Myths Christians tell themselves: In Christianity, humanity was not disposable ... In this way, the Christian God was radically different

 

Luke, the Greek

On the Nativity and Greek Myths

Andrew Fowler

 

Here was not only a god, but the God who loved humanity, rather than one who toyed with them as pawns like the Greek gods and goddesses. In Christianity, humanity was not disposable; and Jesus died for creation, as opposed to the people dying to please the gods. In this way, the Christian God was radically different.

 

If only it were so simple.

 

As myths telling tales of disposable humanity go, the reality has been that since the time of Christ a staggering number of human beings, roughly 50 billion, have died on planet Earth.

 

What has been the purpose of all those lives and of all those deaths? Have those been radically different in comparison with the more than 50 billion who lived and died before Jesus ever arrived on the scene?

 

One can argue convincingly that our lives have been better on balance, but hundreds of millions have come and gone in the Christian era itself who have suffered just as miserably as those who had come and gone before. And in the world right now the leading cause of death is abortion, some 70 million every year. None of them will ever be impressed by our home decor, and we will be disposed of as surely as they have been, but not soon enough for our crimes.

 

 

People recoil from reality and tell themselves tales to explain it and cope with it. Christians have been no exception, and have done the very same thing with their own religion. They have shunned the real content of their own scriptures which tell a different tale from the one encapsulated by the simple promise of everlasting life in John 3:16.

That was the tale of the good news for the few and the bad news for the many.

 

Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish. ... Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish. ... Strive to enter in at the strait gate: for many, I say unto you, will seek to enter in, and shall not be able. ... There shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth, when ye shall see Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, and all the prophets, in the kingdom of God, and you yourselves thrust out.

 

-- Luke 13:3,5,24,28

 

And as it was in the days of Noe, so shall it be also in the days of the Son of man. They did eat, they drank, they married wives, they were given in marriage, until the day that Noe entered into the ark, and the flood came, and destroyed them all.

 

Likewise also as it was in the days of Lot; they did eat, they drank, they bought, they sold, they planted, they builded; But the same day that Lot went out of Sodom it rained fire and brimstone from heaven, and destroyed them all.

 

Even thus shall it be in the day when the Son of man is revealed. 

 

-- Luke 17:26ff.

 

This exclusive tale failed, and the world went on living and dying as before.

 

To cope with the failure, the Christians themselves replaced the way of the few with the inclusive way for the many which we now hear everywhere at Christmas since the first century. The former was falsified by events, but the latter is unfalsifiable because it is by definition beyond our ken. Some die and go to heaven. Some die and go to hell. It cannot be proven, but it also cannot be disproven. It is therefore the best of myths. It is durable. It helps people cope with the ugly facts of life and death. It gives hope to one third of the world's population, 2.38 billion people, the world's largest and most widespread religion, or so Artificial Intelligence tells me.

 

And if somehow I am wrong and this tale is in fact found to be falsifiable in some way some day, I am confident we will replace it again, because we are nothing if not myth-makers. We are not radically different, even if our God is. We are deceitful above all things.

 

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

-- John 3:16

I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me. 

 

-- Galatians 2:20

 

 

The word radical occurs only in the title of this essay about J. D. Vance

 I was expecting a juicy exposé of 2019 Catholic convert J. D. Vance's radicalism in Paul Elie's "J. D. Vance's Radical Religion" for The New Yorker, here, but all you get is disappointment and dark insinuation.

If you are hoping to find out if Vance fasts for Lent, makes pilgrimage to Our Lady of Guadalupe, or goes to daily Latin Mass, you won't.

It's mostly an essay specializing in ideological assumptions and guilt by association, written from the sneering point of view of the illiberal ethos which can't believe there is still a religion in America which is thoroughly pro-life in its commitment to the unborn and the elderly, and committed to the sanctity of marriage between men and women.

For example, Paul Elie insinuates that Vance is a "conservative Catholic" just like Supreme Court justices Thomas, Alito, Kavanaugh, and Barrett, but never tells us exactly how. Therefore we should be afraid of a coming "top-down ordering of society . . . enshrined through regime change" if Vance advances to the executive branch and cooperates with this Supreme Court cabal.

