Last week, I blogged about how we can seek to avoid Jesus by developing a false sense of righteousness. Those who don't think they're ill won't be interested in knowing what the physician has to say.
This week, I came across a poem by Julie Stoner that addresses the same issue. It's from the June/July 2009 issue of First Things. Poetry and I often don't get along, but this one I like:
We ninety-nine obedient sheep; we workers hired at dawn’s first peep; we faithful sons who strive to please, forsaking prodigalities; we virgins who take pains to keep our lamps lit, even in our sleep; we law-abiding Pharisees;
This article came out on September 19, 2008, and I meant to blog about it then, but I've been running way behind. It's about a Gallup study that examined the beliefs of the religious and the irreligious. Guess who turns out to be the most superstitious?
Here's an excerpt from the article, which originally appeared in the Wall Street Journal here. If you want to read the entire article and that link doesn't work for you, try this one.
...The reality is that the New Atheist campaign, by discouraging religion, won't create a new group of intelligent, skeptical, enlightened beings. Far from it: It might actually encourage new levels of mass superstition. And that's not a conclusion to take on faith -- it's what the empirical data tell us.
"What Americans Really Believe," a comprehensive new study released by Baylor University yesterday, shows that traditional Christian religion greatly decreases belief in everything from the efficacy of palm readers to the usefulness of astrology. It also shows that the irreligious and the members of more liberal Protestant denominations, far from being resistant to superstition, tend to be much more likely to believe in the paranormal and in pseudoscience than evangelical Christians.
The Gallup Organization, under contract to Baylor's Institute for Studies of Religion, asked American adults a series of questions to gauge credulity. Do dreams foretell the future? Did ancient advanced civilizations such as Atlantis exist? Can places be haunted? Is it possible to communicate with the dead? Will creatures like Bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster someday be discovered by science?
The answers were added up to create an index of belief in occult and the paranormal. While 31% of people who never worship expressed strong belief in these things, only 8% of people who attend a house of worship more than once a week did.
Even among Christians, there were disparities. While 36% of those belonging to the United Church of Christ, Sen. Barack Obama's former denomination, expressed strong beliefs in the paranormal, only 14% of those belonging to the Assemblies of God, Sarah Palin's former denomination, did. In fact, the more traditional and evangelical the respondent, the less likely he was to believe in, for instance, the possibility of communicating with people who are dead.
This is not a new finding. In his 1983 book "The Whys of a Philosophical Scrivener," skeptic and science writer Martin Gardner cited the decline of traditional religious belief among the better educated as one of the causes for an increase in pseudoscience, cults and superstition. He referenced a 1980 study published in the magazine Skeptical Inquirer that showed irreligious college students to be by far the most likely to embrace paranormal beliefs, while born-again Christian college students were the least likely.
Surprisingly, while increased church attendance and membership in a conservative denomination has a powerful negative effect on paranormal beliefs, higher education doesn't....
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On Oct. 3 [2008], Mr. Maher debuts "Religulous," his documentary that attacks religious belief. He talks to Hasidic scholars, Jews for Jesus, Muslims, polygamists, Satanists, creationists, and even Rael -- prophet of the Raelians -- before telling viewers: "The plain fact is religion must die for man to live."
But it turns out that the late-night comic is no icon of rationality himself. In fact, he is a fervent advocate of pseudoscience. The night before his performance on Conan O'Brien, Mr. Maher told David Letterman -- a quintuple bypass survivor -- to stop taking the pills that his doctor had prescribed for him. He proudly stated that he didn't accept Western medicine. On his HBO show in 2005, Mr. Maher said: "I don't believe in vaccination. . . . Another theory that I think is flawed, that we go by the Louis Pasteur [germ] theory." He has told CNN's Larry King that he won't take aspirin because he believes it is lethal and that he doesn't even believe the Salk vaccine eradicated polio.
Anti-religionists such as Mr. Maher bring to mind the assertion of G.K. Chesterton's Father Brown character that all atheists, secularists, humanists and rationalists are susceptible to superstition: "It's the first effect of not believing in God that you lose your common sense, and can't see things as they are."
Baylor's own summary of its study can be found here.
I like being able to drive at NASCAR-like speeds in my adopted state of Georgia, but overall I have little respect for my roadmates. I don't have to be on the road for long before I see swerving, wrong speeds (too slow/too fast for conditions), running red lights, stopping at flashing yellows, no headlights in the rain, not using turn signals...whatever signs of incompetence you can imagine, you get to see them every day on Atlanta's roads.
Now there's confirmation: it's not just my perception that drivers here are incompetent. GMAC Insurance has administered something called the National Drivers Test in all 50 states and DC. The test is designed to measure knowledge of basic driving laws, and Georgia ranks 47 out of 51. Only California, Hawaii, New Jersey, and New York score lower.
The state where I grew up and took driver's ed, Oregon, ties for 8th place, and that seems about right.
You can read more about the test results and see how your own state scored here.
And if you like, you can take the National Drivers Test, yourself, here.
I took the test. My score? 95%...and the one question they say I got wrong, I know is correct in some states. So I'll take a gentleman's 100%.
Among other subjects, Wood looks at Chesterton's skeptical view of rationalism, materialism, physicalism, and several other -isms, all of them views that end up elevating man beyond where he should be and minimizing God or dismissing Him altogether.
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Wood has this to say in his essay, including a quote from Chesterton:
There are good reasons for being responsible stewards of the environment, but they cannot be derived from the environment itself. Chesterton insists, in fact, that no real ethics can be abstracted from the physical world. It cancels all that it seems to affirm. While democracy declares all men to be worthy, for example, and aristocracy designates some men as worthier, “nature makes no remark on the subject.” Supernatural revelation is required to take a sane view of nature:
The essence of all pantheism, evolutionism, and modern cosmic religion is really this proposition: that Nature is our mother. Unfortunately, if you regard Nature as a mother, you discover that she is a step-mother. The main point of Christianity [is] this: that Nature is not our mother: Nature is our sister. We can be proud of her beauty, since we have the same father; but she has no authority over us; we have to admire but not to imitate. This gives to the typically Christian pleasure in this earth a strange touch of lightness that is almost frivolity. . . . Nature was a solemn mother to Wordsworth and Emerson. But nature is not solemn to Francis of Assisi or to George Herbert. To St. Francis, Nature is a sister, and even a younger sister, to be laughed at as well as loved.
I see the thought process here as having relevance to the tyranny of certain environmentalist views. We are not here to serve the earth, but to serve our Heavenly Father. The earth is here for the very same reason, though obviously without the moral responsibility that humans bear. We are called to be worshipers of God, not idolators of the earth.
But I'll admit, there's something to be said for taking care of your little sister.
