1. I want a psychology centered on depravity
That is to say, when people look at the human psyche, I want the first thing they recognize to be that it’s broken and destructive. Inversely, when people think about depravity, I want them to recognize that it’s most apparent in the human psyche — our bodies in themselves don’t immediately evoke depravity; what goes on inside our heads that makes us do the things we do with our bodies does. Somewhat tangentially, I also want the church as a whole to find some way to interface its categories of mind, body, and spirit with psychological categories. I want to know how the soul relates to the superego.
John Ahern writes,
(Emphasis on the not.)
There are a lot of common avenues of arguing about Church music that I think are seriously flawed and particularly destructive because they may be arguing for the right music for the wrong reasons. Here I’m simply outlining the ways I think are particularly unwise—perhaps in another place I can begin to outline the ways I think one ought to do it. (The bold affirms what I do not.)
Yes, I know I posted yesterday, but that was just an explanation of where I’d been, and where I would be, and contained no real content: therefore, I take the liberty of posting again.
This poem is the result of a visit I payed to an Anglican church while working in Meritt. Apparently, there are two varieties of Anglicans: the faithful, Bible-preaching, psalm-singing, sin-confessing kind, and the rest. I met with the rest.
It was a woman “pastor”, who talked about how Elijah gave his mantle to Elisha, and encouraged the congregation to do the same, passing the mantle on to others who came after. It was bitter irony to notice that there was no person in the church under fifty. The church had lost its youth, and no one was there to receive the mantle: I was in a dead church. I was saddened deeply when I saw all the old people nod in agreement with her, not realizing the impossibility of following her advice. When I talked to her after the service, bringing up the Scripture passages which preach against women leading the Church, she eventually declared boldly that the Bible contradicted itself, was not directly given by God, and should not be followed all the time. Eventually they called in security (a tottering elderly man named Bert) to deal with me and my Scripture, but I left. It was the first time I had ever seen such a church, who were led by a blasphemous woman, and refused to see their own withered state. Here’s the poem.
Dry Rot
I saw a church and graveyard:
And the second more alive than the first.
Elijah’s mantle came to Elisha,
But who waits to carry on here?
The crop has failed, and you have garnered no seeds.
‘Tis the bitterest sight of all –
An autumn turning to a springless winter -
And they know it not.
The dead, at least, admit themselves to have died:
But what of those who deny it?
And when truth’s honey turns poison in your mouth,
To ignore the taste is foolish.
And when the she-shepherd smiles with wolf-fangs benevolent,
Tarry not.
John Ahern writes,
As with all debates, there are some things left over you wish you had had time to say or points that weren’t brought up that you’d like to be brought up. That’s the great thing about Pontification Ad Nauseam, of course – the discussion is on-going. I do fully hope that Nick, James, and Philip respond to this as they see fit. I’m addressing here a point that James and Nick made toward the end of the round regarding the dear old syllogism.
I. God cannot say something untrue. (Heb. 6:18)
II. The Bible is spoken by God. (2 Timothy 3:16, 2 Samuel 23:2, 2 Peter 3:15-16)
III. Therefore, the Bible contains nothing untrue.
PAN has started a new series (hopefully) of “dialogs” – several editors, over audio, discussing certain issues. The particular issue here is a perennial favorite of the PANers. John Ahern, Philip Hilton, James McCord, and Nick Embrey all discussed Scriptural infallibility for about 2 hours. This is the (largely) unedited recording of what we came up with.
Here are the links to the mp3 files of the discussion.
Sarah Roorda borrows heavily from James B. Jordan in order to come up with thoughts to ramble about
Wikipedia defines women’s studies as “an interdisciplinary academic field which explores politics, society and history from an intersectional, multicultural women’s perspective. It critiques and explores societal norms of gender, race, class, sexuality, and other social inequalities.” This is probably all a lot of nonsense and should be scoffed into oblivion.
On the other hand, I think it possible that the conservative side of the church has got its own problems and should probably have it’s own set of women’s studies. I’d suggest beginning with Jael. View Full Post
Elizabeth Ten-Hove wonders…
In all but the driest and coldest regions of the world, mosquitoes are a menace. Armies of them appear at the first sign of spring and tirelessly campaign until hard frosts or drought kill them off. Itchy red bits are a customary cross of the summer, and a relentless drone greets the twilight as predictably as birdsong at sunrise. Quite apart from the annoyance, mosquitoes are dangerous carriers of diseases like malaria and West Nile Virus, diseases that afflict thousands, if not millions, of men, women, and children, especially in the poorest areas of the world. It’s hard to see any redeeming quality in the blood-sucking insect; it isn’t even beautiful. What was God thinking when He made such a creature? View Full Post
John Ahern writes,
In reading some of the fairy tales of both the Grimms, Anderson, and various others, one salient feature of a great many of them is this concept of the Forbidden Fruit. A Forbidden Fruit is something irresistibly desirable for little better reason than that it is forbidden. It isn’t an impulse based in the usual human desires, psychological, physical, or otherwise, but simply an impulse to do something because it’s off limits.
This is the first installment of what will be a multi-part series on the issue of infant baptism. As everyone knows, the ground must be tilled before the seeds can be sown, so, to get things going, here is a parable.
Once, there were two flowers who were planted into a garden. This garden was the only place that received water for many miles around. Both flowers were told many things by the Gardener, and one in particular. “If you wish for your seeds to be watered and grow,” He said, “then they must be planted in this garden. If you drop a seed into the earth, I will water it, and that will tell you that it will live. If you do as I command, your offspring will multiply and fill the garden.”
The first flower, when it was ready to seed, dropped its seeds into the ground around itself. Soon enough, the Gardener came with His can, and watered the seeds. They began to sprout. While they were growing, the first flower told them what it had been told about the garden. Soon, they were mature flowers, even more beautiful than the first, and there were many of them.
Now, the second flower heard the gardener’s instructions, but had a strange interpretation. It thought that it had to let its seeds decide for themselves whether they wanted to grow or not. So, it grew up alongside a wooden fence, and when it was time to seed, dropped every last seed onto the hard wood. Then, the flower sat and waited to see if they would fall into the garden or not. But the very next day, the sun came and beat down on the seeds, and they withered. The following day, a hot wind came and blew most of the seeds off of the ledge, into the dry hard earth outside the garden. Those seeds were never watered, and died. Some fell into the garden: but these were few.
Which flower was wiser?
John Ahern scribbles deliriously,
Some storm-tossed sailors have just landed on some coast outside Africa. They’ve just been saved from a gale sent by Juno, who has a thing with these Trojans. Venus, who has a different thing with these Trojans (Aeneas happens to be her son), comes whining to Zeus, calling him out for not keeping his promises to the poor, destitute Trojans. Not particularly worried about pandering to the special interests of lobbyists—he is a somewhat partisan figure himself—Jove consoles Venus, telling her that, in fact, the Trojans’ luck will turn. They’ll settle in Latium and someday have an empire. Bigger than anybody else’s. An imperium sine fine.
