"We cannot keep running fiscal deficits like we are currently without having a lot of consequences over time."
From Reuters.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Friday, November 13, 2009
Friends, Please Read This Article
http://accurmudgeon.blogspot.com/2009/11/putting-it-all-together.html
I must confess, it is my judgment as a man trained in economics that this is the direction we are headed in. The moral of the story: buy now. Take those big, low-interest loans the banks are offering now and buy things like property that will retain value through a hyperinflationary period. It'll be nice to own a million dollar home that you only owe $150,000 on, believe me. Thinking of going back to school? Student loan rates are worse now than five years ago, but 6.8% fixed over twenty years will really (really, really) come back to bite the issuers should hyperinflation arrive as it seems it will.
Other investment options of note: resalable, durable raw materials (metals, gold, etc.), foreign stocks (preferably those whose dollar exposure is limited), domestic stocks of companies who deal in a mixed bag of currencies, foreign currencies of countries who have federal surpluses and are thus not as likely to be drawn into a U.S.-led currency shock (i.e. China, Russia, Brazil).
I must confess, it is my judgment as a man trained in economics that this is the direction we are headed in. The moral of the story: buy now. Take those big, low-interest loans the banks are offering now and buy things like property that will retain value through a hyperinflationary period. It'll be nice to own a million dollar home that you only owe $150,000 on, believe me. Thinking of going back to school? Student loan rates are worse now than five years ago, but 6.8% fixed over twenty years will really (really, really) come back to bite the issuers should hyperinflation arrive as it seems it will.
Other investment options of note: resalable, durable raw materials (metals, gold, etc.), foreign stocks (preferably those whose dollar exposure is limited), domestic stocks of companies who deal in a mixed bag of currencies, foreign currencies of countries who have federal surpluses and are thus not as likely to be drawn into a U.S.-led currency shock (i.e. China, Russia, Brazil).
Friday, October 30, 2009
16 Hours
I'd like to ask for prayers as I am about to prepare to go through the longest continuous shift of my working life. Tomorrow (Saturday) I'll be working for 16 straight hours for West.
Most Holy Theotokos, pray for us!
Most Holy Theotokos, pray for us!
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
St. Justin Martyr on the Word of God
In St. Justin's little-known Discourse to the Greeks the final passage (where he finally turns his attentions away from paganism and toward Christianity) has a great number of profound sentiments and interesting phrases. Therefore, I shall quote it in its entirety:
"Henceforth, ye Greeks, come and partake of incomparable wisdom, and be instructed by the Divine Word, and acquaint yourselves with the King immortal; and do not recognise those men as heroes who slaughter whole nations. For our own Ruler, the Divine Word, who even now constantly aids us, does not desire strength of body and beauty of feature, nor yet the high spirit of earth’s nobility, but a pure soul, fortified by holiness, and the watchwords of our King, holy actions, for through the Word power passes into the soul.
O trumpet of peace to the soul that is at war!
O weapon that puttest to flight terrible passions!
O instruction that quenches the innate fire of the soul!
The Word exercises an influence which does not make poets: it does not equip philosophers nor skilled orators, but by its instruction it makes mortals immortal, mortals gods; and from the earth transports them to the realms above Olympus. Come, be taught; become as I am, for I, too, was as ye are. These have conquered me—the divinity of the instruction, and the power of the Word: for as a skilled serpent-charmer lures the terrible reptile from his den and causes it to flee, so the Word drives the fearful passions of our sensual nature from the very recesses of the soul; first driving forth lust, through which every ill is begotten—hatreds, strife, envy, emulations, anger, and such like. Lust being once banished, the soul becomes calm and serene. And being set free from the ills in which it was sunk up to the neck, it returns to Him who made it. For it is fit that it be restored to that state whence it departed, whence every soul was or is."
Obviously, a great deal of commentary can be offered regarding such a passage, and I intend to offer some, but for the sake of the brevity of this post itself, I shall save it either for the comments section or for another post altogether.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Good News, Great News, and Strange News on the Job Front
Well, as the titles says, I have good news, great news, and strange news to share regarding my work.
First, the good news is that I have been officially hired as a Packer by West Company. This jumps my hourly pay rate from $8.50/hr to $10.14/hr.
The great (and supremely unexpected) news is that the $10.14/hr is actually a probationary rate of pay. If I finish my first ninety days and pass my evaluations, I will receive more than merely benefits and continued employment, I'll actually earn another raise which ought to be about a dollar fifty (because this will happen after a January cost-of-living increase, I can't give a specific number).