At Boston.com, the Boston Globe points out a startling fact or two or three regarding yesterday's Supreme Court nomination:
Judge Sonia Sotomayor has much to distinguish her, but one element of her biography stands out in the world of those interested in religion and the public square: she is Catholic, and, if approved as a Supreme Court justice, she will be the sixth Catholic on the nine-member court. That is a remarkable accomplishment for American Catholics, who make up 23 percent of the nation's population, and will now potentially hold 67 percent of the high court's seats. Two of the justices are Jewish; the resignation of Justice David Souter, who is an Episcopalian, will leave, amazingly given the history of this nation, just one Protestant on the Supreme Court, 89-year-old Justice John Paul Stevens.
What does this work out to?
Catholics represent 2/3 of the Supreme Court seats, but 23% of the population, for a representation ratio of 2.9:1.
Jews are 17% of the Court but 2.1% of the population, for a ratio of 8.1:1.
And Protestants bring up a very small rear: 8% of the Court but something like 50% of the population, for a ratio of 0.16:1.
What of that lone Protestant? Apparently, he leaves it at that, naming no denomination in particular.
To make the equation even more fascinating, of the 103 Justices in the history of the Supreme Court, only 3 have belonged to a denomination that might be called evangelical: they were Baptists. Maybe you could count Huguenots, too, which were sort of evangelical, weren't they? There was one of those (Gabriel Duval, 1811-1835).
So this begets the question: Aside from Jews being so "overrepresented," what is it about Catholics that makes them better Supreme Court material than Protestants? Any why are evangelicals only slightly better represented than Buddhists, Hindus, and Muslims (those three all at zero)?
If I were Catholic, I'd be crowing right now, claiming that the Catholic intellectual tradition is obviously superior to that of the Protestants. I would also say that the anti-intellectualism of contemporary evangelicalism has borne the fruit it deserves.
But I'm Protestant, and evangelical at that, so I'll ask, instead: Where are the brilliant evangelical jurists? Or is such a term a necessary oxymoron?
(An interesting site from which I got many of my statistics is adherents.com.)
The boy didn't need to hear it. There was already a deep black wordless conviction in him that the way to avoid Jesus was to avoid sin.
In her 1952 novel, Wise Blood, Flannery O'Connor provides this description of the protagonist, Hazel (Haze) Motes. In the course of the novel, Motes does everything he can think of to get away from Jesus. In the end, Jesus wins, though it's not entirely clear whether Motes does.
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Regardless of what's going on with Motes, himself, I find the quote above insightful. During Jesus' ministry years, the Pharisees had convinced themselves of their functional sinlessness through observing a set of laws and procedures. As long as they followed those rules, they figured they were OK and didn't need anyone to save them from anything (John 8.33-41). Of course, the temple sacrifices reminded them of sin, but they were always getting forgiveness because they correctly followed all the procedures that were required of them.
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To them, and to us, Jesus said, "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance." Sick people who know they're sick go to the doctor for help. Sinners who know they're sinners go to the Savior for true restoration and forgiveness.
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Hazel Motes tried to avoid Jesus by living a perfect, moral life. When that didn't work for him, he tried denying Jesus' existence altogether. Denying he was sick didn't work, but neither did denying there was a doctor who could detect sickness.
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The best way to avoid Jesus is to avoid sin. As deluded as Motes was, at least he knew he fell short. We, on the other hand, sit in our church pews and sing our cheesy worship songs and delude ourselves into thinking everything's alright...all the time giving nary a thought to the falling short that we do every day in every way, and nary a thought to our inability ever to make it right.
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[My friend David just posted his own blog entry about Flannery O'Connor. Check it out.]
Language changes. I realize that. For example, "nice" used to mean stupid and foolish; now it's a term of praise. Check out this entry from the Online Etymology Dictionary:
"The sense development has been extraordinary, even for an adj." [Weekley] -- from "timid" (pre-1300); to "fussy, fastidious" (c.1380); to "dainty, delicate" (c.1405); to "precise, careful" (1500s, preserved in such terms as a nice distinction and nice and early); to "agreeable, delightful" (1769); to "kind, thoughtful" (1830). In 16c.-17c. it is often difficult to determine exactly what is meant when a writer uses this word. By 1926, it was pronounced "too great a favorite with the ladies, who have charmed out of it all its individuality and converted it into a mere diffuser of vague and mild agreeableness." [Fowler]
"I am sure," cried Catherine, "I did not mean to say anything wrong; but it is a nice book, and why should I not call it so?" "Very true," said Henry, "and this is a very nice day, and we are taking a very nice walk; and you are two very nice young ladies. Oh! It is a very nice word indeed! It does for everything." [Jane Austen, "Northanger Abbey"]
So, words change. Definitions change. I understand that. Sometimes it's nice. Nevertheless, I still get heartburn over what I see happening to the hapless term, "beg the question." We've now reached the point at which even NPR reporters use the term incorrectly.
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What does "beg the question" mean? It means to provide an answer that fails to answer the question which was asked. The means of failure is a lapse in logic, whereby the answer is based on a premise that needs as much proof as the conclusion. For example, if someone said the following, I'd say he's begging the question:
"The right thing to do is to close Guantanamo. Why? Because no self-respecting country would operate such a place. Moving on to my next point, ..."
Begging the question is very close to circular reasoning. In daily use, we might say someone is begging the question if he fails to substantiate an opinion by stating an equally unsubstantiated position:
"Arminians are heretics." "Why do you say that?" "Because they don't believe what the Bible says, and that makes them heretics."
You get the idea. Or maybe you don't. Because if you're like almost everyone I hear - whether in person or over the airwaves - you may be thinking that "beg the question" means "to beget a question," that is, "to raise a question." You might think this is correct usage:
"He said Guantanamo should be closed, which begs the question: What do we do with all the prisoners?"
Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong. It pains me every time I hear such a usage (use?), the moreso when it comes from intelligent persons who ought to know better.
(And yes, I'm well aware of the danger of positioning oneself as a grammar expert. Chances are, I've made three grammatical errors in this blog entry, thereby voiding my credibility. Oh well, as the Germans say, "C'est la vie.")
"Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen."
