Moving the Ancient Boundaries – IV


This is a series on the erosion of moral, cultural, and ethical boundaries in modern society:
 
 ♦ Part 1 — Moving the Ancient Boundaries

 
 ♦ Part 2 — The Rebel & the Victim
 
 ♦ Part 3 — Undermining Civil Authority

 
stone walls

Do not move the ancient boundary stone
   set up by your forefathers.

        — Proverbs 22:28 —

 

 ♦ The Assault on Religious Authority

Undermining the legitimacy of civil authority and mutating the role of government into an instrument for protecting personal licentiousness — while endlessly chasing solutions to the incorrigible problems thus generated — is a key element in the secular postmodern pursuit of a utopian dream of unbridled freedom without consequences. But it is not sufficient; other centers of authority must likewise be transformed to serve the individual over the common good, or neutralized to overcome their resistance to such trends.

Religion, which promotes transcendent values, and strives to restrain destructive individualism and promote the common good through the development of character strengths such as service, charity, self-restraint, and accountability, is a prime alternative source of authority to government — and serves to restrain its excesses and aberrant tendencies as well. As such it is a prime target for the individualist committed to promoting an unrestrained and unaccountable utopia, enforced by the levers of government power.
Continue reading “Moving the Ancient Boundaries – IV”

Faith & Reason

Faith & Reason

RoseRon Suskind, in an article in the NY Times Magazine during the Bush vs. Gore election, Without a Doubt, addressed the issue of the faith of George W. Bush, and began as follows:

Bruce Bartlett, a domestic policy adviser to Ronald Reagan and a treasury official for the first President Bush, told me recently that if Bush wins, there will be a civil war in the Republican Party starting on Nov. 3. The nature of that conflict, as Bartlett sees it? Essentially, the same as the one raging across much of the world: a battle between modernists and fundamentalists, pragmatists and true believers, reason and religion.

Just in the past few months, Bartlett said, I think a light has gone off for people who’ve spent time up close to Bush: that this instinct he’s always talking about is this sort of weird, Messianic idea of what he thinks God has told him to do. Bartlett, a 53-year-old columnist and self-described libertarian Republican who has lately been a champion for traditional Republicans concerned about Bush’s governance, went on to say: This is why George W. Bush is so clear-eyed about Al Qaeda and the Islamic fundamentalist enemy. He believes you have to kill them all. They can’t be persuaded, that they’re extremists, driven by a dark vision. He understands them, because he’s just like them . . .

This is why he dispenses with people who confront him with inconvenient facts, Bartlett went on to say. He truly believes he’s on a mission from God. Absolute faith like that overwhelms a need for analysis. The whole thing about faith is to believe things for which there is no empirical evidence. Bartlett paused, then said, But you can’t run the world on faith.
There is much to address and analyze in this lengthy article, and no doubt others better versed on the credibility of its sources, the speciousness of its evidence, and its use of unconfirmed hearsay and biased sources will rise to the debate. But I was particularly struck by one line which I believe embodies the heart of the article’s core thesis:

He truly believes he’s on a mission from God. Absolute faith like that overwhelms a need for analysis. The whole thing about faith is to believe things for which there is no empirical evidence…

There is a name for someone who believes things for which there is no evidence: a fool.
Listening to the secular fundamentalists at the NY Times expound on the mind and heart of a man of the Christian faith is akin to a man blind from birth describing a rose: you are far more likely to hear about the thorns than the subtle colors and beauty of its petals.

“The whole thing about faith is to believe things for which there is no empirical evidence.”

Really??

The tension between faith and reason (or “reality”, as Suskind calls it) is hardly a new issue, reaching back centuries to such philosophers and theologians as Augustine, Thomas Aquinas, and even Plato and Aristotle. Aquinas has the most fully developed exposition on the seeming dichotomy between that which is discernible to the senses or by logical deduction, and that which is revelation and mystery. Far greater minds than ours have taken–and mastered–this challenge.

“There is a name for someone who believes things for which there is no evidence: a fool.”

