with fellow fundamentalists who have failed to similarly separate themselves from Roman Catholicism.

Against all this stands Acts 28:11. When Paul's company left Malta, they did so in a ship whose figurehead represented religious worship and trust in Castor and Pollux, Greek gods who were thought to protect sailors. I think we can take for granted that the Apostle to the Gentiles did not share their idolatrous beliefs; nonetheless, he was willing to sail in a ship given over to idolatry.

Too bad Paul didn't have the advantage of sitting under fundamentalist teaching before he took up his missionary work.

Live in Australia, 1959

In my iTunes library, Frank Sinatra albums are usually grouped in the "pop" genre, but Live in Australia, 1959, from a tour with the Red Norvo Quintet, is definitely in the "jazz" category. This is due in large part to a genuine collaboration with Red Norvo, one of the preeminent vibraphonists and bandleaders of his day. Sinatra is remarkably free not only with lyrics, but phrasing and timing as well.

This album has been perhaps overhyped: in my not-so-humble opinion, the performances are mostly perfunctory until "I've Got You Under My Skin," when the energy levels shoot way up. From then on out, Sinatra and the band are swinging. It's a classic, and a delight.

How to make marriage matter again

Ummm... Stop committing adultery?

The Person from Ipanema

I first heard "The Boy from Ipanema" on the Red Hot + Rio album, as sung by Crystal Waters. It struck me then, as now, as a modestly enjoyable quasi-techno experiment. The original version, "The Girl from Ipanema," a cool jazz meets bossa nova triumph, featured ethereal female vocals by Astrud Gilberto and an otherworldly sax solo by Stan Getz. A worldwide hit, it is beyond compare. As no cover version could possibly come near it for absolute perfection, it would be churlish to point out any failings (and while I am a curmudgeon, I'm no churl).

But now Diana Krall has released her own "The Boy from Ipanema" (I have ended up with five versions of this song on my iPod, all of which I've carefully considered whilst writing this post), and the time has come for me to register my objection. Yes, even to Ella Fitzgerald's rendering. The problem is not with the performances, but the lyrics.

The narrative of "the X from Ipanema" concerns a person admiring from a distance, with romantic longing of course, a person of the opposite sex walking along the Brazilian beachfront. In "The Girl," the singer describes a young man's longing in the third person. When Astrud Gilberto sings it, the tantalizing possibility emerges that she is the girl and in fact does notice her young male admirer; perhaps she is not oblivious to his affections after all.

But in "The Boy," the singer describes her own longing in the first person. All of a sudden, this lovely piece of gossamer turns into an overly intimate confessional. At the same time, the object of her affections becomes that much more distant: there is no hope whatsoever the singer's love will be reciprocated. The song is no longer romantic, just sad and, frankly, borderline depressing.

The irony, of course, is that the gender-switching of the "The Boy" version is completely unnecessary; need a point out that Astrud Gilberto was a woman? Henceforth, if the lady singers wish to take a crack at this classic, by all means have at it. But let it be "The Girl from Ipanema," and never again "The Boy."

And that's right, I really don't have anything better to think about.

Why I'm Annoyed by the Vision Forum

From their website: "Our name — The Vision Forum — points to our desire that the Lord would use this work to be a forum for communicating a vision of victory to Christian families." First of all, what's with the dashes? The humble comma would just as effectively set off "The Vision Forum" in that sentence, without all the flash and also without raising the suspicion Mr. Phillips might not know as much about punctuation as all the homeschooling propaganda would lead one to believe.

More substantively, I'm seriously concerned about the nature of the victory the Vision Forum (no, I'm not going to capitalize "the") has in mind. Victory over sin would be a good thing, of course, but flipping through their catalog, the emphasis seems to be on victory over the society and culture around us. And the way to beat the snot out of said society is to turn one's children into culture warriors through the judicious purchase and implementation of the wares hawked by the Vision Forum.

And what a great number of wares there are: 113 pages worth in the 2009 catalog. An awful lot of stuff for those who claim to be pursuing an agenda at odds with that of the world.

Only I'm not persuaded that's the case, not by a long shot. Take this sentence from the blurb for the DVD The Return of the Daughters: "This highly-controversial [again with the misused dash, hypenating what ought never be hyphenated!] documentary will take viewers into the homes of several young women who have dared to defy today's anti-family culture in pursuit of a biblical approach to daughterhood, using their in-between years to pioneer a new culture of strength and dignity and to rebuild Western Civilization, starting with the culture of the home." Let's just a take a moment to reflect on the self-congratulatory air in this ad copy (which, I admit, is a particularly egregious example, but not an uncommon representation of Vision Forum fare). Have enough people even noticed this documentary exists in order to controvert it? If that weren't enough of an overly grand sense of oneself, they're rebuilding Western Civilization.

So much for living quietly, minding one's own affairs (1 Thessalonians 4:11).

This is precisely where the presence of the Vision Forum catalog in Christian homes begins giving me, as a pastor, heartburn. There's something unnervingly worldly about the Vision Forum's anti-world vision. Again and again, one gets the impression each Christian family should be building a legacy which will endure for generations to come; not only that, they should be actively engaged in transforming the culture and reshaping it according to their liking. In other words, they are about building a name and a city for themselves and claiming a country in this world, during this age: a country which they hope, and even believe, will endure.

But this present age is passing away.

And as for me and my house, we are also seeking a country of our own, but not that country from which we came out. Rather, we desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore we are not ashamed of the Cross of Christ; for the God who became despised and nothing has called us to be likewise despised and nothing. He has invited us to live as aliens and strangers in this world. He has not invited us to build a city here because he has prepared a city for us.

But I don't suppose I'll sell much merchandise with that vision.

More on Animus Imponentis (or "It's My Blog and I'm Not [Necessarily] Here to Entertain You")

Since my last post on this topic, the Presbytery of Northern California and Nevada has posted another mp3 of their "debriefing," a discussion of their Animus Imponentis conference. There were some very interesting observations aired. Upon listening, some suspicions I've had have been confirmed.