(Hebrews 11.1)
‘Grace has always the appearance of contradiction. The foundation is faith. For faith is the pillar and possession upon which we are able to plant our feet. But what, in fact, do we possess? Not things that are present, but what is set far distant under our feet – nay more, what is beyond the comprehension of our spirit. Faith is therefore named the evidence of things not seen. But evidence means that things emerge into appearance, and is applicable only to what concerns our senses. In the realm of faith the two apparent opposites – evidence and things not seen – struggle with one another and are united. It is precisely the hidden things, inaccessible to sensible perception, that are displayed by the Spirit of God. He promises eternal life – to those who are dead. He speaks of the blessedness of resurrection – to those who are compassed about with corruption. He pronounces those in whom sin dwells – to be righteous. He calls those oppressed with ceaseless tribulation – blessed. He promises abundance of riches – to those abounding only in hunger and thirst. God cries out to us that He is coming quickly to our aid – and yet He seems deaf to every human cry for help. What, then, would be our fate, were we not powerful in hope, were we not hurrying through the darkness of the world along the road which is enlightened by the Spirit and by the Word of God?’
- John Calvin, as quoted in Karl Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, pp. 19-20
I was filling out an on-line questionnaire from a London arts center the other day. I haven't been to Britain for a few years, but I bought my concert ticket on-line, so they still had my contact info.
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When I got to the end of the questionnaire, they asked the usual demographic questions about age, race, and the like. But I was taken aback somewhat by the list of ethnicity choices. It says something interesting about the difference between Britain and the U.S.
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Here's the list:
Which ethnic group would you describe yourself as being in?
White British
White Irish
White Other
White & Black Caribbean
White & Black African
White & Asian
Other mixed background
Asian British
Indian
Pakistani
Bangladeshi
Other Asian background
Black British
Black Caribbean
Black African
Other Black background
Chinese
Other ethnic group
Prefer not to say
For the first time ever when filling out a questionnaire, I didn't know what race I was. I finally settled on "White Other," which seemingly could leave me Hispanic, Icelandic, or Italian.
A song from Guy Lombardo and the Royal Canadians (vocal by Kenny Gardner and the Lombardo Trio) - circa 1950? See below for lyrics and some thoughts...
You work and work for years and years, you're always on the go You never take a minute off, too busy makin' dough Someday, you say, you'll have your fun, when you're a millionaire Imagine all the fun you'll have in your old rockin' chair
Enjoy yourself, it's later than you think Enjoy yourself, while you're still in the pink The years go by, as quickly as a wink Enjoy yourself, enjoy yourself, it's later than you think
You're gonna take that ocean trip, no matter, come what may You've got your reservations made, but you just can't get away Next year for sure, you'll see the world, you'll really get around But how far can you travel when you're six feet underground?
Your heart of hearts, your dream of dreams, your ravishing brunette She's left you and she's now become somebody else's pet Lay down that gun, don't try, my friend, to reach the great beyond You'll have more fun by reaching for a redhead or a blonde
You never go to nightclubs, and you just don't care to dance You don't have time for silly things like moonlight and romance You only think of dollar bills tied neatly in a stack But when you kiss a dollar bill it doesn't kiss you back
Enjoy yourself, it's later than you think Enjoy yourself, while you're still in the pink The years go by, as quickly as a wink Enjoy yourself, enjoy yourself, it's later than you think
It's true that this song pretty much espouses the philosophy of "Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die," (Isaiah 22.13; 1 Cor. 15.32). It doesn't exactly have an eternal perspective. Nevertheless, it seems to embody a Scriptural truth: enjoyment is God's idea.
Nehemiah said, "Go and enjoy choice food and sweet drinks, and send some to those who have nothing prepared. This day is sacred to our Lord. Do not grieve, for the joy of the LORD is your strength." (Nehemiah 8.10)
Moreover, when God gives any man wealth and possessions, and enables him to enjoy them, to accept his lot and be happy in his work—this is a gift of God. (Ecclesiastes 5.19)
Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment. (1 Timothy 6.17)
The word "enjoy" appears 55 times in the NIV Bible, and almost always in a positive sense. I think God wants us to enjoy life. Of course, enjoyment isn't the only desire He has for us, nor do I think it's the highest, but it clearly seems to be a part of what He has in store for us.
So when you partake of your bowl of yummy pasta, your glass of wine or beer, your cup of coffee, and your cigar, pipe, or hookah, be sure to thank the Giver for the ability He gives us to enjoy them.
A.N. Wilson has had a career as an Oxford teacher, biographer, and much-awarded journalist. In Christian circles, he's perhaps best known for a widely reviled biography of C.S. Lewis.
At the time he wrote about Lewis, Wilson would have called himself an atheist. But over time, he's come back to theism and, apparently, Christ. Here are a few excerpts from a recent article he wrote; it's good enough, though, that you might want to read the whole thing here.
By nature a doubting Thomas, I should have distrusted the symptoms when I underwent a “conversion experience” 20 years ago. Something was happening which was out of character – the inner glow of complete certainty, the heady sense of being at one with the great tide of fellow non-believers. For my conversion experience was to atheism. There were several moments of epiphany, actually, but one of the most dramatic occurred in the pulpit of a church.
At St Mary-le-Bow in the City of London, there are two pulpits, and for some decades they have been used for lunchtime dialogues. I had just published a biography of C S Lewis, and the rector of St Mary-le-Bow, Victor Stock, asked me to participate in one such exchange of views.
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I can remember almost yelling that reading C S Lewis’s Mere Christianity made me a non-believer – not just in Lewis’s version of Christianity, but in Christianity itself. On that occasion, I realised that after a lifetime of churchgoing, the whole house of cards had collapsed for me – the sense of God’s presence in life, and the notion that there was any kind of God, let alone a merciful God, in this brutal, nasty world. As for Jesus having been the founder of Christianity, this idea seemed perfectly preposterous....It was a nonsense, together with the idea of a personal God, or a loving God in a suffering universe. Nonsense, nonsense, nonsense.
It was such a relief to discard it all that, for months, I walked on air. At about this time, the Independent on Sunday sent me to interview Dr Billy Graham, who was conducting a mission in Syracuse, New York State, prior to making one of his journeys to England. The pattern of these meetings was always the same. The old matinee idol spoke. The gospel choir sang some suitably affecting ditty, and then the converted made their way down the aisles to commit themselves to the new faith. Part of the glow was, surely, the knowledge that they were now part of a great fellowship of believers.
As a hesitant, doubting, religious man I’d never known how they felt. But, as a born-again atheist, I now knew exactly what satisfactions were on offer. For the first time in my 38 years I was at one with my own generation. I had become like one of the Billy Grahamites, only in reverse. If I bumped into Richard Dawkins (an old colleague from Oxford days) or had dinner in Washington with Christopher Hitchens (as I did either on that trip to interview Billy Graham or another), I did not have to feel out on a limb. Hitchens was excited to greet a new convert to his non-creed and put me through a catechism before uncorking some stupendous claret. “So – absolutely no God?” “Nope,” I was able to say with Moonie-zeal. “No future life, nothing ‘out there’?” “No,” I obediently replied. At last! I could join in the creed shared by so many (most?) of my intelligent contemporaries in the western world – that men and women are purely material beings (whatever that is supposed to mean), that “this is all there is” (ditto), that God, Jesus and religion are a load of baloney: and worse than that, the cause of much (no, come on, let yourself go), most (why stint yourself – go for it, man), all the trouble in the world, from Jerusalem to Belfast, from Washington to Islamabad.
