Category Archives: Religion

Dune: Cynical and Yet Pro-Life

[Reading Dune for the first time] Update 4: A couple observations on what I’ve read so far.

Paul Atriedes and Lady Jessica, son and mother, are both highly trained in the Bene Gesserit order. Jessica was a nun (if that’s the right word for her position) before being sold to Duke Leto as a concubine. You can see in that statement why nun doesn’t seem like the precise word for her. Others call her a witch and call the Eastern mystical quality of Bene Gesserit ways witchcraft. But what they do doesn’t look like magic at all. It looks like highly accurate intuition, mental processing power, and even kung fu.

At the same time, Jessica frequently criticizes signs of manipulative indoctrination she finds on the desert planet. There’s no indication of universal truths or God Almighty who calls people on every planet to himself. They never speak of faith, only of training. It seems somewhat, but not entirely, secularized.

Contrasted with this is faith of the Fremen, which Jessica would say has been delivered to them by emissaries of the Missionaria Protectiva. This part of the Bene Gesserit order is defined in the glossary as being “charged with sowing infectious superstitions on primitive worlds, thus opening those regions to exploitation.” Paul looks at the honest faith of the Fremen as a seedbed for jihad.

If the Atriedes would speak of universal moral truths or spiritual realities just once, it could remove the cynical smear of every other characterization of faith. But I don’t think they will.

Despite their jaded religious training, they take a remarkably pro-life stance on Jessica’s unborn child. Several times Jessica’s pregnancy has come up, never in the bizarrely clinical way some people talk today, and at a point when she feels compelled to risk her life for the greater good, Jessica asks herself if she has the right to risk the life of her child as well. In 2021 A.D. America, that’s an incredible statement!

I’m a little worried matriarchs of the Bene Gesserit order will emerge to play the part of Big Organized Religion Bent on Evil. Maybe they won’t in this book.

Photo by Francesco Ungaro on Unsplash

‘Rings of Love’

The other day somebody on F*cebook shared a fine article on J. R. R. Tolkien from the archives (2002) of Touchstone Magazine. It’s about love and happens to have been written by Dale Nelson, a Tolkien scholar and a close personal friend of mine:

Tolkien told one of his sons about his young love for Edith in a letter, written after her death. “I met the Lúthien Tinúviel of my own personal ‘romance’ with her long dark hair, fair face and starry eyes, and beautiful voice” in 1908, when he was 16 and she was 19. Very soon after they married, he was captivated by his wife’s dancing, for him alone, when he was an army officer on leave from the Great War, in 1917, and they slipped away to “a woodland glade filled with hemlocks” in Yorkshire. And that moment was the origin of the myth of Beren and Lúthien, Tolkien wrote to another of their sons.

Read the whole thing here.

‘A Wolf At the Gate,’ by Lexie Conyngham

I was pretty happy with this book at the beginning – A Wolf At the Gate, by Lexie Conyngham, offered pretty good prose, along with evidence of some serious research on Viking Age life. But as I read on, I grew less happy with it.

Ketil, the apparent hero of the book, is in the service of Earl Thorfinn of Orkney (which sets the story in time a little later than my Erling books). Ketil generally operates outside of Orkney, and he’s about to sail away, but the earl calls him back to investigate a murder. Ketil solved a previous killing for the earl, so he’s assumed to be good at that sort of thing.

Secret murder is rare among the Norse, and this murder is all the more puzzling because the victim, a man in the earl’s service named Steinar (recently back from Colonia in Saxony, which I take to mean Cologne) seems to have been universally liked. He was a devout Christian, rather strict about church rules, but harsh only with himself. Someone split his skull with an axe in front of his own house.

I said that Ketil was the apparent hero of this book, because he is in fact just the Inspector Lestrade here. The real detective is a woman named Sigrid, a childhood friend of Ketil’s who now lives as a widow in Orkney. She was the one who actually solved the previous murder. Gradually she and Ketil renew their friendship – there’s some suppressed attraction there, but both of them deny it. Together they consider the multiple puzzles that face them – does the murder of a man just back from Colonia have anything to do with the fact that an abbot from Colonia is visiting the island? Does someone covet Steinar’s beautiful wife? Or was the killer Ketil’s follower Lambi, who seems to be a sneak thief?