And finally, the strange news is that I was contacted today by the Census Bureau, who requested that I work for them again at a rate of $13/hr on a 40 hour workweek. While I will no doubt have great difficulty working 80 hours a week, the flexibility of the position should allow me to do both the census work and my normal job for the two months that the Census job should last. Wow, this is all rather extraordinary- I wonder if I'll survive? In any case, this should make paying for my Spring semester class quite a bit easier.
First, the good news is that I have been officially hired as a Packer by West Company. This jumps my hourly pay rate from $8.50/hr to $10.14/hr.
The great (and supremely unexpected) news is that the $10.14/hr is actually a probationary rate of pay. If I finish my first ninety days and pass my evaluations, I will receive more than merely benefits and continued employment, I'll actually earn another raise which ought to be about a dollar fifty (because this will happen after a January cost-of-living increase, I can't give a specific number).
And finally, the strange news is that I was contacted today by the Census Bureau, who requested that I work for them again at a rate of $13/hr on a 40 hour workweek. While I will no doubt have great difficulty working 80 hours a week, the flexibility of the position should allow me to do both the census work and my normal job for the two months that the Census job should last. Wow, this is all rather extraordinary- I wonder if I'll survive? In any case, this should make paying for my Spring semester class quite a bit easier.
Is God in the Lake?
Contrary to popular notions, Christian perceptions of the afterlife have never been as fully developed as is sometimes thought (and portrayed). That is, while there are certain items which seem to be set forth from the very beginning as concrete dogmas, there are other items (some of which may be quite surprising) which are not answered in the dogmatic writings of early Christianity.
For example, there is the question of the timetable of the resurrection. For instance, Jesus says to the dying thief on the cross "today you will be with me in paradise." Now, assuming that the "world to come" is not some sort of parallel, synchronious universe in which the thief immediately experiences resurrection and lives with God, what happens? Does the thief die and simply dissolve, his body waiting in the tomb for the coming future resurrection? But how can Christ then speak of his being in paradise "today?" Numerous explanations have been posited. For instance, some hold that the thief does in fact dissolve, but is then raised at the end of time and so his next experience is that of being in paradise. Thus, from his perspective (and solely from his perspective) he comes to the Lord's paradise "today."
Others hold that Jesus is using the word "today" metaphorically. Thus, Christ is really only speaking of "this present age," the age of God's victory. Still others hold that the thief dies in the body but that his disembodied soul is still somehow alive(-ish) and is therefore truly presently with the Lord in heaven, as he praises God and waits the coming resurrection of the body. (This view tends to be the one best supported by the Holy Scriptures and seems also to have been more of a majority view for ancient Christians.)
However the point I am trying to make is this: there are certain dogmas which are given and certain large gaps in Christian eschatology which have been a source of all manner of (pleasant and unpleasant) debate amongst Christians throughout the ages.
So the question I would like to put to my readership is "is God in the lake of fire at the end of time?" From a simply image-based perspective the answer would be clearly "no." As one reads the Apocalypse, the answer is quite obvious. That is, in the book the Father and the Son are clearly in the heavenly city with their people. However, the Orthodox doctrine regarding God is that he is everywhere (and more than everywhere) and that everything that exists exists by and through him. Ergo, if the lake of fire and those who are thrown in it do in fact still exist, is seems impossible that they can exist apart from God. That is, in Orthodox theology, all that is uncreated is God, and all that is created depends on God both for its previous generation and its continued existence. Thus, it would seem that we can say that in spite of appearances, there is no place that is truly "god-less," because being a place, it is likewise a creation, and being a creation, it must be in some way directly linked to the Creator.
While the language in the Apocalypse is clearly of a largely non-literal nature, the early Christian dogma is also clearly that the righteous are physically raised (though with what would seem to be some new form of physicality) at the end of time. Likewise, there is a least a heavy implication in the New Testament that there is a physical resurrection for the wicked (cf. Matt 25, Rev 20).
But whether or not the wicked retain a form of physicality, the question still remains, how can they exist and be ontologically "apart" from God? I have heard many say in the past that hell is "eternal separation from God." While I think that there is much truth in this assertion, as it directly reflects the terrible images of the Apocalypse as well as many parabolic images from the gospels, I can't really see how that can be the whole of the matter. Perhaps in perception those in the lake are outside of the presence of God, or perhaps one might say they are "interpersonally" outside of his presence. Nevertheless, it seems impossible to me to believe that they might both exist and be ontologically outside of God's presence. (After all, this would seem to suggest both that God had granted the hellions something of an unrelated-to-god status which I can't help but believe is an impossibility.)