My doubting temperament, however, made me a very unconvincing atheist. And unconvinced. My hilarious Camden Town neighbour Colin Haycraft, the boss of Duckworth and husband of Alice Thomas Ellis, used to say, “I do wish Freddie [Ayer] wouldn’t go round calling himself an atheist. It implies he takes religion seriously.” This creed that religion can be despatched in a few brisk arguments (outlined in David Hume’s masterly Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion) and then laughed off kept me going for some years. When I found myself wavering, I would return to Hume in order to pull myself together, rather as a Catholic having doubts might return to the shrine of a particular saint to sustain them while the springs of faith ran dry.
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Attractive and amusing as David Hume was, did he confront the complexities of human existence as deeply as his contemporary Samuel Johnson, and did I really find him as interesting?
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A materialist Darwinian was having dinner with me a few years ago and we laughingly alluded to how, as years go by, one forgets names. Eager, as committed Darwinians often are, to testify on any occasion, my friend asserted: “It is because when we were simply anthropoid apes, there was no need to distinguish between one another by giving names.”
This credal confession struck me as just as superstitious as believing in the historicity of Noah’s Ark. More so, really.
Do materialists really think that language just “evolved”, like finches’ beaks, or have they simply never thought about the matter rationally? Where’s the evidence? How could it come about that human beings all agreed that particular grunts carried particular connotations? How could it have come about that groups of anthropoid apes developed the amazing morphological complexity of a single sentence, let alone the whole grammatical mystery which has engaged Chomsky and others in our lifetime and linguists for time out of mind? No, the existence of language is one of the many phenomena – of which love and music are the two strongest – which suggest that human beings are very much more than collections of meat. They convince me that we are spiritual beings, and that the religion of the incarnation, asserting that God made humanity in His image, and continually restores humanity in His image, is simply true. As a working blueprint for life, as a template against which to measure experience, it fits.
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When I think about atheist friends, including my father, they seem to me like people who have no ear for music, or who have never been in love.
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I haven’t mentioned morality, but one thing that finally put the tin hat on any aspirations to be an unbeliever was writing a book about the Wagner family and Nazi Germany, and realising how utterly incoherent were Hitler’s neo-Darwinian ravings, and how potent was the opposition, much of it from Christians; paid for, not with clear intellectual victory, but in blood. Read Pastor Bonhoeffer’s book Ethics, and ask yourself what sort of mad world is created by those who think that ethics are a purely human construct. Think of Bonhoeffer’s serenity before he was hanged, even though he was in love and had everything to look forward to.
My departure from the Faith was like a conversion on the road to Damascus. My return was slow, hesitant, doubting. So it will always be; but I know I shall never make the same mistake again. Gilbert Ryle, with donnish absurdity, called God “a category mistake”. Yet the real category mistake made by atheists is not about God, but about human beings. Turn to the Table Talk of Samuel Taylor Coleridge – “Read the first chapter of Genesis without prejudice and you will be convinced at once . . . ‘The Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life’.” And then Coleridge adds: “‘And man became a living soul.’ Materialism will never explain those last words.
Today's newspaper reports that the Presbyterian Church (USA) has voted once again to reject a measure that would have allowed for sexually active gay clergy in that denomination.
The church rule that remains in effect requires "“fidelity within the covenant of marriage between a man and a woman or chastity in singleness.”
So, is it good news that the measure was defeated? Or is it bad news that 40+% of the presbyteries voted against fidelity in marriage and chastity in singleness?
Siskel and Ebert in the '80s, filming promos for their show. I can't think of a good reason to post this, except that it's really, really funny...unless you hate curse words and mockery and derogation of religion. OK, on second thought, it's not funny at all. Especially the religious stuff that starts around 5:45. Don't watch it. (Siskel on the left is Jewish, Ebert on the right is Catholic.)
I just started reading a new (to me) novel, Flannery O'Connor's The Violent Bear it Away. If it's like the other works of hers I've read, it won't be pleasant, but it may well be unforgettable (try to read her short story "A Good Man is Hard to Find" and then get it out of your head; I dare you).
In any case, here's the first sentence. Have you ever read a better one?
Francis Marion Tarwater's uncle had been dead for only half a day when the boy got too drunk to finish digging his grave and a Negro named Buford Munson, who had come to get a jug filled, had to finish it and drag the body from the breakfast table where it was still sitting and bury it in a decent and Christian way, with the sign of its Saviour at the head of the grave and enough dirt on top to keep the dogs from digging it up.
Once I read that, I was hooked. The next 35 pages have been pretty good, too.
In Luke 9.51-56, James and John ask whether they should call down fire from heaven to destroy a Samaritan village that rejected Jesus. Jesus rebuked them for the suggestion. A.B. Bruce has this to say about that:
Jesus too, all gentle as He was, had His thunderbolts; but He reserved them for other objects than poor, benighted, prejudiced Samaritans. His zeal was directed against great sins, and powerful, privileged, presumptuous sinners; not against little sins, or poor, obscure, vulgar sinners. He burst into indignation at the sight of His Father's house turned into a den of thieves by those who ought to have known, and did know better; He only felt compassion for those who, like the woman by the well, knew not what they worshipped, and groped after God in semi-heathen darkness. His spirit was kindled within Him at the spectacle of ostentatious orthodoxy and piety allied to the grossest worldliness; He did not, like the Pharisee, blaze up in sanctimonious wrath against irreligious publicans, who might do no worship at all, or who, like the heretical Samaritans, did not worship in the right place. Would that zeal like that of Jesus, aiming its bolts at the proud oak and sparing the humble shrub, were more common! But such zeal is dangerous, and therefore it will always be rare.
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James and John...thought themselves actuated by zeal for the glory of their Lord, and so they were in part. But the flame of their zeal was not pure: it was mixed up with the bitter smoke of carnal passions, anger, pride, self-will. Then, again, their spirit was not such as became the apostles of the gospel, the heralds of a new era of grace. They were chosen to preach a message of mercy to every creature, even to the chief of sinners; to tell of a love that suffered not itself to be overcome of evil, but sought to overcome evil with good; to found a kingdom composed of citizens from every nation, wherein should be neither Jew nor Samaritan, but Christ all and in all. What a work to be achieved by men filled with the fire-breathing spirit of the "sons of thunder"! Obviously a great change must be wrought within them to fit them for the high vocation wherewith they have been called. Yet again, the spirit of James and John was, of course, not that of their Master. He "came not to destroy men's lives, but to save them."