For one, discussion of animus imponentis becomes very quickly a substitute debate over the days of creation. That is, because "animus imponentis" is so frequently invoked by those arguing for something other than 6 days of ordinary length, the two matters become quickly linked and then confused. This is highly unfortunate, since the Confessions address a much larger set of doctrines, and we ought reflect on how we interpret everything they address. For those who hold to the "6 24-hour days" view, there seems a sneaking suspicion that "animus imponentis" is invoked almost entirely to avoid a debate on the substantive question.

Not unrelated are (below the surface) questions of power. To digress a bit, it's long seemed to me that elders in the OPC fall into two basic categories: those who expect to be at General Assembly pretty much every year, and those who do not. Those in the former category have, practically speaking, far greater power and influence than those in the latter. They may not see themselves as privileged in this manner, but that can make matters worse. To return to the subject at hand, the former seem to believe (broadly speaking) that the endorsement of a report on the days of creation by a single GA has settled the matter once and for all. The latter, especially those among the latter unhappy with said report, don't have the same confidence their views have been adequately heard and may not be easily persuaded the matter has been settled. While attendance at our General Assemblies has long been numerically capped, we ought not forget that, properly speaking, every elder (teaching and ruling) is an equal to the other. When those not in attendance at Assemblies get the feeling their rights are being ignored, aggrieved sensibilities are likely to ensue.

Along the same lines, those comfortable with the status quo can easily fall into the habit of speaking of the "animus imponentis of the OPC" as though this were a final and settled matter. As John Muether noted in one of his lectures, the OPC has moved from a vague tolerance of some varieties of evolutionary theory amongst her officers to an absolute intolerance. We can and should discuss what our shared confessional interpretations have been and are. Such, however, is the beginning of doctrinal debate, not its end.

In connection with this, a brief paper by the Rev. Bob Needham made a very telling point. In my own words, he observed that tolerance of anti-confessional views in the past could be read not as a revealing of the Church's views, but as a sin of omission. Thus, one ought not argue "the animus imponentis is to tolerate anti-confessional position X."

I've said it before, and I'll no doubt say it again. So long as we refuse to amend, revise, or add to our Confessional Standards, we will argue over whether we should really believe what they say. That argument continues to strike me as silly and fruitless, while a debate as to what is and is not an essential doctrine would be anything but.

Makin' purtier links

I have a friend who's a missionary in South Africa who sent me an e-mail yesterday with several suggestions as to how I might make the links in my posts shorter.

Did you get that? A MISSIONARY found my posts so cluttered he had to take the time to intervene. (Graciously, of course.) When I came home and reported this to Mrs. Curmudgeon, she agreed that, indeed, my blog looks a mess.

How long have you people been talking about this behind my metaphorical back? And you let a missionary do your dirty work? Seriously.

Turns out blogspot has had a tool in the menu bar for turning words and phrases into hyperlinks all along, and I've now learned to use it.

Everybody happy?

Picking on the Vision Forum

I just read a review essay, "Hold the Granola" by Gilbert Meilaender, on Rod Dreher's book Crunchy Cons in the May 2006 issue of First Things. (Oh, like you're current on your reading.) I've been working on a lengthy rant on the Vision Forum off and on (mostly in my head) for a while now, but it seems Meilaender was able to get to the heart of the matter before me (and more wittily). Go scrounge up a copy of the Vision Forum catalog, then consider the appropriateness of these observations, although originally on Dreher's "crunchy cons:"

"Child-rearing is not pottery or sculpture; the materials in our hands turn out to have ideas of their own. Most of what we know about the task we learn only too late, after our mistakes have been made. Rather than a mission of rearing countercultural children, we have the task of doing the best we can, in love, to set our children on the way in life. We teach them how to behave, we try to set them on the right path and shape their character properly, but we don't own their souls. They must for a time obey us, but they don't have to share all our likes and dislikes."

"...[G]enuine nurture recognizes that we must, in various ways, hand our children over to others as well. We do not possess them. Indeed, at moments I found myself wondering whether crunchy cons, in their zeal to turn against an obsession with “things,” were not in danger of filling that need for things with children. And I shudder to learn of the children reared by crunchy cons that 'these kids are going to be rebels with a cause' when they grow up. We may all hope to bring up children with character sufficient to resist whatever is genuinely evil (and character wise enough not to brand as evil what is simply not to their liking), but to delight in rearing little rebels, who will likely think they know far more than they do, does not strike me as a helpful way to face the future."

"....To bring that child to baptism is to hand him over to God, who must be the guarantor of his existence, and to the church, which must accept responsibility for him. There is something stiflingly possessive in this account of the parent-child bond. It is, no doubt, understandable — even admirable — in a world where so many children are left simply to fend for themselves, but it sometimes strikes a disturbing note."

Decoding My Mood: Curmudgeonly

The June 15 issue of Time has an essay by Robert Wright, "Decoding God's Changing Moods," (http://tinyurl.com/pxjsu6) in which he suggests a way forward for Muslims, Jews, and Christians who just want to get along. He argues the scriptures of Islam, Judaism, and Christianity contain a "code" which shows that advantages can be gained from tolerating, and even endorsing, other religions.

As a professional reader of the Bible, I would have been surprised by the notion that the Old Testament looks favorably upon other gods and religions were I not already far more well-versed than any rational person would care to be in the "higher criticism" in which "scholars" such as Wright engage. Without a shred of evidence, he deconstructs the Biblical text ("The Bible had the logic backward."), assigns it different and mythical authors, and argues its monotheism is only apparent (really, the prophets were preaching "monolatry"). It was nice, for once, to see the same nonsense applied to the Koran as well: any religion can be victimized by this fiddle-faddle.

In fact, this opens the possibility of real unity between Jews, Christians and Muslims: sharing an extreme annoyance at people like Robert Wright who treat our scriptures like jigsaw puzzles and lecture us on how we can become better practitioners of our religions by ignoring all their foundational tenets.

