This influence stems from the tremendous import of the question and from the significant implications of its answer. The question of God's existence is immeasurably infuential because whether or not God exists in reality determines whether or not there is any ultimate meaning, purpose, or value to life. Furthermore, it is through a person's belief or disbelief in God that all convictions and life principles are formed or not formed.

Human beings, as rational creatures, want to know if God exists. This desire stems from the longing to answer other essential questions such as: What is ultimately imporatant? To what should I give my life? Is there anything worth dying for? What happens to me when I die? Or are there objectively right, wrong, good, or bad actions? These questions exemplify the clearly identifiable human need to define the "good life" and to know what is really significant. At the end of the day, all other quesstions pale in significance to the question of the reality of God; for the answer to this question affects every aspect of life.

At this point in my blogging career, I can't think of a more significant and appropriate topic to write on and encourage others to think on. Therefore, for the next few posts I hope to show that the proposition "God exists" as opposed to its opposite is most reasonable. The following posts will will seek to show evidence which "proves" that God is real; that the propostion "God Exists" is true and therefore that the belief in God is actually more reasonable and justified than unbelief.

I hope you are encouraged in your search for the True, the Good, and the Beautiful.

In 2006, a group of college students claiming to represent the new generation of young evangelicals arrived in Washington D.C. to lobby Congress on global warming.

According to one student, “Responding to human-induced climate change is a moral issue. For us, it's about following Christ and being obedient to His word. As young evangelicals, we hope that our government leaders will tackle the challenge of reducing global warming pollution.”

Activist Peter Illyn from a group called Restoring Eden led the delegation. His words for evangelicals were “It's time to have a bigger gospel. It's time to have a bigger agenda.”

A bigger gospel?

Some evangelical leaders want to test their political influence beyond issues the Christian Right has long seen as crucial, issues centering around the sanctity of marriage and of human life. But by jumping on the “climate change” agenda, they may actually be undermining these core evangelical values.

The science is not settled on whether the slight rise in global temperatures over the last few decades is caused by human activity or is part of a natural self-regulating cycle. Drastic proposals such as a carbon tax or offset will raise energy and food prices, signing a death sentence for millions of families who struggle to get by on one or two dollars a day in the developing world. Recently, the Hewlett Foundation, an energetic promoter of abortion and population control in developing countries, funded a half-million dollar ad campaign by the Evangelical Climate Initiative. This uncharacteristic donation is very telling of the philosophy behind climate change. Christians must stand up for the poor and oppose this kind of “eco-imperialism.”

NAE VP and global warming activist Richard Cizik endorsed Peter Illyn in the same video.

The Theological Question

All this about a 2006 lobbying trip might seem like old news, but in an Earth Day interview with the American News Project this year, Richard Cizik criticized the great fathers of the Church for their emphasis on salvation and the soul over concern for the earth:

“For a lot of different reasons the Christian Church has never been active on these ecological, creation issues . . . originally the Church Fathers opted for, unfortunately, a kinda Neo-Platonist view, that the spirit matters, matter doesn't matter; they were succeeded by the great Reformers during the sixteenth century . . . [who] taught--Martin Luther, John Calvin, and others--that while it is important to care, the overall emphasis…was that the earth was just a staging ground for a great moral conflict between God and Satan over man's soul, so the Earth itself didn't get much emphasis...”

[You can see the feature here: http://newsproject.org/node/70]

This dismissive attitude toward the historical fathers of the faith might raise a few eyebrows among those who take historical Christianity and its deliberate emphasis on eternal matters seriously.

As the American News Project reporter remarked, "Cizik's doing his best to change the emphasis, and bring it down to earth."

An environmental emphasis will obscure other more important Christian duties, such as preaching the gospel and helping the poor. Jesus never mentioned the environment, but He had a lot to say about salvation and helping the poor. Historically, these concerns have rightly occupied most of the Church's  attention. Environmental activism threatens to dilute our witness.

Practical Concerns

The premise that comes through with these evangelical environmentalists is this: Jesus commands Christians to care for the poor. (So far, so good.) Therefore as Christians we're lobbying the government to fix the environment because it might harm the poor.

First of all, the duty of Christians is to help the poor, not ask the government to do it for you. But there's a bigger problem. Climate change is not such a settled question as the media would have us believe. And there's a clear connection between political efforts to regulate carbon emissions (which usually involve some form of taxation) and a negative effect on the global economy. Responding to the G-8's recent declaration of intention to halve carbon emissions by 2050, India's PM Manmohan Singh observed that India's most critical goal, poverty reduction, cannot be carried out with limitations on carbon emissions. In other words, abundant energy is necessary to drive the kind of economy that can raise a nation to a decent standard of living. Christians who care for the poor should not take this lightly.

Political Realities

Meanwhile, one-time Religious Right icon Pat Robertson has gotten chummy with Al Sharpton in a clever commercial sponsored by Al Gore’s Alliance for Climate Protection.

(I got a chuckle out of Sharpton's Reagan riff.)

If the ad was intended to turn evangelical voters into zealous environmentalists, it was probably ineffective. Robertson has been out of touch with his base for quite some time, as evidenced by his endorsement earlier this year of Republican presidential hopeful Rudy Giuliani—largely eschewed by evangelicals because of his pro-choice views and personal life.

In fact, studies show that far from splitting on this issue, evangelicals see global warming as less of an issue today than they did in 2004.

This year's National Survey on Religion and Public Life (by Calvin College) found that “despite the efforts of many Evangelical Protestant leaders to encourage evangelicals to adopt a more environmentally friendly stance, evangelicals as a whole are actually less supportive of environmental regulation in 2008 than they were in 2004.” As one expert observes, for evangelicals “Global warming may have peaked as a major political issue.”

And a January Barna study found that only 33% of evangelicals consider global warming to be a major challenge--and that evangelicals are the most skeptical segment of the American population on this issue.

Climate Change and the Culture of Death

I saw a t-shirt the other day with the slogan “Green is the new Black.”

It was meant as a lighthearted expression of support for the environment, but it reflects a sinister reality. Environmental emphasis is moving away from legitimate anti-pollution concerns and supporting ‘carbon reduction’ efforts that will have a catastrophic human impact, especially in the developing world. A culture of death is underwriting the “climate change” juggernaut—and Christians are being taken in by it.

It’s crucial for defenders of the faith to expose the climate change agenda for what it really is. As Cardinal George Pell says, "Church leaders in particular should be allergic to nonsense."

Years ago I was struck by the fears that middle-class kids without religion had about nuclear war. It was almost an obsession with a few of them. It's almost as though people without religion, who don't belong to any of the great religious traditions, have got to be frightened of something. . .

In the past pagans sacrificed animals and even humans in vain attempts to placate capricious and cruel gods. Today they demand a reduction in carbon dioxide emissions. . .

There are many measures that are good for the environment that we should pursue. We need to be able talk freely about this and about the uncertainties around climate change. Invoking the authority of some scientific experts to shut down debate is not good for science, for the environment, for people here and in the developing world or for the people of tomorrow.

My task as a Christian leader is to engage with reality, to contribute to debate on important issues, to open people's minds, and to point out when the emperor is wearing few or no clothes. I strive to argue rationally towards God the Creator, and reject substitutes, be they pantheist or atheist.