Every time I go to Whole Foods, I wonder why I did so. Today, I've concluded that only fools and those who don't know the value of money shop there. (And yes, I'll admit I sometimes do foolish things.)
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Please tell me why I want to spend 20-100% more for the same items I can get in the neighborhood grocery store or at the world's best food purveyor, Trader Joe's. Coffee, beer, produce, cheese, you name it, it's all ridiculously priced. Whole Foods claims they're competitive if you shop carefully. That may be true, if you shop in their dumpster. Otherwise, I just don't see it.
"The fact that fidelity involves a cross, as also the fact that Christ was crucified just because He was righteous, are well understood by Christians when they are a suffering minority, as in primitive ages. But these truths are much lost sight of in peaceful, prosperous times. Then you shall find many holding most sound views of the cross Christ bore for them, but sadly ignorant concerning the cross they themselves have to bear in fellowship with Christ. Of this cross they are determined to know nothing."
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- A.B. Bruce, The Training of the Twelve, p. 185.
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For too many, "discipleship" is something you do in a group once a week. It is not a lifestyle, worldview, or guiding paradigm. Nor a relationship with a Master, for that matter.
There can be no doubt that Jesus spoke plainly enough about His death at least; and yet His death, when it happened, took the disciples as much by surprise as did the resurrection. One explanation suffices in both cases. The disciples were not clever, quick-witted, sentimental men such as Renan makes them. They were stupid, slow-minded persons; very honest, but very unapt to take in new ideas. They were like horses with blinders on, and could see only in one direction, — that, namely, of their prejudices. It required the surgery of events to insert a new truth into their minds. Nothing would change the current of their thoughts but a damwork of undeniable fact. They could be convinced that Christ must die only by His dying, that He would rise only by His rising, that His kingdom was not to be of this world, only by the outpouring of the Spirit at Pentecost and the vocation of the Gentiles. Let us be thankful for the honest stupidity of these men. It gives great value to their testimony. We know that nothing but facts could make such men believe that which nowadays they get credit for inventing.
- A. B. Bruce, The Training of the Twelve, pp. 494-495 (emphasis added)
"THE" Passion hymn, with music arranged by Bach. Lyrics in English and German below. Have a Good Friday.
O sacred Head, now wounded, with grief and shame weighed down, Now scornfully surrounded with thorns, Thine only crown; O sacred Head, what glory, what bliss till now was Thine! Yet, though despised and gory, I joy to call Thee mine.
What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered, was all for sinners’ gain; Mine, mine was the transgression, but Thine the deadly pain. Lo, here I fall, my Savior! ’Tis I deserve Thy place; Look on me with Thy favor, vouchsafe to me Thy grace.
Men mock and taunt and jeer Thee, Thou noble countenance, Though mighty worlds shall fear Thee and flee before Thy glance. How art thou pale with anguish, with sore abuse and scorn! How doth Thy visage languish that once was bright as morn!
Now from Thy cheeks has vanished their color once so fair; From Thy red lips is banished the splendor that was there. Grim death, with cruel rigor, hath robbed Thee of Thy life; Thus Thou hast lost Thy vigor, Thy strength in this sad strife.
My burden in Thy Passion, Lord, Thou hast borne for me, For it was my transgression which brought this woe on Thee. I cast me down before Thee, wrath were my rightful lot; Have mercy, I implore Thee; Redeemer, spurn me not!
What language shall I borrow to thank Thee, dearest friend, For this Thy dying sorrow, Thy pity without end? O make me Thine forever, and should I fainting be, Lord, let me never, never outlive my love to Thee.
My Shepherd, now receive me; my Guardian, own me Thine. Great blessings Thou didst give me, O source of gifts divine. Thy lips have often fed me with words of truth and love; Thy Spirit oft hath led me to heavenly joys above.
Here I will stand beside Thee, from Thee I will not part; O Savior, do not chide me! When breaks Thy loving heart, When soul and body languish in death’s cold, cruel grasp, Then, in Thy deepest anguish, Thee in mine arms I’ll clasp.
The joy can never be spoken, above all joys beside, When in Thy body broken I thus with safety hide. O Lord of Life, desiring Thy glory now to see, Beside Thy cross expiring, I’d breathe my soul to Thee.
My Savior, be Thou near me when death is at my door; Then let Thy presence cheer me, forsake me nevermore! When soul and body languish, oh, leave me not alone, But take away mine anguish by virtue of Thine own!
Be Thou my consolation, my shield when I must die; Remind me of Thy passion when my last hour draws nigh. Mine eyes shall then behold Thee, upon Thy cross shall dwell, My heart by faith enfolds Thee. Who dieth thus dies well.
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O Haupt voll Blut und Wunden,Voll Schmerz und voller Hohn, O Haupt, zum Spott gebunden Mit einer Dornenkron’, O Haupt, sonst schön gezieret Mit höchster Ehr’ und Zier, Jetzt aber höchst schimpfieret; Gegrüßet sei’st du mir!
Du edles Angesichte, Davor sonst schrickt und scheut Das große Weltgewichte, Wie bist du so bespeit! Wie bist du so erbleichet! Wer hat dein Augenlicht, Dem sonst kein Licht nicht gleichet, So schändlich zugericht’t?
Die Farbe deiner Wangen, Der roten Lippen Pracht Ist hin und ganz vergangen; Des blaßen Todes Macht Hat alles hingenommen, Hat alles hingerafft, Und daher bist du kommen Von deines Leibes Kraft.
Nun, was du, Herr, erduldet, Ist alles meine Last; Ich hab’ es selbst verschuldet, Was du getragen hast. Schau her, hier steh’ ich Armer, Der Zorn verdienet hat; Gib mir, o mein Erbarmer, Den Anblick deiner Gnad’!
Erkenne mich, mein Hüter, Mein Hirte, nimm mich an! Von dir, Quell’ aller Güter, Ist mir viel Gut’s getan. Dein Mund hat mich gelabet Mit Mich und süßer Kost; Dein Geist hat mich begabet Mit mancher Himmelslust.
Ich will hier bei dir stehen, Verachte mich doch nicht! Von dir will ich nicht gehen, Wenn dir dein Herze bricht; Wenn dein haupt wird erblaßen Im letzten Todesstoß, Alsdann will ich dich faßen In meinem Arm und Schoß.
Es dient zu meinen Freuden Und kommt mir herzlich wohl, Wenn ich in deinem Leiden, Mein Heil, mich finden soll. Ach, möcht’ ich, o mein Leben, An deinem Kreuze hier Mein Leben von mir geben, Wie wohl geschähe mir!