Animus Imponentis

Earlier this year, the OPC's Presbytery of Northern California and Nevada held a conference on the nature of the animus imponentis in the OPC. "Animus imponentis" means (roughly) "the will of the imposing body," and refers to what the OPC, as a denomination, understands the Westminster Standards to mean, and what is then expected of the officers who subscribe to those standards as their confession of faith. As several of the speakers pointed out, animus imponentis is an important and necessary concept, as Church officers ought not be putting their own private meanings on the language of the confessions, and as these confessions are supposed to unite, not divide, us. (You can download the various sessions at http://pncnopc.org/index.php?option=com_sermonspeaker&task=singleseries&id=10004&Itemid=100008.)

I'm grateful to this presbytery for organizing the conference and making it, via the miracle of mp3, available to the broader Church. Overall, I found the various lectures thoughtful and informative, and quite helpful in developing further my own understanding of what it means to subscribe to confessional standards. One overarching weakness, however, was that the conference was very much geared to Church officers and their particular concerns as persons who must subscribe to the Westminster Standards and also approve candidates for Church office. Neglected, in my opinion, was the relationship of the average Church member to our confessions, and how the animus imponentis of the OPC affects that. Consequently, I'd like to see further discussion of at least these three areas.


1) Animus in relationship to Confessions as teaching documents

Like many presbyterian pastors, I’ve told people the advantage of confessionalism is that the prospective member knows what he’s getting into; that is, all that which we consider essential to the faith is clearly written down. But if the animus imponentis is somewhat at variance with the plain meaning of the confessional text (as the animus imponentis of the OPC is to accept "historic premillenialism" while Larger Catechism 87 and 90 seem to exclude it), then it seems to me we cannot honestly say our confessions state what we consider to be essential doctrines of the faith.
This point is related to the use of confessional standards as teaching documents. Again, if the animus imponentis is at variance with the wording of the standards, then it seems to me the standards cannot reliably be used to teach the people our faith, at least not without the caveats of an instructor. In that case, then, the oral tradition imparted by the instructor takes priority over the standards themselves, for the standards are nothing more than the words which comprise their text.


2) Animus vs. confessional revision

Where animus imponentis becomes most controversial is when it is in conflict with what seems to be the plain meaning of the confessional texts. Would it not be simpler to revise the confessions so that their wording is in line with the animus of the OPC? (No one is allowed to answer with “This is not a confession-writing age,” as that merely begs the question.)


3) Animus and Church power

Here I am not thinking of Church power as it is technically defined in our Book of Church Order; rather, I am thinking of the perspective often held by congregants that teaching elders hold all the power in the Church. The notion of animus imponentis (again, most especially when the animus is at variance with confessional language) can give the impression that while we claim our doctrines are found in the confessions, what we actually believe and teach is under the control of presbyters who are not bound by what has been written. This is perhaps an extreme response, but one to which we as wielders of Church power ought be sensitive.

Trust the Lord

From Bruce Waltke's commentary on Proverbs: "...Solomon calls on the son to trust the LORD, not his sayings per se, because his sayings are only as good as the LORD who revealed them and who inspired him."

Lord of the wing

Hebrew Biblical poetry is most notable for its (sometimes brutal) economy: the ideal verse has only six words, three for each line. Why, then, does Proverbs 1:17 refer to the "lord of the wing" (two words in Hebrew) rather than the "bird" (one word, which would have kept the line at three words)?

I could spin a couple theories, but I don't know. On the other hand, I do know this is how poetry works in general: work within established rules so they can be broken for effect.

Leithart on the call to worship

Stop what you're doing and read this post from Peter Leithart: http://www.leithart.com/2009/06/07/exhortation-40/#more-5957.

I have blogger envy.

Skeptical of the Vision Forum

For the uninitiated, the Vision Forum is an organization much-beloved by a certain segment of the home-schooling community, particularly those interested in a reformed soteriology but not a presbyterian ecclesiology. Or much of an ecclesiology at all, as, so far as I can tell, there seems an unarticulated but clearly evident conviction that the nuclear family is pretty much all- and self-sufficient, so long as the father is willing to act all patriarchal and the womenfolk wear long dresses.

I mention the latter because this, according to the pictures in the the catalog I did not ask them to send me, is the standard dress code for the fairer sex. I should mention that the blurb for a DVD on "Biblical Femininity" (only $15!) clearly states "It doesn't matter how 'girly' a girl's clothes are...." But if that's the case, then how come all the girls in said catalog are dressed more girly than the average American Girl doll?

Methinks they dost protest too much: one rather gets the impression that purchasing the sufficient number of items from the Vision Forum catalog, and, of course, dressing appropriately, is all one's family needs to do to realize the vision of reforming and reviving the American family through the wonder of one-stop shopping.

All Richard Thompson, all the time

After Richard and Linda Thompson divorced (because Richard, the scumbag, cheated on her with, I believe, a backup singer), and then Linda Thompson lost her singing voice due to some bizarre psychosomatic thingy, Richard Thompson continued recording solo. In my opinion, these performances, while solid, lack the urgency and clarity of his work with his former wife. (I suppose that's not unlike what some people think of Paul Simon's post-Garfunkel work, but of course that's just baby-boomer "everything was better when I was young" whining, since Graceland, to give just one example, is stunningly brilliant. But I digress.)

That's why it's worth buying, and playing over and over again, the Richard Thompson tribute album, Beat the Retreat. There's not an off performance on the whole disc, largely due to his insightful and well-crafted song-writing. R.E.M.'s cover of "The Wall of Death" is compelling, and Shawn Colvin and Loudon Wainwright III's duet on "A Heart Needs a Home" is just lovely.

Which is not to say that Richard Thompson is not capable of delivering a song well all on his lonesome. His project 1000 Years of Popular Music is interesting for the amateur musicologist amongst us (and hey, who isn't looking for a recent recording of "Sumer Is Incumen In"?), but my favorite moment is his rendition of "Oops, I Did It Again." Believe it or not, he not only redeems this song, he demonstrated it has depths unknown by Miss Spears herself. It changed my life.

For real.

I coach high school football in west Texas

I love Texas, and I love football, but neither of those is why I love Friday Night Lights. More than any other character on television, I relate to Eric Taylor, coach of the mythical Dillon Panthers. The man's career depends almost entirely on factors completely out of his control, but he works under the intense scrutiny of a public which holds him solely accountable for his team's weal or woe. Especially good is his relationship with his wife, Tami, who out of necessity is the only person in his life who understands what it's like to hold his job, and at the same time keeps him grounded in home and family. Their entire relationship is revealed in between the lines, when the camera lingers on their faces a few seconds longer than in most shows. That's where you find the reality of almost all marriages.

