"Of Interest" Clean Up

There is a definite reason I categorize the links on the sidebar as "Of Interest." They don't fit neatly into any particular category, but for the most part are simply interesting sites to visit that usually have something significant to say. Certainly, there are scads of Orthodox links--but even these cover a broad spectrum (from official church links to JN1034). And then there is a Anglo-Catholic link, a Lutheran link, a lefty-Episcopal link (that's you, Jared!) and so on. Among these sites and the political/current affairs sites, you can find political endorsements ranging from Mike Gravel to Fred Thompson, and most everyone in between.

It seems that some bloggers have lives outside their blogs, however, and wisely choose to shut them down after a time. This has been the case with many of my favorite sites. I kept the links listed, hoping that they would reconsider. But in the interest of housekeeping, I will drop the links to the following, until I learn of their return:

Forty Days
Hispania Sancta
Oh Taste and See
Scrivener

I started to drop the link to Mustafa Akyol's White Path, after his posting about the Armenian Genocide. But, he has redeemed himself in subsequent articles, and I realize that if I refuse to communicate with those with whom I differ, then my course of action is no better than, say, our current foreign policy. So, he stays (for now).

I have added the following sites, however. They are all excellent.

A Conservative Blog for Peace
English Christianity
Scyldings in the Mead-Hall
Antiwar
The American Conservative

Scriptural Worship or Scripture Worship?

Outside of an occasional reference, I have avoided much in the way of my personal "conversion story" on these pages. First of all, it's too soon. Like one of my history professors said about the study of the Vietnam War: "It's not history yet." A certain time has to pass to reflect, and put events in proper perspective. Second, the fact that a person believes differently than before naturally infers that they believe their current belief to be superior. To feel the need to automatically defend the decision perhaps suggests more of a need to convince yourself than others. Finally, unless approached with care, such efforts can come across as triumphalist, which destroys any good that was intended.

That being said, I feel compelled, nevertheless, to toss a pebble or two in the direction of my old religious affiliation, the Churches of Christ. I owe much to these churches. Ultimately, they primed me for the fullness of Orthodoxy. I seriously doubt if I would have become Orthodox, save for my Church of Christ background.

But as a close friend and former preacher (Tim) told me recently, "you were never a good fit." And I suppose he was right. I always felt ill at ease with a number of things, not the least being much of our terminology. Our language seemed to convey the idea that we worshipped scripture itself, rather than He to whom scripture testified. I vividly recall the matriarch of our little church always saying that "we had to get back to the word," as she would peck on the cover of her Bible with her finger. Scripture--the word, if you will--was emphasized repeatedly--the Word, not so much. This summer, my wife and I were travelling in Arkansas. As my wife remains a faithful Church of Christ member(and Orthodox churches being as scarce as hen's teeth in Arkansas), we attended a worship service at an upscale Little Rock congregation. I followed along as the preacher gave an edifying talk taken from the Parable of the Prodigal. Amazingly, the name of Jesus Christ was not mentioned once--not a single time--not even in the "invitation" afterwards. It was all as dry as toast.

This seems so strange to me now, for in Orthodoxy, our worship is absolutely saturated in scripture, while at the same time it is Christocentric to a degree that I could have never imaged before. What led to this reflection on my part was (as always, it seems) an article in the paper. I actually read all the little ads in the Dallas Morning News Religion section. One of the Church of Christ advertisements got to me a bit. This particular congregatin set it out as plain as can be:

The Church and the Bible

Some people believe the Church gave us the Bible; that at some time in history religious leaders pronounced the 27 books of the New Testament inspired by God. Prior to this pronouncement, they think the books of the Bible were merely human writings. Nothing could be farther from the truth. The church did not give us the bible, the word of God gave us the church. God's word is the seed of the kingdom (Luke 8:11). It carries its own authority. All humans can do is recognize what is already inherently true about Scripture--that it is the inspired, authoritative word of the living God.

Join us Thursday at 7:00 PM for a workshop on how the Old and New Testaments have been preserved for us.

To me, this little statement encapsulates the worship of scripture. And it is just so misguided--wrong--on so many different theological and historical levels that one really doesn't know where to begin. Any thoughts?

Spengler on "Moderate Islam"

Spengler has a good article on the current state of anti-Americanism in Turkey, and how it got that way, here. Frankly, I'm a bit peeved at their latest temper tantrum over the Armenian Genocide resolution fiasco, and am not overly concerned that they disapprove of us. For Turkey, it seems from a recent survey, has the distinction of being the most anti-American nation in the world. Strange how one doesn't get a sense of this while traveling in the country.

Spengler makes the point that there are Kemalist Turks and Islamist Turks. Actually, I think this is too neat a split, for many secular Turks have voted for the Islamist party as a blow for good government over corruption. And I think these voters may be the decisive factor if the country swings towards coercive Islamism. But the jury is still out on this. I could be terribly wrong.

Spengler also charges that our notion of "moderate Islam" in Turkey is fallacious. In fact, he states that there is no such thing as "moderate Islam." I tend to agree. Turks are not moderate, merely unobservant, just as our Easter-only Christians are "moderate."

Spengler has a way of cutting to the chase on issues:

I have never believed that such a thing as "moderate Islam" exists, any more than I believe that "moderate Christianity" exists. Either Jesus Christ died to take away the sins of the world, or he did not; if one believes that Jesus was just another preacher with a knack for parables, one quickly will be an ex-Christian. Either God dictated a final revelation to Mohammed which invalidates the corrupted scriptures of Jews and Christians, and the sign of the crescent should rise above the whole world, or he did not.

We can talk about "moderate" Islam all we want (and save me the lecture about Cordoba), but ultimately it comes down to Spengler's conclusion.

In Praise of Used Bookstores

I made a quick trip up to Dartmouth College and back during this last week (left after work on Tuesday and was back at my office on Friday morning). The ostensible purpose was to attend a performance of the Zedashe Ensemble, as well as a symposium on Georgian culture. The venue served as something of a mini-reunion for 6 of us who traveled together last June, and our Georgian friends associated with the Ensemble.