Ich danke dir von Herzen, O Jesu, liebster Freund, Für deines Todes Schmerzen, Da du’s so gut gemeint. Ach gib, daß ich mich halte Zu dir und deiner Treu’ Und, wenn ich nun erkalte, In dir mein Ende sei!
Wann ich einmal soll scheiden, So scheide nicht von mir, Wenn ich den Tod soll leiden, So tritt du dann herfür; Wenn mir am allerbängsten Wird um das Herze sein, So reiß mich aus den Ängsten Kraft deiner Angst und Pein!
Erscheine mir zum Schilde, Zum Trost in meinem Tod, Und laß mich sehn dein Bilde In deiner Kreuzesnot! Da will ich nacht dir blicken, Da will ich glaubensvoll Dich fest an mein Herz drücken. Wer so stirbt, der stirbt wohl.
A man devoid of faith, like Judas, needs something to sustain him, to nourish his emotional life, and most men in this position boast of their practical side. Judas was practical.
This book was written in 1957, and I read it almost 30 years ago. This is the one line in the entire book that has stuck with me over the years.
I'm rereading the book this week, and I still like the comment about Judas. Not to put too fine a point on it, but I do pride myself on my practicality. Keeping things in order and under control does in some way nourish my emotional life.
There's no sin in being practical. The entire book of Proverbs certainly recommends it. The problem comes when practicality takes the place of faith. And that happens often in my prayer life. I tend to ask only for that which, in my eyes, has a reasonable expectation of happening, something whose means of fulfillment I can map out, "if only God will give a little nudge here and here."
I'm guessing a person of faith will focus more on what God can do than on what is practical, feasible, and doable. Certainly, He who creates ex nihilo will have a few tricks up His sleeve!
A practical man can simulate service to the Master without ever actually having to relate to Him. A practical man takes initiative and leads to where he thinks things should go, maybe along the way asking the Master to endorse the effort. A man of faith meets with the Master and receives instructions, then follows.
[D]oubtless Judas took part in this Galilean mission, and, for aught we know to the contrary, was as successful as his fellow-disciples in casting out devils. Graceless men may for a season be employed as agents in promoting the work of grace in the hearts of others. Usefulness does not necessarily imply goodness, according to the teaching of Christ Himself.
What kind of man was Judas? According to A.B. Bruce,
Supposing Judas to have been chosen to the apostleship on the ground of apparent fitness, what manner of man would that imply? A vulgar, conscious hypocrite, seeking some mean by-end, while professedly aiming at a higher? Not necessarily; not probably. Rather such an one as Jesus indirectly described Judas to be when He made the reflection: "If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do them." The false disciple was a sentimental, plausible, self-deceived pietist, who knew and approved the good, though not conscientiously practicing it; one who, in aesthetic feeling, in fancy, and in intellect, had affinities for the noble and the holy, while in will and in conduct he was the slave of base, selfish passions; one who, in the last resource, would always put self uppermost, yet could zealously devote himself to well-doing when personal interests were not compromised--in short, what the Apostle James calls a two-minded man [James 1.8].
In thus describing Judas, we draw not the picture of a solitary monster. Men of such a type are by no means so rare as some may imagine. History, sacred and profane, supplies numerous examples of them, playing an important part in human affairs. Balaam, who had the vision of a prophet and the soul of a miser, was such a man. Robespierre, the evil genius of the French Revolution, was another. The man who sent thousands to the guillotine had in his younger days resigned his office as a provincial judge, because it was against his conscience to pronounce sentence of death on a culprit found guilty of a capital offence. A third example, more remarkable than either, may be found in the famous Greek Alcibiades, who, to unbounded ambition, unscrupulousness, and licentiousness, united a warm attachment to the greatest and best of the Greeks. The man who in after years betrayed the cause of his native city, and went over to the side of her enemies, was in his youth an enthusiastic admirer and disciple of Socrates.
[In the footnote about James 1.8, which refers to a "double-minded man, unstable in all he does," Bruce says this means] a man with two minds; not one real, the other feigned, but with two minds both real so far as they go, only the wrong mind strongest, and ultimately prevailing.
My old passport was nearing its expiration date, so I sent off for a new one. Mindful of last year's processing bottlenecks, I paid the extra $60 for expedited handling. And that's what I got; the new passport arrived exactly 1 week after I sent in the paperwork.
That's the good part.
What I actually received is a nightmare. Have you seen the design of the new passports? I'll be embarrassed to flash that thing on any foreign border. It used to be that passport pages were demure backgrounds for the visas and stamps you'd get while travelling. Now, the passport has been turned into a gaudy picturebook, complete with quotations from historical Americans, the national anthem, and the constitution. How those poor border guards are supposed to find a place to put their stamps, or how anyone is supposed to be able to read them against the dark, intense background colors, is beyond me.
Reportedly, the design was approved by Secretary of State Colin Powell. All I can think is that he signed off on this travesty only after he had already decided to resign. It must have been his way of getting even with the administration that he felt had mistreated him.
The new passport comes with its own name: “American Icon.” It’s hard to think of one that was left out. (NY Times)
“There is also something a little coercive about a functional object serving as a civics lesson, even a fairly low-grade civics lesson.” (NY Times)
Apparently, someone forgot that passports are mainly meant to be read by, you know, foreigners. Plastered like a NASCAR vehicle with cheeseball patriotic clip-art that might have been swiped from the Colbert Report's opening credits, the new books spill jingoism the way traveling Americans once spilled hard currency.Fair enough, given the administration that introduced the new passports. Unfortunately, where the Bushies once excelled at logos and backdrops, the redesign is also hideously, hideously ugly. (Design Cultures Blog)
The passport's subsequent pages--the ones that are supposed to be used for foreign visas and entry stamps--follow along with illustrations as predictable as a junior-high American-history project. Cacti! Mountains! Independence Hall! A gargantuan rendering of the Liberty Bell! The whole romantic panoply, from coast to coast. (Design Cultures Blog)
Where did the designer go after this project? Apparently, he moved on to the Acura TL redesign.
First off, this is not a joke...though it is funny in its own way. See why this Saudi cleric thinks Mickey Mouse should be exterminated (90 seconds):
And from much more liberal Kuwait, we learn the danger of massage parlors and hair salons. Notice the undocumented statistics and the utter ignorance ("Do women get massages, too?). This one will take you almost 6 minutes, but you'll be riveted:
A.B. Bruce was a Scottish pastor and professor in the 19th Century. He wrote a classic about how Jesus trained his disciples, called, appropriately enough, The Training of the Twelve. In this book Bruce takes a chronological/ episodic approach, rather than a systematic or topical one, which may help to explain why the book is 550 pages long.