Radical environmentalists are more than up to the task of moralizing their own agenda and imposing it on people through fear. They don't need church leaders to help them with this, although it is a very effective way of further muting Christian witness. Church leaders in particular should be allergic to nonsense.

The Christian God is not an insurance broker, nor did his Son Jesus Christ say anything on global warming, although he said much on the struggle between good and evil, meaning and fear, love and hate.

Jesus calls us to address the challenges in our own hearts, families, and communities before we moralize about distant worlds, where we are usually powerless.

There are lots of questions here that can be summed up under the issue of faith's relationship to reason. I'll try to be brief. Many modern day Christians usually fall into the camp that faith is separate from or above reason, and that reason somehow undermines faith. If you "know" that God exists then what need is there for faith? On the flip side, reason is viewed as above faith or that faith is somehow harmful. This is usually the defaul position of atheism or secular humanism. They might say, "Why would someone take a leap of faith if their is no justification to do so?" They accuse believers of irrational blind faith and believers accuse them of lacking a cardinal virtue, faith.

My questions is: Why the dichotomy? I submit to both atheists, Christians, and anyone else who cares that the most sensible view of faith's relationship to reason is that of balance.

In answering the questions above, I can admit that each of those ways of knowing contributes to our overall knowledge. Intellectual conviction, God as a basic belief, the emotional feelings we have when worshipping and connecting with other Christians, the testimony of the Spirit of God which indwells us, our experience of the power of Christ to transform lives, etc.

Now I admit that God can use any one of these avenues to impact a person's mind and heart and draw them to Himself. But what I find interesting is that the avenue which brings justified true belief, is what is lacking in much of the church today. If someone were to ask me why I am a Christian. How should I respond? I submit that the subjective responses: I like church, I like the people at church, I feel better, my life has changed, my parents made me, there is great coffee, or just because I want to, etc. fall short. The best answer is....because it is objectively true!! Because Christianity is the most reasonable faith? Because it makes more sense than any other worldview when compared with reality. The Christian is able to answer the most difficult questions of life with the most coherence and profundity. Christianity describes the human condition as we experience it and gives a solution for it that matches philosophical, historical, and scientific scrutiny.

The key here is that Christianity is objectively true. Not simply subjectively true. All our subjective experiences that give us warm fuzzies as Christians just happen to coincide with objective reality. Keep in mind that not all believers experience the "warm fuzzies." And even some false religions have warm fuzzies. Consider the testimony of the Mormons who claim to know that their religion is true because of a burning in their bosom. Or the Unitarian whose life has "improved." Subjective experiences might help to validate a true idea especially for the person having them. However, they are not universally accessible and can not be used as the primary basis for validating truth.

To close let me drive this home with a story:  I once debated with an atheist and the next day we sat down for coffee to chat. He told me that if God was real, that that would be "indescribably huge" and would necessitate a total life committment and devotion. I agreed (and was somewhat convicted because of my own lack of utter devotion at times). If God is real then nothing else would take precedence over that truth and its impact on our life. However, he pointed out that even if he saw radical committment from others, that would not prove God's existence. The sincerity of or committment to a faith is subjective and does not make it actually true. I completely agreed. He went on to say that science couldn't prove God and that He would not just take a subjective leap of faith. You see- he equated faith with subjectivism. False problem. I told him that faith could be objectiv. I asked him if he knew with 100% scientific certainty that his mother was in fact his biological mom. I asked him if he had received a DNA test to prove that his mom was his mom. He said no and admitted that even if he had, he would not know if the tests were somehow falsified. I asked him, "Don't you have to take a leap of faith in order to know that your mom is your mom?" He agreed, yes. So I suggested to him that he could still have justified objectively true belief that his mom was his mom based on the testimony of others. He could probably trust his dad who saw him born and could testify to his continuity of personhood to this day. Maybe there were other people who could do the same. Maybe there were other "reasons" to "believe."  Maybe  he had traits and characteristics of his mom that were likely not coincidence. Of course, he could be wrong, but probably not.

What's the point. Even the atheist must have "faith" to believe anything to be true. He must take into account the evidence before him just like the rest of us. He must "trust" certain people as he sifts through truth and falsehood. In this case he must trust his dad, etc. Yet he can still have justified true belief that is not subjective. I shared withhim that I have more faith that God is my Father, than I do that my mom is my mother. Why? Because there seems to be insurmountable evidence, i.e reasons, to think so. Our knowledge is not 100% certain, but that does not mean that it is not probably (99.5%) true. Faith corresponds with reason. What are those reasons? I'll save that for another day. Lord willing.

By the way, the atheist converted on the spot..............................................not.

'For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known." the Apostle Paul (1 Corinthians 13:12)  

 This existence of the ability to reason and reason itself is evidence that we can know things about ourselves and the world in a sort of common sense way. However, as a person begins to discover the depth of reality and knowledge, all reality and knowledge blend into mystery. Indeed, the way we “see” reality is as though we are looking through a dim mirror. At the surface, of our sense experiences, e.g. looking at and touching physical objects and describing them, the mirror seems clear. However, as our experience of the world becomes more complex, the mirror becomes dimmer. In the words of Thomas Aquinas, as we go deeper into the complexity of reality, “all things fade into mystery.”

        God makes himself known to humans. He has revealed himself and shown us what ultimate reality is like. There is a personal aspect in revelation, in that, God reveals himself. Our personality comes from God who is personal. If God were not personal, neither could we be. It is also propositional, in that God reveals the truth about Himself and thus, ultimate reality, in words and actions which communicate truth. Therefore, revelation is God making his person known through divine acts in history and through divinely given interpretations of those acts written in true propositional Scripture.

        God’s revelation is typically understood in two ways. He has revealed the Truth, that is, Himself in general terms and in specific terms. God’s general revelation, although distorted by various corruptions caused by sin, is the adequate yet insufficient universal knowledge of God’s existence, certain attributes, and moral law. This knowledge comes through observing the created order, the human conscience or people’s innate sense of morality, and recognizing humanity’s inner sense of God.

        God Himself in His specific revelation in Romans 1:18-32, Psalm 19, and Acts 14:16-17, communicates to us that He has universally revealed his existence and nature in and through the created order and has not left us without witness. He has also revealed his moral law in and through the human conscience (Rom. 2:14-15) and the inner sense of God found in every person gives further evidence for His existence (Acts 17:22-31).

        Though sin has negatively disturbed God’s general revelation (Rom. 8:18-25), and people’s view of and response to it (Rom.1:21). Nevertheless, this revelation is adequate in revealing accurate knowledge of God. It is insufficient, however, to enable people to properly worship, or know Him intimately (1 Cor. 1:21; Gal 4:8). Thus. The need for specific revelation and a radical change of the human being.

        In order to know God intimately and to understand reality accurately, a second type of revelation is necessary. This revelation is specific and is sometimes termed, “special.”  This communication of God to His creation is the necessary knowledge of God, which is communicated to people through particular modes. Special revelation is necessary to enable people to properly worship God (1 Cor. 1:21; Rom 3:23-24). The different modes of special revelation include historical events (Acts 2), dreams and visions (Dan. 2; Gen. 41; Matt: 1:20-25), divine speech (Gen. 2:16-17; Exod. 20:1-17), the incarnation of Jesus Christ (Heb 1:1-3; John 14:8-9), and Holy Scripture (2 Tim 3:16).

        In order to know reality sufficiently, one must employ all aspects of God’s revelation; for he is the essence of reality and not only gives revelation, but gives us the power and potentiality to understand and receive that revelation.