And I suspect most journalists for the NY Times would find this an apt assessment of President Bush–and by inference, his religious supporters, lumped together under the tattered banner of the “religious right”. As a believing Christian, therefore, I am a proxy target for this accusation. And as a blogger, it is my duty to reply.

So, is this thing called faith really a fantasy, a trust and hope in some unseen, unprovable philosophy or myth? Most definitely not. There are, from my perspective, quite a few objective reality-based foundations for that which I believe. Among these are:

  • Historical: The Christian faith is a historical faith. It is based on an individual, Jesus Christ, who lived in history, verified as real not only by His followers (and enemies) but by detached historians with no agenda to promote. The core convictions of this faith are easily demonstrable, not only in its sacred texts, the Scripture, but in writings and teachings of men from many cultures and times, from the earliest years following the death of Christ continuously to the present. The accuracy of its ancient sacred texts is nothing short of stunning, supported by an exponentially greater volume of manuscripts and archaeological evidence than any other ancient writings. If the Old and New Testament were not religious texts, there would be no academic dispute about their veracity and reliability. They are challenged because they shine a light on the darkness of the human heart, and make uncomfortable demands on human behavior and belief. If you can prove the judge is a corrupt impersonator, you dodge the sentence for your crimes; if he is unimpeachable, you’re busted.

  • Relational: There are several aspects to the relational nature of Christianity which serve as evidence for its reality. People do not arrive at Christian conviction by lightning bolt or holy vision, but rather by their relationship with others who hold the faith. We witness the effects of Christianity on the lives of others, and are led to consider it not only because of what they say, but far more by what we observe. Few of us would buy a car without talking to other car owners, reading reviews, and taking it for a drive. While not a guarantee of a good car, we consider such information valuable evidence in making our decision. While such evidence can be misleading–people are often seduced into cults by an appealing but deceptive attractiveness, for example–it is nevertheless evidence of the veracity of faith when carefully considered and weighed against other facts and observations.

  • The evidence of Christianity is … revealed in its ability to transform relationships. The evidence of Christianity is also revealed in its ability to transform relationships. Many Christians can testify to the healing and restoration of relationships with spouses, children, employers, between races, class and ethnic groups. Are all Christians so transformed? Not by any means, unfortunately. But the evidence of those who have been–often resolving seemingly hopeless situations and personal divisions–should not be dismissed outright because of the incompleteness of its scope. Do we do abandon chemotherapy because not all survive?

  • Experiential: Christianity is both doctrinal and experiential: it is comprised of a series of assertions to truth, but is not simply a belief system; it affects–often profoundly–the lives, convictions and experiences of those who follow it. While this is easy to challenge with claims of a purely emotional or psychological basis for such experience, in reality it is not so lightly dismissed. While short-term behavioral change can occur as a result of emotional experiences, and delusional thinking in mental illness can result in bizarre behavior, the vast majority of practicing Christians do not fit this mold. When people from all walks of life–responsible, sane citizens whose behavior is ordinary in every other way–profess their ability to overcome profound personal shortcomings, relationship disasters, personal tragedy or devastating misfortune with a peace and inner strength not available to them apart from their faith, is it not reasonable to conclude that something profound has happened, not attributable to the impotency of pop psychology? Might there not be a plausible explanation involving a Being greater, wiser, and more gracious and loving than ourselves from which such resources come? Scientific proof, no, but certainly evidence not to be dismissed out of hand.

    John Edwards is right: there are two Americas–just not the two he imagines. The divide places secular and liberal religious (often no more than thinly-disguised socialism, with little connection to historical Judeo-Christian belief) on one side, and people of faith on the other, with lives quietly transformed by God and a vision expanded beyond the tight constraints of materialistic or political thinking. For the secular, religion is like borrowing a sports coat at a fancy restaurant when you’ve forgotten yours: you use it to get your meal and drink wine with your friends, then shed the ill-fitting garment at the earliest possible time. There is a deep discomfort with and mistrust among the secular of anyone who claims such superficial window dressing could actually guide, direct or empower the lives of others.

