Foxes Have Holes...

As our plane descended last week, the South Dakota countryside looked like a white sheet of unlined paper – unscratched and inviting. There were no red lines of taillights; no cars trying to squeeze into a stream of speeding drivers. It was nice. We exited the airport and started to drive. And as we drove, for the first time in six months, my knuckles were not white. In the fading sun the snow on the hills turned pink and grey, and I reflected on the goodness of appreciating a place.

As a native Coloradoan, I can say that we are, at times, state-centric. We’ve joked about a Texan quota, bemoaned the implants from the west coast, and suggested drawing the state line along the Front Range. When we moved to Virginia, I was quick to notice the many (negative) differences: the heat, the rush-hour parking-lot traffic, the abruptness of the people, the shortness of tempers, and the lack of coniferous trees. I often sighed. It was so… East coast.

Then I came to discover that some people in D.C. did not appreciate that I was from Colorado. “It’s so empty,” someone said. “It’s okay if you like to be rugged.” I was told by a colleague about the GAO field office, “Honestly, I don’t know why we have an office way out there.” She emphasized that it was quite far from East-coast civilization, as if Denver were still filled with cowboys and saloons. Another co-worker pointed out that even though “remote,” one could survive because Denver did have a Banana Republic and several J.Crews.

Not long ago, I realized that as a Christian, I am perpetually far from Home. The book of Hebrews reminds us that like Abraham, we are sojourners until Heaven and the Kingdom come. This did not mean I was to be “homeless” and literally living on the street (although it could) but that my eyes were to be fixed on the heavenly, spiritual Kingdom of God. This revelation, and the ensuing struggle to relinquish control of the location of my temporary, earthly “home,” had not yet been tested. And then we moved.

And there I was, racing in my high heels for a spot on the metro. Every day jostling through the Chinatown morning crowds, walking in the shadow of D.C. with the nation’s Capitol building to my right, the Washington Monument somewhere behind me, federal buildings lining the sides of the street. It was here that my assertion was tested, and in the end, it could still stand.

Can you believe it, in its uniqueness, in its differences, even D.C foreshadows heaven. It is not filled with the pine trees of Colorado or the snow-covered hills of South Dakota. But it is its own place, and it is good.

I’m reminded of a statement by C.S. Lewis: “Heaven is that place where all that is and all that happens issues from God’s creative genius. In that sense, it is like earth, except that in our present earth even nature groans, waiting for its deliverance….”(Beyond the Shadowlands)

If we keep our eyes fixed on Jesus and our hearts set on returning Home, we are liberated to follow Him… “wherever He goes.”

EC

A Ham or an Artichoke for Dinner, Honey?

Only Spengler could pull this one off: In a Christmas column dealing with human-animal relationships, he works this money quote into the mix:

"Most cultures do not change; they persist until their best-used-by date, and then are destroyed by their enemies or die of their own despondency. Fundamental cultural change - a change as it were in human nature - appears in human history as a response to revelation."

The column is worth reading in detail, as is one of the essays Spengler references, Michael Wyschogrod's The Revenge of the Animals.

Wyschogrod (a conservative Jew) speculates that God "would prefer a vegetarian humanity." Diet, as it relates to our spiritual life, is an issue most Christians think little or not at all about. I am amazed at how fiery some Christians can get at the comment: "I feel convicted to become a vegetarian." Think of the reaction if the comment were: "I feel convicted to eat a strict kosher diet -- I don't believe Jesus abolished all dietary requirements in the law."

I think the key question is: When the risen Christ commands Peter to "kill and eat," is he aboloshing all dietary requirements (or even all dietary concerns) for Gentile Christians, OR is he more broadly exposing Peter's limited, ethno/nationalistic vision of what new Christ followers must do in order to be saved (i.e. follow the Levitical law)?

BC

Hucka-gotta-be a Communitarian?

BC wonders if Mike Huckabee isn't an American version of Europe's Christian Democrats?

A New Batch of Mustard Seeds

Many of us who pray for unity in the Body of Christ don't do enough reflecting on what that unity looks like. I've speculated in the past that any future ecumenism in the Body won't come primarily from meetings, conferences and letters of agreement from church leaders -- though these are still highly significant, and historic, efforts.