May you be encouraged as you seek to know God!

Through the Glass Dimly.

Click this link for a pictorial representation of certain aspects of God's revealed reality- Revealed Reality

InsideCatholic recently did an interesting survey of the reasons Catholics (and, for that matter, Christians in general) leave the Church by asking several prominent Catholics (bishops, professors, lay authors, etc.) for their opinion on the reasons and solutions. I think the bishop of Baker, Oregon, Robert Vasa, gives us the most acute explanation:

"We, as Americans, tend to look for rational reasons for action or for failure to act. There is inherent in the question a search for 'reason,' but perhaps it is reason itself, cut off from faith, that is precisely the cause of the abdication of the Catholic Faith. Have we not, after all, made the concept of assent to the truths and teachings of the Catholic Faith much more a matter of reason than faith? Phrases like 'I just cannot believe that' manifest a great confusion between reason and faith. What we believe as Catholics is certainly reasonable, but raw reason, without any input from Faith, would of necessity reject a vast majority of what the Church believes and teaches. Modern man finds faith unreasonable and therefore unbelievable.

In America there is a very strong notion that what we believe must make perfect sense to us, and that we are somehow automatically absolved from believing that which does not seem to be rational."

INTRODUCTION

As a political movement, libertarianism is of recent origin. It is rooted in the American alternative tradition, and its pioneers were united by their common realization that all forms of socialism as a political ideology lead to tyranny and the loss of freedom. In addition, they shared a strong belief in the preferability of free-market economic systems. Libertarianism is not a new philosophy, per se—it is more precisely a return to classical liberalism, albeit adapted to the modern age. It claims as its fathers the economist Adam Smith, as well as philosophers J.S. Mill and John Locke. In the last century, F.A. Hayek, Ludwig von Mises and their followers, known as the Austrian economic school, brought classical economics in line with postmodern philosophy. Within their understanding, individual choice, rather than societal consensus or some other factor, became the ultimate moving force in market economics. In the course of the twentieth century, Hegelian concepts of unified historical or national destiny and the immanent, emerging spirit of progress that formed the inspiration of socialist and progressive efforts were discredited as the nationalistic and idealistic systems devised to bring them into being proved to be unstable, falling apart or degenerating into totalitarian tyranny and unspeakable inhumanity.

This is not to say that belief in the immanentist impulse to progress is dead; for to the degree that progressive goals dominate the methodology and assumptions of American politics, it is very much alive and dangerous. Certainly, Austrian-influenced libertarianism may be valued as a balancing force in contemporary politics, if nothing else. However, both libertarian and progressive thought pose in their idealism a a danger to a free society. They both adhere to reductionistic views of political society, interpreting everything in light of a simple and absolute principle. The very names given to these movements indicate their respective philosophical conceits. The ruling principle for progressives is a belief in the ability of human society to improve itself—to “progress”—by means of political and social activism, whilst libertarians acknowledge as dogma the “non-aggression axiom,” a statement of absolute non-conflicting liberty, as the ultimate standard for political and social policy.

Various Christian leaders and thinkers have promoted one or the other of these philosophical movements over the years. This need not surprise those who consider how much common ground Christians share with both progressives and libertarians, at least at a certain level. The mystery of redemption central to Christianity produces a desire to see the world transformed by Christ, and chiliastic theology parallels the secular millenarian impulse of progressivism in some ways. Christians also find common ground with libertarians because they value justice. It is a Christian virtue to protect the innocent from the predations of wicked men; similarly, libertarians affirm that the purpose of law is to protect the life, property, and personal freedom of the innocent. While Christians might resist the libertarian assumption that these ends are the only legitimate purpose of government, in respect for civil justice, at least, we find common ground.

Christianity has so profoundly shaped the world that it is nearly impossible to conceive of a political movement that could escape the influence of Christian thought. But this is not to say that insofar as they partake of some element of Christianity, they are to be embraced. The most dangerous lies are those that contain the most truth—or rather, those which most craftily entwine truth with error. For this reason, and because the concept of “Christian Libertarianism” is at the beginning of this century being proposed as a legitimate political philosophy just as “Christian Socialism” was a century ago, we must diligently scrutinize the implications that application of libertarian philosophy will have upon our nation and our world.

How can the human desire for happiness be reconciled to the reality of suffering in the world? Our best efforts to live a good and pleasant life often seem to be frustrated by fate and hindered by our friends. This is a world of trouble, tragedy, and confusion.

The classical philosophers wanted to construct a state that would diminish the pains of life and allow people to pursue development in the direction of what is good, both ultimately, and specific to their natures as human beings. Central to this pursuit was the idea of the polis; the city-state, the best kind of community, the sphere in which man could best fulfill his humanity and live a happy and blessed life.

Christianity added another dimension to the idea of happiness, with concepts that may at times seem in conflict with classical values. The early Christians endured persecution, choosing even to be alienated from the natural bonds of the state, family, and friendship, for the sake of a greater community, a spiritual family, and a higher citizenship. They embraced even the destruction of their bodies for the sake of the Body of Christ and the mystical communion of the saints.

II. The Classical Understanding of Happiness

In the classical ideal, happiness of a city, and happiness of a person, aims at the same thing. The happiness of each person naturally tends toward the happiness of the whole group, while in an unhappy city, it is difficult for any person to pursue those things that lead to happiness. According to Aristotle, “The happy city-state is the one that is best and acts nobly” (P 1323b 30), just as the happy man is the one in whom internal virtue and virtuous action meet in a life well lived.

While for Aristotle no man, perhaps, can be blessedly happy—this would require him to possess all virtues, and all the external goods necessary to act upon those virtues, as well as a life free of trouble, the most ideal social position, and sons who bring honor to his name—yet happiness is not produced by external goods, but by internal virtues. Some of these virtues he describes. For instance, the virtuous man possesses the virtue of Truth. He does not perjure or deceive, but is honest in his dealings and character. He is just, both avoiding crime and not permitting others to commit crime (L V 730). This is an example of how virtue is expressed through action. Without living a good and leisured life, it is impossible for a man to act in accordance with justice, or to take an interest in the actions of others. Other qualities of a virtuous man include self-control, good judgment, and generosity. Plato even advocates the use of wine to develop in young men the virtues of self-control and good judgment, for in order to exercise these virtues one must know what are his natural abilities and limitations. It goes without saying that one cannot practice generosity without goods to bestow, or without people upon whom to bestow them.

The circumstances in which these virtues are most readily developed show that a long life and a prosperous one offers the best chance of allowing this kind of virtuous life. The argument for this is important: For Aristotle, a life of hardship is not conducive to the development of virtue. He says “an excellent man is the sort of man whose virtue makes unqualifiedly good things good for him” (P 1332a 22). This shows that external goods and ills are not valued in relation to their effect on virtue, but are good or evil in themselves. This is not a Pollyanna universe, in which anything at all can be for the best. An evil man may put things to evil use, but the things themselves do not become evil. Conversely, a good man may pursue good even in evil circumstances, but clearly, it would be better for evil circumstances not to exist.