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Bruce treats the disciples as real people, not as caricatures or buffoons. Throughout this work, he shows himself as one who clearly has soaked himself in the Word and meditated on it deeply.
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In the following passage, he talks about the difference between apparent church growth and lasting Church growth. "Rousing the masses" can never replace training the few:
Where there is no obvious excitement, the church in [the view of some] is dead, and her ministry inefficient. Such [people] need to be reminded that there were two religious movements going on in the days of the Lord Jesus. One consisted in rousing the mass out of the stupor of indifference; the other consisted in the careful, exact training of men already in earnest, in the principles and truths of the divine kingdom. Of the one movement the disciples, that is, both the twelve and the seventy, were the agents; of the other movement they were the subjects. And the latter movement, though less noticeable, and much more limited in extent, was by far more important than the former; for it was destined to bring forth fruit that should remain—to tell not merely on the present time, but on the whole history of the world. The deep truths which the great Teacher was now quietly and unobservedly, as in the dark, instilling into the minds of a select band, the recipients of His confidential teaching were to speak in the broad daylight ere long ; and the sound of their voice would not stop till it had gone through all the earth. There would have been a poor outlook for the kingdom of heaven if Christ had neglected this work, and given Himself up entirely to vague evangelism among the masses.
- A.B. Bruce (1831-1899), The Training of the Twelve, p. 107
The entire book can be read or even downloaded at Google books.
Is Facebook a gamechanger that's expanding our network of friends? Is it fundamentally changing how we relate to others...and how many others we relate to? Maybe not.
From the February 28 issue of The Economist(excerpts):
That Facebook, Twitter and other online social networks will increase the size of human social groups is an obvious hypothesis, given that they reduce a lot of the friction and cost involved in keeping in touch with other people. Once you join and gather your “friends” online, you can share in their lives as recorded by photographs, “status updates” and other titbits, and, with your permission, they can share in yours. Additional friends are free, so why not say the more the merrier?
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Several years ago, therefore, Robin Dunbar, an anthropologist who now works at Oxford University, concluded that the cognitive power of the brain limits the size of the social network that an individual of any given species can develop. Extrapolating from the brain sizes and social networks of apes, Dr Dunbar suggested that the size of the human brain allows stable networks of about 148. Rounded to 150, this has become famous as “the Dunbar number”.
Many institutions, from neolithic villages to the maniples of the Roman army, seem to be organised around the Dunbar number. ... But that does not prove Dr Dunbar’s hypothesis is correct....
The rise of online social networks, with their troves of data, might shed some light on these matters. So The Economist asked Cameron Marlow, the “in-house sociologist” at Facebook, to crunch some numbers. Dr Marlow found that the average number of “friends” in a Facebook network is 120, consistent with Dr Dunbar’s hypothesis, and that women tend to have somewhat more than men. But the range is large, and some people have networks numbering more than 500, so the hypothesis cannot yet be regarded as proven.
What also struck Dr Marlow, however, was that the number of people on an individual’s friend list with whom he (or she) frequently interacts is remarkably small and stable. The more “active” or intimate the interaction, the smaller and more stable the group.
Thus an average man—one with 120 friends—generally responds to the postings of only seven of those friends by leaving comments on the posting individual’s photos, status messages or “wall”. An average woman is slightly more sociable, responding to ten. When it comes to two-way communication such as e-mails or chats, the average man interacts with only four people and the average woman with six. Among those Facebook users with 500 friends, these numbers are somewhat higher, but not hugely so. Men leave comments for 17 friends, women for 26. Men communicate with ten, women with 16.
What mainly goes up, therefore, is not the core network but the number of casual contacts that people track more passively. This corroborates Dr Marsden’s ideas about core networks, since even those Facebook users with the most friends communicate only with a relatively small number of them.
Put differently, people who are members of online social networks are not so much “networking” as they are “broadcasting their lives to an outer tier of acquaintances who aren’t necessarily inside the Dunbar circle,” says Lee Rainie, the director of the Pew Internet & American Life Project, a polling organisation. Humans may be advertising themselves more efficiently. But they still have the same small circles of intimacy as ever.
Last night, I went to hear Bishop V. Gene Robinson speak at the Emory Law School. If you don't already know, Robinson is the gay Episcopal bishop of New Hampshire whose ordination has been a catalyst for schism within the Anglican Communion. For better or worse - and I believe worse - Robinson is a history-changer. He's not a "celebrity" like Britney Spears, but he will be remembered in the history books, possibly for centuries, while Britney won't even merit a footnote.
Despite arriving half an hour early, I found no seats available in the auditorium. But caught up in a last minute scrum, I somehow ended up in the front row - a great place for a view, but not so great if you're not going to applaud (I didn't) or give him three standing ovations (I didn't give him even one). Awkward, indeed. At least I didn't hurl tomatoes, or invective.
And it was draining. When it was all over, I felt like I do after a long, tense, enervating movie.
Robinson spoke for maybe 45 minutes, then had a short colloquy with a fawning Harvard professor, then took several questions from the audience. It's not surprising that Robinson likens his situation to that of the campaigners for black civil rights or equal rights for women. He accuses himself of racism and misogyny, which I guess is designed to provide a foundation for accusing those who oppose him of heterosexism (he said he avoids the term homophobia). Victimhood is a strangely comforting position to be in for many, Robinson apparently included.
I won't attempt a detailed recap of his talk or the questions. In some ways, the non-sex-related comments he made were the most illuminating. They certainly explain how he can arrive at the conclusion that it's just fine with God if you are a practicing homosexual. Here are some statements I found "interesting:"
"I do not believe that Jesus is the sole revelation of God to man." Other faith communities are also OK to God.
Homosexual behavior is "not immoral, sick, disordered, misguided."
"You can't find too many definite proclamations in Scripture," so people an use the Bible to say anything. We have a "flawed understanding" of such Biblical words as "abomination."
"I believe the Scriptures to be the Word of God, but not the words of God."
Jesus is God's highest revelation. The Bible isn't. [But how do we know anything about Jesus apart from the Bible?]
Jesus said, "I will send the Holy Spirit to lead you into all truth." The truth the Spirit is leading us to now is that gays and women deserve "full inclusion."
Regarding divorce and remarriage: "In spite of the explicit injunction against it from the mouth of Jesus Himself," the Holy Spirit has led us to accept divorced people who remarry. [Thus the Spirit can contradict Jesus.]
Straight Christians focus on homosexuals so they won't need to deal with their own sexual issues. [He doesn't know the straight Christians I know!]
"It is time that Christians and Jews actually read the holy Scriptures." [The old canard. Besides myself, I know plenty of Christians who have read the Bible several times through and arrive at conclusions very different from Robinson's.]
