Confessing Evangelical

This striking map (reminiscent in a way of this famous "New Yorker" cover) is taken from a report in today's Daily Telegraph on the growing North-South divide in the UK, and in particular the growing dominance of London in the South East. As the report puts it:

In London's suburbs are the universities of Oxford and Cambridge, its education enclaves; at its extremities are the beaches of Devon and Cornwall, where many Londoners spend their summer weekends. London's edge suburb is not Croydon, but Bristol.

"Its parks are not in Hampstead, but in Hampshire. Its commuter belt extends to the end of the M3 and M11, to Leamington Spa on the M40, to Chepstow on the M4. The M25 is now its inner ring road.

London's population is booming at the expense of declining Northern towns and cities, as "the young and the educated flood into this metropolis".

'Sfunny, I thought I moved south in 1996 to get married to the woman I love, but it turns out I was just part of a general migration of "skilled young people [moving] in unprecedented numbers towards and into the capital." Just one small datum in a vast statistical trend...

So, why did English Lutheranism fail to blossom? How did we go from the situation in the 1520s and 1530s - when to be an English Protestant was almost synonymous with being Lutheran - to the 1550s, when Lutheran teachings were explicitly repudiated by the Church of England?

AG Dickens puts most of the blame on the Lutherans, starting with the Schmalkaldic League's insistence that Henry VIII's England adopt the Augsburg Confession. During the 1540s, Cranmer made a number of important links with European Reformers (most notably, Martin Bucer), but failed to make much headway with the Lutherans in Germany:

"The men [Cranmer] befriended display in their life-stories almost the whole range of European religious politics, yet amongst them one grievous omission remained. Cranmer failed to persuade Melanchthon or any other representative leader of the Lutherans to visit England. Though henceforth foreign influences upon the English Reformation increased, they came not from Wittenberg but from Strassburg, Zurich and Geneva. The Saxon Reformers, having gained their local objectives, left the leadership of international Protestantism to others, and their renunciation has an especial importance in the history of English religion" (p319)

Lutheran isolation from the English church increased during the reign of Mary, when many English Protestants escaped to the Continent:

During their years of exile eight English congregations were established in the continent ... Despite the pleas of Melanchthon the Lutheran states proved most inhospitable, partly because they believed English Protestants held the wrong sacramental beliefs, partly because they feared political complications. Whatever the justification for this attitude it should be numbered among the many opportunities lost by the ultra-cautious Lutherans, and it killed any remaining possibility that the English Church might gravitate into a Lutheran orbit. (pp.389f.)

Though Dickens does speculate later on what might have happened had Henry VIII taken a more conciliatory approach in the 1530s:

If Henry had foreseen the ultimate political dangers of Calvinist Protestantism, he might have been prompted to thrust aside his scruples and adopt as his State-religion a fully-fledged Lutheranism, with its veneration for the godly prince. Yet whether this would have exorcised more radical creeds or merely paved the way for their advent, we can only conjecture.(p.447)

However, I do wonder if Dickens is being a little harsh on the Lutherans. Unfortunately I do not know as much as I'd like about the history of the Lutheran Reformation after Luther's death (the point at which most English-speaking histories of the Reformation lose interest in Wittenberg and turn their attention instead to Geneva). But the years following Luther's death were not easy ones for the Lutheran Church (despite Dickens' rather lofty assertion that the Lutherans "having gained their local objectives, left the leadership of international Protestantism to others").

In 1546, the Schmalkald War broke out, resulting in defeat for the (Lutheran) Schmalkadic League in 1547. This was followed by Charles V's attempt to impose a religious settlement (the Augsburg Interim) on the Holy Roman Empire, and the attempt by Melanchthon and others to reach a compromise in the Leipzig Interim. Only in 1555 was the position of Lutheranism assured within the Empire, with the Peace of Augsburg. But the theological disputes (occasioned, in part, by Melanchthon's compromises) continued for a further 20 years, until they were finally resolved in 1577 with the publication of the Formula of Concord.

In short, during the crucial years of Edward VI's reign (1547-1553), and the early years under Mary, the Lutheran theologians, far from sitting back on their gains and letting the Calvinists run amok in England and elsewhere, were still engaged in a fight to preserve the Gospel from external aggression and internal error and dissension. For an English Lutheran, it is certainly frustrating to think of "what might have been" had Lutheranism's early influence in England survived. But that's not to say that the Lutheran Church "dropped the ball" as Dickens seems to suggest.

However, I'll be grateful for any further input from anyone who knows more about this issue, particularly from the Lutheran side (and I'd also appreciate recommendations for English-language histories of the Reformation from a Lutheran perspective, or which go into the relationship between the English and Lutheran Reformations in more detail).

Reading AG Dickens' The English Reformation, one of the most striking features is the early influence of Lutheranism on the English Reformation, and how that influence was so quickly lost - so that, by 1553, the Forty-Two Articles (forerunners of the Thirty-Nine Articles) explicitly repudiated Lutheran teachings on the Real Presence.

In the 1520s, Lutheran influences first began to be found in England. Many important figures in the English Reformation - Tyndale, Coverdale, Bilney, Latimer, Cranmer, Frith, Ridley, Matthew Parker - were in Cambridge at the time of the White Horse Inn meetings, chaired by the Augustinian friar, and Lutheran, Robert Barnes. Many of these are known to have attended the White Horse Inn discussions. Tyndale's 1526 New Testament included translations of Luther's prefaces, and became a major source of Lutheran influence in those early years.