Any thoughts?
For example, there is the question of the timetable of the resurrection. For instance, Jesus says to the dying thief on the cross "today you will be with me in paradise." Now, assuming that the "world to come" is not some sort of parallel, synchronious universe in which the thief immediately experiences resurrection and lives with God, what happens? Does the thief die and simply dissolve, his body waiting in the tomb for the coming future resurrection? But how can Christ then speak of his being in paradise "today?" Numerous explanations have been posited. For instance, some hold that the thief does in fact dissolve, but is then raised at the end of time and so his next experience is that of being in paradise. Thus, from his perspective (and solely from his perspective) he comes to the Lord's paradise "today."
Others hold that Jesus is using the word "today" metaphorically. Thus, Christ is really only speaking of "this present age," the age of God's victory. Still others hold that the thief dies in the body but that his disembodied soul is still somehow alive(-ish) and is therefore truly presently with the Lord in heaven, as he praises God and waits the coming resurrection of the body. (This view tends to be the one best supported by the Holy Scriptures and seems also to have been more of a majority view for ancient Christians.)
However the point I am trying to make is this: there are certain dogmas which are given and certain large gaps in Christian eschatology which have been a source of all manner of (pleasant and unpleasant) debate amongst Christians throughout the ages.
So the question I would like to put to my readership is "is God in the lake of fire at the end of time?" From a simply image-based perspective the answer would be clearly "no." As one reads the Apocalypse, the answer is quite obvious. That is, in the book the Father and the Son are clearly in the heavenly city with their people. However, the Orthodox doctrine regarding God is that he is everywhere (and more than everywhere) and that everything that exists exists by and through him. Ergo, if the lake of fire and those who are thrown in it do in fact still exist, is seems impossible that they can exist apart from God. That is, in Orthodox theology, all that is uncreated is God, and all that is created depends on God both for its previous generation and its continued existence. Thus, it would seem that we can say that in spite of appearances, there is no place that is truly "god-less," because being a place, it is likewise a creation, and being a creation, it must be in some way directly linked to the Creator.
While the language in the Apocalypse is clearly of a largely non-literal nature, the early Christian dogma is also clearly that the righteous are physically raised (though with what would seem to be some new form of physicality) at the end of time. Likewise, there is a least a heavy implication in the New Testament that there is a physical resurrection for the wicked (cf. Matt 25, Rev 20).
But whether or not the wicked retain a form of physicality, the question still remains, how can they exist and be ontologically "apart" from God? I have heard many say in the past that hell is "eternal separation from God." While I think that there is much truth in this assertion, as it directly reflects the terrible images of the Apocalypse as well as many parabolic images from the gospels, I can't really see how that can be the whole of the matter. Perhaps in perception those in the lake are outside of the presence of God, or perhaps one might say they are "interpersonally" outside of his presence. Nevertheless, it seems impossible to me to believe that they might both exist and be ontologically outside of God's presence. (After all, this would seem to suggest both that God had granted the hellions something of an unrelated-to-god status which I can't help but believe is an impossibility.)
Any thoughts?
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Quote for the Day: C. S. Lewis
(Spoken through a fictional character in the novel Till We Have Faces)
"The Divine Nature wounds and perhaps destroys us merely by being what it is."
"The Divine Nature wounds and perhaps destroys us merely by being what it is."
Eucharist, Confession, Judgment
After having been Orthodox for about half a year now, I can offer certain insights into my experience of Orthodox life and how it differs from my life before becoming Orthodox.
Perhaps the single greatest difference is the frequent repetition of the Eucharist. It is not enough to say that the Eucharist "is served weekly" as opposed to bi-weekly or monthly or quarterly or some such thing. Rather, the Eucharist is the central activity of the Christian life for the Orthodox Christian. Whenever a Eucharist is coming, it forms a deep crease in the rhythm of life.