I pulled off the interstate in central New Hampshire on Wednesday, looking for a local place to eat. I found something even better in Henniker, a stereotypical New England village. Here, I stumbled into one of those marvelous old used bookstores which still pepper the state. Such like are hard to find here in Texas, but seem to be still going strong in the Northeast. This particular establishment contained 155,000 volumes in 2 wonderful, musty floors of a barn-like building. My take was:

Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats (illus. by Gorey), T. S. Eliot
Reflections in a Jaundiced Eye, Florence King
Anthony Powell: A Life, Michael Barber
The Fall of the Byzantine Empire: A Chronicle by George Sphrantzes, 1401-1407, translated by Marios Philippides
Michael and Natasha: The Life and Love of Michael II, The Last of the Romanov Tsars, Rosemary and Donald Crawford.
The Chronicle of Theophanes (A.D. 602-813), translated by Harry Turtledove
A Lermontov Reader, Guy Daniels
The Heart of a Dog and Other Stories, Mikhail Bulgakov
Enemies of the Permanent Things: Observations of Abnormity in Literature and Politics, Russell Kirk

Vlad to the Rescue

I believe that much of the overblown rhetoric about Iran is just that. For all the bellicosity from the Bush administration, I don't believe that we even have the capacity to expand the war into Iran. That said, incidents such as this week's cringe-inducing press conference remain troubling. But it seems that Vladimir Putin may have just saved George Bush (and us) from himself, as Srdka Trifkovic reports here.

Trifkovic posits that "Mr. Putin is effectively helping President George W. Bush avoid an adventure that would bring ruin to all involved, save the promoters of an Islamic end-times scenario." He is referring, of course, to the recent Caspian Summit in Tehran. The Declaration at the summit, signed by Russia, Azerbaijan, Iran, Turkmenistan and Kazakhstan, effectively preempts any threat to the existing balance of power, by any non-Caspian state. As he notes, there will be no "Operation Iranian Freedom" for the remainder of the Bush presidency. Trifkovic concludes:

If there is one thing to be thankful to Mr. Bush, it is for his unwitting contribution to the emergence of a multipolar world. External restraint, unimaginable a decade ago, is being imposed on America. It is dictated by the perfectly normal desire of Russians, Chinese, Indians and many smaller nations, to prove—contrary to Mr. Bush’s repeated assurances— that “History” has not called America to anything.

It is to be hoped that the emerging new global balance of power will reflect internationally what the system of checks and balances does at home. Its re-establishment will render ludicrous the hubristic ravings of Benevolent Global Hegemonists. It will also help re-legitimize the notion of America as a nation among other nations and a state among other states, with definable and limited national interests as the foundation of its diplomacy. Contrary to what Mr. Bush and his dwindling band of apologists may claim, this is neither defeatism nor isolationism; it is sanity.

Why a resurgent Russia just now? It's not hard to figure out, and it's not just about the oil. Pat Buchanan sums it up here, better than most. His conclusion is damning and spot on:

At the Cold War's end, the United States was given one of the great opportunities of history: to embrace Russia, largest nation on earth, as partner, friend, ally. Our mutual interests meshed almost perfectly. There was no ideological, territorial, historic or economic quarrel between us, once communist ideology was interred.

We blew it.

We moved NATO onto Russia's front porch, ignored her valid interests and concerns, and, with our "indispensable-nation" arrogance, treated her as a defeated power, as France treated Weimar Germany after Versailles.

Who restarted the Cold War? Bush and the braying hegemonists he brought with him to power. Great empires and tiny minds go ill together.

Texas Roundup

Texas is a weird place. Weird, but never boring. This is one of those weeks when much of what I read in the papers strikes me as funny or ironic. So please excuse a little snarkiness on my part with the following Texas-flavored news items.

• Texas Governor Rick Perry has endorsed Rudy Giuliani for President. If you are starting a list of reasons not to vote for Rudy, this should go on page 1. Governor Rick says that he decided to support Giuliani after he had "looked him in the eye" and determined that he would appoint the right kind of Supreme Court judges. I wonder if Rick was able to "get a sense of his soul" as his former boss did with Vladimir Putin?
  Anyway, Governor Rick goes on to say that he is not interested in the Vice Presidential nomination. And neither am I, though I would consider an ambassadorship to the Bahamas. Maybe I'm looking at this wrong, but it seems to me that choosing a Vice-President from Texas-particularly in the current discrediting of all things Texan-to balance out the Republican ticket makes about as much sense as choosing a Vice-President from, say...Wyoming.

• Baptists are big in Texas, and the biggest, baddest Baptist church of all is First Baptist Church of Dallas. Dr. Robert Jeffress, author of the best-selling "Hell? Yes!," made news recently when he urged his flock not to support Mitt Romney. Jeffress reminded First Baptist that Mormonism was a "false religion" and that Romney could in no way be considered a Christian. In his sermon, he concluded that "Mitt Romney is a Mormon, and don't let anybody tell you otherwise." Thank you, Dr. Jeffress. I'm afraid Mitt was trying to sneak that one past us. Geez. I have my own ideas about Mormonism, but that is not the issue here at all.>
  I was appalled that this would be the sermon for the largest Baptist church in Texas--and apparently it didn't cause even a ripple of concern in FBD. Does it strike anyone else as wildly inappropriate for Dr. Jeffress to be making these attacks during a worship service? Does this tell us anything at all about warped views of the church's nature and worship? But that's just me. Baptists have always got into trouble with this sort of thing. I suspect they will this time, as well--and deservedly so. Joel Osteen of Houston's Lakewood mega-mega-church assured Larry King that Romney wouldn't be a problem for him. That makes it all better.

• And much closer to home, its time for our annual Rose Festival here in the crown jewel of East Texas. Rose Festival events go on all year in these parts, but October is when it all comes to the fore--when the social elite and wannabees pull out all the stops--parties, teas, ceremonies, more parties, parades, parties and coronations (yes, we do it twice). Diabetics are advised to avoid local newscasts and the newspaper during Rose Festival Week. Right-minded folks either flee the county or hole-up inside their homes until it all passes. I had thought my recent conference in Toronto would cover me, but I missed it by a week.
  This morning, though, I made the mistake of reading an account of last night's Festival Vespers Service. There were readings from the Psalms--in English, Spanish, French and Igbo (a language, apparently, of some 35 million Nigerians). The Queen's pastor comforted the crowd with the assurance that "God has an endless bucket of Grace." And the Queen's father (would he be the Queen Father?) observed that ours was "a city blessed by God....a wonderful place, with a unique identity that He has given to us that other cities wish they had. Its a God thing." And as the newspaper reported, "gold wisps of clouds framed the blue sky as the sun went down on the evening and service." (I'm not providing a link for this one--that's all anyone needs to know!)

But It Is Always Easier To Do The Cautious Thing

On the Armenian resolution, Democratic congressional resolve has folded like a lawnchair. Read their excuses here.

It's Never Wrong To Do The Right Thing

I've commented from time to time on the Armenian genocide question, here, here, and most recently, here. The U.S. House of Representatives seems poised to vote on a resolution labeling the death of 1.5 million Armenians as genocide. House Speaker Nancy Pelosi has stated that she plans to move ahead with the vote, here. In response to criticism that this would harm relations with Turkey, Pelosi observed:

"There's never been a good time," adding that it is important to pass the resolution now "because many of the survivors are very old. When I came to Congress 20 years ago, it wasn't the right time because of the Soviet Union. Then that fell, and then it wasn't the right time because of the Gulf War One. And then it wasn't the right time because of overflights of Iraq. And now it's not the right time because of Gulf War Two."