The football part is fun, but what makes this show work is the characters. Season one was just about perfect, although the Panthers went through more trauma in a given episode than most high schools experience in a decade. With season two, I was afraid the show had jumped the shark: the writers tried way too many story lines, each with ridiculously high stakes, and just when everything was at the point of maximum chaos, the writers' strike left everything hanging. Season three just came out on DVD, and so far (two episodes), so good. Lord willing, the writers will keep the plot under control and let the characters continue to develop realistically. That's what keeps me and Mrs. Curmudgeon watching, and the critics seem to agree.

Although sometimes I wonder how many of those critics realize producer Peter Berg intended the whole thing as a metaphor for the professional life of the pastor of a small presbyterian congregation. But no, that's just too obvious.

I Want to See the Bright Lights Tonight

Today I added "I Want to See the Bright Lights Tonight" to my iTunes library. Richard Thompson has written any number of great songs, but this album is, in my not-so-humble opinion, his one true and unquestionable masterpiece. Each song is an unflinching look at the brutality of human experience in a world without hope or the possibility of redemption; the lyrics are matched with hauntingly appropriate tunes made all the more piercing by Linda Thompson's lovely voice.


Nihilism is no game, Quentin Tarantino's attempts to cutify it notwithstanding. Thompson does not invite us to envy the hopeless, but to empathetically enter into their despair. In this way, like the late Kurt Vonnegut, he is a humanist nihilist. This album from over thirty years ago (1974) has by itself made me pay careful attention to everything else Richard Thompson has released, which exercise has also brought great rewards.

Takeover

A peculiar quirk of having grown up overseas and gone to international schools was not taking any U.S. history or civics classes until late in my high school career. The whole thing hit me like a ton of bricks. I was enchanted with the Bill of Rights, the separation of powers between the three branches of the federal government, and the sheer boldness of the Declaration of Independence. I never really got over it, and continue to be unable to indulge the sort of cynicism which passes for political common sense these days. I actually really, really believe the self-evident fact that all men are created equal and that the government should make no law restricting free speech, and that government agencies keeping secrets from the people and their elected representatives is a tremendously bad idea.

That all being the case, I tend to spend most election cycles (which apparently is ALL THE TIME these days) muttering about how I'd be glad to vote for any candidate who makes restoring the Republic the main plank of his platform. In the past I was being, at least a bit, hyperbolic, but now I'm sure the Republic is long, long gone. In Takeover: The Return of the Imperial Presidency and the Subversion of American Democracy, Charlie Savage documents how the Bush/Cheney administration took every single opportunity to expand executive power on the basis of contrived legal theories with no grounding in the Constitution's text or jurisprudential precedent. The imperial presidency, as Savage notes, was evolving for most of the twentieth century, but the last administration consolidated the movement and institutionalized its most egregious forms.

We have come to the point that most Americans honestly expect the president to exercise absolute, unchecked power: remember how Fred Thompson (who, I can't believe it, was actually a U.S. Senator) during his brief presidential campaign said that, were he elected, he would personally suspend all imports from China until their safety could be verified. And as Savage also notes, the imperial presidency is not a liberal or conservative phenomenon; presidents of all political stripes like being able to impose their will, unchecked by those other two branches of the federal government.

As Nat Hentoff, hero of the Republic, is recording (http://www.cato.org/people/nat-hentoff), Dear Leader offers no hope for those of us looking for the restoration of the rule of law. A liberal emperor is an emperor still.

Why Paul could work as a tent-maker

James Jordan makes some interesting observations on the need for reflection in pastoral ministry over at the Biblical Horizons blog: http://biblicalhorizons.wordpress.com/2009/05/16/the-pastoral-function/.

I Was, Once More, Superman

(Other than the John Byrne revival, I never found Superman interesting enough to read any comic featuring him on a regular basis. In fact, I suspect the amount of space given to Superman over Batman is, in large part, what made Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Strikes Again such a disappointment. Nonetheless, something fascinates and draws me to Superman. This poem by Jack Butler, published in the March 2006 issue of First Things, gets it just about perfectly.)

I was, once more, Superman
in my dreams
last night, torching a section of steel plate loose
with X-ray vision, swigging like orange juice
a gallon of explosive oil. Such themes,
a half-century past childhood!–So fast I blurred
invisible, so nimble I pirouetted
with atoms, so powerful my passage shredded
the air like thunder when I stopped or stirred.

And yes, I flew. Lifted my arms and flew.
Swooped and zoomed and shrank the world to a map.
Flying's the greatest happiness of sleep.

I woke to find myself still me, and you
still you of course, still angry from our fight,
and all this Earth a vale of kryptonite.

Cutting the Romans 7 knot

Romans 7 is something of an exegetical Gordian knot. Any number of exegetes argue, by very sound methodology, that Paul is describing his pre-Christian experience under the Law of God of failing to effectively put sin to death. This interpretation is frequently rejected by Christians because Paul's description of his struggle with sin resonates so well with their own experience. The knot: how can an existential description of an unbeliever be applied to a believer?

In a recent post on his blog (http://www.leithart.com/2009/05/11/doing-what-i-do-not-wish/), Peter Leithart suggests Romans 7 may resonate so well with Christians because their Churches have succumbed to a practical legalism, giving priority to Law over the Gospel.

By this my Father is glorified

For a number of years, I've been bothered by a strain in Puritan and Reformed thinking (which probably doesn't quite rise to the level of a "school of thought") which argues God is glorified to an equal extent in both reprobation (passing some people over unto their damnation for their sins) and election (choosing some for salvation in Christ). While I grant God is glorified both by making and executing all his decrees, it seems to me the overwhelming testimony of Scripture is that he is much more interested in the glory gained by displaying his grace to sinners.