Let me illustrate by contrast. When I was a Methodist, we celebrated Holy Communion once a month. The day came and went, and while most I would say were in fact truly spiritually "into it" while it was happening, it had very little effect on outside living. There was generally very little understanding of the thing itself or what it might mean, as far as I can ascertain. For myself, however, who had read the Scriptures and knew that there was some notion of needing to do self examination because of the possibility of "eating and drinking unworthily," the immediate moments before taking communion often found me attempting some last minute repentance and promising (frequently in vain) that I would never do it again. So I guess there was a little crease there after all for me. The moments before receiving holy communion were moments of reflection and repentance.
However, as an Orthodox Christian, the coming presence of the Eucharist effects many things. It effects my diet. If the Eucharist is coming, I fast from all food, bread and water, at the very least from midnight of the previous night until whenever in the morning I receive. Likewise, it effects my habits of prayer. If the Eucharist is coming, I must offer certain additional prayers asking God's forgiveness and that he might cleanse me of any unworthiness and help me to take the Eucharist without bringing judgment, death, or condemnation upon myself. Furthermore, (for me personally) it necessitates the practice of normal evening and morning prayers on the day I receive. Additionally, it probably ought to, though in my case never actually has in practice, involved later, personal prayers of thanksgiving for having received.
So the contrast is this: for Methodists, the Eucharist is meaningful; for the Orthodox, it's life itself - with all of the gravity that this should entail.
So the other facet of the Orthodox "big crease" that is worthy of note is the way that it plays out with respect to sacramental confession. As a Protestant, I always used to wonder "how confessed is confessed?" That is, I knew that God knew all things. I could easily (even blithely in bad moments) acknowledge that I was a sinner, and that seemed to be enough. But in the face of the Orthodox Eucharist, with all of its gravity, the demand for a holy approach to the holy things seems elevated. That is, it strikes me that I really dare not play around with these things, that I really need to make a thorough examination of conscience and thorough confession before each partaking. If I cannot pass the test of my conscience, then I need to go to sacramental confession.
And the interesting facet of this, at least to me, is that communion and confession thus create a double-edged sword. That is, if my heart is right and bent on doing right, then confession, whether or not it needs to be done, is no burden, and partaking of the holy Eucharist is all joy. However, if my heart is wrong and I do not want to confess and repent of my sins, then the Eucharist hangs over me like a guillotine. I cannot take it without preparation, I cannot receive it without being right with God and being truly penitent for my sins. And yet this is not Protestantism, I can't decide I'm really penitent two minutes before I step into the communion line. If I really repented, then I would have made the effort to confess it and to "get a second opinion."
Moreover, the necessity of confession not merely to another person but to the person who distributes the holy gifts is helpful in that when I say I repent, he might always say "no you haven't." Therefore, the image becomes very clear. Life is in the cup. If I sin, I bar my way to the cup. If I never sin, I am never dependent on my spiritual father's further judgment and mercy. All judgment is already past for the Christian, unless he tragically chooses that it should be otherwise.
As far as it goes, approaching the Holy Eucharist as an Orthodox Christian has a much more "judgmental" cast to it in general. That is, I need to judge myself before I come to it, because it is the judge of all things. Jesus Christ, the heavenly judge, is in the cup. This is not merely a question of needing certain legal transactions to be taken care of, it is a matter of who and what I am. If I am evil and my repentance is false, then God the consuming fire will burn me inside and out. If I am good and my repentance proves true, then there is life in the cup beyond anything Moses could have imagined. The Eucharist thus serves both as a symbol and a foretaste in Orthodox life of the coming judgment and the consummation of the end of the age.
The God in the cup remains the same, the question is how I will respond to him. As an Orthodox Christian, it is better to let the opportunity pass than to commune in a state of unrepented sin. Nevertheless, the Eucharist's very presence is still there in the liturgy pointing me back to my need and the immanence of the divine judgment. If I am not prepared to be judged today, what will I say tomorrow if I stand before the final and everlasting judgment seat of Christ? These are deep thoughts, and worthy of great pause.
Perhaps the single greatest difference is the frequent repetition of the Eucharist. It is not enough to say that the Eucharist "is served weekly" as opposed to bi-weekly or monthly or quarterly or some such thing. Rather, the Eucharist is the central activity of the Christian life for the Orthodox Christian. Whenever a Eucharist is coming, it forms a deep crease in the rhythm of life.