I've never put much stock in symbolic, empty, feel-good resolutions--the recent Congressional circus over the MoveOn.org resolution (where our junior Texas senator was allowed to be ringleader) being a case in point. The Armenian genocide resolution is not of that nature, however, and the time is now or never, as the last remaining Armenian Genocide survivors are quickly passing on.

Predictably, President Bush is dead set against the resolution, maintaining his consistent policy of coming down foursquare on the wrong side of history. Comments by Republican leaders are appalling. Senator Mitch McConnell noted that "there's a genocide museum, actually, in Armenia to commemorate what happened," as if to ask, "What more do these people want?" Senator Lindsay Graham stated "I'm not worried about World War I. ... I'm worried about what I think is World War III, a war against extremists, and Iraq is the central battle front and Turkey has been a very good ally," as if our current mess in Iraq exists in some sort of ahistorical vacuum, totally unconnected to the consequences of World War I.

The Turks are recalling ambassadors, threatening and blustering. Their armed forces chief, Gen. Yasar Buyukanit noted--instructively--that "we could not explain this to our public." Probably not--particularly after almost 90 years of the Big Lie. I love Turkey, and have a genuine fondness for the country and the friends I have made there. But on this issue, they can, to put it in East Texas vernacular, go butt a stump. This resolution is the right thing to do, at the right time.

As one would expect, Daniel Larison monitors the situation in 4 recent posts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.

Also, Spengler connects Turkey's current Kurdish problem with its unresolved Armenian genocide issue. I have never been as enthusiastic as some about Kurdistan, as noted here. This prejudice is based on their more than willing complicity in the Armenian genocide. As Spengler notes, "Turkey’s military leaders enlisted Kurdish tribes to do most of the actual killing in return for Armenian land. That is why Kurds dominate eastern Turkey, which used to be called, “Western Armenia”. It is not without irony, that as Spengler observes "the Armenian genocide, in short, gave rise to what today is Turkey's Kurdish problem."

And this behavior is not all ancient history, either. In the 1980s and 1990s, while the Turkish government looked the other way, Kurds in southeastern Turkey murdered and terrorized the Suriani Christian population of Mardin province. Most fled, and Kurds took possession of their businesses, homes and farms.

More from Spengler:

Nations have tragic flaws, just as do individuals. The task of the tragedian is to show how catastrophic occurrences arise from hidden faults rather than from random error. Turkish history is tragic: a fatal flaw in the national character set loose the 1915 genocide against the Armenians, as much as Macbeth’s ambition forced him to murder Banquo. Because the same flaw still torments the Turkish nation, and the tragedy has a sequel in the person of the Kurds, Turkey cannot face up to its century-old crime against the Armenians.

Shakespeare included the drunken Porter in Macbeth for comic relief; in the present version, the cognate role is played by US President George W Bush, who has begged Congress not to offend an important ally by stating the truth about what happened 100 years ago. The sorry spectacle of an American president begging Congress not to affirm what the whole civilized world knows to be true underlines the overall stupidity of US policy towards the Middle East.

It is particularly despicable for a Western nation to avert its eyes from a Muslim genocide against a Christian population.... It was not quite the same as Hitler’s genocide against the Jews, that is, the Turks did not propose to kill every ethnic Armenian everywhere in the world, but only those in Anatolia. But it was genocide, or the word has no meaning. To teach Turkish schoolchildren that more Turks than Armenians died in a “conflict” is a symptom of national hysteria. [and] touches upon a profound and well-justified insecurity in the Turkish national character.

Oot and Aboot in Toronto

I am back home after spending a few days in Toronto, where frequent flyer miles facilitated my attendance at the 33rd annual Byzantine Studies Conference. I attended 31 lectures in all--on such weighty subjects as "Barking at the Cross: A Curious Incident from the So-Called Chronicle of Zachariah of Mytilene," "Theopaschism in the Aftermath of of Chalcedon: An Early Prefiguration of Neo-Chalcedonianism," and "The Multiple-Domed Basilicas of Cyprus: Date and Significance." You get the picture, but I just love this sort of thing.



The fact that the booksellers were out in force was icing on the cake for me. At these events, the normally obscenely over-priced scholarly tomes are marked down to merely over-priced. I was excited to obtain a couple of hard to find works on St. Ephrem.



Most everyone there--besides myself--was either a professor or graduate student. I was designated as "Independent Scholar." I enjoyed myself immensely, and I briefly wondered what course my life would have taken had I pursued this career option. There's little regret, though. Academia is a fascinating place to visit, but I'm not sure I would want to live there.

A few observations, following:

• Toronto is a nice, pleasant city, just teeming with nice, pleasant people. The area around the University of Toronto, as well as some of the closer-in neighborhoods, are attractive and still retain something of an English feel to them. But much of the city--and particularly in the outlying metropolitan areas, with its horrendous traffic, box stores, malls and warehouses--could just as easily be...Houston. I found the sameness of our adjoining modern cultures to be striking. When you travel, passport in hand, to a foreign country, you expect things to be different. There's no real sense of this in Toronto. I spent a day before the conference driving through some of Ontario--or at least the part between Toronto and Buffalo. At the risk of making sweeping generalizations based on a brief exposure, I still have to say that Ontario is very much of a piece with New England, New York, etc. I'm not saying this is good or bad, just striking. In fact, the only Canadian "ey" I heard was from my new pal, Shaun the panhandler.

• On the northwest corner of the university campus, sits the Royal Ontario Museum (ROM), a large, stolid 1920's structure housing treasures of Ontario's history. While the building was not exactly awe-inspiring, it fit in well with the surrounding university community. Or at least it did. In June of this year, the new addition to the museum was opened. The powers that be decided to jazz it up a bit, the result being the picture at the top of the post. It is as though a giant steel and glass meteor had crashed into the side of the museum, leaving a vicious, ugly scar on the cityscape. Museums, by their very nature, are meant to impart to future generations something of the collective consciousness of a culture. Perhaps this monstrosity will indeed speak to the chaos and confusion of our own age. Alarmingly, the architect is one of two awarded the design for the new World Trade Center. In one of the presentations, the New York Times was quoted regarding 19th-century Byzantinist painter, Benjamin Constant, who paintings were described as "an aching void where taste should be." The same can now be said for the ROM.

• One of the great highlights of the trip was meeting and visiting with Daniel Larison, a young man whose work I have admired for some time. A Ph.D. student in Byzantine history at the University of Chicago, he presented an excellent paper on monothelitism at the conference. Daniel is a brilliant thinker, whose interests are wide-ranging. I find his blog, Eunomia, a must read, as are his articles in The American Conservative and other journals. He is an astute observer of foreign policy and political philosophy. On top of all that, he is a heck of a nice guy.