    I cannot presume to speak for the mind or spirit of the President. But many of us who have experienced the inner transformation which faith alone brings, sense in the man a like mind and heart, which despite sometimes strong differences in policy or politics gives us confidence in his inner compass and core principles. Such conviction in our experience leads to discernment, rejecting well-intentioned but misguided advice, and pursuing goals judged to be noble and right despite the high costs of doing so. Faith does not overwhelm analysis; it sharpens and directs it. This is something that political speeches in churches or talk of boyhood altar boy service can imitate, but cannot replicate.

    The jacket just doesn’t fit the man.

Intellectual Giants, Moral Midgets

Intellectual Giants, Moral Midgets


(Note: This post has been edited from the original to include citations from the article in the New York Times Magazine in 2004 on selective abortion, which is no longer available free of charge).

Amy Richard’s article on her selective fetal reduction in the NY Times Magazine (registration required) was previously reviewed in the National Review Online (see here) and elsewhere. It should be read by everyone with an interest in the abortion debate, or the general state of the culture wars in 21st century America.

Richards begins her story:

I’m 34. My boyfriend, Peter, and I have been together three years. I’m old enough to presume that I wasn’t going to have an easy time becoming pregnant. I was tired of being on the pill, because it made me moody. Before I went off it, Peter and I talked about what would happen if I became pregnant, and we both agreed that we would have the child.

I found out I was having triplets when I went to my obstetrician. The doctor had just finished telling me I was going to have a low-risk pregnancy. She turned on the sonogram machine. There was a long pause, then she said, ”Are you sure you didn’t take fertility drugs?” I said, ‘I’m positive.’ Peter and I were very shocked when she said there were three. ‘You know, this changes everything,’ she said. ‘You’ll have to see a specialist.’

My immediate response was, I cannot have triplets. I was not married; I lived in a five-story walk-up in the East Village; I worked freelance; and I would have to go on bed rest in March. I lecture at colleges, and my biggest months are March and April. I would have to give up my main income for the rest of the year. There was a part of me that was sure I could work around that. But it was a matter of, Do I want to?

I looked at Peter and asked the doctor: ‘Is it possible to get rid of one of them? Or two of them?’ The obstetrician wasn’t an expert in selective reduction, but she knew that with a shot of potassium chloride you could eliminate one or more.

Having felt physically fine up to this point, I got on the subway afterward, and all of a sudden, I felt ill. I didn’t want to eat anything. What I was going through seemed like a very unnatural experience. On the subway, Peter asked, ‘Shouldn’t we consider having triplets?’ And I had this adverse reaction: ‘This is why they say it’s the woman’s choice, because you think I could just carry triplets. That’s easy for you to say, but I’d have to give up my life.’ Not only would I have to be on bed rest at 20 weeks, I wouldn’t be able to fly after 15. I was already at eight weeks. When I found out about the triplets, I felt like: It’s not the back of a pickup at 16, but now I’m going to have to move to Staten Island. I’ll never leave my house because I’ll have to care for these children. I’ll have to start shopping only at Costco and buying big jars of mayonnaise. Even in my moments of thinking about having three, I don’t think that deep down I was ever considering it.


At every level, Ms. Richard’s story displays the moral vacuousness of the contemporary secular mindset. First, there is the impermanence of the relationships which will bear and raise children. She never indicates any consideration of marriage to her boyfriend, either while anticipating a pregnancy or after her child is born. Then there is the casual nature of the decision to have a child. She stops the pill because of hormone-driven moodiness, nobly deciding to keep the inevitable trophy child rather than suffer the agonies of monthly menstrual misery. She never once considers the implications for her child, or the society he or she will inhabit, inherent in her decision to raise him in an intrinsically unstable and uncommitted parental relationship. Finally there is the stunning reflex decision to terminate one or more of her unborn children when the serpent jaws of a self-gratifying lifestyle arise. No thought of a moral or ethical dilemna ever crosses her mind as she clutches for the salvation of a syringe of potassium chloride.