Instead, we are more likely to see more what is occurring today -- what John Allen Jr. of the National Catholic Register (one of the most astute observers of Catholic Christianity, and global Christianity in general) calls "the ecumenism of daily life" -- detailed here in his recent column, "Springtime for Ecumenists: A Realistic Assessment." From Allen:

The great irony is...the ecumenical movement is actually among the most phenomenally successful currents in global Christianity in at least the last 100 years. It may not have achieved full, visible communion, but it has swept away centuries of prejudice and broken down denominational ghettoes in what can only seem historically like the blink of an eye.

Today, for example, Catholics and Protestants around the world pray together, work together, celebrate when their kids marry one another, and in general no longer see one another as bogeymen. While anti-ecumenical attitudes certainly persist (for example, in some sectors of the surging Pentecostal movement across the global south), the few remaining places where Catholics and Protestants are at one another's throats strike mainstream believers on both sides as not only anachronistic but almost incomprehensible. Much the same point could be made about Catholic/Orthodox relations.

If proof is needed, I offer the case of Hill City, Kansas, the tiny western Kansas town where my 93-year-old grandmother resides. Grandma, if prompted, tells stories about the time Protestants tried to stop construction of a Catholic church in town, not wanting the papists to get a toehold. (I have no idea how much truth there is to that memory, but the point is that reflects an era not so long ago in which such things were common.) Today, by way of contrast, her greatest point of pride about her pastor, Fr. Don McCarthy, is that he's well-liked by the Protestants too. There's almost no religious initiative of consequence in town that isn't ecumenical, such as the time in 2004 that the Ministerial Alliance, a coalition of the various Christian denominations, pooled $1,800 to rent the local cinema for free showings of "The Passion of the Christ." For three nights, Catholics, Methodists, Presbyterians, Pentecostals and Lutherans sat shoulder by shoulder, then went out for coffee, pie, and conversation.

In microcosm, that tells the story of the runaway success of what experts have come to call the "ecumenism of daily life."

Our not-so-distant ancestors would be utterly shocked by the level of harmony among Christians today. For those of us who desire to see a more united Body, our current assessment reads like a GAO report: "Some Progress Has Been Made, but Much Remains to Be Done." (By far the best treatment of discerning a road to Christian unity is Peter Kreeft's message "Ecumenism Without Compromise").

But even after all the "ecumenism of daily life" you can handle, what is the dirty little secret behind greater Christian ecumenism? What will bring Christ-following Catholics, Protestants and Orthodox together irrevocably?

Persecution. And I'm not talking about having to say "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas." I'm talking about hard persecution, not soft.

I think TC's comment in the previous post is very relevant, because he highlights the trend of many young Christians ignoring fixed church buildings altogether, and meeting in homes, or gyms, or whatever structure they can find. The early Church did this because they had to in order to avoid imminent arrest, or death. Why are young people doing it today?

At least one (and many other) Christian leaders are predicting difficult times ahead, and preparing for a small, dedicated Body living in the world as a "Creative Minority."

BC

Putting the "Cult" back in Culture - Part I

Cult: Etymology: French & Latin; French culte, from Latin cultus - "care, adoration," from colere "to cultivate"
1: formal religious veneration : worship 2: a system of religious beliefs and ritual; also: its body of adherents

Our little family lives just down the bike path from Cameron Station, a master-planned, neo-traditional development complete with its own main street, pre-school, farmer's market, large park and town hall where residents can vote and conduct other basic public business. Cameron Station has all the typical high points of "quality of life" - walkability, security, outdoor recreation opportunities, and so on.

Yet there's one thing I find missing as I stroll or drive around the community, making the place feel at best, lacking something, at worst, contrived. Cameron Station is missing a House of Worship.

Developments like Cameron Station are popping up all over the country, and I find this trend enormously positive. Make no mistake -- the "New Urbanist", neo-traditional community style generally produces very desirable places to live and work. Stapleton, Lowry and Belmar in Denver, Dawley Farm Village and Northern Lights Community in South Dakota, serve as examples. But the neo-traditional style is lacking a significant component of traditional communities: religion -- and by "religion", I refer to its original meaning, derived from and related to the word "relationship" (with God).

I realize the need for developers to turn a profit. They wouldn't be in the business if they couldn't earn a living. But the trend to eliminate the religious element from considerations of urban planning/development only contributes to the general spiritual corrosion in so many communities (for a series of wonderful examples, choose almost any country in Western Europe, where developers are in the business of converting unused Houses of Prayer to one-bedroom condos and dance clubs).