• To say that academic groups can be a bit insular would be putting it mildly. But that said, I had enjoyable visits with several others at the conference, as well. I met a professor at Holy Cross Greek Orthodox Seminary in Boston and discovered we had mutual friends from Holy Trinity in Dallas. I also had an enjoyable visit with a professor who presented a paper examining a phenomenon in the year 518 when, at the festival of the dedication of the Cross in Jerusalem, some Monophysites "became possessed by demons and bark at the Cross." I asked her whether she was aware of a similar occurrence on the American frontier, at the Cane Ridge Revival, in Kentucky, 1801. (This event played a pivotal role in the birth of the American Restoration Movement churches. Although well documented, church historians have always been a bit sheepish about the "barking" associated with the revival.) She was fascinated to hear of this and eager to know more. This led into a discussion of her research into Byzantine medical issues, which led, in turn to her reference to "Pontic honey." To which, I replied, "Oh, you mean crazy honey?" This led to the retelling on my anecdote about crazy honey in the Kackar Mountains, discussed previously, here. I can't imagine having such a conversation in any other setting!

• I went to Toronto a day early, specifically so I could rent a car and drive back into the States to do a bit of genealogical investigation. One branch of my paternal line stayed settled on Cape Cod for 5 generations, before decamping to western Massachusetts in the mid 1770s. Stopping there for a generation, they pushed on to far western New York, northeastern Ohio, Indiana and Michigan. One branch moved on to Missouri, from which two families stumbled into Texas just in time for the Civil War. Anyway, I tagged a couple of cemeteries that contained the graves of my g-g-g-g-grandmother, as well as 2 of my g-g-g-grandfather's siblings, among others. I do this for the same reason some people work crosswords or do puzzles--the hunt is the thing. But I was struck by just how attractive this part of the country was: the gently rolling hills, the forests, the neat, tended farmsteads with their massive barns. I wondered just what it was in the American psyche that made our forebears leave such homes--for the lands they found were often baser, less attractive and less productive. Obviously, everyone couldn't stay, but I wonder if any of these pioneers who later found themselves on a thin hillside in Missouri, Arkansas or Texas ever had buyer's remorse.

• And finally, a Canada joke: One our way to a concert presented at St. Anne's Church, one of the Canadian professors commented on the innate indecisiveness of Canadians (and how we Americans could stand to be a tad less decisive in all things). He told of a nationwide contest held to arrive at a slogan for Canadians that would parallel the saying "as American as apple pie." The winning slogan: "As Canadian as it is possible to be, under the circumstances."

An Orthodox Sampling

A couple of recent articles of an Orthodox nature have caught my attention.

First, at Sword in the Fire, found here, Theron has an excellent post on What will you do with Ignatius? This is the question all Evangelicals must grapple with if they ever venture into the Church Fathers. For if you believe that the nature of the early church was basically along the Protestant format, and that the rise of bishops and the sacramental view of the Eucharist and of baptism were later developments--innovations, in the Protestant view, that led the church down the wrong road and required the corrective of the Reformation--then what, exactly do you do with St. Ignatius?

His writings show the general understanding of the church in regard to the Apostolic teachings on these subjects--an understanding, I might add, at great variance with later Protestant interpretations. At the time of his martyrdom in AD 107, Ignatius was the aged Bishop of Antioch. He was of the First Century church, a slightly younger contemporary of St. John and the other Apostles. How exactly could these "digressions" have appeared and become generally accepted right under the noses of the Apostles? Either St. Ignatius must be wrong, or the Protestant presuppositions of 1500 years hence.

My first contact with the writings of St. Ignatius was an eye-opener for me, as it was for Theron. And with each of us, his work moved us down the road towards Orthodoxy. So, do read Theron's post. Better yet, read St. Ignatius. Just curious, has anyone else out there had the same experience with his writings?

Second, Frederica Mathewes Greene examines--in the face of an increasingly feminized Western Christianity--what exactly attracts men to the Orthodox faith. She canvased 100 Orthodox male converts for this study. Read the entire article Men and Church, here, from which the following is a brief summary:

1. Challenging. Orthodoxy is active and not passive…[It] is serious. It is difficult. It is demanding. It is about mercy, but it’s also about overcoming oneself…not to ‘feel good’ but to become holy. It is rigorous, and in that rigor...find[ing] liberation.

2. Just Tell Me What You Want. Orthodoxy presents a reasonable set of boundaries…It’s easier for guys to express themselves in worship if there are guidelines about how it’s supposed to work-especially when those guidelines are so simple and down-to-earth that you can just set out and start doing something…People begin learning immediately through ritual and symbolism…This regimen of discipline makes one mindful of one’s relation to the Trinity, to the Church, and to everyone he meets.

3. With a Purpose. Men appreciate that this challenge has a goal: union with God. Orthodoxy preserves and transmits ancient Christian wisdom about how to progress toward this “theosis”…Every sacrament or spiritual exercise is designed to bring the person, body and soul, further into continual awareness of the presence of Christ within, and also within every other human being.

4. A New Dimension. Excitement at discovering a dimension somehow sensed [in previous Christian experience] but unable till now to identify, the noetic”--the reality of God’s presence and of the entire spiritual realm…had become completely distorted in the Christianity I knew...Either...subsumed into the harsh rigidity of legalism, or confused with emotions and sentimentality, or diluted by religious concepts being used in a vacuous, platitudinous way. All three-uptight legalism, effusive sentimentality, and vapid empty talk-are repugnant to men…Participation in the Holy Mysteries [sacraments], observing the fasts, daily prayers, and confession with a spiritual director means making progress along a defined path that is going somewhere real and better.

5. Jesus Christ. He is the center of everything the Church does or says…Orthodoxy offers a robust Jesus…the “Marine Corps” of Christianity…Christ in Orthodoxy is a militant, butt-kicking Jesus who takes Hell captive…Compared to the Orthodox hymns of Christ’s Nativity, “‘the little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay’ has almost nothing to do with the Eternal Logos entering irrevocably, inexorably, kenotically, silently yet heroically, into the fabric of created reality.”

6. Continuity. The Orthodox Church offers what others do not: continuity with the first followers of Christ…continuity, not archeology…A catechumen writes that he had tried to learn everything necessary to interpret Scripture correctly, including ancient languages. “I expected to dig my way down to the foundation and confirm everything I’d been taught. Instead, the further down I went, the weaker everything seemed. I realized I had only acquired the ability to manipulate the Bible to say pretty much anything I wanted it to. The only alternative to cynicism was tradition. If the Bible was meant to say anything, it was meant to say it within a community, with a tradition to guide the reading. In Orthodoxy I found what I was looking for.”

