Mark Liberman tells us, “When you read or hear in the mass media that ‘Only X% of Americans know Y’, don’t believe it without checking the references — it’s probably false even as a report of the survey statistics.” He cites a few sources and gives an incredible example of the answers marked wrong for an open-ended question about former U.S. Supreme Court Chief Justice William Rehnquist. (via Alan Jacobs)

On this point, here’s a survey that appears to be done the right way, asking clear questions about religious practice and affiliation. It concludes that though many say they pray every day and have other spiritual or religious habits or experiences, “One-in-Five Adults Have No Religious Affiliation.” I wonder how much of this is a popular resistance to labeling one’s beliefs either out of a selfish desire to appear smart (like the voter who says he is undecided because he wants to appear to give both sides a fair hearing) or a belief that one cannot claim a label while not accepting absolutely everything ever claimed by someone of that label.

Landscape with classical ruins and Christ with his disciples on the road to Emmaus. Bartholomeus Breenbergh (1598-1657)

As I prepare to go on the road, a few thoughts about roads.

In the novel I’m working on, (it’s called Hailstone Mountain. You’ll be hearing more about it) there’s a scene where I have Father Ailill, the narrator, talk about roads as a metaphor. He quotes a wise old monk he once knew:

“And Brother Eamon answered, ‘If you are walking a road, and another man is walking far behind you, one of two things may be true. He may be walking away from you, in which case you’ll never see him again, or he may be walking in the same direction as you, only far behind. Indeed it may be that he is walking faster than you are, and will in time catch you up. He may become your companion, or it may be he’ll outpace you. That’s why we must be careful of judging. We can’t always see in which direction another man is walking. Not only that, but sometimes even we in all our wisdom may find ourselves headed the wrong way for a time.’…”

I think I’ve told this story here before. Back in college, some friends and I were trying to promote a series of evangelistic meetings. I was sitting in a study room in the dorm one evening, working on a poster with one of my best friends. This was a guy as close as a brother, with whom I had prayed, laughed, and wept.

Another student walked into the room and asked us what we were doing. We explained, and he raised some objections. He didn’t believe in evangelical Christianity. We argued a bit, in a polite manner, and he went his way.

A few years later, I encountered the guy who walked in again. Now he was a fervent evangelical Christian, deeply involved in gospel work.

And not long after that, my poster-making friend shifted to liberal Christianity, and as far as I know he has never since uttered a single word not approved by the New York Times.

The point of all this is that you never know.

I wanted to say that the road metaphor in the snippet above only applies to Christians. But that’s not really true. The mystery of the faith road is that you can’t see it. You just meet people, and you don’t know how they’re moving in relation to you. The person you meet who seems to be opposing you may in fact be going in your direction, and just isn’t aware of it yet.

Our friend Anthony Sacramone of Strange Herring posted a rare serious article today, expressing his dismay over recent statements by Father Benedict Groeschel, with whom he’s personally acquainted. Father Groeschel told the National Catholic Register that victims of child sexual abuse—as young as 14—are often “the seducer.”

Mr. Sacramone says:

I have no great need to defend Catholic clergy or (heaven help up) the bishops (whose skulls, as John Chrysostom stated, pave the floor of hell). I’m not on the road to Rome, despite the best efforts of some very smart, devout, and good men. Nor do I think the sheer awfulness of what Groeschel said in this one interview should be defended in any way, shape, or form. But the man is 79 years old. Take the “excuse” about his recently hitting his head for what it’s worth (I do wonder why he would agree to an interview at all if he was not himself). About eight years ago, he was hit by a car and almost died; before that, he suffered a serious heart attack. In other words, this is a man no longer playing at the top of his game.

I don’t have anything more to add on that subject. But I note that one of Father Groeschel’s lifelong vocations has been counseling. That’s a valuable calling, but it seems to me it has its inherent dangers. The French proverb, “To understand all is to forgive all,” may work very well in ordinary situations. But not in every situation. Christians need to understand that there is such a thing as evil. Continue reading “Forgive us our boo-boos” →

“Card Players,” by Theodoor Rombouts (1597-1637)

One reason why my job is better than yours is that when we have meetings I sometimes come away with spiritual insights. When we got together yesterday, for instance, somebody (I actually forget who) said something (I actually forget precisely what) about living by faith, and it sparked the following thought in me.

I’ve always been a little troubled by the resemblance between faith and gambling. I’ve been uncomfortable with the fact that (generally) we condemn gambling, while we encourage people to act in a very gambling-like way in their Christian lives—“Whoever tries to keep his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life will preserve it” (Luke 17:33).

In fact, I understand a movie was made on that very subject some years back. It was about some kind of pastor, a missionary, I think, who plays cards all the time and justifies it on the grounds that gambling is just part of the life of faith.

He’s right in terms of analogy. But I think I see the difference.

Gambling as we think of it—games of chance—involves risking those things that a) are least significant in the spiritual life, and b) we are obligated to husband responsibly, remembering to assist the poor and the Lord’s work. I think if the Lord were to speak to that gambling pastor, He’d tell him that there’s a better way to throw his wealth away—give it directly to the poor. That would free him from greedy motives, benefit people who really need his money, and permit him to trust the Lord for his daily bread.

The problem with gambling for money, I think, is that it’s not risky enough. Gamblers are really playing for matchsticks, even when great sums change hands. Those who walk with Christ risk their very lives, and all the false gods that provide security in ordinary life go into the pot.