Lutheran influence peaked in the period 1532-1540, particularly due to two factors: the rise to power of Thomas Cromwell (who appears to have been genuinely committed to Lutheran teachings) and the development of Bible translations by William Tyndale, Miles Coverdale and John Rogers (who later became the first Marian martyr). The early Bible translations - much of whose content was adopted by the Authorised Version - remain the single greatest bequest of English Lutheranism to the church as a whole:

That [Cranmer] took a warm interest in the Great Bible is not in dispute, but literary responsibility for this (and all other early translations) belongs to the English Lutherans in the Tyndale tradition. The political initiative, the planning of publication, the finance, the pressure to impose the Great Bible upon the English Church, these came from the vicegerent Thomas Cromwell. (Dickens, pp.191-192)

During that same decade, Cranmer married Osiander's niece while in Germany, and Cromwell's negotiations with the Lutheran princes of the Schmalkaldic League. These negotiations foundered over the German insistence that the English church adopt the Augsburg Confession. Dickens (p.244) describes Henry VIII as having "a natural desire to manage his own Reformation", rather than accepting the doctrinal standards - and, by implication, doctrinal control - of foreign theologians.

The ultimate outcome of Cromwell's efforts was his execution on trumped-up charges of heresy and treason following Henry's abortive marriage to Anne of Cleves, which had been engineered by Cromwell in an attempt to build an alliance with the Lutheran princes. Two days after Cromwell's execution in 1540, Robert Barnes was martyred in an "even-handed" hanging of three Catholic traitors and burning of three Protestant heretics. As Dickens observes:

Under the stern eye of their own godly prince, Englishmen already found themselves marching along a via media. (p.249)

But in the 1540s, this Lutheran influence rapidly waned. By 1546, first Ridley and then (under Ridley's influence) Cranmer became persuaded of the "Ratramnian" doctrine of the Lord's Supper: namely, that as the body receives bread and wine, so the soul receives body and blood of Christ, which are present only spiritually and not corporeally (p.259).

While Cranmer's first Prayer Book of 1549 is often regarded as the most "Lutheran" version of the Book of Common Prayer, Dickens refers to its "studied ambiguity" on the issue of the Real Presence, and observes that even by this stage Cranmer and his associates were "no longer reverent disciples of Wittenberg". They rejected the "basic Lutheran concepts of consubstantiation [sic] and the ubiquity of Christ's glorified body", and the Prayer Book's order for Holy Communion retained more of the Canon of the Mass than had Luther's order (which retained only the Words of Institution) (pp.302f.).

By 1549, there was a growing influence from refugees fleeing persecution in continental Europe. This included Reformed figures such as Martin Bucer, John a Lasco, Peter Martyr and (from Scotland) John Knox:

...the foreigners, so many of whom were not merely non-Lutherans but anti-Lutherans, helped to prevent Protestant thought from consolidating in its earlier forms. (p.328)

As a result, the 1552 Prayer Book became the most "Protestant" edition ever issued, including explicitly "memorialist" wording at the distribution, and the last-minute insertion of the "Black Rubric" to pacify Knox, who had objected to the retention of kneeling at the distribution (p.342).

This was followed by the Forty-Two Articles of 1553, which (while adopting a number of articles from the Augsburg Confession) expressly rejected the Lutheran doctrine of the Real Presence in what became Article XXIX in the Thirty-Nine Articles. (There is no doubt that this Article was aimed specifically at Lutheranism, since the Roman doctrine of transubstantiation had already been dealt with in the preceding article).

So by the end of Edward VI's reign, the landscape of English Protestantism had changed markedly from its beginnings in the 1520s. Calvinistic and Zwinglian influences had almost completely driven out Lutheran teachings, though Lutheran influence remained in the English liturgy, a generally conservative approach to Reformation, and supremely through the English Bible. Lutheranism in England has never recovered from this early rejection.

But why did Lutheranism fail to take root in England? Dickens makes some suggestions on this point, which I'll pick up in my next post on this topic.

Q: How many James Boswells does it take to change an oil lamp?

A: Observing the remarkable lack of illumination in the room, I decided to mention this fact to Dr Johnson, in order that I might notice its effects upon him, and if possible make a brief catalogue of his animadversions upon the topick.

JOHNSON: Sir, I perceive that you do not know what you are about. The situation at hand is as nothing compared with the prodigious darknesses that we used to enjoy in Lichfield in Queen Anne's time, owing to the fortunate situation of that town, its abundance of ingenious manufactures, and our hearty dislike of meddling. Let the Whigs refill their lamps, Sir - I'll none of it!

Later Dr Johnson and I met with David Garrick and Sir Joshua Reynolds at the Mitre; we dined late there, Dr Johnson eating and drinking with such a prodigious appetite that we were all astonished.

(Thanks to David for coming up with this gem.)

I just don't seem to be able to leave this subject alone at the moment.... The print edition of the May/June 2001 issue of Modern Reformation included a fascinating extract from Peter Berger's book, The Heretical Imperative, in which Berger argues that we are all, in one sense, "heretics", because we are all now required to choose our religious beliefs rather than merely accepting a surrounding orthodox consensus:

The English word "heresy" comes from the Greek verb hairein, which means "to choose". A hairesis originally meant, quite simply, the taking of a choice ... The heretic denied the authority [of the surrounding religious tradition], refused to accept the tradition in toto. Instead, he picked and chose from the contents of the tradition.

While "this possibility of heresy has always existed in human communities ... the social context of this phenomenon has changed radically with the coming of modernity." In a pluralistic religious setting:

...individuals now must pick and choose. Having done so, it is very difficult to forget the fact. There remains the memory of the deliberate construction of a community of consent, and with this a haunting sense of the constructedness of that which the community affirms. Inevitably, the affirmations will be fragile and this fragility will not be very far from consciousness.