7. Worship weirdness. It’s amazingly different…The prostrations, the incense, the chanting, the icons—some of these things took getting used to, but they really filled a void in what I’d experienced till then…Some men initially can’t make heads or tails of what we do in worship, because it’s not purely intellectual, and employs poetic worship language…It’s that there is such a strong masculine feeling to Orthodox worship and spirituality.

8. Not Sentimental. A hearty dislike for what they perceive as a soft Western Jesus…[which] presents Jesus as a friend…someone who ‘walks with me and talks with me’…Or it depicts Jesus whipped, dead on the cross. Neither is the type of Christ the typical male wants much to do with. men are drawn to the dangerous element of Orthodoxy, which involves “the self-denial of a warrior, the terrifying risk of loving one’s enemies, the unknown frontiers to which a commitment to humility might call us…Men get pretty cynical when they sense someone’s attempting to manipulate their emotions, especially when it’s in the name of religion. They appreciate the objectivity of Orthodox worship. It’s not aimed at prompting religious feelings but at performing an objective duty…Evangelical churches call men to be passive and nice (think ‘Mr. Rogers’). Orthodox churches call men to be courageous and act (think ‘Braveheart’).

9. Men in Balance. There are only two models for men: be ‘manly’ and strong, rude, crude, macho, and probably abusive; or be sensitive, kind, repressed and wimpy. But in Orthodoxy, masculine is held together with feminine; it’s real and down to earth, ‘neither male nor female,’ but Christ who ‘unites things in heaven and things on earth.

10. Men in Leadership. Like it or not, men simply prefer to be led by men… It’s the last place in the world men aren’t told they’re evil simply for being men.

For me, the main reason for my journey to Orthodoxy was obviously Jesus Christ, the faith being Christocentric far beyond my understanding and practice as a Protestant. But beyond that, Categories 1, 3, 4, 6 and 8 played a large role in my decision. What about you other guys out there?

And third, the UK Catholic journal, The Tablet, has a good story on noted Orthodox scholar John D. Zizioulas, who is also Metropoliltan of Pergamon. Yes, Pergamon. Zizioulas is noted for his Being as Communion (which I have read), and he has a new book in print, Communion as Otherness (which I have not). The interview touches on a number of topics and is well worth a look. Read it here.

Time to Spit

In recent months, I have refrained from commenting on the on-going war and American politics, as I realize I am becoming increasingly radicalized in my views. So I have tried to stick to travel and some occasional religious insight. The following post should get it out of my system for a while longer.

I recently watched once more "O Brother Where Art Thou," George Clooney's clever retelling of the Homeric epic by way of Depression-era Mississippi. I was reminded of how much I enjoyed the movie, primarily for the scenes of Charles Durning as Governor Pappy O'Daniel. In my book, Durning is one of the best character actors of all time. Give him a few lines and/or a dance number, and he will absolutely steal a movie--as he did this one. One of my favorite scenes was the one where the ample Mr. Durning did a little jig up to the microphone while the Soggy Bottom Boys were singing. This scene, however, followed perhaps the most satisfying scene in the movie. O'Daniel's opponent, the demagogue Homer Stokes, tried to turn the crowd against our errant heroes. Instead, the crowd turned surly towards Stokes, despite his pleas of "Is you is, or is you ain't my constituency?" The boos gained the day and the incredulous and sputtering Stokes was pelted with produce before literally being ridden out of town on a rail.

I had a brief sense of this same satisfaction while watching Mahmoud Ahmadinejad's speech at Columbia last week. And while I am alarmed at our administration's self-serving demonization of Iran, this guy is a real piece of work. He was clearly offput, and in obvious discomfort, by the questioning of Iran's persecution of homosexuals. With a straight face, Ahmadinejad declared there were there no homosexuals in Iran, and that he couldn't understand why anyone would even think such a thing. Yeah right, and there are no left-handed people in Iran, either. Jeez. [While indeed the modern understanding of homosexuality is a Western concept, the behavior itself is thoroughly rooted in the East.] And of course, that doesn't even begin to address Iranian persecution of Christians, Kurds, Bahais, Zoroasterians, etc. Anyway, such a bald-faced inanity was met with hoots of derision from the Columbia audience. Again, very satisfying in a Homer Stokesian sort of way.



This brings me to this excellent story by Taki. It seems that Taki, wife and son were celebrating Mrs. T's birthday at an exclusive Manhattan establishment of the type people like Taki would frequent. An acquaintance stopped by their table, and in the course of the conversation, let it be known that he was with a group honoring Paul Wolfowitz in a private dining room. Taki became incensed: "You actually are sitting down with that lying pig who has caused so much death and is responsible for tens of thousands being maimed and killed?” Then it gets interesting. Taki determined that he would go to the room and spit at Wolfowitz. Mrs. T pleaded with him not to do so, as it would ruin the birthday celebration. Taki reluctantly agreed, but not before some of the waiters had expressed to him their disgust for having to serve such a man. I'm with Mrs. T on this. I am foursquare against scenes in restaurants, believing that one of the best gauges of anyone's character is how they comport themselves in restaurants, particularly in their treatment of waiters and waitresses. So, Mrs. T was correct to reign Taki in. But I do sympathize with the understandable disgust at this ringleader of the bloody cabal that engineered our current debacle.

Taki concludes:

We should not take these liars lying down. These scumbags have caused so much misery and death, so much suffering to so many people, they should not be allowed to walk around with impunity. Forget the think tanks and networks and newspapers which still employ them. The neo-cons know how to survive. The only way to make them realize that they cannot fool all the people all of the time, as they have done until now, is to humiliate them whenever and wherever they appear in public. I had my chance and blew it. Perhaps I will have a second chance while I’m still around.

"Are We Rome?" Discussion

One of the most interesting discussions I've come across recently is the diavlog between Rod Dreher, author and journalist with the Dallas Morning News, and Cullen Murphy, author of Are We Rome?, found here. The periodic comparisons of our ongoing American cultural decline to that of ancient Rome always makes for a good debate. Personally, I believe strongly and unequivocally that...well, it is...and then it isn't. Similarities abound, certainly, but these are sometimes simplistic and superficial, and there is obviously much that is dissimilar between the course taken by the two empires.

I have some major reservations with the hypothesis. First, Rome really didn't fall, as such--or at least not the way generally thought, or when generally thought. Certainly there were times when the barbarians were literally at the gates, so to speak. But there was never a time when a Roman citizen of southern Gaul, for example, would stop and say, "my, haven't things been crappy since Rome fell." From my readings, I find no sense of such a sudden change. Societies changed and evolved, and in many ways declined, but the transformation was slow and often imperceptible and life went on.