Ms. Richards sees her specialist, and relates the experience of her selective reduction:

The specialist called me back at 10 p.m. I had just finished watching a Boston Pops concert at Symphony Hall. As everybody burst into applause, I watched my cellphone vibrating, grabbed it and ran into the lobby. He told me that he does a detailed sonogram before doing a selective reduction to see if one fetus appears to be struggling. The procedure involves a shot of potassium chloride to the heart of the fetus. There are a lot more complications when a woman carries multiples. And so, from the doctor’s perspective, it’s a matter of trying to save the woman this trauma. After I talked to the specialist, I told Peter, ‘That’s what I’m going to do.’ He replied, ‘What we’re going to do.’ He respected what I was going through, but at a certain point, he felt that this was a decision we were making. I agreed.

When we saw the specialist, we found out that I was carrying identical twins and a stand alone. My doctors thought the stand alone was three days older. There was something psychologically comforting about that, since I wanted to have just one. Before the procedure, I was focused on relaxing. But Peter was staring at the sonogram screen thinking: Oh, my gosh, there are three heartbeats. I can’t believe we’re about to make two disappear. The doctor came in, and then Peter was asked to leave. I said, ‘Can Peter stay?’ The doctor said no. I know Peter was offended by that.
Let us not forget about the professional, clinically detached physician who delivers the deadly syringe to carefully selected unborn babies. The lifesaving miracle of high resolution ultrasound and fetal intervention selecting those twins whose crime was being several days too young.

Despite the high-minded rhetoric about “choice” in the abortion debate, at its heart abortion is about unfettered sex, or in the larger moral context, the pursuit of self-gratifying behavior while refusing to accept its inevitable consequences. Spiritual principles, much like the laws of physics, cannot be violated without consequences. No matter how fervently I believe I can fly, flapping my arms while jumping off tall buildings will always make me an unsuitable client for my life insurance company. Violating spiritual laws results in even more pervasive effects, since the spiritual tsunamis roll not merely through our own lives, but those of everyone we touch, both near and far. Unlike the violation of physical laws, however, the consequences are far more easily denied, rationalized, and minimized when they are in the realm of the spirit.

In the secular mindset, sexual “freedom” trumps all; the death of the unborn fruits of this behavior is not considered too high a price to pay. Any moral qualms about the ghastly consequences to the child can be mitigated by redefining language – an unborn child becomes a “fetus,” a “product of conception”—to move us a few steps farther away from the uncomfortable and convicting truth. Then we change the subject to a more defensible arena: abortion is about “freedom”, and “choice,” and “women’s health,” and “rights”—all straw-man targets far harder to attack than the crumbling and indefensible edifice at the core of the issue: snuffing out a unique, defenseless human being to promote and enable a self-centered, self-gratifying way of life. Amy Richards has given us a rare, inadvertently honest look into the dark soul of secularism, and its holy sacrament of abortion. We should look long and hard, and never forget, what the inevitable outcome of contemporary secularism will produce: shallow, empty humanity, exterminating our young to preserve our shopping preferences.

Our culture is advanced beyond the wildest imaginations of those even a century ago. We clone sheep; take stunning pictures of Saturn from its rings; perform robotic surgery; retrieve information in seconds with web browsers that formerly took years to acquire, if ever. We as a society are intellectual giants in history. Yet as our knowledge increases exponentially, our wisdom withers: we are just as truly moral midgets.

Liberalism & Gnosticism

Liberalism & Gnosticism

Sunset Sky
It takes only a brief review of conservative web sites, print media, and pundit blogs to be left with the impression of a deep frustration with liberalism. Not merely the disagreement with their beliefs and priorities, mind you — that is a given — but rather with their peculiar unresponsiveness to arguments of reason and logic. The scenario goes something like this: Some Democrat in Congress or liberal pundit makes an outrageous charge about conservatives, or foreign policy, or Republicans, or Christians, or whatever. The conservative blogs explode with the news, followed shortly by detailed rebuttal of the charges, or ample testimony to prior events proving the hypocrisy of the attack. Well-reasoned, factual defense is generally the rule rather than the exception. Yet all is to no avail. Those on the Left either shrug, or respond with even more outrageous accusations, or go ad hominem. I often wonder whether all this energy and effort has accomplished anything beyond making us feel better about ourselves and venting our frustration.