Berger gives the example of Lubavitcher Hassidism, "which constructs an artificial shtetl for its followers":

The difference from the old shtetl is, quite simply, this: All the individual has to do to get out of his alleged Jewish destiny is to walk out and take the subway. Outside, waiting, is the emporium of lifestyles, identities and religious preferences that constitutes American pluralism. It is hard to believe that this empirical fact can be altogether pushed out of the consciousness ... [The neotraditional] existence, consequently, has a fragility that is totally alien to a genuinely traditional community.

So however doctrinally orthodox we may be, however committed we may be to our church and its teachings, we can never quite escape that nagging thought at the back of our minds that (in human terms) we could easily have chosen a different path:

In the matter of religion ... the modern individual is faced not just with the opportunity but with the necessity to make choices as to his beliefs. This fact constitutes the heretical imperative in the contemporary situation. Thus, heresy, once the occupation of marginal and eccentric types, has become a much more general condition; indeed, heresy has become universalized.

The great weakness in Berger's approach is that he treats "heresy" as a sociological category rather than a theological one. While the discussion here over the past few days has (to my mind) yet to generate a completely convincing definition of the word "heresy", I'm sure we can all agree it is not merely a synonym for "dissent".

But Berger still makes some very perceptive points, in particular as to how modernity renders "orthodoxy" far more fragile and insecure than in previous eras. Certainly, as a recent convert to what is a tiny branch of the church in the UK context, I can feel the force of his point about the continuing consciousness of the "chosen-ness", rather than their "given-ness", of Lutheran beliefs; of being a sociological heretic.

I don't think Christopher Hitchens liked Fahrenheit 9/11:

Fahrenheit 9/11 is a sinister exercise in moral frivolity, crudely disguised as an exercise in seriousness. It is also a spectacle of abject political cowardice masking itself as a demonstration of "dissenting" bravery.

The rest of the review is one of the most entertaining demolition-jobs I've read in a while. Enjoy.

Before I leave this topic in search of happier subjects, searching on Luther Quest I found this very helpful brief guide to False Doctrines Throughout History. It includes a brief description of heresies dating from the early church, the Reformation period (including Calvinism) and the modern era (which, as you might expect, more than holds its own in comparison with earlier times). It also includes some suggestions for further reading on the subject.

On reflection, I agree with Josh that it is a mistake to use a narrow definition of "heresy". In response to comments from Josh and Chris J, here are some assorted further thoughts on the subject, in no particular order:

1. I found the following point from Josh particularly helpful: that "heresy" does not mean, "a belief that will send you to hell", but instead "a teaching that cannot be taught in the church". Chris J also put it well in the comments: "Heresy doesn't mean that those who believe it aren't saved. It's a belief that, if true, means that none of us is saved, because if the heresy is the truth, the Gospel isn't the truth."
   


2. There is indeed, as Josh put it, a need to be "serious and sober" about heresy, as were the framers of the Lutheran Confessions. Primarily, this involves (for me at least) learning to be less embarrassed about saying, lovingly but firmly, "that is a heresy". But it also includes being careful in how we use the word, particularly in the context of debate with other Christians who hold heretical views. The words, "that is a heresy" will be heard by many people as, "you are going to hell". That's not to say we shouldn't use the word, but that effective communication requires us to understand how our words will be received. "You are a heretic" shuts down debate (and sometimes debate does need to be shut down, of course). "What you are saying is in fact heretical, because..." may help us win our brother.
   


3. Indeed, the argument that Calvinistic teachings on the Lord's Supper are heretical played no small part in persuading me of the Lutheran teaching. "How can you, who profess to be an orthodox, catholic Christian, hold to a heretical teaching, or a teaching with heretical implications?" was a persuasive argument.
   


4. Josh raises the difficulties Protestants have in rejecting open theism, perfectionism, "re-baptism" and other heresies (there, I said it). One wonders if modern "evangelical" writers would be quite so quick to put forward views such as "open theism" or to reject substitutionary atonement or traditional teachings on hell, if there were a greater willingness to use the "H" word.
   
   I'm not thinking here about people's reluctance to be branded as heretics themselves, so much as what these new teachings say, by implication, about earlier generations of the church. If God lacks foreknowledge about the future - if He is not sovereign over His creation - if Christ's death was not a propitiatory sacrifice for the sins of the world - if unrepentant sinners are annihilated rather than suffering eternal punishment in hell - then our forebears, who held these doctrines, were heretics. I suspect that if some people saw that this is the implication of what they are saying, they would think twice before indulging in such speculation or theological innovation.
   


5. However, another aspect to being "serious and sober" about heresy does involve making the sort of distinction I was driving at in my original post. There are some teachings which immediately threaten the salvation of those who hold them - for example, the recent assertion by one Episcopal bishop that Jesus was a sinner, or holding to Mormon/JW teachings.
   
   Other heresies are held by those who will indeed be with us in eternity. Their heretical views do not necessarily imperil their salvation, but that does not mean these teachings are tolerable - not least because taken to their logical conclusion (and sooner or later, as I said before, all teachings are taken to their logical conclusion, even if not by their original adherents) they will indeed cause immeasurable damage to the church and imperil the salvation of others. I accept that I was wrong to deny that teachings of the latter type are properly called "heresies", but the distinction does still need to be made.
   

This whole issue seems to link in with the discussions over on the Here We Stand metablog about the doctrine of the church. While it is relatively straightforward to distinguish between true doctrine and heresy, it is more difficult to maintain a clear distinction between "the church" (or "Christians") and "heretics", without either implicitly damning millions of our fellow Christians, or acting as if heresy doesn't really matter all that much.

But in essence, I pretty much agree with what Josh had to say yesterday.

This is pretty amazing. From the farthest reaches of the universe, zooming down to subatomic level via Tallahassee, Florida. Thanks to Revd McCain.

