“Bronchitis,” my doctor says. I’m on antibiotics as of an hour ago, and suddenly I feel very weary. Which is pretty much how I’ve felt for the last three weeks, so it’s really not a change.

I’d like to direct your attention to the Grim’s Hall blog, one of my favorites. They don’t seem to have any mechanism for cutting individual posts out of the herd there, so in order to get to the post I want you to look at, you’ll have to scroll down past Grim’s mention of Joel Leggett’s review of my book. With characteristic modesty, I shall say nothing at all about that.

But down below is a (to me) fascinating post on “The Force of History.” It springboards off a discussion of the very problematic question of Swiss restrictions on minarets, and on to the whole question of how we argue from history, and how people use proofs in their actual, real-life thinking.

Grim says:

These [reasons] are likely to be emotional, not logical: as with our discussions on Aristotle, it is normally the non-rational part of the soul that determines ends. The rational part determines means. All he will learn from your argument is that he needs a different means to his ends.

This strikes me as an important point to understand. Most people don’t reason forward from logic. They reason backward from conclusions that please their feelings, finding proofs to support them.

This is even true of Christian arguments. I’ll go further. It’s probably true of mine as well. I have a vision–an image that ravished my soul when I was a boy–and I’ve chosen chains of reasoning that suit that vision. To betray the vision would be like betraying a woman I love.

I don’t mean to denigrate reason. Reason stands. It is valid. We should work, and work hard, to refine and maintain our logic.

But human beings are not computers. We operate by head and heart, and if we wish to win souls, we must not forget that. C.S. Lewis experienced what could well be described as an intellectual conversion. He was “talked around” by Tolkien and Dyson. But the “bait” in God’s “trap” was Lewis’ fascination with myth. When he saw that myth could be fact as well, Lewis discovered the heart of his own passion, in Jesus Christ.

Stories. Stories are so important. We serve a Lord who was a famous storyteller, and whose life is a famous story.

Yesterday was St. Lucy’s Day. Not a big deal for the average American (even, I think, for the average American Catholic). But—oddly enough—for Scandinavian Lutherans “Luciadag” has traditionally been an important part of the Advent observation.

On the morning of December 13, all over Scandinavia (but especially in Sweden), you used to be able to see the eldest daughter of the household (at least back when they had multiple children) rise early, don a crown of lingonberry leaves with seven burning candles in it, and lead a procession of her sisters and brothers, all clad in white and singing. She served the family a ritual breakfast of coffee and special “Lucia buns.” Since the 1920s, the processional song has been this version of the old Sicilian (correction: Neapolitan) favorite:

Continue reading Lucy in the morning with candles →

Did you hear about The Manhattan Declaration a few weeks ago? The document says in part:

While the whole scope of Christian moral concern, including a special concern for the poor and vulnerable, claims our attention, we are especially troubled that in our nation today the lives of the unborn, the disabled, and the elderly are severely threatened; that the institution of marriage, already buffeted by promiscuity, infidelity and divorce, is in jeopardy of being redefined to accommodate fashionable ideologies; that freedom of religion and the rights of conscience are gravely jeopardized by those who would use the instruments of coercion to compel persons of faith to compromise their deepest convictions.

Here are a few very respected men who left their names off the declaration and their reasons for declining to sign.

It’s not often I come up with anything that, I imagine, could actually contribute to biblical studies, in even the tiniest way. Like never. But I think I’ve got something. Maybe it’s old news. Maybe somebody pointed it out long ago, and I just don’t know about it. But I’ve never heard it mentioned, that I can recall.

This Big Insight does not rise from the depth of my spirituality, or from my profound understanding of the words of Scripture. It arises from the fact that, as a Viking reenactor, I wear and use armor from time to time, something your average biblical scholar only gets to do during that crazy week in the senior year at seminary, when he gets initiated into the Secret Global Conspiracy and undergoes the Unspeakable Rite.

Just kidding.

Anyway, I’m thinking of the famous “full armor of God” passage, from Ephesians 6:10-18:

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes…. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place….” Continue reading Of belts and breastplates →

Our friend Dr. Gene Edward Veith quotes a letter from James Madison today, in which this “Father of the Constitution” credits Dr. Luther’s Doctrine of the Two Kingdoms as an inspiration for the American religious model.

It illustrates the excellence of a system which, by a due distinction, to which the genius and courage of Luther led the way, between what is due to Caesar and what is due God, best promotes the discharge of both obligations.

No hidden message is implied by my noting that today is Martin Luther’s birthday. I am a Lutheran, and am grateful to God for the work He accomplished through the man from Eisleben. He had plenty of flaws and committed his share of sins, but he was God’s man.

“All who call on God in true faith, earnestly from the heart, will certainly be heard, and will receive what they have asked and desired, although not in the hour or in the measure, or the very thing which they ask. They will obtain something greater and more glorious than they had dared to ask.”

That’s probably all you’ll get from me tonight. I have a late appointment.

Joe Carter at First Things passes on a story about the “average color” of the universe, according to astronomers. You’ll quickly note that it’s about the same shade as the walls of a doctor’s waiting room. The joke is that this must be “God’s favorite color.”

It reminds me of an old Reader’s Digest story about a pastor who shows friends around his new parsonage. “Why are all the walls beige?” one of them asks.

“Because that’s the only color a committee can agree on.”

Is beige God’s favorite color? I doubt it very much.

In the first place, how do we know this universe is the only one there is? Perhaps there’s a bouquet, a rainbow of universes, running the full spectrum from infrared to ultraviolet. Perhaps we live in one of the dull ones.

My experience with God is that He Himself is anything but dull, and he doesn’t make decisions by committee. Like Aslan, He’s not a tame Lion. He has a taste for extremes, and the average beige of our universe represents a mean between the extreme joys and the extreme horrors of existence.

I have to imagine that His favorite color (like mine) is red. Because when He looks on the red of His Son’s blood, He is pleased and forgives our sins.

This will be a short (as short as I can make it) meditation on a subject that deserves a far more comprehensive treatment. Chances are the idea I’ll raise isn’t original to me, and somebody else has already written about it, probably far more sensibly.

I was recently sent .pdfs of a couple open letters from prominent figures in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. The first was this letter, written by former presiding bishop Herbert Chilstrom. In it he defends recent ELCA decisions that placed a blessing on the practice of homosexuality. The decisions, he says, are consistent with a Lutheran understanding of the Word of God. He quotes in particular the theologian Carl E. Braaten, writing, “The ultimate authority of Christian dogmatics is not the biblical canon as such, but the gospel of Jesus Christ to which the Scriptures bear witness—the ‘canon within the canon.’”

I was also sent Prof. Braaten’s response, which you can read here. Although Prof. Braaten is not someone I myself have ever looked to as a model in matters of scriptural interpretation, there are some things that can still make even an advocate of the higher criticism gag. Prof. Braaten answers, “You are right that the Word of God can mean one of three things, the incarnate Word, the written Word, or the proclaimed Word. In this case, the context makes it clear that it means the written Word of God, the Bible. I do not believe that the other two meanings of the Word of God diminish by a single iota the authority of the written Word of God.” Continue reading Egalitarian gnosticism? →