The further I read in this book, the more disappointed I grew. First of all, the characterizations were fairly flat, especially the male characters. Author Conyngham seems to have a problem I’ve often noticed in books by women – she doesn’t get men at all. There’s a famous line (unjust but funny) in (I think) the movie, As Good As It Gets, where Jack Nicholson, asked how he writes women so well says, “I think of a man. And I take away reason and accountability.” Conyngham writes men by thinking of a woman, and taking away any clue.

Also, the story began to bore me. Although the plot gets sweetened by further murders, I never felt any sense of urgency, any idea that great things were at stake.

Also, the narrative falls into what I believe to be serious factual falsehoods about the Christian church. It’s not an anti-Christian book as such, since most of the serious Christians are depicted sympathetically. But the author states and reiterates – and this is a major plot element – that the Catholic church denied baptism to the children of slaves, and to deformed babies.

I had never heard of this before. It entirely contradicted my own understanding of the matter. Now maybe author Conyngham, whose biography says she’s a historian, knows something I don’t know. But my online searches find documentation directly contradicting these contentions.

On the issue of slaves, this article from Christianity Today, by Rodney Stark, is behind a paywall. But the passage I need is right there above the barrier —  “That the Church willingly baptized slaves was claimed as proof that they had souls, and soon both kings and bishops—including William the Conqueror (1027-1087) and Saints Wulfstan (1009-1095) and Anselm (1033-1109)—forbade the enslavement of Christians.”

I also found numerous references online to the historical fact that the early Christians made it a practice to hunt through the dumping sites where the Romans – quite legally – habitually discarded their unwanted babies. The Christians would baptize these infants, adopt them, and raise them in the church. One of the primary excuses the Romans gave for “exposing” babies this way was that they were born deformed.

So in the end I was both bored and irritated by A Wolf At the Gates. Too bad. It showed promise.

Writing advice: Paragraphs

Photo credit: Thom Milkovic @ thommilkovic, via Unsplash

I’m deep in translation work right now, but not the paying kind. I’m translating another article for the Georg Sverdrup Society, whose journal I edit. (Sverdrup, in case you don’t want to bother with the Wikipedia link, was a founding father of Augsburg Seminary and College in Minneapolis, and of The Lutheran Free Church, which no longer exists. Its principles are carried on by The Association of Free Lutheran Congregations, to which I belong.) Sverdrup isn’t the easiest writer to translate, though I’ve translated far worse (see below). But this article is harder than usual, Sverdrup wrote it early in his career, before he immigrated to the US, and he hadn’t figured out yet that paragraphs shouldn’t run a whole page in length.

Hans Nielsen Hauge was far worse, though. I’ve written about him before, both here and in The American Spectator. He was the peasant preacher who sparked a revival in Norway around the turn of the 19th Century. Hauge was a man full of Christian zeal, but with little education. I’ve translated some of his books – all this is unpublished to date – and a couple of them feature long, long sections with no paragraph breaks at all. The man was not cerebral; he was an enthusiast. He sat down with pen and paper and just wrote whatever his spirit put into his mind. Thank the Lord for Post-It Notes (which got their inspiration, by the way, in church); without them it would be almost impossible to keep your place as you work your way through books like that. (Oddly enough, Art Fry, who got the Post-It idea in church, worked for Augsburg College, which I mentioned in the previous paragraph. This fact seems like it should be significant, but is not, so it doesn’t rate a paragraph of its own.)

It all comes down to something C. S. Lewis wrote… somewhere. Might have been a letter to a kid. He said that when you write badly, you’re asking the reader to do your work for you. It’s your job to a) think out what you want to say, and b) say it as clearly and comprehensibly as possible, without putting roadblocks in the reader’s way.

In case you’re unclear on how this is done, you basically change paragraphs whenever you move on to a new idea. It’s like a subheading in an outline. If your paragraphs vary in length, that’s perfectly fine. Some paragraphs can even be one sentence. In extreme situations, one word will do.

In the old days, when reading material was rare and relatively expensive, people with the reading bug would read pretty much anything they could get their hands on. If you rode into a town in the early American west, any reading material you brought with you would be eagerly borrowed – old newspapers were especially prized, and it didn’t matter how out of date they were.

But those days are past. Today you need to fight for your readership. Keeping your paragraphs short – and congruent with your narrative purpose – is a way of working with your reader.

Like all rules, there are exceptions. But exceptions to this rule are pretty darn rare.

‘Confessions of a Charismatic Christian,’ by Rick Dewhurst

In spite of the fact that I’ve never given any of his novels a rave review, Rick Dewhurst keeps alerting me to his new books. This argues a level of spiritual humility which I can only admire. I like his writing style, but I don’t think he’s ever found his real vehicle.