The word "heresy" gets bandied around rather a lot on the web, not least in the Lutheran Blogosphere^TM. In particular, Lutherans often accuse Calvinists of Christological heresy, arguing that the Calvinistic doctrine of the Lord's Supper is essentially Nestorian. This is because it involves separating out the human and divine natures of Christ, with Christ's human nature being confined to a spacially-located "heaven", and only His divine nature being omnipresent.

However, Calvinists give as good as they get, arguing in return that Lutheran Christology (particularly the communicatio idiomatum) is a bizarre innovation held, out of the whole of Christendom over twenty centuries, only by Lutherans during the past five hundred years. The Lutheran doctrine of the Lord's Supper is essentially Monophysite, they assert (see, for example, Berkhof's Systematic Theology).

I do wonder whether this sort of thing really gets us anywhere. For starters, I am very reluctant to start using words like "heresy" in this context. Perhaps its partly a result of being English - it's difficult to hear the word "heresy" without this calling to mind the crackling of fires at Smithfield. And I have to declare a more personal interest: having been, until less than a year ago, a convinced Calvinist, I have no burning desire to denounce myself as a but recently-recanted heretic.

But my own view remains that a word like "heresy" should be restricted to the sort of error that involves a "clear and present danger" to a person's soul. For example, outright denial of the divinity of Christ or of the doctrine of the Trinity, or an outright assertion of some form of justification by works. These teachings put people in immediate eternal peril, and one of the biggest problems in the wider church today is the reluctance to call a spade a spade, denounce such teachings as heresy, and excommunicate those who insist on spreading such dangerous errors, particularly from the pulpit or the bishop's throne.

We may well believe that the Calvinistic doctrine of the Lord's Supper will sooner or later lead to a form of Nestorianism. We may well believe that Arminian teachings on salvation will sooner or later (and, to be frank, usually sooner) lead to a form of works-righteousness that overthrows justification by faith. For that reason, among others, it is right to oppose such teachings tooth and nail. But it is possible for people to be in error on such issues without necessarily losing their salvation. Ideas will always work out to their logical consequences in the end, but that doesn't necessarily happen in an individual life. People are remarkably adept at holding to inconsistent beliefs (for example, believing that they are saved by grace alone on account of Christ alone through faith alone, and yet speaking of their own freely-made "decision for Christ").

To take one example I've used before: John Wesley's doctrinal errors have caused incalculable damage to the church. But we'll have all eternity to talk that through with him (if we so wish) in heaven, where he most assuredly will be with us.

As we've seen, Calvinists accuse Lutherans of Monophysitism; Lutherans forcefully deny this allegation and insist that Calvinists are guilty of Nestorianism. This in turn is angrily rejected by Calvinists. And so it goes one. In short, both sides profess to hold to a Chalcedonian Christology, and deny that their teachings on the Lord's Supper contradict Chalcedon.

My view is that each side should take this claim from the other at face value. To a Lutheran, it may seem incomprehensible how a Calvinist can teach that Christ's human nature is as far removed from the bread and wine as the heavens are from the earth without contradicting the "without division, without separation" of Chalcedon. To a Calvinist, it seems equally impossible to imagine that one can speak meaningfully of a "human nature" that is not spacially located and confined, so that the Lutheran teaching is regarded as contradicting Chalcedon's "without confusion, without change". But each side is entitled to say to the other, "We don't pretend to understand how our teachings are to be reconciled with Chalcedon; we simply accept the paradox and hold the teachings in tension." If someone affirms Chalcedon and believes (albeit, in our view, mistakenly) that their other views do not contradict this, then we should not be too quick to apply the term "heretic", with all its connotations of damning error.

There is one reason which stands above all others for rejecting the Calvinistic doctrine of the Lord's Supper: the Bible does not teach it. The theory that "this is my body" means "as surely as you eat the bread, so surely do you receive Christ's body by faith", and "this is my blood" means "as surely as you drink the cup, so surely do you receive Christ's blood by faith" (to summarise the Reformed teaching as set out in q.75 of the Heidelberg Catechism) is elegant and not without its attractions. But it is simply not the teaching of Scripture - rather, it is an attempt to make Scripture fit preconceived notions of "what Jesus could have meant".

No doubt Lutherans are right to assert that the Reformed teaching on the Supper leads to a contradiction of Chalcedon, in which case there is clearly a case for saying to Calvinists, "Given that you profess Chalcedon, how can you hold to a doctrine of the Lord's Supper which contradicts it?" But baldly accusing Calvinists of Christological heresy only muddies the water, increases ill-will between fellow Christians - and doesn't affect that central fact, of the teaching of Scripture, one way or another.

It's not easy to convey just what a joy - and what a load off my shoulders - it has been to see Matthew finally brought to Holy Baptism. For at least the past nine months - before he was even born - one of my biggest concerns has been how, when and even whether we would have the opportunity to bring Matthew to this "life-giving water, rich in grace" (being at that time still members of a Baptist church). So to see Matthew finally receive this "washing of the new birth in the Holy Spirit" had, for me, a distinctly Nunc Dimittis aspect to it.

In the happy glow of seeing Matthew baptised, it'd be easy for me to forget that Baptism is a beginning, not an end - and to forget the gravity of what has happened. So here, as much for my benefit as anyone else's, are some salutary words from Martin Luther's introduction to his 1523 Order of Baptism:

In all Christian earnestness I would ask all those who administer baptism, who hold the children, or witness it, to take this wonderful work to heart in all its seriousness. For here, in the words of these prayers, you hear how meekly and earnestly the Christian church concerns itself about the little child and how it confesses before God in plain undoubting words that he is possessed by the devil and is a child of sin and wrath, and prays very diligently for aid and grace through baptism that he may become a child of God.