Cities across the U.S. are trying to attract the so-called "Creative Class" -- Young, single professionals working in IT, education, graphic design, writing, filmmaking, architecture, and so on. Like most ideas, this one has an element of truth: The new economy demands a healthy dose of Creative Class occupations in any locale that wants to advance, or even survive. This trend naturally leads to urban planning and development for singles: condos, edgy art districts, and uber-hip restaurants. What is left behind? Churches, schools and parks are ignored -- in other words, the things that often bind a family to a specific place are almost disregarded entirely.

So what happens to these hip-locales? Young, talented folks move in -- and promptly leave after a few years (maximum) when they are ready to settle down with a family. The "community" produced is temporary, transient and superficial. Joel Kotkin, urbanist guru, addresses this topic in his recent op-ed "The Rise of Family-Friendly Cities." It's worth a quick read.

I know, many of you are saying: BC is changing his tune now that he has a family. And many of you are absolutely correct, and let me make it clear that I have moved a full five times in the last five years. But hey, this isn't politics -- I reserve the right to change my mind.

BC

The Great Republican Schism

Coming around the bend, in the fall of 2008 and beyond, we have the Great Republican Schism.

BC

"Maybe it's not what he wants from you either."

Huckabee must be a contender, if the respectable conservative National Review (which endorsed Mitt Romney) is spewing this type of invective -- try to choke down some of the venom emanating from Lisa Schiffrin:

Everything that happens, Huck, all those reporters are going to want you to say something, everywhere you go, 24/7. And lots of people will act based on what you say. And not all of them have lots of love in their heart, Huck. That bait shop on the lake — it's looking good. You'll be surrounded by nice neighbors, real Christians, and you can be the smartest guy in the room. You can go out running every morning. Remember Huck — Jesus wouldn't be dumb enough to go into politics.You were right on that one. Maybe it's not what he wants from you either.

Well, here's to high school politics. Go get 'em Huck (and by the way -- COOL IT on the Lou Dobbs-like rhetoric on immigration -- I thought you weren't mad at anybody? Stick with authenticity, not linking hands with scaremongers)

BC

Read, and Weep, All Ye Bluegrass Fans

Nickel Creek, spunky bluegrass band from SoCal, recently concluded their farewell tour, which started here in D.C. and finished in Nashville.

EC and I had the good pleasure of seeing Nickel Creek perform at Denver's hallowed Fillmore Auditorium (on less-than-hallowed Colfax Avenue).

Also, music fans: Be sure to browse NPR Music beta, an enormously content-rich site full of public radio's best tunes.

BC

Governor Romney's Speech (follow up)

Romney's Religious Conundrum

Mitt Romney delivered his "I'm a serious-but-not-that-serious Mormon" speech today in College Station, Texas. Intending a JFK-like address on how his religion interacts with his duties as a public official, most of Romney's speech reads like a (well-written) civics lesson in religious pluralism.

And let me say at the outset: Romney could very well be a fine President (though I would certainly not vote for him in a primary). One of my biggest objections to Romney is that he seems to be the Republican version of John Kerry -- a stuffy, aristocratic fellow trying desperately to look like a common Joe -- who would ultimately be beaten soundly by the Democratic nominee.

One of the primary differences between JFK's and Romney's speech is that Kennedy actually declared he would resign his office if there was a fundamental conflict between his beliefs as a Catholic and the duties of the Presidency. That is a startling claim, and I couldn't imagine a candidate today making it. (Kennedy actually made a much more vigorous case for a bright line between Church and State than Romney - so don't take this as a full endorsement of JFK's Houston speech over Romney's more moderate stance).

But Romney's religious problem is intractable: Many of the voters to which he is appealing want a candidate whose actions as President are informed directly by their (Christian) faith. Because Romney is self-conscious about his religion (and broad public acceptance of it), he feels the need to make the opposite claim: that his Mormonism will not directly influence how he governs the country from the Executive Branch. How this furthers his cause with politically conservative Christians is not at all clear.