I bring this up because I've been working on John 15:1-8, in which the topics of reprobation (15:2, 6) and preservation of the elect (15:2-5, 7) are dealt with together. If these two matters were of equal value to God, this would be an excellent place to make that note. Instead, Jesus particularly emphasizes that the Father is glorified when his people persevere in grace and obedience (15:8).

As Paul argues, "What if God, desiring to show his wrath and to make known his power, has endured with much patience vessels of wrath prepared for destruction, in order to make known the riches of his glory for vessels of mercy which he has prepared beforehand for glory– even us whom he has called, not from the Jews only but also from the Gentiles?" (Roman 9:22-24)

John Yoo may be disbarred

Every once in a while, God allows me a glimmer of hope that the rule of law, and perhaps even the Republic itself, may be restored to our long-benighted shores: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=103825801.

TV & the Cross

How do I know parenting requires death to self? Because tonight, while Mrs. Curmudgeon was at a Bible study, I tried to watch Lost, but Thing Two insisted on yelling, running around, and breaking the blinds while he was supposed to be asleep. And what I was thinking, of course, was "Can't I catch a break? Can't I have a moment for myself, to do what I want to do?"

No, of course.

That's how I know.

Demographics & Depression

If this pastor gig doesn't work out, my backup plan is to move back to Virginia and pursue graduate studies in economics at George Mason University. With economics suddenly becoming a very timely and interesting subject, I listen avidly to the EconTalk and Planet Money podcasts. I've thus heard any number of theories and explanations for the present financial unpleasantness, but none so idiosyncratic or compelling as this from David P. Goldman (until recently, the pseudonymous "Spengler" of the Asia Times):

"Credit markets derive from the cycle of human life. Young people need to borrow capital to start families and businesses; old people need to earn income on the capital they have saved. We invest our retirement savings in the formation of new households. All the armamentarium of modern capital markets boils down to investing in a new generation so that they will provide for us when we are old." He goes on to argue that the demographic decline of young two-parent families in Europe and America has resulted in a concomitant decline of credit markets which, in turn, can only be reversed by an increase in young families.

You can read "Demographics & Depression" in its entirety in the May 2009 issue of First Things, available on better newsstands everywhere.

(Are there any newsstands outside of Manhattan and downtown Chicago anymore?)

More on Presbyterian vows

Anonymous, the most frequent commentator to this blog, asked in response to The Obligations of Presbyterian Membership Vows, "Do you believe that this application would hold true for deacons and elders as well? Or do you feel that they might have a different standard to meet?"

Church officers (and here I include pastors along with elders and deacons) do not have so much a different standard as a different set of obligations. One could enumerate these in any number of ways, but I'm going to cover them under two points.

1) Church officers must remember they are stewards of Spiritual gifts, and have been called by the Spirit to exercise them within a particular congregation. They should ask themselves whether their congregation would be harmed by deprivation of their Spiritual gifts should they go elsewhere, and, at the same time, whether the new congregation would benefit from those gifts. At the same time, no man should think himself so indispensable that the Holy Spirit cannot raise up another to "fill his slot" within a particular congregation. (Pastors, I've observed, are particularly prone to this delusion!)

2) Church officers must remember they are models of Christian conduct and, very often, are fondly regarded as fathers in the faith. Any move out of the congregation in which they serve ought be done so as to preserve relationships on good terms and to show others how they ought to behave.

The Obligations of Presbyterian Membership Vows

I am occasionally asked what constitute Biblical reasons for leaving a particular Church. (I am not here considering occasions such as moving to another state; rather, moving from one congregation to another without moving house.) I think this question wrongly prejudices the matter: it implies only a reason which is clearly grounded in Scripture is sufficiently weighty to leave one congregation for another. This is not the case. Under the general provisions of God’s Word, one’s membership vows create the guidelines for deciding when one should leave one’s Church.

Consider: how does one become a communicant member of an Orthodox Presbyterian (or any other kind of presbyterian) congregation? By being examined by a session which, upon deciding one has a credible profession of faith in Christ, gives one permission to take membership vows in a worship service. Until those vows are taken, one is not a communicant member; after taking them, one is. I’m belaboring this fairly obvious point because it demonstrates how these vows regulate and control one’s membership in the Orthodox Presbyterian Church. So what do those vows require of the person who might wish to leave his present congregation for another?

First, we should note our Confession of Faith has a chapter (22, which you can find online, with Scripture proofs, at http://www.opc.org/confessions.html) on oaths and vows. It’s worth your while to read the whole thing; in my opinion, its most pertinent sentence for the concerns of this essay is “[A vow] is to be taken in the plain and common sense of the words, without equivocation, or mental reservation.” In other words, when you take a vow, you are obligated to do what you vowed to do, no less and no more. So what is the presbyterian obligated to do when dissatisfied with his local Church?

Of the four OPC membership vows, the only one which directly governs one’s membership in a local congregation is the fourth: “Do you agree to submit in the Lord to the government of this church and, in case you should be found delinquent in doctrine or life, to heed its discipline?” (OPC Book of Discipline V,5) This vow obligates you to deal with any concerns you might have regarding your congregation in submission to the government of the OPC. So if you’re unhappy in your local congregation, you should make this known to your elders, and listen respectfully to any advice they might have for you. If you believe there is sin in your local congregation, you should seek to deal with that sin as our Lord commands in Matthew 18:15-20 and as outlined in the OPC’s Book of Discipline.

However, you ARE NOT obligated to remain a member of that particular congregation. I have heard some suggest Church membership is like marriage: that is, one may not leave a particular congregation unless there is unrepentant sin on the part of the session, much as one may not divorce one’s spouse unless he or she is guilty of the sin of adultery or desertion. This is simply incorrect. Marriage vows include the phrase “until death do us part.” There is absolutely nothing like this in one’s Church membership vows.

Here, one might object that Scripture teaches marriage is a permanent union, unbreakable except for adultery (Matthew 19:1-9): that is, marriage’s permanency is controlled by more than its vows. Fair enough, but can the same be said for Church membership? The Scriptures require submission to one’s elders (Hebrews 13:7-17), but they never describe membership in a particular congregation as being anything like as permanent as a marriage. Every Christian is obligated to be a member of a particular Church, but as long as one moves from one congregation to another in a way which honors the elders’ authority, one is not obligated to remain a member of a particular congregation.