Remember therefore, that it is no joke to take sides against the devil and not only to drive him away from the little child, but to burden the child with such a mighty and lifelong enemy. Remember too, that it is very necessary to aid the poor child with all your heart and strong faith, earnestly to intercede for him that God, in accordance with this prayer, would not only free him from the power of the devil, but also strengthen him, so that he may nobly resist the devil in life and death. And I suspect that people turn our so badly after baptism because our concern for them has been so cold and careless; we, at their baptism, interceded for them without zeal.

[...]

See to it, therefore, that you are present in true faith, listen to God's Word, and earnestly join in prayer. For when the priest says, "Let us pray," he is exhorting you to unite with him in prayer ... so that the sponsors may hear and comprehend [the prayers] and also pray with him with one accord in their hearts, carrying the little child's need before God most earnestly, setting themselves against the devil with all their strength on behalf of the child, and showing that they realize this is not joke as far as the devil is concerned.

For this reason, it is right and proper not to permit drunken and boorish priests to baptize or such people to serve as sponsors. But decent, moral, earnest, and pious priests and sponsors ought to be chosen who can be expected to treat the matter with seriousness and true faith, lest the holy sacrament be made a mockery for the devil and an insult to God, who through it showers us with the abundant and infinite riches of his grace. He himself calls it a new birth by which we are being freed from all the devil's tyranny, loosed from sin, death, and hell, and become children of life, heirs of all the gifts of God, God's own children, and brethren of Christ. Ah, dear Christians, let us not value and administer this unspeakable gift so indolently and indifferently; for baptism is our only comfort and admits to every blessing of God and to the communion of all the saints. To this may God help us. Amen.

What is the church - prayed for by Christ, sustained by His Word - for? In his essay, Sanctorum Communio, Hermann Sasse answers this question, and summarises the early church's mission and evangelism programme:

Today as always people ask, What does the church actually do? It prays. The praying church [ecclesia orans] is one of the constantly recurring themes of early Christian art. The church prays. Thus it was at the beginning. "All these with one accord devoted themselves to prayer" it says of the first believers after Christ's ascension (Acts 1:14). "They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers" it says of the church at Pentecost [2:42]. "Day by day, attending the temple together and breaking bread in their homes, they [were] ... praising God and having favor with all the people." (v.46).

They founded no mission society, organized no city mission, wrote no books on "dynamic evangelism". Instead, they celebrated the Sacrament and prayed continually. "And the Lord added to their number day by day those who were being saved" (2:47).

Current reading includes AG Dickens' The English Reformation ("masterly" - TLS). Some fascinating stuff on Lollardy and the links/contrasts with English Protestantism, on which I hope to get round to blogging later this week. But in the meantime, I loved the following comment on Martin Luther (p.91):

By any criterion, he is a mountainous phenomenon in the history of religion and his flanks are littered with the corpses of incautious climbers who thought to scale him with a few pieces of simple equipment - Anglican, Catholic, Freudian, Marxist - or for that matter Lutheran!

As an email correspondent put it to me recently, "It's not surprising that God grants His church such spiritual giants like Luther only every few centuries. It takes so long for subsequent generations to grasp what they were all about."

The same correspondent also pointed me to this article on Peter Leithart's blog, which provides some interesting points of comparison between Luther and Melancthon. This includes the suggestion that one source of the greatest contrast between Luther and Melancthon - the latter's "moderation" vs the former's more, let's say, "pungent" approach - may have been Melancthon's interest in astrology:

"Melanchthon's conviction that the created order, especially the stars and planets, contributed to human evil led him to choose - or at least to pray for - a course of moderation as his way of resisting those very natural tendencies in a fallen world. Luther's conviction that the devil had a hand in theological contentions led to precisely the opposite response. Whatever his personality may have contributed, Luther's anger was a controlled, theological response to the devil's attacks on the gospel" (p. 86). For Luther, "the Reformation unfolded as a series of attacks and counterattacks on, or true testimonies to, the gospel." Melanchthon saw history "unfolding in the progression of teachers and learners - a process interrupted not only by the devil but also by the natural forces causing dissension and yet fostered by the practice of moderation"

Thank you for all your kind comments and your prayers. It was a wonderful day - great service, great sermon from our pastor, then a lovely family buffet lunch back at our house, with the forecast rain failing to materialise until late in the afternoon.

But when it comes to what the best part of the day was, I'm with Thomas, our older son. My wife asked him in the evening what his favourite thing had been during the day. It would have been entirely in character for him to say something like, "Eating the chocolate crispies that I made" or "playing with Aunty Kirsty".

But his reply was: "Seeing Matthew get baptised." That's m'boy!

Big day coming up on Sunday: our younger son, Matthew, is due to be baptised (despite having just gone down with chicken pox...).

A number of contrasts with his brother's baptism three years ago. In human terms, it is a "smaller" event (family and godparents only, buffet lunch at home rather than a church hall-full of friends and relations). But for Thomas' baptism, since (as good Reformed evangelicals) we firmly rejected baptismal regeneration, we largely saw it as an opportunity for "witness" - one reason for the big guest list. What's wonderful this time around is having a fuller understanding of just what an amazing event this will be - that Holy Baptism is a supernatural event, nothing less than a miracle.

Here's what will - God willing - be happening to Matthew on Sunday morning. As the water is poured onto him by Christ's minister declaring Christ's Words, Matthew will:

• become a disciple of Jesus Christ;
  


• be born again of water and the Spirit;
  


• have his sins forgiven and washed away;
  


• be baptized into Christ, into His death and resurrection;
  


• become a new creation;
  


• put on Christ;
  


• be cleansed and sanctified by the washing of water with the word; and
  


• be saved by the washing of regeneration and renewal by the Holy Spirit.
  

