I'm starting to wonder if we've truly moved into a "post-modern" age. The current obsession with "the margins," to regurgitate the Derridean metaphor, appears to me more and more like a continuation of the Romantics' infatuation with le bon sauvage. In the narratives of these latter-day Rousseauians, the championed always seem to be exotic in some way or other, the current favorites being non-white, non-Christian immigrants of various types, who are seen (accurately, I'm afraid) as naturally subversive of whatever vestiges of Western Christendom remain. In the NY Times article below, notice how the perspective of the long-time area residents is not even considered except as an object of ridicule. Apparently, the continuation of any kind of coherent, traditional identity, even of the most general kind, is not something that is to be permitted these benighted folks, who labor under the delusion that it is "their" community. One wonders, though, if this "more-diverse-than-thou" snobbery would be sustained if the "Fugees" were relocated to Upper Manhattan instead of suburban Atlanta.
http://www.nytimes.com/2007/01/21/us/21fugees.html?pagewanted=2&_r=1&ref=todayspaper
Monday, January 22, 2007
Friday, January 19, 2007
Frenchify Me
American Francophobia is perhaps an understandable phenomenon, particularly given the general attitude of the French towards Americans. For my own part, however, I tend to harbor an inexplicable and utterly unfounded Francophilia. Perhaps that is simply another instance of my unprincipled contrarianism manifesting itself; I prefer to think of it as a continuation of my interest in high civilization. Whatever my motive, the fact remains that I actually know very little of French culture. I have never seen Paris, I have never read Proust, and I don’t parlay voo anything at all.
I have been wishing recently that I parlay vooed a lot. I have made a belated discovery of Pascal’s Pensees, and my admiration is without limit. Insert here [] the usual remarks on genius, prescience, etc. Those banal accolades would merely obscure the uniqueness of the work’s achievement. Insert here [] the usual accompanying regret that it was never completed.
What has chiefly piqued my interest so far (I have not yet finished reading the Pensees) is what I would call Pascal’s argument from original sin. Oddly enough for his age (mid-seventeenth century), Pascal found most of the usual arguments for Christianity insubstantial and ineffective. He thought, for example, that the old favorite, the teleological argument (the argument from design), was burdened with too much counter-evidence to be conclusive. (That is likely the case, no matter how frequently it is revived.) However, he believed that conclusive evidence for the truth of the Christian religion could be found in the explanatory power of its doctrine of original sin. According to Pascal, no other perspective, whether religious or philosophical, can sufficiently account for what he calls man’s simultaneous “wretchedness and greatness.” He found that, in the nature of the case, all other known explanations emphasized one or the other aspect of the post-lapsarian human condition, rendering them hopelessly one-sided.
Pascal believed not only that he could prove original sin simply from the now-existing human condition, but that his triumph would then evidence the logical need for a redeemer, who could be none other than Christ. (Those who find all of this hopelessly optimistic should refer to the Pensees for all the epistemological qualifications made there.) To him, the essence of the Christian religion consisted in two propositions: man is fallen and Christ has come to redeem him. The first step of his apologia would be to demonstrate the former.
Obviously, this all seems rather quaint in an age when one is hard-pressed even to convince practicing Christians of the reality of original sin. The venerable doctrine has fallen into such ill repute that one finds it cropping up repeatedly as a sort of universal punchline demonstrating the woeful ignorance of past ages. It’s the anti-religionist’s version of phlogiston. However, isn’t Pascal correct to say that the core of the Evangel is contained in his two propositions? And isn’t his insight into the insufficiency of alternative explanations still valid? (Think of the Freudian explanation of the greatness of man, or the Nietzchean explanation of man’s weakness for more contemporary examples.) Pascal’s argument from original sin merits the sort of attention that Plantinga and others have recently given to the ontological argument. Maybe then the sunny day will dawn when we can all be lost again; after that, we might even regain the hope of being found.
I have been wishing recently that I parlay vooed a lot. I have made a belated discovery of Pascal’s Pensees, and my admiration is without limit. Insert here [] the usual remarks on genius, prescience, etc. Those banal accolades would merely obscure the uniqueness of the work’s achievement. Insert here [] the usual accompanying regret that it was never completed.
What has chiefly piqued my interest so far (I have not yet finished reading the Pensees) is what I would call Pascal’s argument from original sin. Oddly enough for his age (mid-seventeenth century), Pascal found most of the usual arguments for Christianity insubstantial and ineffective. He thought, for example, that the old favorite, the teleological argument (the argument from design), was burdened with too much counter-evidence to be conclusive. (That is likely the case, no matter how frequently it is revived.) However, he believed that conclusive evidence for the truth of the Christian religion could be found in the explanatory power of its doctrine of original sin. According to Pascal, no other perspective, whether religious or philosophical, can sufficiently account for what he calls man’s simultaneous “wretchedness and greatness.” He found that, in the nature of the case, all other known explanations emphasized one or the other aspect of the post-lapsarian human condition, rendering them hopelessly one-sided.
Pascal believed not only that he could prove original sin simply from the now-existing human condition, but that his triumph would then evidence the logical need for a redeemer, who could be none other than Christ. (Those who find all of this hopelessly optimistic should refer to the Pensees for all the epistemological qualifications made there.) To him, the essence of the Christian religion consisted in two propositions: man is fallen and Christ has come to redeem him. The first step of his apologia would be to demonstrate the former.