Plato differs on this point in his claim that some things we regard as natural goods are not good at all if they do not tend toward virtue. He suggests that the external goods can be either helpful or harmful, depending on the man to whom they are applied. “Seeing, hearing, sensation, and simply being alive, are great evils, if in spite of having all these so-called good things a man gains immortality without justice and virtue in general” (L II 661). So the crucial point for classical political theory, and a point in which it differs greatly from liberal political theory, is that the pursuit of happiness does not simply refer to the pursuit of property. Property, to a tyrannical soul, is an inducement to evil, whereas for the just soul it can be a means of living a blessed life. Property is to be protected, not for its own sake, but so that it may be used to pursue the end of a life well lived. “The best life,” Aristotle writes, “both for individuals separately and for city-states collectively, is a life of virtue sufficiently equipped with the resources needed to take part in virtuous action” (P. 1323b 40). A man cannot be good and virtuous without the ability to act virtuously, and so the life in which a man possesses both the internal motivators and the external abilities to act virtuously, will be the most blessed life.

Even if the external goods are in fact “unqualifiedly” good in themselves, they are not the ultimate good at which human life aims, and so they are not sought as ends, but as means to an end, which end (for Aristotle) is virtue fully realized. As a result, a virtuous man is one who acquires goods in moderation. “A happy life for human beings,” he writes, “whether it consists in pleasure or virtue or both, is possessed more often by those who have cultivated their characters and minds to an excessive degree,[1]but have been moderate in their acquisition of external goods” (P 1323a 39). The virtuous man experiences both pleasures and pains in moderation, where the man of appetite experiences both in excess. The concept of moderation is of course central to Aristotle’s ethics.

III. Happiness in the Iliad

Reading the Iliad with a view to comparing the virtues of Achilles and Hector will reveal some of the differences between the best kind of soul and an inferior type. Achilles’ virtues blaze in combat, but his character off the field of battle is petulant and mercurial. He hungers after honor and glory, choosing them over the best kind of life, and in the end is glorious, but dishonorable. Hector, by contrast to Achilles, appears as blessed as a god, notwithstanding his fall.[2]

Achilles the warrior cannot be blessedly happy because his virtues are displayed best only in the context of war. War brings out manly courage, a sense of justice, and temperance dictated by survival (P 1334a 18). But it is most virtuous to hold these same virtues in peacetime, for leisured virtue is the most difficult to achieve. War is an unnatural state. It is against the way things ought to be in a good world, the kind of world the classical philosophers hope to establish. If a blessedly happy state is without war, and the end of a blessed state and of a blessed man is the same, it follows that the perfect man would not require war to display his excellence. This is why Hector is far superior in virtue to Achilles, and so, happier in the sense that matters.

Is Hector happy, though? Possibly not by the classical measure. Is any character in the Iliad happy? The Iliad is a tragedy. It is the tragedy of Troy, personified in King Priam, who must with his aged eyes witness the fateful folly of his son Paris, the death of his noble son Hector, and the doom of his city and himself, who even in life is reduced to less than nothing, being forced to beg Hector’s body at the knees of cruel Achilles. Aristotle says no one would claim that Priam is blessedly happy (NE 1100a 9). The Iliad is also and even more prominently the tragedy of Achilles himself, who desires happiness but knows he will never see it, and that all he can expect is glory and an early death. Moreover, he forfeits all honor for his glorious deeds by his shameful treatment of Hector’s body. While the Trojans are not aware of their doom, Achilles knows his fate. The Iliad uses this dramatic irony repeatedly. The reader knows that Troy is fated to fall, but the Trojans and Hector do not. They may experience premonitions or doubts, but they do not know the will of the gods. Is it possible that because of their lack of knowledge Hector and the Trojans are able to pursue virtue and protect the city?

These speculations aside, Aristotle is clear that a life well lived is one not disturbed by calamity—one in which pain does not outweigh pleasure. It is possible for a person at one time in his life to think himself happy, but is he so? Aristotle argues that one’s entire life must be reviewed in order to determine whether he is happy or not. He writes, “But we must add ‘in a complete life.’ For one swallow does not make a spring, nor does one sunny day; similarly, one day or a short time does not make a man blessed and happy” (NE 1098a 18). Translator Martin Ostwald’s gloss on this passage suggests a difference “between makarios, ‘blessed’ or ‘supremely happy,’ and eudaimōn, ‘happy.’ He characterizes makarios as “happiness insofar as it is god-given,” but eudaimōn is “happiness as attained by man through his own efforts” (NE 1098a 19 footnote). This eudaimōn, then, is the end to which a man ought to develop virtue, for he cannot very well expect the blessings of the gods, at least, not such capricious gods as Homer describes. So perhaps we cannot call Hector happy after all, for although has been given many good things, and developed in himself the virtues tending toward happiness (in spades), he meets an untimely end at the point of Achilles’ lance.

IV. A Christian Appreciation of Suffering

Contrary to the Greek belief, even if external goods must be present in order to live a virtuous and happy life, these goods need not always comprise peace, long life, or safety. It is possible for hardship to be an opportunity to exercise or even to develop internal virtues that were never apparent until the hardship. [3] This concept feeds into the Christian belief in the value of suffering. Suffering for the Christian is not evil and does not corrupt virtue but rather refines and purifies it. Like prosperity, it is good for the virtuous man and evil for the man whose only desire is the pursuit of pleasure. More significantly, though, suffering has a sacramental aspect, in that Christians can embrace suffering for the sake of Christ just as he humbled himself for our sake.

That, as his death calcined thee to dust,
His life may make thee gold, and much more just. [4]

The presence of evil in the world reveals imperfection. The difference between the Christian understanding of evil and Aristotle’s concept is that while both agree that in a perfect world suffering would not exist, Christians understand that the world cannot be completely rid of it. It is likely that we would not want to. The mystery of the Gospel involves God Himself taking on human flesh and experiencing suffering on behalf of men. This concept would have horrified the ancients (or, who knows, perhaps they would have been amazed and delighted!). In any case, the Incarnation alters our presuppositions about the perfectibility of the present world, and especially about the inherent evil of suffering. For surely, if God, who is perfect, and most deserves to be called “blessedly happy,” actually gave himself up and suffered as one of us, for us, then suffering cannot be evil in itself; if it is an evil, there must be a greater evil behind it. This evil is sin. It proceeds not from God at all, but from ourselves, and is the cause of all subsequent evils. But can anything but evil arise from such a great evil as sin? The question is well founded. Shall we “do evil, that good may come?” God forbid. But the beauty of Christ’s sacrifice is that it takes evil and turns it into good. At Creation God made good things out of nothing, but at the Cross He made good things out of evil things. This act of redemptive suffering has given hope for the renewal of all things in the world to come.

V. Coda

At this point we must leave Aristotle behind. He has directed us toward wisdom so far, but, like Dante’s Virgil, there is a level to which he cannot ascend, though his reasoning still guides our minds. The Incarnation raises a new question we must answer. If suffering is no longer evil, but, given a fallen world and our current imperfect state, a good and a necessary element of human existence, then what is it that we are to avoid? And if pain is no longer naturally evil, can pleasure be naturally good? Plato holds that “you oblige your poets to say that the good man, because he is temperate and just, enjoys good fortune and is happy, no matter whether he is big and strong, or small and weak, or rich, or poor” (L II 660). Surely, there cannot be an infallible connection between justice and good fortune when Christ the All-Good, All-Just came into the world for the purpose of not enjoying good fortune? And when Plato says that “the noblest life…excels in providing what we all seek: a predominance of pleasure over pain throughout our lives” (LV 732-3), he cannot see the one who was “despised and rejected of men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief.” To accept his argument would be to despise “the noble army of martyrs,” and the sufferings of the people of God from the beginning of time, “from the blood of righteous Abel unto the blood of Zechariah son of Barachias” (Matt. 23:35).