Also, the end of Rome is either tagged at 410 AD (Visigoths), 455 AD (Vandals), or 476 AD (death of Romulus Augustus). But by the time Rome "fell," it had already been superseded (and eclipsed) by the New Rome (Constantinople.) These Romans of the East thought of themselves as exactly that, the "Romaioi." They would have been puzzled if anyone had addressed them as a Byzantine. And not only that, but this New Rome-for centuries, the marvel of civilization-continued on until 1453. So, even if one were to buy into the whole America=Rome theory, the date used for comparison is about 1,000 years shy of the final fall. The Roman experience is instructive for any culture, in any time, but one should be cautious in drawing too many comparisons.

That said, comparisons are easy to come by, even with the Eastern Romans. I am currently reading Michael Arnold's Against the Fall of Night, a 1975 fictional account of the Comnenian Revival of 12th-century Constantinople. In many ways, the era (1080-1204) marked the very pinnacle of Byzantine civilization. But behind the glitter and pageantry, the rot had already set in, their projected power something of a deceptive facade. For centuries, Constantinople had maintained a defensive posture--simply trying to maintain its borders, or what had once been theirs. This changed with the latter Comneni, who were aggressive militarily, which quickly exacerbated the underlying weakness of the empire. But even after the catastrophe of 1204, the Byzantines came back and held on for another 200 years.

American culture may have even more in common with Rome than we realize. But these things work out over extremely long periods of time. Even if true, we have a bit of a run yet, and I doubt if things will play out exactly as the doomsayers often predict.

Hill Country Respite

I've been a bit under the weather recently, more than a little tired in both body and spirit. A required continuing education seminar in Kerrville, TX last Saturday provided me the perfect opportunity to recharge my batteries while enjoying a bit of the Texas Hill Country. Really, a day or two out and about around Austin does me more good than most anything I know. I left after work on Thursday and returned home on Sunday. I had to spend 8 hours on Saturday at the seminar. But being an old hand around these environs, I managed, along the way, to work in the following extracurricular activities:

• Enjoyed a vanilla shake at the Health Camp Drive-In, "on the Circle," in Waco
• Had a beer with a former co-worker at the "Derrick Hands Club" in Mexia
• Took a refreshing dip in Lake Travis--the water being absolutely perfect
• Met my cousin for a mango margarita and Mexican food at the Fonda San Miguel in Austin
• Busted my book budget at the best little Orthodox book store in Texas, while Rdr. Mark treated me to a glass of his specialty tea
• Enjoyed two long swims in the best motel pool in Texas
• Had a chicken-fried steak at the Bluebonnet Cafe in Marble Falls, still going strong after 78 years
• Visited my grandparent's graves in the old family burial ground
• Attended Great Vespers (in Greek) at Holy Archangels Monastery in Kendalia
• Read copies of Fr. Stephen Freeman blog posts during my seminar
• Had a fillet at Hill's Steakhouse on South Congress
• Savored early morning coffee, papers and croissant on outside table at Jo's on South Congress
• Pancakes at Magnolia Cafe
• Sunday dinner at the Stagecoach Inn in Salado
• Attended packed Divine Liturgy at St. John the Forerunner Orthodox Church in Cedar Park

Austin is one of the big "what ifs" in my life. Like most everyone who attended college there, I really didn't want to leave. Of course, the Austin of my memory and imagination is long gone. The city is our version of Silicon Valley, awash in money and experiencing explosive growth. I was surprised to see that the Austin suburbs have reached Seward's Junction on Highway 183 North. And there used to be a interesting little crossroads community called Bee Caves, on the road to Llano, right before the turn-off to Hamilton Pool. There was never much there--a general store, a Baptist church and cemetery, a clutch of homes and a cedar-chopper's shack with a hand-painted sign advertising his prices for fence posts. It is now, simply gone. In its place is a shopping mall and a huge highway interchange at the main turn-off for the ritzy lake area subdivisions. The hills around the city are chock-a-block with faux Tuscan villas spilling down their slopes, each a little more over-the-top than its predecessor. I had to wonder, what with all the concern about the banking and mortgage crisis and fears of a recession, etc., just how close to the edge of financial ruin the occupants of many of these pretentious homes must be.

But in spite of our best efforts, and in light of all that has been lost, thankfully Austin is still Austin. Progress has failed in its concerted attempt to destroy the place absolutely. For Austin still attracts a certain kind of person, and that is where the real beauty of the place lies.

My headquarters in Austin is always the Austin Motel, a funky little tourist court on South Congress (or as some are trying to tag the area "SoCo"). It dates back to 1938. Actually, a German family bought the entire block in 1888 and operated various mercantile business there before building the motor court. Incredibly, this same family continued to operate it up until 1961, when they sold it to the current owners. So, the property on the main drag in Austin, within sight of the Texas Capitol, has been owned by only 2 families in the last 119 years. You can read about its history, here. What clinches the deal for me, though, is the best motel pool in town. Designed in the old style for real swimming, it is a secluded little oasis under the shade of a 100-year old live oak. And right next door is Jo's, a walk-up coffee and sandwich place. There's no better place to soak up a little authentic Austin atmosphere than sipping your coffee on one of their street-side tables.

I enjoyed visiting with my cousin. She divides her time between her parent's old home in Austin and the ranch house that has been in her family for 5 generations, some 80 miles north of the city. In her great-granddad's time, the ranch had encompassed 1100 acres or so. Sales and family partitions have reduced that to the 143 acres her dad inherited, including the old home place. She has lovingly restored the old place and spends as much time out there as possible. The surrounding area is being developed into 10-20 acre ranchettes, which is in the nature of things, I suppose. We talked of Major, the Australian sheep dog who was the last in a long line of sheep dogs on the ranch. I remember Major from visits to the ranch in the early 1990s. After her grandfather's death in 1994, Major continued to live on the ranch, as my cousin's father made almost daily trips there. But in time, he was moved to the Austin neighborhood, where he passed away in March, at over 18 years.

Holy Archangels Monastery is a bit hard to find (as it should be, I suppose), but well worth the effort. The construction of the complex surrounding the church is quite impressive, and beginning to take shape. There were about 12 of us there at the service, in addition to the monks. Of course it was all in Greek, with men on the right and women on the left. But once again I was reminded of how important the monastic presence is to the continued growth and expansion of Orthodoxy in North America. The next morning, I attended Liturgy at an Antiochian congregation in the northern suburbs of Austin. They are currently meeting in a converted ranch-style home, with fairly advanced plans to build in the coming year or two. The service was packed--easily 80 people in the former home, with probably upwards of 100. The service was vibrant; everybody participated in the responses, like the good ex-Baptists and ex-Church of Christ folk they probably all were. I was struck by the youth of the congregation--young people and young families predominated. At first glance, these two services seem dissimilar, but taken together, each speaks to the steady growth and vitality of Orthodoxy down here in the South land.