We're not told what kind of Catholics are justices Roberts and Gorsuch, either, not to mention Sotomayor, or how the other four form a conspiracy against the American nation.

For Paul Elie, what it seems to come down to is that Vance is too buddy buddy with people like Patrick Deneen, whom he asserts to be anti-democratic without evidence:

In 2023, Vance took part in a discussion at the Catholic University of America with the Notre Dame political scientist Patrick Deneen, an advocate of “post-liberalism,” which, he explains in his books “Why Liberalism Failed” and “Regime Change,” is the view that liberalism has become an “invasive progressive tyranny” and so must be replaced by “a conservatism that conserves.” Vance greeted Deneen with a bear hug; during the discussion, Politico reported, Vance “identified himself as a member of the ‘postliberal right’ and said that he views his role in Congress as ‘explicitly anti-regime.’ ” ...

For Deneen, post-liberalism involves elevating “leaders who are part of the elite but see themselves as ‘class traitors’ ready to act as ‘stewards and caretakers of the common good’ ”—and to enact their views on abortion, marriage and divorce, euthanasia, the free exercise of religion, and other issues without the constraints of legal precedent or the democratic process. Evidently, Vance fits the bill. After learning of Trump’s choice of running mate, Deneen, in a statement, called Vance “a man of deep personal faith and integrity, a devoted family man, a generous friend, and a genuine patriot.”

I'm not a fan of the Catholic integralists, nor of the broad influence of Catholicism at the expense of the nation's historic conservative Protestant character either, but I'm not particularly afraid of them, just as I am not afraid of the Christian nationalists.

Mostly they are amusingly grandiose.

These groups represent a reaction to illiberalism, which is what this is really all about. The radicals are the so-called liberals who like to read Paul Elie and subscribe to The New Yorker, who want to suppress speech and suppress religion and its influence and suppress everything about this country's past. This country is about freedom, and freedom is really messy, which is why ideologues of the left and right have so, so much to say against it. 

Freedom really ticks them off.

I'm thoroughly confident that these idealists can blather on all they want and that the American people are still not going to submit to their religious tests for citizenship on the one hand, let alone to their pope on the other. 

The country is just too damn LGBT for that.

 

    

 

Glenn A. Moots ably defends Luther and Calvin from the charge of being radical revolutionaries, but too readily accepts their recent Catholic opponents' definition of "revolutionary"

Glenn A. Moots ably defends Luther and Calvin from the charge of being radical revolutionaries in "Was the Protestant Reformation a Radical Revolution?", but he could have done better by framing them as restorationists who returned the Christian religion to its rightful origins as revealed in Holy Scripture. That is most certainly how they saw themselves.

 

And this was not coincidentally how American Protestant revolutionaries also saw themselves:

 

Magisterial Protestants rejected the proliferation of radical sects and dissenters on both sides of the Atlantic and were, by liberal standards, quite severe with their opponents (e.g., Anabaptists or Quakers). According to Sidney Ahlstrom, three-quarters of eighteenth-century Americans were magisterial Protestants.

To revolt derives from revolve, to roll back or around. In Biblical terms this is the meaning of repentance, a turning away from present evil and going back to the original, right way.

This old meaning of "revolution" still dominated at the time of Alexander Hamilton and the American founders, and is inextricably bound up with the development of English Protestantism, which of course derived from Luther and Calvin.