Rachel Bespaloff wrote, “The Bible and the Iliad always encompass our experience at its richest and most contradictory” (War and the Iliad, 87). It is the contradiction between Hector’s justice and Hector’s suffering that we find most appealing in the Iliad. Achilles arouses our pity because we understand that he is like us in his frustration and inner conflict, his feeble struggles against fate. But we admire Hector because he is what we want to become. We embrace the contradiction of Hector’s greatness and suffering because we know that it is real. It is not imagined or ideal; we have seen it happen.

It is true, as Plato says, that “the argument that does not drive a wedge between ‘pleasant’ on the one hand and ‘just’ and ‘fine’ and ‘good’ on the other, even if it achieves nothing else, will do something to persuade a man to live a just and pious life” (Laws II.663). But is this kind of argument honest, considering that Jesus promised his followers trouble in the world?The Christian does not seek a blessed life in this world. He seeks the blessedness of the world to come, a city whose foundation is Christ.

[1] It seems out of character for Aristotle to refer to an excess of virtue—this must be hyperbole. If virtue is the good at which a man aims, then it should be impossible to extend virtue beyond the bounds of wisdom. So this ought to be read, “To a very high degree.”

[2] It is quite possible that Aristotle would not regard Hector as blessed because of his eventual downfall. However, he was courageous and honorable, expressing proper kinds of virtue even in death. It is significant that Aristotle singles out Priam, not Hector, when in the Ethics he gives an example of a person who could never be called happy.

[3] Perhaps a similar principle of testing underlies Plato’s use of wine to develop self-control and temperance.

[4] George Herbert, “Easter” from The Temple.

Your rational instincts lead you to search for a light switch on the wall to the right side of the doorway at just under shoulder height. It leads you to do that because that is where your experience indicates they usually are; your reason allows you to abstract a pattern from the universe and reimpose it.

Your faith lets you, or drives you to persevere even when you discover that the light switch is not in the "right place." It allows you to, or, again, perhaps compels you to feel your way forward even when there is no information to solve your problem or when the information you have does not help.

Without faith, you would, upon discovery that the light switch was not located in the place it "should" be, sit right down and give in. Reason would say, "Light switches are located in such-and-such a place, therefor, if the light switch is not there, there is, perforce, no light to be had." End of discussion.

Without reason, you would rush into the house and right down the stairs. You would lie there, with multiple breaks and contusions, content in your rock-hard belief that light will be "given" to you if you simply believe hard enough. And that's how you'd die.

The constant dynamic tension between reason and faith, between nous and imagination, is the motive force in the human psyche. Or, you know, whatever.

Objection 1. It would seem that God cannot move the created will. For whatever is moved from without, is forced. But the will cannot be forced. Therefore it is not moved from without; and therefore cannot be moved by God.

Objection 2. Further, God cannot make two contradictories to be true at the same time. But this would follow if He moved the will; for to be voluntarily moved means to be moved from within, and not by another. Therefore God cannot move the will.

Objection 3. Further, movement is attributed to the mover rather than to the one moved; wherefore homicide is not ascribed to the stone, but to the thrower. Therefore, if God moves the will, it follows that voluntary actions are not imputed to man for reward or blame. But this is false. Therefore God does not move the will.

On the contrary, It is written (Philippians 2:13): "It is God who worketh in us [Vulgate--'you'] both to will and to accomplish."

I answer that, As the intellect is moved by the object and by the Giver of the power of intelligence, as stated above (3), so is the will moved by its object, which is good, and by Him who creates the power of willing. Now the will can be moved by good as its object, but by God alone sufficiently and efficaciously. For nothing can move a movable thing sufficiently unless the active power of the mover surpasses or at least equals the potentiality of the thing movable. Now the potentiality of the will extends to the universal good; for its object is the universal good; just as the object of the intellect is the universal being. But every created good is some particular good; God alone is the universal good. Whereas He alone fills the capacity of the will, and moves it sufficiently as its object. In like manner the power of willing is caused by God alone. For to will is nothing but to be inclined towards the object of the will, which is universal good. But to incline towards the universal good belongs to the First Mover, to Whom the ultimate end is proportionate; just as in human affairs to him that presides over the community belongs the directing of his subjects to the common weal. Wherefore in both ways it belongs to God to move the will; but especially in the second way by an interior inclination of the will.

Reply to Objection 1. A thing moved by another is forced if moved against its natural inclination; but if it is moved by another giving to it the proper natural inclination, it is not forced; as when a heavy body is made to move downwards by that which produced it, then it is not forced. In like manner God, while moving the will, does not force it, because He gives the will its own natural inclination.

Reply to Objection 2. To be moved voluntarily, is to be moved from within, that is, by an interior principle: yet this interior principle may be caused by an exterior principle; and so to be moved from within is not repugnant to being moved by another.

Reply to Objection 3. If the will were so moved by another as in no way to be moved from within itself, the act of the will would not be imputed for reward or blame. But since its being moved by another does not prevent its being moved from within itself, as we have stated (ad 2), it does not thereby forfeit the motive for merit or demerit.

From the Catholic Encyclopedia online.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I suppose the title "whether God can move the created will," i.e., a will whose being and nature He himself created, sets us up for this conclusion. I just love how systematic and logical Thomas Aquinas is. He's almost mathematically precise in his reasoning. This argument reminds me of Jonathan Edwards (On the Freedom of the Will), as well as John Owen (The Death of Death in the Death of Christ), both highly recommended.

I'm reading a book called Finding the Will of God whose premise is that many of the ways Christians use to "discover the will of God" border on pagan techniques of divination and are unworthy of use by a Christian. This is a perspective that is very helpful. Instead of trying to find secret knowledge, God wants us just to walk with Him, and as we are conformed to His likeness we will understand what is pleasing in His sight.

And this morning I opened up Spurgeon's Faith's Cheque Book to this entry:

July 3: A Guide All the Way

He will be my guide even unto death. (Psalm 48:14)

We need a guide. Sometimes we would give all that we have to be told exactly what to do and where to turn. We are willing to do right, but we do not know which one of two roads we are to follow. Oh, for a guide!

The Lord our God condescends to serve us as guide. He knows the way and will pilot us along it till we reach our journey's end in peace. Surely we do not desire more infallible direction. Let us place ourselves absolutely under His guidance, and we shall never miss our way. Let us make Him our God, and we shall find Him our guide. If we follow His law we shall not miss the right road of life, provided we first learn to lean upon Him in every step that we take.

Our comfort is that as He is our God forever and ever, He will never cease to be with us as our guide. "Even unto death" will He lead us, and then we shall dwell with Him eternally and go no more out forever. This promise of divine guidance involves lifelong security: salvation at once, guidance unto our last hour, and then endless blessedness. Should not each one seek this in youth, rejoice in it in middle life, and repose in it in old age? This day let us look up for guidance before we trust ourselves out-of-doors.

"If we follow His law we shall not miss the right road of life." I'm going to have faith that God knows what He's doing. I'm going to fix my eyes on Christ, and then step out of the boat. As long as I'm focused on Him, no harm can befall me.