What, then, constitute reasons sufficient to leave one local congregation for another? This is not a matter of law, but of wisdom. May a family leave their OPC congregation for a nearby PCA which has a youth group for their children? If that family thinks this sufficiently important, nothing in their membership vows prevents them from doing this. Again, they should discuss their concerns with their elders and respect their advice; but if the family continues to believe this move would be for their Spiritual good, I can see no reason, in principle, they may not.

On the one hand, I am greatly encouraged to see people take their Church membership seriously enough to be willing to put up with difficulties and disappointments; far too many Christians hop from congregation to congregation, utterly indifferent to their Biblical obligation to be committed to a local Church body. I have seen any number of presbyterian Church members decide they’re unhappy, never bring their concerns to their elders, start attending another congregation’s services, decline requests from their elders to meet, and then never bother to ask for a transfer of membership. In light of this overwhelming and discouraging pattern, I am very pleased when a Church member is extremely reluctant to even consider transferring to another congregation.

Nonetheless, I am also concerned when families struggle spiritually because they have to drive an hour for services and have no opportunity for fellowship with other members during the week when there are two or three confessionally reformed congregations nearer their house. (This is not uncommon in major metropolitan areas, such as Denver.) In these and similar instances, I wonder whether fathers and husbands, out of a misguided understanding of their obligations, are doing their families a disservice when a ready solution to their problem is at hand.

I could multiply examples of legitimate reasons to leave one particular congregation for another, and I could similarly multiply examples of really bad reasons. Again, this is a matter best left to sanctified wisdom, guided by Scripture, bathed in prayer, and exercised with submission and deference to one’s elders. If a Church member makes his decisions in this way, then he can be assured he is acting in accord with God’s Word and his membership vows.

Pro-Cross

In conjunction with becoming a foster parent, I've been thinking about how "pro-life" issues can be better framed via a theology of the Cross. To be overly broad, people kill babies and old people because allowing them to live would impose what they perceive to be unbearable burdens upon themselves; in other words, choosing "life" for the baby or old person would mean a death to self, to one's own preferences and ambitions.

Today's "culture of death," then, might better be described as a "culture of death for other people so I might live my life to its fullest." Over against this, the "pro-life" choice is simultaneously a choice to die to oneself; in other words, to take up one's cross.

If and When

In English, “if” and “when” are distinct words with overlapping meanings. We often use “when” to refer to definite events which are certain to occur (“I’ll get out of bed when the sun comes up”), but “when” can be used interchangeably with “if” for uncertain, contingent events (“I’ll buy some new boots when I win the lottery”).

Thus, the Greek word “ean” can be translated into English with “if” or “when;” which term the translator chooses depends, to a great extent, on the certainty of the event to which the term refers. This is why I initially translated John 12:32 as “And I, when I am lifted up, will draw all men to me.” After all, what was more certain than the crucifixion of Christ and the subsequent evangelization of the world? I was surprised any English version would use “if” rather than “when” in this sentence.

But.

Sunday morning as I was preparing to preach on John 12:20-33 from the NKJV, I suddenly noticed the parallel between John 12:32 and 12:24: “...if [a grain of wheat] dies, it bears much fruit.” The NKJV translates “ean” as “if” in both John 12:24 and 12:32 to draw out an implication of Jesus’ analogy: the fruit to be borne by Christ’s death is as certain as the harvest to be reaped from a field sown with grain. Were “ean” translated differently in John 12:24 and 12:32, this point could easily be missed.

Let the record show: the Presbyterian Curmudgeon acknowledges the translators of the NKJV just may, on occasion, have more insight into a given text than he.

We have seen the enemy, and he is us

Ordained Servant is the OPC's journal for, well, ordained officers. It appears online, with an annual print edition. This month, Carl Trueman, a professor of Church history at Westminster Theological Seminary, uses a review of David Wells' The Courage to be Protestant as an occasion to consider, with an impressive amount of historical and sociological insight, the huge challenges facing any attempt to rebuild a robust Church life in the midst of America's individualistic and capitalistic culture.

The short version: Because conservative presbyterians have chosen to become conservative presbyterians, they may be the greatest obstacle to rebuilding confessional presbyterianism. "There is nobody less likely to refuse to meet with the elders, in my experience, than the hardline confessionalist whose monopolistic possession of the truth, combined with an oh-so-sensitive conscience and a Luther complex, places him above the reach of ordinary church courts."

The long version: http://www.opc.org/os9.html?article_id=147

Redemptive History and the Markan Scriptures

In my last post, I discussed why Mark's Gospel ends at 16:8 from the perspective of its human authorship. Now I want to turn to the same question from the perspective of its divine authorship. This is the question of the canon, or "Why did God give us the Scriptures he gave us?"

The work which has most profoundly shaped my thinking on the Biblical canon is Herman N. Ribberbos' Redemptive History and the New Testament Scriptures (Phillipsburg: P&R, 1963; 2nd rev. ed., 1988). What I consider his most important contribution to the study of the canon is the observation that the New Testament Scriptures were the apostolic doctrinal foundation on which the Church was to be built (ex. 1 Corinthians 3). Practically speaking, this means we have 1 and 2 Corinthians because those Pauline letters contained apostolic doctrine necessary to the building and maintenance of the Church, and we don't have Paul's other letters to Corinth because they were not necessary to that end.

In other words, when considering the canon of Scripture, we can rest in God's providence. He ensured we have the prophetic and apostolic doctrine we need: we just don't need whatever else the apostles and prophets wrote, no matter how interesting those works might have been.

So let us assume R.T. France (along with some others) is right when he suggests the original, longer ending to Mark's Gospel has been lost to us, just as have been Paul's other Corinthian letters. From the divine perspective of the God who not only superintended the writing, but also the preservation, collection, and canonization of the Scriptures, nothing has truly been lost. The Church has, in the version of Mark's Gospel which she has preserved, the Gospel she needs.

Whatever Mark's own intentions may have been, God himself intended this Gospel to end at 16:8 for the good of the Church.