I believe the problem is that we don’t understand liberals and liberalism–at least in its current manifestation. Now, before you start thinking I’m having a kumbaya moment, hear me out: we don’t understand liberals because contemporary liberalism is the new Gnosticism.

Gnosticism as a religion is ancient–predating Christianity by at least several centuries, and coexisting with it for several more before largely dying out. It was in many ways a syncretic belief system, drawing elements from virtually every religion it touched: Buddhism, Indian pantheism, Greek philosophy and myth, Jewish mysticism, and Christianity.

Gnosticism (from the Greek gnosis, to know, or knowledge) was manifested in many forms and sects, but all shared common core beliefs: dualism, wherein the world was evil and the immaterial good; the importance of secret knowledge, magical in nature, by which those possessing such knowledge could overcome the evil of the material world; and pantheism. It was also a profoundly pessimistic belief system. As J.P. Arendzen, in his excellent summary of Gnosticism, explains:

This utter pessimism, bemoaning the existence of the whole universe as a corruption and a calamity, with a feverish craving to be freed from the body of this death and a mad hope that, if we only knew, we could by some mystic words or action undo the cursed spell of this existence—this is the foundation of all Gnostic thought … Gnosticism is pseudo-intellectual, and trusts exclusively to magical knowledge.
So in what ways is modern liberalism Gnostic in nature?

First and foremost, in modern liberalism, what you believe is more important than how you act. Gnostic sects were often hedonistic – after all, since you possess special knowledge of the truth, and the physical world is evil, why pursue noble behavior with an inherently wicked material body? While not all – or even most – liberals are hedonistic (although Hollywood does come to mind…), contemporary liberalism has enshrined tolerance of hedonism as a core belief.

More fundamentally, there is a disconnect in liberalism between belief and action. As a result, there is no such thing as hypocrisy. So the National Organization of Women, tireless in its campaign on violence against women, sexual harassment, and the tyranny of men in the workplace and in society, stood wholeheartedly behind Bill Clinton, who used a dim-witted intern for sex (in the workplace, moreover!), and who was credibly charged with sexual assault on Juanita Brodderick. Hypocrisy? No, Bill Clinton “understood” women and women’s issues —his knowledge trumped his behavior, no matter how despicable.

There are many such similar examples, once you start looking for them. I recall a gay activist on NPR instructing his interviewer that the solution to “anti-gay intolerance” (i.e., anyone who had qualms about homosexuality, either in its morality or social agenda) was “education.” If we religious or socially conservative cretins were only properly “educated” —if and when we finally “got it” —then all of our concerns about homosexuality would melt away like an ice sculpture in August.

It is no accident that many of our most liberal intellectuals reside in the universities, in the rarefied atmosphere where ideas are everything and their practical application moot. We conservatives often marvel at the naivety of the peace movement, where World Peace can be achieved if only we “visualize” it. Like the magic formulas used by the Gnostics to dispel evil spirits and emanations, simply believing that peace can be achieved by “loving one another,” and mutual understanding is sufficient to transform those intent on evil, destruction, and domination. Human shields defend tyrannical monsters who would shred them in a heartbeat were they not so useful, in order to “put an end to war.” Judges implement rulings based on higher Sophia rather than the law, blissfully dismissing their profound impact on the Great Unknowing Masses beneath them.

The profound pessimism of the Gnostic world view is seen in contemporary liberalism as well. If ever there was a gentle giant in history–a nation overwhelmingly dominant yet benign in its use of power —it is the United States of the 20th and 21st century. Yet we are treated to an endless litany of tirades about our racist, sexist, imperialist ways, which will only end when the Left “takes America back” —ignoring that a nation so administered would cease to exist in short order. American liberalism was not always so. As recently as twenty years ago, it was optimistic, hopeful and other-oriented, albeit with misconceptions about human nature which proved the undoing of its policies and programs. Only at its farthest fringes did pessimism reign, but today this dark view is increasingly the dominant one.