In a word, he will be saved. Quite a day :-)

Your prayers will be very welcome - especially that Matthew's chicken pox will remain mild, so that he'll be in good spirits on Sunday, and also for our family members who will be attending, most of whom are likely to find the Lutheran way of doing things unfamiliar or even unwelcome, in a variety of different ways (the guest list includes outright atheists through to conservative evangelicals, and several points in-between).

If Christ's intercession for His church is the secret of her survival, then what is the means by which Christ preserves the church for which He intercedes? In his sermon, "Jesus Intercedes for His Church", Sasse continues:

As the Word founded the church ... so the Word of Christ preserves the church. Not the most brilliant of human organizing, not the most splendid liturgy, not the wisest of men, not the most splendid church buildings preserve the church. It is done by the Word alone, by the plain Word of the Gospel as the saving message of the forgiveness of sins. "Fruitful ethics can be found also in Confucianism, a resplendent hierarchy also with the Dalai Lama, scientific theology also in the synagogue, a battle against alcohol also among the Turks, and a youth movement also in Moscow -- forgiveness of sins alone with Jesus Christ."

The Word of forgiveness which only Jesus Christ can speak, because it is He who has borne the sin of the world, the Word of forgiveness His church is to speak as it follows Him - that is the Gospel.

Make anything central to Christianity other than the Word of forgiveness in and through Jesus Christ - make any article of faith other than justification your "first and chief article" - and the uniqueness of the Gospel is lost.

When we read texts like Acts 4:12:

...there is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved.

it's easy for us to overlook the fact that there are two claims made here that are unique to the Christian Gospel. Firstly, obviously, that salvation can only be found in Jesus Christ. But we can easily overlook the second, implicit point here: that salvation and the forgiveness of sins are in fact what we need above all else. It's not merely that other religions posit different "saviours" or means of salvation, but that the very concept of salvation - in the Christian sense of an external intervention to rescue utterly helpless, lost, doomed sinners - is itself a distinctively Christian perspective. The Gospel proclaims a unique diagnosis as well as a unique remedy.

This is one reason why it is so healthy to read at least part of Luther's Small Catechism every day. The forgiveness of sins is central throughout, whether in Luther's exposition of the second and third articles of the Creed, or in his teachings on Holy Baptism, Confession and the Lord's Supper, or in the "little prayers" he gives for use in the morning and evening.

While we go scurrying off after this or that issue - how Christians should be involved in politics and social issues; how we can overcome particular habits in our lives; what the precise mode is of the Real Presence in the Lord's Supper; etc, etc - Luther keeps us focussed on what really matters in the end: have our sins been forgiven? Are we righteous before God?

An engaging tribute to the Midwest, from the Midwest Conservative Journal. Chris Johnson quotes James Lilek's remarks that on the prairie you realise that:

The earth is flat and the sky is big, and you're a small lone thing rolling between the two. True Midwesterners have no time for oceans--all that pointless motion. It comes in, it goes out. What's the point? True Midwesterners have no time for mountains. They're so obvious. They don't do anything. We have mountains, in a way; they're called clouds. And they move. Can yours do that?

Chris & James: you've almost persuaded me. But all the same, give me the Yorkshire Dales anyday:


Update: Knew there was a reason why I love that view of Burnsall (above). At the party after Matthew's Baptism yesterday, it came up in conversation that Burnsall is where my maternal grandmother grew up, and my grandparents had a painting of that scene in their house. I'd remembered the painting but forgotten the family link. But in any event, it's one of the most beautiful views in England - in the face of some pretty stiff opposition. :-)

If you're anything like me, then you'll be prone to frequent bouts of near-despondency at the state of the church and the prospects for the survival of the Gospel, particularly in the West. "By schisms rent asunder, by heresies distressed". I therefore found the opening essay from Hermann Sasse's "We Confess the Church" very encouraging:

The preservation of the church is no smaller miracle than its founding, just as the preservation of the world is no smaller miracle than the creation. It is by no means self-evident that the church should continue. Many a people among whom there was a flourishing church has rejected this church. There is no sadder sight than the ruins of old churches, such as may be seen in parts of Asia which have sunk back into heathenism.

No lesser man than Martin Luther reckoned with the possibility that the church might one day be taken from our people. "God's Word and grace is like rain which falls on one place and then goes on to fall on another, not returning again to where it once was before." He pointed out to those lands which were once a part of ancient Christendom but which sank back again into heathenism, and he spoke the warning: "You Germans must not imagine that it will be yours forever. Unthankfulness and scorn of it will not let it remain."

But while there is no promise that individual churches will survive, or that individual nations will retain the Gospel, the promise still stands that the gates of hell will not prevail against the church. However, the evidence of church history demonstrates how this is far from self-evident. What, therefore, is the secret of the church's survival?

The answer is found in the title to Sasse's sermon - "Jesus Intercedes for His Church" - and in its text, John 17:6-23.

Christ prays for us, and His prayer is heard. ... He prays for us. He prays for His church on earth. This is the miracle of the church's preservation. Hear Luther's confession of this fact:

It is not we who are able to maintain the church, nor could those before us, nor will those who come after us be able to do so. It is only He who says, "Lo, I am with you always, to the close of the age." It has always been He, is He now, and will always be He. As it is written in Heb 13, "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever." And Rev 1, "...who is and who was and who is to come." He is the Man. That is His name, which belongs to no other man, nor may it be given to any other.

Oh, if one could only believe this! Oh, if we would be learn from this great and childlike trust of Luther's! How much less would cares for the church oppress us if we would only cast our cares upon Him who has taken the care of the Church upon Himself.

If, like me, you have never quite been able to summon up any desire to read Ulysses - though I did once manage to get through 2/3rds of the opening page of Finnegan's Wake - here's all you need to make sense of today's "Bloomsday Centenary" celebrations: Ulysses for Dummies (warning: some "adult" content).