He has a new book out now, in a different genre entirely. It’s a spiritual memoir called Confessions of a Charismatic Christian.

It wasn’t, frankly, what I expected. I was anticipating something along the lines of C. S. Lewis’s Surprised By Joy. The plan here is somewhat different. These Confessions are a series of spiritual lessons, each headed by an experience (not related chronologically) from the author’s own life. Sometimes a miraculous one.

I don’t mean to disparage the book’s plan, but I would have enjoyed reading more about the life that produced such an intriguing writer. But it’s a capital mistake to judge a book by what you think it should be, rather than what the author chose to create.

I had some difficulty with the early chapters, which are the heaviest on the charismatic lessons. Rick is the pastor of a charismatic congregation in British Columbia. Although I myself spent time on the periphery of the charismatic movement back in the ‘70s, I have since joined a church that takes a skeptical attitude toward signs and wonders (though not denying their possibility). So I wasn’t entirely in sympathy with a lot of that part. But as I read on, I found more and more material that was profound and edifying for everyone.

I thought the writing a little discursive – the text could have been tightened up some. And the tone is sometimes unnecessarily apologetic. But Confessions of a Charismatic Christian was an edifying book from a seasoned pastor. Worth reading.

I sing of Capitalism

No book to review tonight. And that’s tragic, because it leaves me no alternative but to write down my thoughts. You’ve been warned.

The question is perpetual. People ask, “If you’re a Christian, why aren’t you a socialist? Didn’t Jesus tell us to share what we owned with the poor? Didn’t the Jerusalem church in Acts practice common ownership of property? Doesn’t it make you a hypocrite to promote capitalism, which is based on greed?”

A natural question. And one that’s been addressed numerous times. So what I’m about to say is far from original.

I support capitalism because I’m a Christian, with a Christian world view.

Capitalism recognizes the biblical view of Man, which is that Man is fallen and sinful by nature. Greedy, among his other faults. Capitalism recognizes that this is true of everyone – rich and poor, male and female, regardless of race.

Capitalism restrains (or tries to restrain) one greedy man who has achieved wealth from dominating everyone around him. It forces him to compete with other greedy men in order to achieve further wealth. This gives a certain amount of power to the consumer, who is likely much poorer than the rich guys.

It’s a system for controlling greed through the distribution of power.

Socialism is based on a non-Christian view of Man, that Man is basically innocent, just corrupted by a perverted society that has somehow evolved (it’s never explained how that happened if Man is innocent). The classic expression of this view is Rousseau’s “Man was born free, but is everywhere in chains.”

Socialism assumes that if those societal chains (chains of wealth, power, class, gender, race, etc.) are removed, innocent Man will blossom into his natural virtue, and the world will become an Eden.

This plan has never worked. And when it fails, Socialist True Believers have no alternative but to look for scapegoats. “The plan was perfect! Based on science! So if it fails, it must be the fault of wreckers! Find these wreckers, and eliminate them!”

Thus the inevitable re-education camps and gulags.

That’s what happens when you try to enforce Christian love without the change of heart wrought by the gospel. Also when you try to perfect the human heart through force of law.

Ever read the epistles of Paul? A fair proportion of their text involves appeals for funds, to help feed the socialist church in Jerusalem, which is now starving.

If We Win the Leaders, Will We Win the Nation?

I gather family devotions is a challenge for everyone. I remember my parents pulling us together a couple times for what resembled the semblance of something like a worship service. It was awkward. I didn’t like it. My father-in-law regularly read from the Bible after supper, so that’s the pattern that drew me in.

Since we have homeschooled our kids from the beginning, my wife read through the Bible with them during the morning routine. That and my desire to read something that applied the Word, if not strictly devotional, is what steered me toward reading through Christian books instead of the Bible. We read a few of Jared C. Wilson’s books, at least a couple of Jerry Bridges’s. After using the Advent readings from our church, I was at a loss for what to start next. My wife suggested a few of the small books from our shelf, and that’s what got us into Richard Wurmbrand’s Tortured for Christ.

This ain’t light reading. Wurmbrand is a Romanian minister from Bucharest who grew up atheist and came to faith through reading the Bible. He became an leader of the Underground Church after Communism began to strangle all of its citizens. What he and other believers suffered was demonic.

He writes like a missionary, as you would expect, and one of his principles provoked us to push back. He advocates winning people of influence first.