"I helped start a group for 12-21 year old [gay] teens."
"People who oppose me are only believing what they were taught." [None of his opponents has carefully studied the matter?]
His advice to gay Catholic priests is that the ordination of women is a good first step on the way toward the full inclusion of homosexuals.
"There are as many sexualities as there are human beings."
"God is omni-vulnerable."
There was more, of course, but the above gives you a good flavor of the evening. One thing I listened carefully for, and didn't hear, is any suggestion that whether we're gay or straight, we're called to be continent (i.e., celibate) until marriage or something roughly equivalent. Robinson himself is in a committed relationship and has a "spouse," but at no time did he suggest that spousal fidelity should be normative. He'd lose a lot of gay supporters if he were to advocate such a position, and I still wouldn't agree with him, but I think his position would be much easier to defend. As it is, it comes across more like, "People should be free to do what they want to do, as long as it's loving (and not child abuse or other things I don't think are OK)." That position is intellectual mush, no matter how palatable you make it.
And Bishop Robinson does know how to make heresy palatable. He is witty and winsome. He presents a persona that's hard to dislike, and some of his humor is top-notch. His captor the devil is a liar, and though the Bible doesn't say it, I expect he knows some good jokes, too.
It's late and I need to sleep. But first: If you live in or near Atlanta, do yourself a big, big favor and go see Jesus Christ Superstar GOSPEL at the Alliance Theatre before it ends on February 22. I went tonight, and it was amazing. Phenomenal. The acting is perfect. The singing is beyond perfect. The choreography surprising. The overall effect overwhelming.
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Jesus Christ Superstar was originally a 70s rock opera, and in the unlikely event that you saw the movie version, you may have found it bordering on the blasphemous. But now it's found its home after being reworked as a (Black) Gospel piece, and except for maybe two lines in the whole thing, it's better than any passion play I've ever seen, and in some ways touched me more deeply than Gibson's Passion of the Christ. You may not like it quite that much, but if you don't go, you'll never know. I know I'm in good company, though: check out the review in the AJC.
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And here's the good news about JCS GOSPEL: you may be able to get discount tickets on the day of the show. Just check AtlanTix here any day after 8:00 a.m. for the current day's deals. But even if you have to empty the piggy bank and pay full price, it's worth it.
In all the inaugural excitement, you may have missed the Chia Obama. Thankfully, it's not too late to order. Check it out here, then place your order and contribute to the Greening of America.
"I urge, then, first of all, that requests, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for everyone— for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness. This is good, and pleases God our Savior, who wants all men to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth."
Tomorrow we will inaugurate a new president, and the inauguration will be followed by a parade. You may never have thought about this, but there are several parades in the Bible. For now, let's just look at one:
"But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him" (2 Cor. 2.14).
For years, I've read the verse and heard perhaps the occasional sermon touching on it. But where does this term "triumphal procession" come from, and what does it really mean?
A while back, I read a novel by Robert Harris entitled Imperium. It takes place in the time of Cicero, Pompey, and Julius Caesar, roughly 50 years before the birth of Christ. From Wikipedia, I learned that a Triumph was "a civil ceremony and religious rite of ancient Rome, held to publicly honour the military commander of a notably successful foreign war or campaign and to display the glories of Roman victory....The [parade] route would be lined with cheering crowds who would shower the triumphator with flowers."
Here's a passage from Imperium about Pompey's triumphal return to Rome. It's a bit lengthy, but read it with an eye toward Christ's triumphal procession that Paul mentioned in 2 Corinthians. Where do we fit in this parade?
The twenty-ninth duly arrived, and what a day it was! Rome had not seen such a spectacle since the days of Sulla. As I waited by the Triumphal Gate it seemed that everyone had turned out to line the route. First to pass through the gate from the Field of Mars was the entire body of the Senate, including Cicero, walking on foot, led by the consuls and the other magistrates. Then the trumpeters, sounding the fanfares. Then the carriages and litters laden with the spoils of the Spanish war – gold and silver, coin and bullion, weapons, statues, pictures, vases, furniture, precious stones, and tapestries – and wooded models of the cities Pompey had conquered and sacked, and placards with their names, and the names of all the famous men he had killed in battle.
Then the massive, plodding white bulls, destined for sacrifice, with gilded horns hung with ribbons and floral garlands, driven by the slaughtering priests. Then trudging elephants – the heraldic symbol of the Metelli – and lumbering oxcarts bearing cages containing the wild beasts of the Spanish mountains, roaring and tearing at their bars in rage. Then the arms and insignia of the beaten rebels, and then the prisoners themselves, the defeated followers of Sertorius and Perperna, shuffling in chains. Then the crowns and tributes of the allies, borne by the ambassadors of a score of nations. Then the twelve lictors of the imperator, their rods and axes wreathed in laurel.
And now at last, to a tumult of applause from the vast crowd, the four white horses of the imperator’s chariot came trotting through the gate, and there was Pompey himself, in the barrel-shaped, gem-encrusted chariot of the triumphator. He wore a gold-embroidered robe with a flowered tunic. In his right hand he held a laurel bough and in his left a scepter. There was a wreath of Delphic laurel on his head, and his handsome face and muscled body had been painted with red lead, for on this day he truly was the embodiment of Jupiter. Standing beside him was his eight-year-old son, the golden-curled Gnaeus, and behind him a public slave to whisper in his ear that he was only human and all this would pass.
Behind the chariot, riding on a black warhorse, came old Metellus Pius, his leg tightly bandaged, evidence of a wound incurred in battle. Next to him was Scipio, his adopted son – a handsome young fellow of twenty-four: no wonder, I thought, that Lepida preferred him to Cato – and then the legionary commanders, including Aulus Gabinius, followed by all the knights and cavalry, armor glinting in the pale December sun. And finally the legions of Pompey’s infantry, in full marching order, thousands upon thousands of sunburnt veterans, the crash of their tramping boots seeming to shake the very earth, roaring at the top of their voices “Io Triumphe!” and changing hymns to the gods and singing filthy songs about their commander in chief, as they were traditionally permitted to do in this, the hour of his glory.
It took half the morning for them all to pass, the procession winding through the streets toward the Forum, where, according to tradition, as Pompey ascended the steps of the Capitol to sacrifice before the Temple of Jupiter, his most eminent prisoners were lowered into the depths of the Carcer and garroted – for what could be more fitting than that the day which ended the military authority of the conqueror should also end the lives of the conquered?
This is most likely the picture Paul had in mind when he wrote his second letter to the Corinthians. As glorious as it is, I'm guessing Christ's triumphal procession will put Pompey's - and Obama's - to shame . . . and nobody will be whispering in His ear that He is only human and all this will pass.