Eat at Jo's

Georgie Anne Geyer on Turkey

Georgie Anne Geyer is always good. In her most recent article, she writes on one of my favorite subjects, Turkey. Read it here.

This Just In....From Chadron, Nebraska

The Sunday Times reports on the goings-on in Chadron, Nebraska in A Rough Script of Life, if Ever There Was One. About 5,600 people reside in this rural outpost in far northwestern Nebraska. The Chadron Record is the newspaper of record in the area. Outside of the obituaries, the most popular feature is "Police Beat," where transcripts of calls to the police dispatcher are published. A selection follows:

Caller from the 900 block of Morehead Street reported that someone had taken three garden gnomes from her location sometime during the night. She described them as plastic, "with chubby cheeks and red hats."

Caller from the 200 block of Morehead Street advised a man was in front of their shop yelling and yodeling. Subject was told to stop yodeling until Oktoberfest.

Caller from the 400 block of Third Street advised that a subject has been calling her and her employees, singing Elvis songs to them.

Caller from the 200 block of Morehead Street advised that a known subject was raising Cain again.

Officer on the 1000 block of West Highway 20 found a known male subject in the creek between Taco John's and Bauerkemper's. Subject was covered in water stating he was protecting his family. Officers gave subject ride home.

Caller on the 900 block of Parry Drive advised a squirrel has climbed down her chimney and is now in the fireplace looking at her through the glass door, chirping at her.

Caller from the 800 block of Pine Street advised that she had just left some one's home and she forgot her jacket, and requested an officer to get her coat.

Caller from the 100 block of North Morehead Street requested to speak to animal control because caller felt that someone was coming into his yard and cutting the hair on his dogs. Dispatch advised caller to set up video surveillance on his house. Caller said he planned on it.

Caller stated that there is a 9-year old boy out mowing the yard and feels that it is endangering the child in doing so when the mother is perfectly capable of doing it herself.

The story is only available through "Times Select," so I cannot provide a link.

The writer notes that "it records those small, true moments lost in the shadows of the large--moments that may not rise to the Olympian heights of newsworthiness, yet still say something about who we are and how we create this thing called community."

So slow down the next time you are going through Chadron. You might even want to stop in at Taco John's or Bauerkemper's. But it might also be wise to avoid the "high-crime area" of Morehead Street.

What Flannery O'Connor Knew

I am always on the lookout for anything that comes along pertaining to Flannery O'Connor. An article in the September issue of Touchstone caught my interest: Writers Cramped, Donald T. Williams on Three Things Evangelical Authors Can Learn from Flannery O'Connor. Williams, an Evangelical author and professor at Toccoa Falls College, ponders why Evangelicals "have not tended to write...anything recognized as having literary value by the literary world." He finds this troubling, particularly in the light of Chesterton, Lewis, Tolkein, Greene, Solzhenitsyn, Percy and O'Connor--all from liturgical churches--whose contributions are acknowledged even by those who do not share their Christian commitment. Williams finds no such luminaries among Evangelicals, challenging the reader to "try to think of a conservative Baptist, a Free or Wesleyan Methodist or a Nazarene, a conservative Presbyterian, a Plymouth Brother, a member of the Evangelical Free Church or the Christian and Missionary Alliance, a Pentecostal, or a member of an independent Bible church who belongs in that company." He can't think of any, and neither can I.

Just to be clear, Williams outlines what constitutes an Evangelical:

I consider an Evangelical to be a person comitted to Nicene and Chalcedonia orthodoxy, a high view of the authority of Scripture, the Reformation doctrice of justificaton by faith alone, and the necessity of personal faith in Christ (and therefore the importance for most people of a personal conversion experience, as long as we do not sterotype it) for salvation.

I find this to be a curious listing. I suspect that the inclusion of Nicene and Chalcedonian orthodoxy is just thrown in for good measure. If you hold to an Evangelical understanding of the authority of Scripture, the Reformation doctrine of justification by faith alone, the Evangelical notion of a non-sacramental, personal conversion experience, you will have some real problems with "Nicene and Chalcedonian orthodoxy," or at least as understood by those who are in fact, orthodox believers. But the Protestant Reformation prism must be retained at all costs, for in the next sentence Williams observes that if committed Evangelicals must give up any of that in order to nurture serious artists and writers, then we are prepared to let art and literature perish from the earth!

Williams believes that Evangelicals can indeed learn from the great Christian writers and their church traditions, which may be then applied to their own "discipling communities." He finds, in Flannery O'Connor particularly, an example for Protestant authors to emulate. O'Connor noted at least 3 ways in which her Catholicism had nutured her art.

First, the Catholic Church provided a "true worldview, encapsulated in dogma, which constituted a lens that brings human nature and human significance into piercing clarity." She knew that one could not simply parrot theology in literature, however. "Your beliefs will be the light by which you see, but they will not be what you see and they will not be a substitute for seeing.”

Second, she received from the Catholic Church "a definition of art that affirmed a spiritual purpose." She noted that "we are not content to stay within our limitations and make something that is simply a good in and by itself. Now we want to make something that will have some utilitarian value. Yet what is good in itself glorifies God because it reflects God." Williams agrees. "That which reflects God may have an evangelistic effect. But if evangelism must be the primary purpose of everything we write, then a lot of God’s character will remain unreflected—which will,ironically, not help the cause of evangelism." Williams complains that for Evangelicals, "fiction can only be justified if it has an overt evangelistic purpose; works of visual art must have a Scripture verse tacked under them."

Finally, O'Connor's fiction was nourished on the sense of mystery within the Catholic Church: "the type of mind that can understand good fiction is . . . the kind of mind that is willing to have its sense of mystery deepened by contact with reality, and its sense of reality deepened by contact with mystery." While Williams acknowledges the role of sacramentalism in relation to mystery, he does not see it as foundational. He does not conclude that a belief in the Real Presence is essential to good writing, but notes that "Evangelicals have too quickly and too often reacted to what they perceive as the abuses of the biblical sacrament in the Mass by relegating the Eucharist to a marginal role in their worship."

While clinging steadfastly to his Reformation prism, Williams is still able to pinpoint an Evangelical shortcoming.

"This cannot be unrelated to the fact that we as a community can seem too much like the generation O’Connor described, 'that has been made to feel that the aim of learning is to eliminate mystery.' Our services, like our fiction, are justified by their efficiency in achieving pragmatic goals. Our sermons are full of practical, easy steps to spiritual victory, a better marriage, or financial success; our music is designed to express comfortable emotions; everything is aimed at maximizing the body count at the altar call. Some of these goals are worth pursuing, but perhaps if abasement before a transcendent deity, felt as such, were one of them, we would produce better Christians and better writers."

