What is this strange, unaccustomed feeling?

Yesterday I had all sorts of stuff to blog about. Today I’m pretty dry.

The only unusual thing about my life right now (aside from its usual unusualness) is that I feel pretty good.

Years back, I used to jog. I was never a hard core runner, though there was a time when I might have become one. I’d gotten my running up to four miles at a time, and was enjoying it. Then I blew out my knee (due to my own stupidity), which limited me to two miles a day ever after. And eventually I couldn’t even do that anymore.

After a long hiatus (and gaining back a lot of weight I’d kept at bay for fifteen years), I took up walking a few years back, taking half hour walks instead of twenty minute runs. It was better than nothing, but there was very little pleasure in it, and sloughing off was easy. I didn’t know why.

But lately, out of desperation to improve my condition, I started lifting some very light weights (which I bought back when I was running) while doing the walks.

And lo, I discovered what I’d been missing all these years. I was missing pushing it. I was missing actually having a workout that took effort. Now the burn is back, and I feel better than I have in years.

Sorry to break out of the Lars Walker character you know and have come to expect. I’m sure I’ll be griping about something again soon.

If It Was Made by Slaves, Would You Buy it?

As I understand it, the U.S. Department of Labor (DOL) is required by Congress (Trafficking Victims’ Protection Act (TVPA) of 2005) to list the goods produced by forced labor or child labor and the countries which produced those things. At the end of last year, Congress told the DOL to issue that list by the end of 2009 (William Wilberforce Trafficking Victims Protection Reauthorization Act of 2008). Change.org and Polaris Project are asking us to write the DOL to encourage it to make it’s deadline.

I’d think a list like this would be very difficult to compile, even if you did not have businesses arguing against it (which I assume some lobbyist or two is actually doing). There was an informational meeting held on May 28, 2008. Perhaps now, almost five years later, the DOL is ready to finger the companies and products made in unjust conditions. You can join the effort here.

Christ-Centered Worship

Christ-Centered Worship calls people to go beyond ‘contemporary worship’ without being polemical in spirit. It takes historic worship traditions very seriously but uses the gospel itself as the way to critique and design orders of worship. It is full, balanced, and extremely practical. This will now be the first book I give people–or turn to myself–on the practice of understanding, planning, and leading in corporate worship.”–Tim Keller, Redeemer Presbyterian Church; author of The Reason for God

“Never an Unfree Man”

An essay I wrote recently, called “Never an Unfree Man,” about Viking Norway and the (possible) roots of Free Lutheranism (the brand to which I adhere), has been posted online by my publisher, here.

In other news, Nordskog reports that they’ve ordered a second printing of West Oversea.

Abandoned book review: Viking: Odinn’s Child, by Tim Severin

There was a time when I made it a point of honor to finish every book of fiction I started. As I’ve aged I’ve grown more surly and impatient, and nowadays if a book bores or offends me, I toss it away. Life’s too short. I’ve got stuff I need to read.

So I’m going to do a new thing here. I’m going to post a biased review of a book to which I may not have given a fair chance.

I’d had Tim Severin’s Viking trilogy recommended to me, and I do try to keep up, to some degree, with my competition in the Viking novels field. I looked forward to the book. Severin is the author of The Brendan Voyage, an account of his own Atlantic voyage in a leather coracle, in emulation of St. Brendan, a book I read, enjoyed, and profited from.

But I got up to page 74 of Viking: Odinn’s Child and just couldn’t take it any further. There were two reasons, stylistic and ideological. I’ll start with the stylistic, so that anyone who doesn’t care about my religious views can just read this part and drop the review, as I dropped the book. Continue reading Abandoned book review: Viking: Odinn’s Child, by Tim Severin

Words that don’t mean what we think they mean

In news reports and discussion of the death today of Sen. Edward Kennedy, I keep hearing references to the “Kennedy family tragedies.” This might suggest to some people that the death of Sen. Kennedy is also a tragedy. It is not. (Please understand that I don’t mean to suggest it’s not sad. I mean it doesn’t meet either the ancient or the modern definitions of “tragedy.”)

The ancient definition of tragedy was, “The story of the violent and premature death of a great man, which he brings upon himself through some flaw in his character.”

The modern definition is, “An early or untimely death marked by a notable loss of human potential.”

Sen. Kennedy’s life fulfills neither of these criteria.

Sen. Kennedy died at an advanced age, fabulously wealthy and one of the most powerful people in the world. Whatever the indiscretions and sins of his life, he managed to avoid suffering almost any temporal consequences for them.