How was Norway won for Christ? By winning King Olaf. Russia first had the Gospel when its king, Vladimir, was won. Hungary was won by winning St. Stephen, its king. The same with Poland. In Africa, wehre the chief of the tribe has been won, the tribe follows. We setup missions to rank-and-life men who may become very fine Christians, but who have little influence and cannot change the state of things.

We must win rulers: political, economic, scientific, artistic personalities. They are the engineers of souls. They mold the souls of men. Winning them, you win the people they lead and influence.

Wurmbrand might have looked to the book of Daniel and asked whether Nebuchadnezzar’s repent and apparent faith did anything to turn Babylon around or the sympathy King Darius had for Daniel bore any fruit. Who was saved when Jonah preached to Ninevah? That nation was blessed by avoiding God’s wrath for a few generations, but when Nahum returned 150 years later, he said, “And all who look at you will shrink from you and say, ‘Wasted is Nineveh; who will grieve for her?'”

Certainly a people are blessed by Christian leaders. A society organized on biblical values is better overall than any other society, but it would not usher in faith for anyone by mere leadership. When civil leaders turn a country to Christ, it isn’t often by Christian means. The faithless see opportunity and take it by declaring themselves faithful.

God uses society and influence in ways we don’t often foresee. Remember how he has told us to care for widows and orphans. They aren’t the influential ones today, but they could be tomorrow. A common result would be that they seek Christ wherever they go and repeat the truth to a family or congregation, thereby keeping a few more people on the straight and narrow. Who can say this is an unambitious plan?

‘The Beauty Doesn’t Stop on Christmas Day’

Matthew’s Gospel has the account of the Magi’s visit, and it never occurred to me to wonder why “all the chief priests and scribes of the people” didn’t go with them to Bethlehem. Did they write them off as pagans on a goose hunt?

Valerie Thur makes this point as she writes about how much she has longed for Epiphany this season. In this story of eastern wise men,

we see God for who he is: the Savior of all nations for all time. The same God who perfectly orchestrated Israel’s history so that he was born of the line of David created a specific heavenly object so that he could draw these wise-men to himself: the source of all true Wisdom. We see a Savior who loved the world so much that he chose to become one of us for all of us: Jews and Gentiles alike. No circumstance can deny the will of God. There is no distance that God cannot bridge: if he has already restored the bridge between man and God, how much more will he bridge our earthly gulfs of loneliness, guilt, fear, and doubt?

‘Glade Jul/Silent Night’

It’s a Christmas miracle... sort of. You know how the movie “White Christmas” goes, when they’re all in the ski lodge, hoping/praying for snow so they can save the business, and they get a big snowfall on Christmas Eve? That happened here, in the magic wonderland of Minnesota. We’d gotten some snow early this winter, but a long stretch of warm temperatures and dry weather left all nature naked and ashamed. But last night the blizzard came in pure Hollywood style, depositing 8 or 9 inches, I guess. Today you could film a Hallmark special here. Something for the kids, anyway. If they have to remember a premature year without the grandparents, they’ll at least have memories of sliding and snowballs. And, of course, of delayed presents because the Post Office is backed up like the Donner Party.

As you no doubt deduced, the video above is the one and only Sissel, singing “Glade Jul,” which is the Norwegian version of Silent Night. Pretty much the same idea in the lyrics, except that we replaced the words for “Silent Night” with ones for “Happy Christmas.” Because we could.

And Glade Jul to you, too.

The Word Was Made Flesh, Merry Christmas

This is the real meaning of Christmas: “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14 ESV).

This does not mean God posed as a man for a few years, casting an illusion on everyone in order to influence them with well-spoken sermons.

It does not mean God sent his spirit into a man for a time, having found someone who was sufficiently humble to indwell for divine purposes.

It does not mean that God actually is a man who lives eternally on another plane but for a season he came to Earth to do things.

It also does not mean that Jesus was only a man who connected dots like no one before him and introduced some darn good principles to Western civilization.

It does not mean that a uniquely spiritual man called on divine power to perform marvelous works and speak with wisdom beyond the scope of mortal reason.

Those ideas are a bit easier to understand. The truth is beyond us. Christ Jesus, born as a child to a poor, virgin woman, was the Word of God from the beginning, both with God and actually God. The invisible, eternal God became a mortal man. That doesn’t make complete sense to us, but it is the only hope for ourselves and all the world.

Merry Christmas.