What are libraries for? Are they cultural storehouses that contain the best that has been thought and said? Or are they more like actual stores, responding to whatever fickle taste or Mitch Albom tearjerker is all the rage at this very moment?

If the answer is the latter, then why must we have government-run libraries at all? There's a fine line between an institution that aims to edify the public and one that merely uses tax dollars to subsidize the recreational habits of bookworms.

Fairfax County may think that condemning a few dusty old tomes allows it to keep up with the times. But perhaps it's inadvertently highlighting the fact that libraries themselves are becoming outmoded.

There was a time when virtually every library was a cultural repository holding priceless volumes. Imagine how much richer our historical and literary record would be if a single library full of unique volumes--the fabled Royal Library of Alexandria, in Egypt--had survived to the present day.

Fairfax County is purging books that aren't checked out in 24 months. So if you live in Fairfax, do yourself and Western Culture a favor, go to your library, and check out some volumes. Aristotle, Plato, Malory. Homer. The Latin poets. St. Augustine and the medieval divines. Don't forget Shakespeare or Donne, or the great modern novelists, poets, playwrights, and philosophers.

We live in an age that scorns the things of the past. Let us at least preserve these works and perhaps save the next generation from cultural oblivion.

What books would you recommend for beginning a private library of the classics?

God's adoptive love was the topic of his sermon, and the Scripture passage was Ephesians 1.

[3] Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, [4] even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love [5] he predestined us for adoption through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved.

Main idea: God adopted us through Christ so we might know His love and thereby live to the praise of His glorious grace.

(1) Whom does God adopt? God's saving plan was never confined to Israel or to the original creation. His intention in creating a humanity that would reject him was so that He could restore a people for himself, showing a new kind of love based on the gift of His own son. Our adoption was never Plan B. It was planned in eternity past. "...even as he [the Father] chose us in him [the Son] before the foundation of the world..." John Stott writes:

When people ask us the speculative question why God went ahead with the creation when he knew that it would be followed by the fall, one answer we can tentatively give is that he destined us for a higher dignity than even creation would bestow on us. He intended to ‘adopt’ us, to make us the sons and daughters of his family.

The beautiful parable in Ezekiel 16 compares God's people (Israel) to an illegitimate child cast away in an open field on the day of her birth, who God has pity on, bringing her to life and making her his own. And in spite of His love, she goes astray after false gods and commits adultery with them. This we can see as a picture of ourselves. Apart from Christ we are helpless like that baby, and we were not cute orphans either, but enemies.

Before time God knew His children by name. Stop trying to earn your salvation.

“For if we are chosen in Christ, it is outside ourselves. It is not from the sight of our deserving, but because our heavenly Father has engrafted us, through the blessing of adoption, in the Body of Christ. In short, the name of Christ excludes all merit, and everything which men have of themselves; for when he says that we are chosen in Christ, it follows that in ourselves we are unworthy.” (John Calvin)

Every time we call ourselves Christians, we are acknowledging that our salvation comes only through faith in Christ.

(2) By what means does God adopt? Through Jesus Christ, by whom God made possible our adoption. God's adoptive love was made evident and possible through the life and atoning sacrifice of God's Son. Without the Incarnation, how would we know that God loved us? And without the Cross, how could God save us? Only through Christ. All God's gifts to us come through the Son and by His cross.

"See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God..." (1 John 3:1)

(3) To what end does God adopt? Why did He do it? "To the praise of His glorious grace." God derives honor, joy, and glory by forgiving the guilty, regenerating the dead, and adopting the enemy. It was not to make much of us, but it was so that we would rejoice in giving God the glory. He gets the glory, and we share in His joy. John Piper writes:

God adopted us in our unworthiness to make his grace look great. You were adopted for the praise of the glory of his grace. God’s action in adopting us is radically God-centered and God-exalting … We are adopted by God not so that we will rejoice that God made much of us. We are adopted by God so that we will enjoy making much of God’s grace as our Father forever. We are adopted so that in this family the Father and the unique elder Son, Jesus Christ, will be the source and focus of all our joy. We are adopted “to the praise of the glory of his grace.” … That is the final meaning of adoption.

Today I read significant portions of Allan Bloom's book The Closing of the American Mind (Touchstone, 1988). Bloom shows how the American mind is in the process of devaluing itself. I found the way Bloom related the changes in American sexuality to the decline of American intellect, worthy of notice.

The eroticism of our students is lame. It is not the divine madness Socrates praised; or the enticing awareness of incompleteness and the quest to overcome it; or natures grace, which permits a partial being to recover his wholeness in the embrace of another; or a temporal being to long for eternity in the perpetuity of his seed; or the hope that all men will remember his deeds; or his contemplation of perfection. Eroticism is a discomfort, but one that in itself promises relief and affirms the goodness of things. It is the proof, subjective but incontrovertible, of mans relatedness, imperfect though it may be, to others and to the whole of nature. Wonder, the source of both poetry and philosophy, is its characteristic expression. Eros demands daring from its votaries and provides a good reason for it. This longing for completeness is the longing for education, and the study of it is education. 132-33

When sex is "free," it is valued less; the sense of wonder that it ought to create is diminished; it does not provoke the kind of soul-searching and development that ought to accompany a young person's rise to adulthood. A young person ought to struggle until love, reason, sex, faith, and virtue are brought together in an understanding of what it truly means to be human. Humanity means not only being the greatest of the animals, but being as far superior to them as they are to the inanimate things.

In all species other than man, when an animal reaches puberty, it is all that it will ever be. This stage is the clear end toward which all of its growth and learning is directed. The animal's activity is reproduction. It lives on this plateau until it starts downhill. Only in man is puberty just the beginning. The greater and more interesting part of his learning, moral and intellectual, comes afterward, and in civilized man is incorporated into his erotic desire. His taste and hence his choices are determined during this "sentimental education." It is as though his learning were for the sake of his sexuality. Reciprocally, though, much of the energy for that learning obviously comes from his sexuality. Nobody takes human children who have reached puberty to be adults. We properly sense that there is a long road to adulthood, the condition in which they are able to govern themselves and be true mothers and fathers. This road is the serious part of education, where animal sexuality becomes human sexuality, where instinct gives way in man to choice with regard to the true, the good, and the beautiful. Puberty does not provide man, as it does other animals, with all that he needs to leave behind others of his kind. This means that the animal part of his sexuality is intertwined in the most complex way with the higher reaches of his soul, which must inform the desires with its insight . . . 133-34

Needless to say, the culture of today encourages the very opposite of this. It would seek to reduce all things to matters of the physical; of instinct; of those things that can be discovered by the microscope or the statistical chart. Today's ideal is, as Bloom calls it, a "flat soul."

There are some who are men and women at the age of sixteen, who have nothing more to learn about the erotic. They are adult in the sense that they will no longer change very much. They may become competant specialists, but they are flat-souled. The world is to them what it presents itself to the senses to be; it is unadorned by imagination and devoid of ideals. This flat soul is what the sexual wisdom of our time conspires to make universal. 134

I don't think I've ever talked about sex on this blog before, and I don't plan to make such discussion a regular occurence. But perhaps even my slightly prudish attitude toward sex stems from a remnant of the idea that it is a merely physical thing that ought to be hidden or restricted or kept out of the way because it is inconvenient--without a vision of it as it should be, an animating human principle which gives energy to the development of the soul. In this sense, Christians have more to do with sexuality than their debauched, atheistic, materialistic friends, who engage in sexual activities Christians would rightly shun, but do so without any understanding of the purpose of their sexuality. These teleologically impoverished sinners place little value upon their sexuality, and throw it away because they do not understand that it, and they, have a God-ordained, and special purpose appropriate to the way they were created.