The tail end of Mark's Gospel

Most English versions of the Bible, if they print it at all, put Mark 16:9-20 in brackets and indicate those verses' origin as fairly dubious. Going back a long, long time, we have plenty of evidence Mark's Gospel ended at 16:8, and equally plenty of evidence 16:9-20 was an addition constructed so the expected record of Christ's resurrection would be in place.

As one might anticipate, a (very minor) minority still argues Mark 16:9-20 is authentic, but the majority does not. However, that majority, at least today, falls into two camps: those who think Mark deliberately ended his Gospel with 16:8, and a smaller group which thinks Mark's original ending was lost quite early on, leaving no traces. In this post, I want to discuss a couple assumptions made by this latter group which, in my opinion, lead to an erroneous conclusion.

To be clear, I by no means think these people are crazy or incompetent: they include R.T. France, who tops my list of "Anglicans Who Are Super Good at Exegesis." France is an interesting example because, in the introduction to his commentary on Mark (in the New International Commentary on the Greek Testament series), he argues the Gospels were each drawn from a wide array of sources and were not necessarily themselves used as sources for the others' composition. This stands against the prevailing view that Mark was written first, then Matthew and Luke used Mark as one of their sources, and who knows what John was up to. If France is right on the Gospels' literary origins, and I think he is (or at least the school of thought which he represents), then it doesn't matter whether Mark was written before Matthew.

At the same time, France does lean toward Mark being the first of the written Gospels, and this leads him to think it extremely unlikely Mark would not include an unambiguous record of Christ's resurrection. In other words, if Mark is the first to get the story out, he wouldn't omit its most important part. But if Mark is not the first (and I lean toward Matthew being first, with a heavy dose of agnosticism on the priority question), he doesn't have to get all the details absolutely clear. He is free to leave things a bit murky, knowing the straight story is readily available elsewhere.

This raises a related point: it seems most, if not all, assume Mark is writing his Gospel in isolation; that is, his Gospel will be the only version of the Gospel his readers will encounter. But maybe he wasn't. Peter makes reference to Paul's letters (2 Peter 3:15-16). If Churches read the letters of several apostles, why, in principle, could they not read several Gospels? In that case, the Evangelists do not present competing views of Christ, but complementary ones. As Big Ideas go, God becoming man in order to redeem mankind from sin and death and recreate the heavens and the earth in the bargain is, well, about as big as they get. Most of the time, I tend to think only four perspectives is passing few.

It's entirely possible Mark's Gospel had a longer ending than that which we currently have; after all, one cannot prove a negative. If it did, however, it was not because Mark's was the first Gospel, or because he wrote it in isolation; these scenarios cannot be proven, and at least the latter strikes me as very unlikely. At this point, I am of the opinion Mark ended his Gospel at 16:8 because that was the best way to present his contribution to inspired Christology.

Dour on the New Calvinism

The Curmudgeon household has a subscription to Time magazine, a fringe benefit to taking The Denver Post (motto: "Denver's newspaper of record, like it or not."). Last week the editors favored us with their list of "Ten Ideas Changing the World Right Now." Number three was "The New Calvinism" (http://www.time.com/time/specials/packages/article/0,28804,1884779_1884782_1884760,00.html).

One might think that, as a Calvinist, I would be pleased to be getting a little recognition in the national media. But then, one would do well to remember I am a curmudgeon, not an evangelical. Presbyterians don't need to be validated by the media; the media needs to be validated by Presbyterians.

But of course, the article in question didn't mention presbyterians, other than a single reference to the Presbyterian Church U.S.A (motto: "For those who like synods, but not confessions."). In fact, there was no hint whatsoever that Calvinism might be anything other than five soteriological points; certainly, there was no indication Calvin's Institutes set forth an extremely robust ecclesiology.

Which is why I'm not sure why this "Calvinism" is "new." Southern Baptist Al Mohler is quoted as observing Calvinism is a natural consequence of thinking about God Biblically; the inevitable consequence is that those who take their Bibles seriously will end up thinking Calvinistically. True enough, and that's why back when I was in college and majorly immersed in evangelicalism, I discovered pretty much everyone (other than the committed Anabaptists) leaned toward the five points of Calvinism. Missing, however, was any kind of ecclesiology: after all, I was an evangelical by virtue of participation in parachurch ministries, not membership in the Church. I soon learned that theology without the ordinary means of grace (Word, sacrament, prayer, mediated through and in corporate worship) makes for pretty thin spiritual sustenance. Disembodied predestinarian doctrine isn't really Calvinism; it's a gnosticism which can kill the soul.

One way of reading recent American conservative presbyterian history (which just happens to be my way) is to see it as the story of "New Calvinists" coming into confessional presbyterian Churches, often as ministers, without any grounding in confessional presbyterianism itself. Not surprisingly, the result has been detrimental for presbyterianism: a diet of doctrine proves unsatisfying, and hungry congregants start devouring one another. Thus, try as I might, I just can't get excited about Time magazine getting excited about this so-called "New Calvinism."

Of course, if John Piper becomes a presbyterian, I just might renew my subscription.

Doing iconolatry right

An iconoclast is, properly speaking, a destroyer of idols. Growing up in Europe, I still remember some tsk-tsking over the tendency of early Christian preachers and missionaries to smash statues of pagan gods into little bits; as though it would be more sensible to honor the false gods who had wickedly enslaved our fathers to the evil one.

Presbyterians, historically, do iconoclasm better than just about anybody else. Nonetheless, Peter Leithart offers an interesting and attractive counterpoint: http://www.leithart.com/2009/03/18/incarnation-and-icon/#more-5306.

Legal risk

Mrs. Curmudgeon and I are certified foster parents in Adams County, Colorado (where we reside). This is because we hope to adopt a baby girl through social services. The system has labeled us "foster-to-adopt;" this is because while, Lord willing, a baby whom we will eventually adopt will be placed in our home as soon as she enters the social services system, we will officially be her foster parents unless and, should it please God, until the parental rights of the birth parents are terminated by the courts.

At a meeting last week, a county attorney observed that people like us used to be labeled "legal risk" parents to help judges understand that children placed in our homes were not guaranteed to be taken away from their birth parents and be adopted. "Legal risk" means that, by law, we take the chance of welcoming a baby into our home only, after some period of time, to have her returned to birth parents who have proven their competency to the courts.