What Is Conservatism? :

First, there were those who admired the English constitution that they had inherited and studied. Believing they had been deprived of their rights under the English constitution, their aim was to regain these rights. Identifying themselves with the tradition of Coke and Selden, they hoped to achieve a victory against royal absolutism comparable to what their English forefathers had achieved in the Petition of Right and Bill of Rights. To individuals of this type, the word revolution still had its older meaning, invoking something that “revolves” and would, through their efforts, return to its rightful place—in effect, a restoration. Alexander Hamilton was probably the best-known exponent of this kind of conservative politics, telling the assembled delegates to the constitutional convention of 1787, for example, that “I believe the British government forms the best model the world ever produced.” Or, as John Dickinson told the convention: “Experience must be our only guide. Reason may mislead us. It was not reason that discovered the singular and admirable mechanism of the English constitution…. Accidents probably produced these discoveries, and experience has given a sanction to them.” And it is evident that they were quietly supported behind the scenes by other adherents of this view, among them the president of the convention, General George Washington. ...

Anyone comparing the Constitution that emerged with the earlier Articles of Confederation immediately recognizes that what took place at this convention was a reprise of the Glorious Revolution of 1689. Despite being adapted to the American context, the document that the convention produced proposed a restoration of the fundamental forms of the English constitution . . .. Even the American Bill of Rights of 1789 is modeled upon the Petition of Right and the English Bill of Rights, largely elaborating the same rights that had been described by Coke and Selden and their followers, and breathing not a word anywhere about universal reason or universal rights.

Radicalism is pulling up something by the roots before the time

The radical cannot abide the co-existence of opposites.

So the servants of the householder came and said unto him, Sir, didst not thou sow good seed in thy field? from whence then hath it tares?  He said unto them, An enemy hath done this. The servants said unto him, Wilt thou then that we go and gather them up? But he said, Nay; lest while ye gather up the tares, ye root up also the wheat with them. Let both grow together until the harvest . . ..

-- Matthew 13:27ff.

David Jamieson, a Scottish leftist from Glasgow, provides a needed corrective to the idea that Luther was a radical revolutionary

For Jacobin Magazine here, from which this excerpt:

When Luther finally emerged from Wartburg, he became a force for restraint within the increasingly diverse Reformation movement. He called for a stop to many of the more aggressive changes and introduced a more gradual pace of change. ...

Characterizing Protestantism as the seed of the Enlightenment or of the classical liberal tradition ignores its often dogmatic forms and its relative disinterest in intellectual life outside theology. Indeed, in the Reformation period itself, many Catholic humanist intellectuals, such as Desiderius Erasmus, rejected the movement for its sheer inflexibility. 

David Jamieson is on Twitter, here.

A fanatical personality, Emmanuel Carrère, recognizes his radical self not so much in Jesus but in Paul

From James Wood's review of his book, here in The New Yorker:

There is a certain type of mind, he writes elsewhere in this book, that is attracted to radical doctrines. “The more opposed it is to common sense, the more that proves its truth. The harder it is to believe, the more deserving you are. Paul personified this type of mind—which could be called fanaticism. Luke, as I imagine him, didn’t.” 

While it seems almost a necessity for religious founders to be fanatics and radicals, madmen of sorts, the question remains why the rest of us follow them in the numbers that we do.

As scholars of religion have long posited since Rudolf Otto, this element of fascination could be constitutive of being religious, but more so of simply being human. It expresses itself in a range, from something as ordinary as when everyone slows down to gawk at the car crash on the side of the road to that rare individual who is driven to take vows of poverty and silence.

Where one falls on the spectrum is a subject of the examined life.

Reinhold Niebuhr's Christianity fatefully argued that the end justifies the means, playing into the hands of today's radicals

With which Jesus would most certainly not have agreed, otherwise we would know Jesus as a zealot instead of as an eschatological prophet who eschewed human agency in establishing the kingdom of God.

The pacifism against which Niebuhr was reacting is simply one of human beings' competing fall-back positions put forward from his teaching to take the place of Jesus' ultimately mistaken prediction of the end of the world. Pacifism is monstrous in the sense that it is an exaggeration of a part of Jesus' message, distorting that message, as are all interpretations divorced from the eschatological imperative, including Niebuhr's.

There is a direct line connecting Niebuhr to the present, where leftist radicals now eschew the nonviolence of previous civil rights movements and justify aggravated battery in the streets, destruction of private property, and suppression of freedom of speech, among other crimes against the liberal democratic order, in the name of the goals of that order. It's not a coincidence that Niebuhr is a hero to people like Barack Obama, John McCain and James Comey, realists who justify lying for the greater good.