Obviously, this all seems rather quaint in an age when one is hard-pressed even to convince practicing Christians of the reality of original sin. The venerable doctrine has fallen into such ill repute that one finds it cropping up repeatedly as a sort of universal punchline demonstrating the woeful ignorance of past ages. It’s the anti-religionist’s version of phlogiston. However, isn’t Pascal correct to say that the core of the Evangel is contained in his two propositions? And isn’t his insight into the insufficiency of alternative explanations still valid? (Think of the Freudian explanation of the greatness of man, or the Nietzchean explanation of man’s weakness for more contemporary examples.) Pascal’s argument from original sin merits the sort of attention that Plantinga and others have recently given to the ontological argument. Maybe then the sunny day will dawn when we can all be lost again; after that, we might even regain the hope of being found.
Saturday, January 06, 2007
Osama Is My Hero
No, really, he is. Not that I can tolerate Muslims, respect Islam, reverence the Quran, or appreciate Mohammed and/or Allah; I consider that Islam and Islamists receive more than sufficient butt-kissing from the elites of what used to be Christendom. However, Osama bin Laden does provoke my admiration, and not because I think that his violence is a justifiable reaction to Western imperialism. I admire Osama bin Laden because he represents a vital, all-encompassing religious and political vision within his tradition. I wish his tradition the perdition it deserves and will eventually receive, but at the same time I am quite jealous. Where in the remnants of Christendom is there Osama’s counterpart?
Osama bin Laden espouses an orthodox version of mainstream (Sunni) Islam, which naturally includes an adherence to Islamic (Sharia) law, but he goes beyond the expected parameters of Islamic Revival thinking and also advocates the return of the Caliphate. His agitations have as their goal the reestablishment of a unified Islamic superstate under the leadership of the Caliph (supreme leader). It’s the rough equivalent of a French intellectual advocating the restoration of the Holy Roman Empire with both its ecclesiastical and political institutions reinstituted. As laughable as that seems, bin Laden has managed to spread his vision (and his organization) across the Arab world, and has managed to arrest the continuing theoretical, political, religious, and military attention of the West. He’s a devout, articulate intellectual who can organize and execute (pun intended) in an amazingly effective fashion.
As an orthodox Calvinist, I wish that there were a Presbyterian al Qaeda. Not for the violence, of course; remember that I’m a Christian, not a Turk. But as an alienated person in the post-Christian, post-industrial West, I long for the kind of leadership that someone like bin Laden provides. In the United States, we have a vital but nonetheless hopelessly confused Christian Right. What Presbyterian would go to war for D. James Kennedy or R.C. Sproul? Again, not that violence is a kind of litmus test for inspiring leadership, but the fact remains that there is a huge void when it comes to Christian leadership, especially Protestant leadership. This is an age of dwarfs, of little men in coats who perpetuate the achievements of their forbears. I long for the day when a Burke or an Anselm or a Knox or a Calvin will arrive again.
Osama bin Laden espouses an orthodox version of mainstream (Sunni) Islam, which naturally includes an adherence to Islamic (Sharia) law, but he goes beyond the expected parameters of Islamic Revival thinking and also advocates the return of the Caliphate. His agitations have as their goal the reestablishment of a unified Islamic superstate under the leadership of the Caliph (supreme leader). It’s the rough equivalent of a French intellectual advocating the restoration of the Holy Roman Empire with both its ecclesiastical and political institutions reinstituted. As laughable as that seems, bin Laden has managed to spread his vision (and his organization) across the Arab world, and has managed to arrest the continuing theoretical, political, religious, and military attention of the West. He’s a devout, articulate intellectual who can organize and execute (pun intended) in an amazingly effective fashion.
As an orthodox Calvinist, I wish that there were a Presbyterian al Qaeda. Not for the violence, of course; remember that I’m a Christian, not a Turk. But as an alienated person in the post-Christian, post-industrial West, I long for the kind of leadership that someone like bin Laden provides. In the United States, we have a vital but nonetheless hopelessly confused Christian Right. What Presbyterian would go to war for D. James Kennedy or R.C. Sproul? Again, not that violence is a kind of litmus test for inspiring leadership, but the fact remains that there is a huge void when it comes to Christian leadership, especially Protestant leadership. This is an age of dwarfs, of little men in coats who perpetuate the achievements of their forbears. I long for the day when a Burke or an Anselm or a Knox or a Calvin will arrive again.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Those Provincial Scientists
[click post title for NY Times article]
Breaking news from the NY Times' science page: Neo-Darwinian scientists believe in scientific materialism, including a crass form of determinism! Gasp! This could launch a new phase in the Culture Wars! How will the backward religionists respond to this? No one knows! Will organized religion survive this new assault? Stay tuned for more, er, developments!
With all due disrespect to the scientific community and the staff of the Times, this is very, very old news. Unfortunately, it seems that physics and journalism majors don't receive the liberal arts background that would allow them to know this. However, we enlightened humanist elites will smugly bear with their backwardness, lack of sophistication, and general ignorance. After all, they're only scientists and journalists. With the specialization required by today's disciplines, one can't expect such professionals to be familiar with the commonplaces of Western intellectual history, can one? But, just possibly, one should fault them for wondering what the effect of materialistic determinism might be on Christianity. One does assume, after all, that these people read the news.
Breaking news from the NY Times' science page: Neo-Darwinian scientists believe in scientific materialism, including a crass form of determinism! Gasp! This could launch a new phase in the Culture Wars! How will the backward religionists respond to this? No one knows! Will organized religion survive this new assault? Stay tuned for more, er, developments!
With all due disrespect to the scientific community and the staff of the Times, this is very, very old news. Unfortunately, it seems that physics and journalism majors don't receive the liberal arts background that would allow them to know this. However, we enlightened humanist elites will smugly bear with their backwardness, lack of sophistication, and general ignorance. After all, they're only scientists and journalists. With the specialization required by today's disciplines, one can't expect such professionals to be familiar with the commonplaces of Western intellectual history, can one? But, just possibly, one should fault them for wondering what the effect of materialistic determinism might be on Christianity. One does assume, after all, that these people read the news.
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