Several weeks ago, I promised to post a summary of Dr Ronald Feuerhahn's recent lecture at our church on "The Uniqueness of the Lutheran Reformation". This is the lecture which sparked off a correspondence on close(d) communion with a Baptist friend of mine who attended the lecture.

This summary is now available on my long blog. The most powerful aspect of the lecture was Dr Feuerhahn's use of a Law/Gospel analysis to demonstrate how, on almost every issue at stake in the reform of the church, what made the Lutheran Reformation unique was its commitment to put the Gospel, rather than the Law, at the heart of reformation and church life. You may also get a sense of what it was about Dr Feuerhahn's lecture that so dismayed my Baptist friend ("Although the speaker spoke softly, I found his attitude somewhat offensive and many of his claims simply wrong")...

Christopher Fildes has written an illuminating piece on how (contrary to popular belief) the biggest problem facing the third world is not globalisation, but in fact quite the opposite: hypocritical protectionism by Western countries.

Fildes points out that:

Free trade is seen [by many] as oppressive and fair trade its virtuous opposite. The labourer is worthy of his hire and in a just world would be rewarded with a better price for his coffee. Catering to this instinct, Tesco now advertises its own brand of fair-trade coffee - which is, in its own way, a free-market response.

The calls for greater justice for Africa and other regions are then met by action plans, G8 "partnerships", increases in aid (which, as Fildes points out, "transfers money from poor people in rich countries to rich people in poor countries.") and so on. But what Africa needs is something quite different: "the chance to trade its way to better times." That would mean that the rich countries would need to practise what they preach:

They tell everybody else to adjust, liberalise and respond to market forces, in the true spirit of globalisation - but do they take their own advice? Only when it suits them. At other times they make it harder for poor countries to supply them. Against the menace of imports from Bangladesh, the cowering United States protects itself with tariffs which average out at 14pc.

Which is a pretty astounding - not to mention shocking - statistic. But there is one industry more than any other to which this applies:

Farming, in rich countries, is the industry from which market forces have been driven out. Instead it is surrounded by tariffs and ruled and rigged by a system of quotas and subsidies. Cows, in these countries, belong to a privileged class. Thanks to the Common Agricultural Policy, every cow in Europe has a private income of $913 a year, and Japanese cows are even richer.

That compares with the World Bank's definition of "extreme poverty" as an income of less than $365 (a dollar a day). A billion people meet this definition. Yes, that's right: a billion human beings on this planet have have an income at least 60% less than a European cow.

Something more than lecturing and gesturing will now be needed if globalisation is to continue to work and if its enemies are to be won over. Its friends now need to dismantle the barriers that stop the aspiring labourer from being worthy of his hire. The farming regimes of rich countries would be the right place to start.

As Fildes points out earlier in the article that much of the world has enjoyed thirty years of increased prosperity, largely thanks to freer trade:

Given the chance, and spurred on by technological change, goods and services and money and information and people have all learned to flow more freely round the world. They had the knack a century earlier, they lost it when a suicidal war broke out in Europe, now they seem to have regained it. Free trade and prosperity have gone together.

As Fildes once put it elsewhere: "fair trade gives you a warm cosy glow, but free trade delivers the goods". It's clearly about time we started giving Africa and other third world countries the opportunity to benefit from that lesson.

Here's Charles Simeon's account of his meeting with the aged John Wesley. Words matter; doctrines matter; but this exchange is a great demonstration of how, when we look at what someone truly means, rather than merely the words they use, the differences between us may not be so great as we previously thought. In doctrinal issues as in everything else, the eighth commandment requires that we "explain everything in the kindest possible way":

"Sir, I understand that you are called an Arminian; and I have been sometimes called a Calvinist; and therefore I suppose we are to draw daggers. But before I consent to begin the combat, with your permission I will ask you a few questions. Pray, Sir, do you feel yourself a depraved creature, so depraved that you would never have thought of turning to God, if God had not first put it into your heart?"

"Yes, I do indeed."

"And do you utterly despair of recommending yourself to God by anything you can do; and look for salvation solely through the blood and righteousness of Christ?"

"Yes, solely through Christ."

"But, Sir, supposing you were at first saved by Christ, are you not somehow or other to save yourself afterwards by your own works?"

"No, I must be saved by Christ from first to last."

"Allowing, then, that you were first turned by the grace of God, are you not in some way or other to keep yourself by your own power?"

"No."

"What then, are you to be upheld every hour and every moment by God, as much as an infant in its mother's arms?"

"Yes, altogether."

"And is all your hope in the grace and mercy of God to preserve you unto His heavenly kingdom?"

"Yes, I have no hope but in Him."

"Then, Sir, with your leave I will put up my dagger again; for this is all my Calvinism; this is my election, my justification by faith, my final perseverance: it is in substance all that I hold, and as I hold it; and therefore, if you please, instead of searching out terms and phrases to be a ground of contention between us, we will cordially unite in those things wherein we agree."

John Wesley's errors - particularly as regards Arminianism and "complete sanctification" - were grievous, and have caused immeasurable damage to the church. But when one reads this exchange, can anyone really doubt that Wesley will be with us in heaven? And while I no longer believe the Calvinistic doctrines of limited atonement or the perseverance of the saints, I cannot see anything worth quarrelling with in Simeon's statement of his "Calvinism".

Shamelessly nicked off an LQ post, but I couldn't resist posting this. "See how these Christians love one another."

I was walking across a bridge recently. I spied this guy who looked like he was ready to jump off. So, I thought I'd try to stall him until the authorities showed up (or at least until I had time to put film in my camera).

"Don't jump!" I said.

"Why not?" he said. "Nobody loves me."

"God loves you," I said. "You believe in God, don't you?"

"Yes, I believe in God," he said.