If Niebuhr were alive today, one wonders if the irony of the unintended consequences of his own thinking would be lost on him.

Reinhold Niebuhr, recently discussed here:

A reviewer wrote in 1933 of Moral Man and Immoral Society, “To call this book fully Christian in tone is to travesty the heart of Jesus’ message to the world.” The reviewer took issue with the text because Niebuhr implied that Christians must sometimes resort to violence when dealing with groups. Niebuhr traded barbs with pacifists for the rest of the decade. “If modern churches were to symbolize their true faith,” he wrote in 1940, “they would take the crucifix from their altars and substitute the three little monkeys who counsel men to ‘speak no evil, hear no evil, see no evil.” ... In his view the aggressive fascist powers stood on one side. On the other were the naïve pacifists who would refuse to fight evil. We must choose the sensible middle ground, he argued. We must do evil for the sake of the good.

Francis Chan's radical discipleship isn't so radical that he can't own two restaurants, a marina and a hotel

Here, in the opening after the prayer, by his own admission.

He's not exactly the utterly penniless itinerant prophet like Jesus, nor even the itinerant self-supporting apostle and laborer like Paul. He's what is called a rentier. He uses the income to support his family, which lives frugally, and his work, which is noteworthy.

But who knows? Maybe some day he'll actually trust God and go all the way. For now Francis Chan still does not grasp that repentance according to Jesus means, "No man can be my disciple who does not say goodbye to everything that he owns."

The Religion of Piece of Ass: Sex slaves permitted under Islam according to radical UK imam

Ali Hammuda, secretly recorded and quoted here:

‘One of the interpretations as to what this means is that towards the end of time there will be many wars like what we are seeing today, and because of these wars women will be taken as captives, as slaves, yeah, women will be taken as slaves. And then, er, her master has relations with her because this is permissible in Islam, it’s permissible to have relations with a woman who is your slave or your wife.’

Radical? You Can't Handle The Radical

 

 

And neither could they, which is why only a faint glimmer of the real man peeks out of the literary remains.

The New Testament is a box into which they stuffed the earnest Jewish boy who took himself a little too seriously and got himself killed. A nice neat little box where God can be kept and put safely on a shelf, where he no longer causes any embarrassment, or any trouble.

There are no authentic followers of Jesus today, just as there were none then.

Following, repentance, being a disciple, pick your favorite locution. They are all predicated on the imminent end of the world, without which there is no urgency:

to abandon customary human decency and let the dead bury the dead,

to subsume traditional family relationships under a wider set of mothers, sisters and brothers,

to say goodbye to everything that you own . . . without fanfare,

to risk making the members of your own household your enemies,

to preach so desperately quickly that Ye shall not have gone over the cities of Israel, till the Son of man be come.

Even in the Passion Narrative, which retools him from the later perspective of a sacrifice for sins, the inadequacy of his followers "following" is yet remembered: They fall asleep while he is sweating bullets. More remarkably, the memory of the faith of the fanatic remains unshaken: You will see the son of man, he told his judges at his trial, coming on the clouds of glory.

Has anyone seen those clouds? Is life really different now?

Jesus died a singularity, he whose mighty criticism of his own religion managed to outlive his failed prediction of the consummation of everything. The moral force of that prophetic career, stretching back to Isaiah and the living God of the patriarchs, lives on still and inspires people everywhere, some of whom however wrongly imagine that it is a virtue to take themselves as seriously as he took himself.

Well, go right ahead. It's a free country . . . for a little while longer.

But while you do, consider that your hero, Paul, thought that one man dying for the sins of the people was quite enough, thank you very much. Instead, Paul would tell all you idealists out there something you don't want to hear. He'd tell you to live quietly, mind your own business, and maybe pick the weeds and mow the grass. Maybe lots of grass, just to keep you out of trouble.

You'll understand when you're older, with a little luck, if you should live so long.