Philosophy: Packed with whole grain goodness; It will keep you regular or at least full of...

According to Edie Brickell, "philosophy is the talk on a cereal box." You remember the lyrics don't you? Sure you do. And you are probably humming the tune right now. Well, Edie also said that religion is the smile on a dog. That's so Bohemian. Anyway, what does she know? I really don't think she was aware of too many things.

However, she does put her finger on something important and that is the close affinity that many find between religion and philosophy. Within Christianity there has long been a persistent tension regarding the place of philosophy in Christian theology. In his famous treatise The Prescriptions against the Heretics, Tertullian (ca. 155–230) had some pretty harsh words to share regarding the the discipline of philosophy and those who do philosophy, namely "the philosophers." Here are a couple of fun quotes from Turtullian for you to drop the next time you are at a social gathering:

For worldly wisdom culminates in philosophy with its rash interpretation of God's nature and purpose. It is philosophy that supplies the heresies with their equipment.

A plague on Aristotle, who taught them dialectic, the art which destroys as much as it builds, which changes its opinion like a coat, forces its conjectures, is stubborn in argument, works hard at being contentious and is a burden even to itself.

What has Jerusalem to do with Athens, the Church with the Academy, the Christian with the heretic?

He is also often credited for having coined the phrase:

Credo quia absurdum: I believe because it is absurd

Perhaps Turtullian sounds like a bit of a cantankerous man. There may be some validity to that observation. However, before we roll our eyes one too many times at Turtullian's attitude toward philosophy, it is important to note that he was defending Christian orthodoxy against the likes of Marcion and other gnostic subversives. Indeed, Greek philosophy in the hands of such folks proved to be quite dangerous. And we should also be mindful that Turtullian did put in some important theological work. He coined another Latin phrase that became quite important to Christian orthodoxy, perhaps you have heard it before: Trinitatis (Trinity).

Of course, we might also want to keep in mind that Turtullian's anti-intellectual disposition probably had a great deal to do with why he ended up adopting Montanism. The staunch defender of orthodoxy ended up joining a highly ascetic and divergent "unorthodox" sect.

Of Course Turtullian's approach is quite different from other early Church leaders such as Justin Martyr. Justin implemented an important Greek phrase: logos spermatikos (seminal Word or seeds of the word). Justin borrowed from Plato and from the stoics (from whom he got this phrase). For Justin the bits of truth scattered throughout ancient philosophy are a reflection of the divine Logos.

Of course both of these approaches have been reflected throughout Christian history. There are traces of Turtullian's approach in the fideism of Blaise Pascal, the Christian existentialism of Søren Kierkegaard, the German Pietist movement, the Anabaptist, as well as in the voices of contemporary fundamentalism. (Not that I am saying that any of these people or movements are identical by any means).

And of Course, we find echoes of Justin's approach - at least in regard to faith, reason and philosophy - in the likes of Saint Augustine, Thomas Aquinas, John Calvin, and in academic theology the list goes on and on.

So what is one such as myself - who is crazy enough to want to dedicate a lifetime to taking up the task of theology -to make of all of this? The anti-intellectualism of the Turtullian approach has often lead to some pretty bad stuff: blind fundamentalism, strict biblicism and often an anti-tradition mentality. On the other hand, especially in the Reformed tradition - which I consider myself a part of - we can often become overly dependent on philosophy.

Is there a balance to be found? To anyone serious about answering that question, I offer the words of the Russian Orthodox theologian Vladimir Lossky. Regarding thoughts about time and eternity in the doctrine of creation, Lossky writes:

Theology does not have to beg explanations from philosophers: it alone can answer their problems, not against mystery and faith, but by nurturing the intellection of the mystery, by transforming it through faith, in a total commitment of the person. True theology goes beyond and transfigures metaphysics.

For Lossky, philosophy is but a tool that aids in the task of doing theology. And for Lossky - being thoroughly Eastern Orthodox - it is never theology for theology's sake. One does theology (aided by tradition, reason and experience) as part of the process of theosis. For Lossky - again being thoroughly Eastern Orthodox -the goal, the only goal worth dedicating all of ones life to, is communing with our precious triune God. And being ever transformed into the image and likeness of our God.

This is the only thing worth dedicating a lifetime to. It is worth my heart, my soul my all.

If you are interested in the task of theology or think seriously at all about the intersection of faith and reason, then please think on these things.

Blessings,
Wayne

IT WAS the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way- in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

From Book 1, Chapter 1, "The Period."

Reading Edmund Burke gives one an appreciation of the evils of the French Revolution. He writes in his Reflections on the Revolution in France,

"The very idea of the fabrication of a new government is enough to fill us with disgust and horror. We wished at the period of the revolution, and do now wish, to derive all that we possess as an inheritance from our forefathers." [36]

"From the Magna Charta to the Declaration of Right, it has been the uniform policy of our [English] constitution to claim and assert our liberties, as an entailed inheritance derived to us from our forefathers, and to be transmitted to our posterity . . ." [39]

"A spirit of innovation is generally the result of a selfish temper and confined views. People will not look forward to posterity, who never look backward to their ancestors . . . The institutions of policy, the goods of fortune, the gifts of Providence, are handed down, to us and from us, in the same course and order." [39]

"You [the French] had all these advantages in your antient [sic] states; but you chose to act as if you had never been moulded into civil society,  and had everything begun anew." [41-42]

Instead of rebelling against the established order, the French ought to have recognized:

". . . the happiness that is to be found by virtue in all conditions; in which consists the true moral equality of mankind, and not in that monstrous fiction, which by inspiring false ideas and vain expectations into men destined to travel in the obscure walk of laborious life, serves only to aggravate and imbitter that real inequality, which it can never remove . . ." [43]

Following the vain ideas of the philosophes got them into trouble:

"By following these false lights, France has bought undisguised calamaties at a higher price than any nation has purchased the most unequivocal blessings. France has bought poverty by crime! France has not sacrificed her virtue to her interests; but she has abandoned her interest, that she might prostitute her virtue. All other nations have begun the fabric of a new government, or the reformation of an old, by establishing originally, or by enforcing with greater exactness, some rites or other of religion." [44]

It had been the practice of the modern philosophers to cast out all that had come before, if it smacked at all of tradition, and to attempt the construction of a new and idea state based only upon the dictates of Enlightenment reason. Burke was no friend of this fervor. "Belief and incredulity" here stand opposed, as do Light and Darkness. When Dickens wrote of "some authorities" insisting that "it be received . . . in the superlative degree of comparison only, I suspect he meant those apologists for Enlightenment ways of thinking, vigorously opposed even up to the beginning of the twentieth century by traditionalist holdouts such as G.K. Chesterton.

Eric Voegelin comments on the idea of radical human progress the philosophes seemed to possess.

Self-salvation through knowledge has its own magic, and this magic is not harmless. The structure of the order of being will not change because one finds it defective and runs away from it. The attempt at world destruction will not destroy the world, but will only increase the disorder in society. The Gnostic's flight from a truly dreadful, confusing, and oppressive state of the world is understandable. But the order of the ancient world was renewed by that movement that strove through loving action to revive the practice of the "serious play" (to use Plato's expression)—that is, by Christianity.