Let me illustrate by contrast. When I was a Methodist, we celebrated Holy Communion once a month. The day came and went, and while most I would say were in fact truly spiritually "into it" while it was happening, it had very little effect on outside living. There was generally very little understanding of the thing itself or what it might mean, as far as I can ascertain. For myself, however, who had read the Scriptures and knew that there was some notion of needing to do self examination because of the possibility of "eating and drinking unworthily," the immediate moments before taking communion often found me attempting some last minute repentance and promising (frequently in vain) that I would never do it again. So I guess there was a little crease there after all for me. The moments before receiving holy communion were moments of reflection and repentance.
However, as an Orthodox Christian, the coming presence of the Eucharist effects many things. It effects my diet. If the Eucharist is coming, I fast from all food, bread and water, at the very least from midnight of the previous night until whenever in the morning I receive. Likewise, it effects my habits of prayer. If the Eucharist is coming, I must offer certain additional prayers asking God's forgiveness and that he might cleanse me of any unworthiness and help me to take the Eucharist without bringing judgment, death, or condemnation upon myself. Furthermore, (for me personally) it necessitates the practice of normal evening and morning prayers on the day I receive. Additionally, it probably ought to, though in my case never actually has in practice, involved later, personal prayers of thanksgiving for having received.
So the contrast is this: for Methodists, the Eucharist is meaningful; for the Orthodox, it's life itself - with all of the gravity that this should entail.
So the other facet of the Orthodox "big crease" that is worthy of note is the way that it plays out with respect to sacramental confession. As a Protestant, I always used to wonder "how confessed is confessed?" That is, I knew that God knew all things. I could easily (even blithely in bad moments) acknowledge that I was a sinner, and that seemed to be enough. But in the face of the Orthodox Eucharist, with all of its gravity, the demand for a holy approach to the holy things seems elevated. That is, it strikes me that I really dare not play around with these things, that I really need to make a thorough examination of conscience and thorough confession before each partaking. If I cannot pass the test of my conscience, then I need to go to sacramental confession.
And the interesting facet of this, at least to me, is that communion and confession thus create a double-edged sword. That is, if my heart is right and bent on doing right, then confession, whether or not it needs to be done, is no burden, and partaking of the holy Eucharist is all joy. However, if my heart is wrong and I do not want to confess and repent of my sins, then the Eucharist hangs over me like a guillotine. I cannot take it without preparation, I cannot receive it without being right with God and being truly penitent for my sins. And yet this is not Protestantism, I can't decide I'm really penitent two minutes before I step into the communion line. If I really repented, then I would have made the effort to confess it and to "get a second opinion."
Moreover, the necessity of confession not merely to another person but to the person who distributes the holy gifts is helpful in that when I say I repent, he might always say "no you haven't." Therefore, the image becomes very clear. Life is in the cup. If I sin, I bar my way to the cup. If I never sin, I am never dependent on my spiritual father's further judgment and mercy. All judgment is already past for the Christian, unless he tragically chooses that it should be otherwise.
As far as it goes, approaching the Holy Eucharist as an Orthodox Christian has a much more "judgmental" cast to it in general. That is, I need to judge myself before I come to it, because it is the judge of all things. Jesus Christ, the heavenly judge, is in the cup. This is not merely a question of needing certain legal transactions to be taken care of, it is a matter of who and what I am. If I am evil and my repentance is false, then God the consuming fire will burn me inside and out. If I am good and my repentance proves true, then there is life in the cup beyond anything Moses could have imagined. The Eucharist thus serves both as a symbol and a foretaste in Orthodox life of the coming judgment and the consummation of the end of the age.
The God in the cup remains the same, the question is how I will respond to him. As an Orthodox Christian, it is better to let the opportunity pass than to commune in a state of unrepented sin. Nevertheless, the Eucharist's very presence is still there in the liturgy pointing me back to my need and the immanence of the divine judgment. If I am not prepared to be judged today, what will I say tomorrow if I stand before the final and everlasting judgment seat of Christ? These are deep thoughts, and worthy of great pause.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Atheists Need a "God"
I had a very remarkable thought the other day.
I very frequently speak of the Nietzschian critique of moralist atheism as being right on the money. That is, to paraphrase the hideous Marquis de Sade, "if matter is all that is, than whatever is is right." In other words, if there is no God, then morality is ultimately arbitrary. A person can speak of himself doing things which are natural or unnatural, pleasant or unpleasant, harmful or harmless, but unless there is a God who fixes the boundaries of things and who has established judgments concerning them, a person cannot speak of anything being "right" or "wrong."