Analogies have their limits, as does this one. Ancient Gnosticism was deeply religious, although pantheistic, whereas modern liberal thinking is profoundly secular and agnostic, for example. But even here similarities persist: how many New Age conservatives do you know? Modern secular liberalism is far more religion than political philosophy, and therefore largely resistant to confrontation or compromise based on logic and reason.

Gnosticism as a religious force collapsed of its own weight, crippled by its internal inconsistencies and the lack of power sufficient to transform and ennoble the human spirit. Yet failed ideas die hard, given the intransigence of human pride. How very odd that our predominant postmodern political philosophy is so ancient in origin.

The Law of Rules

The Law of Rules

DaisiesIn contemporary political discourse, we often discuss the Rule of Law, especially in our postmodern culture where bad behavior is often justified (and excused) by situation, upbringing, or historical injustice. But no one ever talks about the Law of Rules.

Recently in the office I reviewed one of Medicare’s bulletins, clarifying (at least in intent, if not in practice) their regulations in some arcane area of reimbursement for surgical procedures. Few outside of the health care field have any idea of the complexity of regulations governing medicine. When last I checked some years ago, Medicare had about 150,000 pages of regulations in the Federal Register, approximately 3 times of the volume of the IRS tax code. American medicine is more highly regulated than Soviet state industry ever was, and getting more so by the day.

Without launching into a diatribe on the evils of government-funded and regulated medicine (perhaps another time), it strikes me that the explosive growth of rules, laws, and regulations in society as a whole is a reflection of an underlying shift in our culture, values, and individual moral integrity.

There are two ways to encourage good behavior in individuals and society: from within or from without. Human beings are morally flawed (a surprisingly controversial statement in our current, “values neutral” culture), and therefore in order to maintain a peaceful, stable, functioning society, laws – and the means to enforce them – are required. Laws exist not for the good in man, but rather for the evil, as a restraining force. If man were morally perfect, no laws would be necessary. Yet law cannot create morality, but serves only to protect the good in society from the evil. The more moral goodness exists in a society–restraint from harming one’s neighbor, acts of service, honesty, integrity — the fewer laws are needed and the better those laws already in place function. As individuals (and consequently the society they constitute) change from being other-oriented and self-restrained to self-centered and self-seeking, the more law-breaking occurs, the greater the enforcement required, and the more laws are required to manage and restrict human behavior. Hence the Law of Rules: Rules beget more rules.

We humans are intelligent, resourceful beings who are ever looking for new ways to achieve the goals and desires important to us. If our intent is to deceive, steal, or harm, there is almost always a way around existing law to accomplish our aims. The result of this is twofold: harsher enforcement of existing laws and more laws to cover the loopholes discovered by our innovative selves, as society seeks to protect itself. Hence the result of a deterioration in individual moral restraint is both more laws and harsher penalties. The logical end result of such a progression is something resembling totalitarianism: there are laws about everything, and brutal punishment for their violation — selectively applied, invariably.

We often hear totalitarian regimes such as China or the former Soviet Union boast of their low crime rates and the safety of their streets. And Islamic countries and cultures often proclaim their inherently higher moral status over us libertines in the West, cutting off the hands of robbers and the like. But while it is possible in large measure to restrict behavior through law and retribution, such measures do not make a society or its individuals moral as a consequence. In fact, the effect is quite the opposite. Laws intended to restrict evil behavior often have the unintended consequence of negatively impacting those intent on good. So, for example, the law designed to discourage fraud in Medicare by the few (a worthy goal) results in less time for patient care, restriction of access to care by the needy, and the exodus of good health care providers to other professions to escape their crushing burden — all bad outcomes affecting far more people than the few who would game the system. One need only look at the extreme effects of Islamic teaching on some of its more, , exemplary adherents, with the wanton murdering of women, children, unbelievers–and even other Muslims–to conclude that constrictive law-abiding society does not promote moral goodness as a consequence.

What’s the answer? Other than a fundamental reversal in individual moral virtue–an inside-out change–I fear there are few good alternatives. But I am not gloom-and-doom about the prospects for such change–I have seen and know of too many who have undergone such a change to be pessimistic, and am convinced of the existence of a God capable of implementing such change.