The answer to oppression, in other words, is not to destroy the old order and attempt the engineering of a completely new and different one in its stead, but to return to the roots of Christianity and revive them. This is what happened in America and England during the Great Awakening. Rather than seeking after the spiritual, however, the French (justifiably) saw the Church as the seat of their problems, and attempted to do away with it altogether. They did not realize that the corrupt Christianity of French Catholicism was very different from the true Christianity which brings freedom to men and to nations.

This post is dedicated to "The Pickwick Society," for their appreciation of Dickens.

"Gnostic societies and their leaders will recognize dangers to their existence when they develop, but such dangers will not be met by appropriate actions in the world of reality. They will rather be met by magic operations in the dream world, such as disapproval, moral condemnation, declarations of intention, resolutions, appeals to the opinion of mankind, branding of enemies as aggressors, outlawing of war, propaganda for world peace and world government, etc." (170).

The bulk of modern international politics is just such "dream-world" operations, and this is the reason that it is so ineffective. It may seem a radical redefinition of paradigms to relegate most of modern diplomacy to the field of fantasy, but when we place the current era within a broader historical context, such accusations become more plausible. For instance, while Progressive U.S. President Theodore Roosevelt followed his motto, "Speak softly and carry a big stick," most twentieth-century Progressives eschew the "stick" and attempt to shout down their enemies on the diplomatic field without referring even to the threat of military intervention. As a result, "rogue regimes" are often given years to perpetrate crimes against humanity. Intervention, if and when it occurs, is inevitably more difficult and more dangerous, and is often strenuously opposed by immanentist intellectuals. This type of situation displays what Voegelin called "...the self-defeating character of Gnostic politics, that is, the oddity of continuous warfare in a time when every political society, through its representatives, professes its ardent desire for peace" (171). Writing before Korea and Vietnam and many other international conflicts had happened as a result of Socialist aggression and Progressive vacillation, Voegelin finds these fantasies even in the postwar actions of the Allies that left Europe and China vulnerable to Communist takeover:

"These policies were pursued as a matter of principle, on the basis of Gnostic dream assumptions about the nature of man, about a mysterious evolution of mankind toward peace and world order, about the possibility of establishing an international order in the abstract without relation to the structure of the field of existential forces, about armies being the cause of war and not the forces and constellations which build them and set them into motion, etc. . . . Gnostic politics, thus, is self-defeating in so far as its disregard for the structure of reality leads to continuous warfare" (172-73).

Paradoxically, it appears as if the only tradition that will ever produce any sort of effective peace, is also the one that promises its followers perpetual warfare; that is, the anti-gnostic Christian tradition. Christ told his followers that until His final return, there would always be conflict, and many times the world would be in direct opposition to them. There was no promise of a perfect state which they could advance through political or military action. "In the world you will have tribulation," He said, "but take heart; I have overcome the world" (John 16:33 ESV). We see that the nature of this overcoming is not manifested within the political realm; but God has made His kingdom instead within the hearts of men. Christ promises no perfect political society in this world. We read His words in the Gospel of Matthew:

"Many will come in my name saying, 'I am the Christ,' and they will lead many astray. And you will hear of wars and rumors of wars. See that you are not alarmed, for this must take place, but the end is not yet. For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom, and there will be famines and earthquakes in various places. All these are but the beginning of the birth pains. Then they will deliver you up to tribulation and put you to death, and you will be hated by all nations for my name's sake. And then many will fall away and betray one another and hate one another. And many false prophets will arise and lead many astray. And because lawlessness will be increased, the love of many will grow cold. But the one who endures to the end will be saved. And this gospel of the kingdom will be proclaimed throughout the whole world as a testimony to all nations, and then the end will come" (Matthew 24:5-14).

We see that the Kingdom of Christ on earth is a kingdom within men's souls, not in the political realm. We are to eschew those "false Christs" who lead many astray into foolish thinking, promising the advent of a perfect society. We are indeed to understand present evils, such as wars, famines, disease, and natural catastrophe, not as showing the immanence of some kind of parousia, but as flatly characteristic of the age between Christ's assumption and His final return. All our Lord's predictions in the passage quoted are not a checklist for His return, but a description of how the age will be.

It remains for us, then, to strive for a peace which will be far from the imagined Eschaton of immanentists--whether they envision the enlightened reign of the Millennium, or the universal "submission" of Islam. It is a rule of different nations and different forms of government appropriate to different cultures, but united in a sense of political realism and a proper understanding of the nature of man which lends itself to effective and fitting policies. It does not seek to bring about perfection, though it opposes wrongdoing and encourages the good. It recognizes that until the Second Coming which no man may bring about, the world will always be under the curse, and that only on the final day will sin and death be destroyed, and this sin-stained creation be replaced by the New Jerusalem of God.

Voegelin opines that "Whatever share of responsibility for the present plight may be laid on the doorsteps of progressivists and idealists, the most formidable source of imminent danger seems to be the activists" (173). Certainly in the short-term, the "activists," that is those who are attempting to force the eschaton through violent means, are the more immediate danger to peace. But in the long-term, the peaceful immanentist Progressives are just as much a danger to their democratic societies, because they lack the resolve to oppose the "activists," and so they lay their societies in the path of plunder and destruction. Indeed, the Europe Voegelin characterizes as being more "Gnostic" than the United States, has been capitulating to radical immanentist Islam in recent years much more rapidly than the United States, which retains a subtle but persistent tradition of Conservative thought. In recent years, this has expressed itself through the Bush administration's "War on Terror," a strong, realistic approach to confronting the threat of radical Islamic immanentists. What makes Bush's interventions humorous is the way he and other neoconservative apologists justify the war with the rhetoric of "democracy." "Democracy," vaguely defined, is the Ideal State of the progressives and idealists Voegelin criticizes. The myth is that if Democracy can once be established in a country, that the country will then be on the fast track to peace and prosperity. In reality, democracy is a very tenuous system, one that only functions in a state with strong prior beliefs in the rule of law, and a Christian respect for the value of the individual. One must not expect it to function at all in countries that for so long have been ruled by the will of the strongest faction; countries where followers of different religious tradition have declared military crusades against each other for years, and where corruption is a way of life. But this is a subject for another time. For application, consider how this immanentist "gnosticism" perpetuates the current situation in the Darfur region of Sudan.

The "radical Islamists" who run the nation of Sudan and who currently have power over the northern (Arab) region, subscribe to an ideology which sees religious dissent as tantamount to political treason. For this reason, the animists and Christians of (black) southern Sudan are persecuted. Meanwhile, the Progressive immantists of the international community, expressed most tangibly perhaps by the United Nations, wants to help but is tangled up in their bureaucratic sense of fairness and non-interference. Whereas, if they had their thinking straight, they would realize that the fundamental rights of man to which they subscribe, render the Sudanese government no government at all because of its dereliction of those rights. Also in the "canon" of Progressive belief is the idea that we have, or will soon progress to the point where war will no longer be necessary. This means that any resort to coercion will be seen as a step backwards. Unfortunately, this reluctance only aggravates the situation, as we see now in Darfur.

Perhaps the "Save Darfur" campaign, even if it does little to galvanize the United Nations, will stunt the growth of Progressivism among the young people of our country. If only we could get them to read Voegelin...