Regardless of the truth or error of atheism, we humans tend to have a felt need for morality, spirituality culminated in worship, the ability to arbitrate disputes, and the feeling of absolute authority. Moreover, all of these things seem to be at least somewhat necessary to what psychologists would describe as "well adjusted" human life. If we don't have them at least in some measure, there will be something at least a little unhealthy and skewed in our personalities.
Therefore, (and here is my "remarkable thought") I think it becomes incumbent upon the atheist to create a god. If there is no creator God to worship, then in spite of this, humans will (at a minumum) still need the ability of arbitrate moral disputes between one another. If there is no god who guarantees certain principles which can undergird law (e.g. life, liberty, property, divine right of kings, etc.), then one must be created to fill this position, at very least for the ordering of society.
Now, I'm not saying that the atheist should attempt to create some religion with a transcendent deity and attempt to pass off the fabrication (i.e. lie) as the truth, I think that the atheist should instead put things in very concrete, material terms. The "god" that the atheists might create would be a sort of "superman." That is, it might be something so simple as a single individual invested with all political, religious, and moral authority and who is the recipient of worship.
If technologies advance to the point where humans are able to create sentient artificial life forms, perhaps the atheist could choose from this instead of from the obvious flesh-and-blood candidate who will eventually die (and this finitude is a definite hindrance to the plan). Nevertheless, the point remains the same: if all things are arbitrary, then order can only be achieved through the arbitrary selection of an absolute authority, an anointed one to stand in the place of civilization's previous (and from the atheist perspective false) anointed one, an "in the place of Christ," an Antichrist.
An atheist religion, arbitrary and most probably brutally repressive, represents a cogent atheist response to the Nietzschian dilemma of relativized truth. Relativized moral truth ought to lead inevitably to the collapse of society as people come to visualize the world and their duties within it in ever more disharmonious ways. An atheist "god" would be a way back from the brink of personal relativism and arbitrariness and its ensuing chaos (though it would of course do nothing about the fact of cosmic arbitrariness).
--------------------------
No doubt all of that sounded crazy and not half as profound as I thought it was the other day. In fact, reading back over it, I'm not really sure the idea was all that profound to begin with. Any thoughts?
I very frequently speak of the Nietzschian critique of moralist atheism as being right on the money. That is, to paraphrase the hideous Marquis de Sade, "if matter is all that is, than whatever is is right." In other words, if there is no God, then morality is ultimately arbitrary. A person can speak of himself doing things which are natural or unnatural, pleasant or unpleasant, harmful or harmless, but unless there is a God who fixes the boundaries of things and who has established judgments concerning them, a person cannot speak of anything being "right" or "wrong."
Regardless of the truth or error of atheism, we humans tend to have a felt need for morality, spirituality culminated in worship, the ability to arbitrate disputes, and the feeling of absolute authority. Moreover, all of these things seem to be at least somewhat necessary to what psychologists would describe as "well adjusted" human life. If we don't have them at least in some measure, there will be something at least a little unhealthy and skewed in our personalities.
Therefore, (and here is my "remarkable thought") I think it becomes incumbent upon the atheist to create a god. If there is no creator God to worship, then in spite of this, humans will (at a minumum) still need the ability of arbitrate moral disputes between one another. If there is no god who guarantees certain principles which can undergird law (e.g. life, liberty, property, divine right of kings, etc.), then one must be created to fill this position, at very least for the ordering of society.
Now, I'm not saying that the atheist should attempt to create some religion with a transcendent deity and attempt to pass off the fabrication (i.e. lie) as the truth, I think that the atheist should instead put things in very concrete, material terms. The "god" that the atheists might create would be a sort of "superman." That is, it might be something so simple as a single individual invested with all political, religious, and moral authority and who is the recipient of worship.
If technologies advance to the point where humans are able to create sentient artificial life forms, perhaps the atheist could choose from this instead of from the obvious flesh-and-blood candidate who will eventually die (and this finitude is a definite hindrance to the plan). Nevertheless, the point remains the same: if all things are arbitrary, then order can only be achieved through the arbitrary selection of an absolute authority, an anointed one to stand in the place of civilization's previous (and from the atheist perspective false) anointed one, an "in the place of Christ," an Antichrist.
An atheist religion, arbitrary and most probably brutally repressive, represents a cogent atheist response to the Nietzschian dilemma of relativized truth. Relativized moral truth ought to lead inevitably to the collapse of society as people come to visualize the world and their duties within it in ever more disharmonious ways. An atheist "god" would be a way back from the brink of personal relativism and arbitrariness and its ensuing chaos (though it would of course do nothing about the fact of cosmic arbitrariness).