For obvious reasons, "foster-to-adopt" sounds much better for recruiting purposes than "legal risk." And yet, there's something profoundly right about the latter term. Parenting is risky business. It is the constant, and often realized, risk of loving a person far more than that person will ever love you in return. It is the risk of a life of sacrifice without any real reward. To be the kind of parent whose children will not be removed by social services is to risk the loss of one's self, of one's identity, for the sake of one's children.

To be a parent is to be willing to lay down your life for your children, and, in the infinite sacrifices and concessions by which we surrender our individual identities to be forever labeled in their eyes, and in the eyes of society, as, finally and ultimately, their parent, is to in a very real way lose that life. To be a parent, to be a parent properly speaking, is to take up your Cross and in imitation of your Savior to crucify self, and to have that choice overlooked and ignored. As, indeed, only Joseph of Arimathea seemed to have the wherewithal to realize a burial was necessary.

To be a parent, that is, to be a disciple of Christ, is to be at risk. As it should be.

Resurrection & the Church

The wise of this present age find the notion of resurrection impossible to believe. They therefore explain the accounts of Christ's resurrection in the Gospels as an existential attempt by the community of the early Church to make sense of what they had experienced. That is, it was a myth generated by those committed to Jesus' ministry which was meant to symbolically, not literally, vindicate the validity of his preaching in the light of his shameful death.

But as Luke Timothy Johnson notes on page 390 of his commentary on Luke's Gospel, this account gets things precisely backward. The Gospels do not show us a cohesive community immediately after Jesus' death, but an assortment of discouraged followers on the brink of scattering to the four winds. Memories of Jesus' earthly ministry did not keep them together. Rather, they were brought together into the community which would become the Church by the coming of the resurrected Christ to them.

The Church did not invent Christ's resurrection; rather, Christ's resurrection created the Church.

Presbyterian statuary

Our friends the Boersmas, who are missionaries in South Africa, recently visited Brazil. In Rio de Janeiro, they found what claims to be the first Presbyterian Church building in that nation (although I wonder if they didn't put up something a little more modest to begin with). In the plaza it faces are several statues demonstrating presbyterian distinctives. Notice how everyone in the pews are carefully examining their Bibles in response to the preached word. Does my curmudgeony heart good.

Two other criminals

Luke 23:32 tells us Jesus was led away to be killed along with two other criminals. Quite literally, that's what the text says; in the Greek, "other" is an adjective describing "criminals," a noun. That being the case, it's interesting to see the various circumlocutions employed by the allegedly literal English translations, such as "two others, who were criminals" (ESV). In this case, they unnecessarily turn a noun into a participial phrase. This verbal mangling seems motivated by an overly pious desire to avoid the implication, created by Luke, that Jesus was a criminal.

This pietism is not only misguided, it has the effect of denying the truth plainly stated in one of the best-known prophecies of our Lord's Passion: "[He] was numbered with the transgressors; yet he bore the sin of many, and makes intercession for the transgressors." (Isaiah 53:12)

Happy days are here again

Thanks to the hue and cry raised by you, the vast legions of Presbyterian Curmudgeon readers, Dreyer's has restored Girl Scouts Thin Mint ice cream, in all its fat- and sugar-laden glory, to the freezer shelf of my local grocer.

I am recomfited.

Lincoln & Darwin

I heard on February 12 that Abraham Lincoln and Charles Darwin were born on the same day 200 years ago. The amateur cultural observer cannot help wonder, then, which has proven more important. An obvious case can be made for Darwin; evolutionary theory everywhere dominates the hard and social sciences. Moreover, it has allowed materialism of all forms to claim legitimacy, and therefore to deny the Creator's claims over his creation.

For all that, my choice is still Lincoln. Without Lincoln, historical circumstances would very likely have led to the rebellion of the Southern States, but without Lincoln, it's very difficult to envision how the Union would have been preserved from its darkest hour. And as Lincoln observed in the Gettysburg Address, without the Union to embody the principles articulated in the Declaration of Independence, they would have become discredited and lost as a practical basis for governance.

In other words, Lincoln is more important than Darwin because all men are created equal and endowed by their Creator with the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

Go ahead, curse the darkness

I'm thinking of having this line by the late Richard John Neuhaus translated into Latin and added to the family crest: "And yes, I know that it is better to light a candle than to curse the darkness. But sometimes it is necessary to curse the darkness as well, just to prevent our getting used to it."

Richard III in Denver

I'm largely in agreement with Lisa Bornstein's review of Richard III in today's Rocky Mountain News (http://www.rockymountainnews.com/news/2009/feb/12/comedy-upstages-villainy/), although I think she is far roughter on Andrew Long in the title role than is warranted. I saw the show on Tuesday, and I walked away thinking, as Bornstein notes, that the show very much belonged to the women. The strongest moment of the production was the scene between the three queens in the second act; and although it's been at least a decade since I've read or seen this play, I tend to think its power comes more from the lines as written by Shakespeare than from the relative weakness of the remainder of this particular staging.

If nothing else, I was once again struck by the wonder of Shakespeare's dialogue, even when character development is somewhat absent. (Actors playing the two murderers may have more to work with than those playing Hastings.) The man could, indisputably, write; it's impossible to imagine a better way of phrasing what his characters have to say. Every time I lay out hard-earned cash for a Shakespeare play, I wonder if it's worth the expense. Every time, I walk away knowing it was.

One last note for those intimidated by Elizabethan English: at a performance, one is never confused as to what the words and lines mean; instead, one's understanding and appreciation for the possibilities of our language is only increased. Yet another reason Shakespeare is immortal.

The word of the day is "recomforture"

Also "recomfiture," meaning "new comfort" (as defined in the Shakespeare Lexicon by Alexander Schmidt, p. 949). Contextually, "to receive renewed comfort."

Ex. "Every year, Girl Scout Thin Mint ice cream has been my recomforture."

Extreme cleverness at the Sacred Sandwich

http://sacredsandwich.com/archives/2472

Effective policing