BC

Missionaries Wanted - Location: Paris

Via Spengler, a call for missionaries where they perhaps are needed most:

Secular liberalism, the official ideology of almost all the nations of Western Europe, offers hedonism, sexual license, anomie, demoralization and gradual depopulation. Muslims do not want this. In Africa, Christian missionaries go to Muslims and offer them God's love and the hope of eternal life. But I am aware of no Christian missionaries active in the Muslim banlieue (outskirts) of the Paris suburbs or the Turkish quarters of Berlin. By contrast, there is indeed a war with Islam, and it is being won in parts of the world where Christians wage it on spiritual grounds. No Christian army has had to march in its support. Europe, meanwhile, is losing ground to Islam because it declines to fight.

I agree. There are already thousands of Christian missionaries in sub-Saharan Africa, and most of them are Africans. Who would think to be a missionary (or "tentmaker") in majority-Muslim suburbs of Paris, Rotterdam and Berlin? Not many, apparently.

BC

"In order to do good, you may have to engage in evil."

These words come from Robert McNamara, former president of Ford Motor Company, Secretary of Defense, and president of the World Bank. Whenever we watch the documentary of McNamara's career, The Fog of War, EC shakes her head when McNamara makes this statement. The Fog of War ranks as one of my favorite movies, of any genre or time period. It's a simple film: Documentarian Errol Morris simply asks McNamara to reflect on his life, and explain the lessons he's learned. McNamara comes up with 11:

1. Empathize with your enemy.
2. Rationality will not save us.
3. There's something beyond one's self.
4. Maximize efficiency.
5. Proportionality should be a guideline in war.
6. Get the data.
7. Belief and seeing are both often wrong.
8. Be prepared to reexamine your reasoning.
9. In order to do good, you may have to engage in evil.
10. Never say never.
11. You can't change human nature.

These sound like pithy, almost trite statements (practically from some MBA program), but taken in the context of the film and the background McNamara provides, each is powerful and has left a lasting impression on my mind. I don't agree with every conclusion, but the questions posed by such a towering figure of the 20th century cause me to reflect deeply on the lessons offered, especially as they relate to politics -- not "politics" as in running for office, but the old, "classical" definition: The common deliberation of how to best use public resources in order to achieve the good life.

The most startling of McNamara's lessons is number 9. (The most useful is number 1, but that's for another blog). McNamara was intimately involved in the eventual use of using incendiary bombs dropped by low-flying B-17s on Japanese cities during WWII.

Some argue the decisively destructive impact of this tactic on civilian populations sealed the victory for the Allied powers, sparing the U.S. the necessity of a D-Day-like land invasion of Japan, which would have cost thousands of American lives. Others argue it was an unnecessary and breathtakingly cruel crime of war. So McNamara poses the question: "How much evil must we do in order to do good?"

All of this came to mind last week when I saw an analysis by Anthony H. Cordesman, an influential but relatively unknown fellow in Washington. Cordesman lays out various plausible scenarios regarding conflict in the Middle East - specifically, a nuclear exchange between Israel and Iran. Some of Cordesman's conclusions of the possible devastation, summarized well here, include:

• 16 million to 28 million Iranians dead within 21 days, and between 200,000 and 800,000 Israelis dead within the same time frame.
  
• Israel would need to keep a "reserve strike capability to ensure no other power can capitalize on Iranian strike."
  
• This means Israel would have to target "key Arab neighbors" -- in particular Syria and Egypt.
  
• Israel's options include a limited nuclear strike on the region . A full-scale Israeli attack on Syria would kill up to 18 million people within 21 days, making Syrian recovery impossible.
  
• A Syrian attack with all its reputed chemical and biological warfare assets could kill up to 800,000 Israelis, but Israeli society would recover.
• An Israeli attack on Egypt would likely strike at the main population centers, with a death toll likely in the tens of millions. A strike would destroy the Suez Canal and almost certainly destroy the Aswan dam, sending monstrous floods down the Nile to sweep away the glowing rubble. It would mean the end of Egypt as a functioning society.

An Iran-Israel nuclear exchange is only one of 11 plausible scenarios envisioned by Cordesman in the decade of 2010-2020 -- but the potential consequences of such a 2-3 week tit-for-tat would be fantastically devastating. As Cordesman telling states, "The only way to win is not to play." For all the cavalier rhetoric emanating from Tehran, Washington and Tel Aviv, Cordesman's scenarios should inspire sober meditation on the 11 lessons of Robert McNamara.

BC