--------------------------
No doubt all of that sounded crazy and not half as profound as I thought it was the other day. In fact, reading back over it, I'm not really sure the idea was all that profound to begin with. Any thoughts?
Monday, September 21, 2009
A Hymn of the Cross
One of the hymns -at least I think I recall it as a hymn- of my church's recently-celebrated patronal feast caught my attention. Therefore, I offer it to my readership for their enjoyment and contemplation. I think my favorite line is "he made us beautiful." Somehow this line was stunning to me, because at the time it was offered I was being torn by guilt and a feeling that I would never truly escape my wickedness and the ugliness of my nature.
"The cross is raised up on high and urges all the creation to sing the praises of the undefiled passion of him who was lifted high upon it. For there it was that he killed our slayer and brought the dead to life again. And in his exceeding goodness and compassion, he made us beautiful and counted us worthy to be citizens of heaven. Therefore, with rejoicing, let us exalt his name and magnify his surpassing condescension!"
"The cross is raised up on high and urges all the creation to sing the praises of the undefiled passion of him who was lifted high upon it. For there it was that he killed our slayer and brought the dead to life again. And in his exceeding goodness and compassion, he made us beautiful and counted us worthy to be citizens of heaven. Therefore, with rejoicing, let us exalt his name and magnify his surpassing condescension!"
Holy Cross Fall Lecture Series
Hi All,
I'm sure I have about zero readership again after a fifteen day hiatus. But I'd like to put in a plug for Holy Cross' upcoming Fall lecture series.
Read all about it on http://holycrosswilliamsport.org/lectures.html.
I'm sure I have about zero readership again after a fifteen day hiatus. But I'd like to put in a plug for Holy Cross' upcoming Fall lecture series.
Read all about it on http://holycrosswilliamsport.org/lectures.html.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Dallas Morning News Apologizes for Harry Potter "Icon"
The Dallas Morning News has issued an apology for its Harry Potter "icon." Additionally, Rod Dreher, a member of the editorial staff issued the following apology on Fr. Joseph Huneycutt's Orthodixie Blog:
"Let me ask y'all to please save your outrage. I'm an Orthodox Christian, and on the editorial page staff of the Dallas Morning News. I can assure you that absolutely no offense was intended by the commissioning of this illustration. Most people in this culture have no idea what icons mean theologically to Orthodox Christians. It's a good idea not to assume malice when ignorance can explain something like this.
Compounding this lapse, though, is that I'm on staff, and am an Orthodox Christian, and believe it or not, responsible for proofing those pages before the go to print. I saw the black and white version of that page on Thursday evening, but didn't even look at the illustration. I looked at the text to see if there were any typos. I didn't even know about the icon until the paper came on Sunday morning, and my wife pointed it out to me. So while the section editor can genuinely plead ignorance, in my case, I don't have the same excuse. I should have seen it and at least alerted the editor that this would be problematic. Whatever the Greek or Russian phrase for "mea maxima culpa" is, I want to associate myself with it.
I want to thank those on this comments thread who have urged Orthodox to work towards education rather than jumping to show outrage. If this were a case of informed indifference or hostility toward Orthodox Christians, that would be one thing. But it's really not."
"Let me ask y'all to please save your outrage. I'm an Orthodox Christian, and on the editorial page staff of the Dallas Morning News. I can assure you that absolutely no offense was intended by the commissioning of this illustration. Most people in this culture have no idea what icons mean theologically to Orthodox Christians. It's a good idea not to assume malice when ignorance can explain something like this.
Compounding this lapse, though, is that I'm on staff, and am an Orthodox Christian, and believe it or not, responsible for proofing those pages before the go to print. I saw the black and white version of that page on Thursday evening, but didn't even look at the illustration. I looked at the text to see if there were any typos. I didn't even know about the icon until the paper came on Sunday morning, and my wife pointed it out to me. So while the section editor can genuinely plead ignorance, in my case, I don't have the same excuse. I should have seen it and at least alerted the editor that this would be problematic. Whatever the Greek or Russian phrase for "mea maxima culpa" is, I want to associate myself with it.
I want to thank those on this comments thread who have urged Orthodox to work towards education rather than jumping to show outrage. If this were a case of informed indifference or hostility toward Orthodox Christians, that would be one thing. But it's really not."
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