Almost the diametric opposite of tragedy.

This Labor Day, Read About Suicide

National Suicide by Martin L. Gross Cal Thomas praises “a must-read for people who are sick of the way government operates.” It’s Martin L. Gross’ book National Suicide: How Washington Is Destroying the American Dream from A to Z. This isn’t about health care or terrorism. It’s about politicians and the system they have worked up in Washington D.C. that has little to do with serving the public.

The current administration has a projected budget deficit of $9 trillion over ten years. I can only assume that’s because very few congressmen use calculators when considering budget proposals. Do any living congressmen ask about current revenues or unreasonable tax burdens for legitimate reasons, not political points? Do they care about the limitations put on them by the constitution?

Thomas describes some of the problems recorded in National Suicide:

The Alternative Minimum Tax, which he says is “based on an accounting lie,” will cost taxpayers $1 trillion over the next 10 years. America, he writes, spends $700 billion a year on various welfare programs, amounting to $65,000 for each poor family of four, yet we still have the poor with us. Both political parties, Gross charges, secretly encourage illegal immigration (the Democrats for votes, the Republicans for cheap labor) and then reward the immigrants’ children with automatic U.S. citizenship.

Care to guess how many government programs deal with “disappearing rural areas”? 89, 200, 500? It’s much higher than that.

Before the next election, we may want to think through what has brought us to the point of national suicide and ask ourselves who we can trust to serve the country with humility, loving mercy, and acting justly.

The End of Secularism, by Hunter Baker

Our friend Hunter Baker’s new book, The End of Secularism, reminds me more than anything in my own experience of the work of Francis Schaeffer (though Baker criticizes Schaeffer in certain areas). It’s a dense book, heavily footnoted, presenting a lot of information in a relatively short (194 pages) format. You’ll want to keep a highlighter in hand as you read it, and if you’re like me, you’ll have to stop and contemplate what you’re reading from time to time.

Baker begins with several chapters of historical overview, tracing the history of the Christian church, then explaining how secularism as a world-view and ideology burgeoned in a world increasingly weary of religious conflict and war. Secularism—the view that religion (if tolerated at all) must be cordoned off from public life, so that even someone whose politics are formed by faith must find secular public arguments for it in order to participate in the process—was originally marketed, and continues to be marketed today, as the only rational and impartial alternative to the passions and intolerance of believers.

Baker then applies to this claim of rationality and impartiality the same kind of analysis that secularists like to use on religion. He finds secularism greatly wanting, and fatally blind to its own unexamined presuppositions. It’s strange to find postmodern thinkers presented positively in a Christian book, but Baker takes particular note of recent deconstructions of secularism by younger thinkers. These postmoderns note that secularists are not, as they imagine, impartial referees in the world of thought, but partisans holding a distinct ideology, and that their efforts to silence religious ideas in the public square are simply a new example of an elite class attempting to muzzle heretics. Baker also marshals historical facts to demonstrate that secularism has no better record of tolerance and the prevention of conflict than Christianity had. He devotes a later chapter specifically to the “legend” of the incompatibility of religion and science. In the final chapter he examines an interesting situation from recent history where politicians explicitly appealed to religion in a controversy in a southern state, and the secularists made no complaint at all—because in that case, religion was being marshaled in the service of a liberal cause.

The End of Secularism will challenge the Christian reader, and will raise some Christian hackles—Baker gives short shrift to those who claim that America was founded as a Christian nation, for instance. (Update: Hunter points out to me that he criticizes those who claim a secularist founding as well, which is a fair point.) But Christians should read it, for the mental exercise, and for the hope it presents that the long cultural dominance of secularism may finally be coming to the beginning of its end. Secularists should read it for an education.

Highly recommended.

“Souls on Ice”

Anthony Sacramone reviews the movie “Souls on Ice” at Filmwell. As he sees it, a promising concept, disappointingly delivered.

Alas, Cold Souls’s parts are greater than its whole, and sounds funnier than it is. It fails to cohere in part because the central conceit—Paul Giamatti playing Paul Giamatti—serves no great purpose. After all, Giamatti, however ill at ease and sad-sackish he may appear, is a successful and respected actor. If we are to believe that he is nevertheless experiencing a soul-shifting crisis, a deep-seated desire to, as Vanya says, “live the rest of his life in a different way,” those scenes must have been left on the cutting-room floor or on Barthes’ laptop.