Williams concludes that "It is not the distinctive emphases of Evangelical theology, but rather a lack of other emphases, equally biblical, that has kept us from being a community good at nurturing the arts," but this "could be changed without threatening any of the doctrinal emphases that we think we have been right about."

Frankly, I am not convinced. Dr. Williams seems to believe you can just tack-on these "other emphases"--the particular worldview, the appreciation of the spiritual dimension of art, and the mystery of a faith rooted in the sacraments--that are all nourished within the churches of the Apostolic tradition. In my view, these dimensions flourish in the liturgical churches in large part because they are not saddled with Evangelical theology. His reasoning reminds me of the books I read by Dr. Thomas Oden several years ago, as well as, I suppose, Emerging Church guru Brian McLaren's Generous Orthodoxy. But it just doesn't work that way.

From my own experience, I see this clearly demonstrated in realm of prayer. The Evangelical in prayer is one whose head is bowed, eyes closed, concentrating on their personal prayer to God. Even in collective prayers in a large church auditorium, every believer in the room will basically be alone in their personal, private prayer to God. It cannot be otherwise in a faith community that places such all importance on the personal conversion experience, and one's own interpretation of Scripture, etc. It has been said that Orthodox prayer can be personal, but never private. For prayer in this tradition can get a bit crowded. One is standing, eyes open, if in church then surrounded by the icons of the saints, but actually before God at the throne of Heaven, surrounded by the Theotokos, the saints and martyrs, the archangels, cherubim, seraphim--the whole host of Heaven gathered around. In fact, it can get downright crowded. Praying in this manner places one's own pathetic concerns in proper perspective, places one in the celestial community where Heaven and Earth are one, and where you are part and parcel of something much larger than your individual wants and needs. And what Dr. Williams is looking for is all there--the worldview, the beauty of art, the mystery. But these things do not naturally flourish outside their habitat, the Church and its cycle of life and worship.

Read the article, here.

Derbyshire vs. Spencer

Robert Spencer, of Jihad Watch, has recently released his latest book, Religion of Peace? Why Christianity Is and Islam Isn't. This is the latest in a series of titles, the most popular being the Politically Incorrect Guide to Islam (and the Crusades). Spencer has become something of a lightning rod to those on the other side of the argument, eager to make the accusation of "Islamophobia." And admittedly, these titles are, in the tradition of Oriana Fallaci, not exactly subtle works. But it is hard to fault his arguments, or his research. Truth can be an inconvenient thing.

John Derbyshire penned a critical review of the book, which set off a chain of responses between the two writers. Steve Burton comments on the discussion, here. Rod Dreher picks up on it, here, and manages to link to writings of Spengler (always good) and T. S. Eliot (ditto). The exchange is a good window into the ongoing civilizational debate.

Derbyshire's original review can be found, here. I must admit, Derbyshire completely lost me with the following:

Spencer’s more general assumption that our civilization is a child of Christianity can likewise be fairly doubted. Does religion in fact explain anything about history? It is of course impossible to know how different the world would have been if Jesus of Nazareth, or Mohammed, had died in the cradle; but the suspicion lurks that it might not have been very different. Would the Arabs have come surging out of their desert oases in the seventh century without the Prophet and his faith to inspire them? Would Frankish knights have taken ship to recover the Holy Land, if they had not considered it Holy, only a lost province of the Roman Empire? Would white Europeans have developed science and consensual democracy if they had been only white Europeans, not also Christians?

One does not have to be a believer to recognize the civilizational impact of both Christianity and Islam. Not only does religion explain anything in history, it explains most everything in history. I find it almost absurd to argue otherwise.

Spencer responds, here--convincingly, in my book.

Derbyshire's gentlemanly reply can be found, here. He gets off a good line about his own loss of faith:

The rest of what Spencer says seems to be a call to resurrect the Church Militant. I wouldn’t mind that happening myself. The Charlton Heston, Sophia Loren movie of El Cid was a favorite of my teen years; and one of the (lesser) factors that drove me out of Christianity was that wretched and embarrassing “peace” hug—in my case, a squirm. Give me the Cid and Richard the First any time (though not, please, Richard’s hug).

Spencer concludes the exchange, here, which includes the following:

The fact that Mr. Derbyshire considers Christianity preposterous is noted; it may, however, have blinded him to the ways in which he benefits from the civilizational advances it fostered, as well as to the ways in which the propagandistic “equivalence” arguments that are so prevalent nowadays sap the will of Westerners to defend what we are told every day is a rotten, worthless thing.

Fisk on the Armenian Genocide

I suppose you could characterize me as a confirmed Turkophile. My love of the country is tempered, however, by two major reservations: their official policy of continued persecution against the Orthodox Church, and their official denial of the Armenian Genocide. Both policies are a stain on modern Turkey, and it is long past time for their abandonment. Turkey is quick to dismiss accounts of the Genocide as just the propaganda of the Armenian Disapora. It is difficult, however, to make such a charge against Robert Fisk. He has been the Beirut correspondent for The Independent for some 30 years, and is the author of the seminal The Great War for Civilization: The Conquest of the Middle East. Read his recent article on the Armenian Genocide, here.

Emergent Churchism Explained

Thanks to Benedict Seraphim at This is Life for a link to this site. I have followed the trendy Emerging Church Movement with great interest--not attraction mind you, but interest. I sympathize with their obvious dissatisfaction with mainstream Protestantism and/or evangelical Chrisitianity. And yet, their response is depressingly predictable. The Emergents set out to reinvent/rediscover/reform Christianity, one more time, as if this had never been done before.

To understand Emerging Churches, you must familiarize yourself with their vocabulary--internalizing the metanarrative, as they might say. The site above--with tongue firmly planted in cheek--is as good a guide as any I've seen to bone up on all the buzzwords. To my horror, I discovered I had been using one myself (authenticity). A few samples are below, but do check out the site for the rest of the collection. Let me know which ones are your favorites.













































This last one is my favorite, for these folks do hog the good chairs at Starbucks with their Bible Studies.

Evangelicals and Orthodoxy

A recent article in The New Republic is of interest: Evangelicals Turn Toward...The Orthodox Church? In the Land of the Megachurch, this hardly qualifies as a major trend, but the movement is significant enough to attract notice. Read it here.

While it's unlikely that the Orthodox Church--which, according to the best estimate, has only 1.2 million American members--will ever pose any sort of existential threat to evangelical Christianity in the United States, it is significant nonetheless that a growing number of Southern Baptists and Presbyterians and Assemblies of God members have left the evangelical fold, turning to a religion that is not only not American, but not even Western. Their flight signals a growing dissatisfaction among some evangelicals with the state of their churches and their complicated relationship with the modern world.

Also check out Rod Dreher's comments on the story, here.