"Good," I said. "Are you Christian or Jewish?"

"Christian," he said.

"Me, too!" I said. "Protestant or Catholic?"

"Protestant," he said.

"Me, too!" I said. "What kind of Protestant?"

"Baptist," he said.

"Me, too!" I said. "Independent Baptist or Southern Baptist?"

"Independent Baptist," he said.

"Me, too!" I said. "New Evangelical/Moderate Independent Baptist or Conservative Independent Baptist?"

"Conservative Independent Baptist," he said.

"Me, too!" I said. "Calvinistic Conservative Independent Baptist or Lose-Your-Salvation Arminian Conservative Independent Baptist?"

"Calvinistic Conservative Independent Baptist," he said.

"Me, too!" I said. "Dispensational Premillennial Calvinistic Conservative Independent Baptist OR Historical Premillennial Calvinistic Conservative Independent Baptist?"

"Dispensational Premillennial Calvinistic Conservative Independent Baptist," he said.

"Me, too!" I said. "Against Women in Ministry Dispensational Premillennial Calvinistic Conservative Independent Baptist OR For Women in Ministry Dispensational Premillennial Calvinistic Conservative Independent Baptist?"

"Against Women in Ministry Dispensational Premillennial Calvinistic Conservative Independent Baptist," he said.

"Me, too!" I said. "Unashamed Fundamentalist Against Women in Ministry Dispensational Premillennial Calvinistic Conservative Independent Baptist OR Strict Separation of Church and State Against Women in Ministry Dispensational Premillennial Calvinistic Conservative Independent Baptist?"

"Unashamed Fundamentalist Against Women in Ministry Dispensational Premillennial Calvinistic Conservative Independent Baptist," he said.

"Me, too!" I said. "Pro-Disney Boycott Pro-Life Unashamed Fundamentalist Against Women in Ministry Dispensational Premillennial Calvinistic Conservative Independent Baptist OR Anti-Disney Boycott Pro-Choice Unashamed Fundamentalist Against Women in Ministry Dispensational Premillennial Calvinistic Conservative Independent Baptist?"

"Pro-Disney Boycott Pro-Life Unashamed Fundamentalist Against Women in Ministry Dispensational Premillennial Calvinistic Conservative Independent Baptist," he said.

"Me, too!" I said. "KJV Only Pro-Disney Boycott Pro-Life Unashamed Fundamentalist Against Women in Ministry Dispensational Premillennial Calvinistic Conservative Independent Baptist OR Modern Versions Pro-Disney Boycott Pro-Life Unashamed Fundamentalist Against Women in Ministry Dispensational Premillennial Calvinistic Conservative Independent Baptist?"

"MODERN VERSIONS Pro-Disney Boycott Pro-Life Unashamed Fundamentalist Against Women in Ministry Dispensational Premillennial Calvinistic Conservative Independent Baptist," he said.

"Auugghh!!! You heretic!" I said. And I pushed him over.

From the Manchester Guardian, 14 June 1946. Probably...

Despite the apparent success of the US-led Coalition's invasion of Europe in 1944 and subsequent "victory" over Germany last year, we continue to hold that our opposition to the invasion was correct. Here are ten reasons why:

1. The invasion was unlawful, being launched without a specific League of Nations mandate.
   


2. Despite the "mission accomplished" triumphalism of "Victory in Europe" Day, Europe remains deeply unstable, with continued fighting by insurgents in the "Balkan Triangle" of Yugoslavia and Greece.
   


3. The dismantling and removal of German industrial capability by Coalition troops proves that - for all the talk of resisting aggression and saving democracy - the war really was "all about steel".
   


4. Britain and the US have caused serious and possibly irreparable damage to relations with France, by forcing the French to accept foreign liberation when they were perfectly capable of liberating themselves, given time.
   


5. Germany has never been able to function as a democracy, being ruled instead by a series of dictatorial "strongmen". Any attempt to impose democracy from without is therefore doomed to failure.
   


6. There is still no sign of US and British troops returning home. Suggestions have been made that Coalition troops could be tied up in Germany for decades, leading critics to describe the situation as "a new Philippines".
   


7. Despite it being more than a year since their "liberation", many Germans remain without basic electricity and water supplies.
   


8. It now seems clear that, contrary to claims made before and during the war, Germany had little prospect of successfully developing "weapons of mass destruction" such as the atomic bomb.
   


9. Concerns have been raised over the treatment of German leaders - with Adolf Hitler's "disappearance" still not satisfactorily accounted for - and over plans for "war crimes trials". Critics allege that the "international tribunal" is likely to administer "victors' justice", and have condemned the refusal to rule out use of the "ultimate penalty".
   


10. Many are still suggesting that the war was unnecessary, and that the policy of containment towards Germany - which, they suggest, had kept the peace in Europe since 1918 - should have been given longer to work.
    

This strongly suggests that Churchill's heavy defeat to Labour in the polls last year was the result of a voter backlash against the invasion of Germany, rather than dissatisfaction with the Conservatives' domestic agenda.

The previous post dealt with inviting people in, to hear God's Word in the Divine Service. But (as pointed out by a contributor to the LQ discussion linked in my previous post) the Divine Service also sends us out:

Thank the Lord and sing his praise;
   tell everyone what he has done.
Let all who seek the Lord rejoice
   and proudly bear his name.
He recalls his promises
   and leads his people forth in joy
   with shouts of thanksgiving.
Alleluia! Alleluia!

The words "proudly bear his name" particularly struck me. It's not about being guilt-tripped into doing lots of "personal evangelism". For me, it would be a start to "proudly bear his name" - to be straightforwardly unashamed to be known as a Christian. The LQ contributor replaced "proudly" with "gladly", but I think "proudly" touches the real issue: are we willing to "boast in the Lord", or are we secretly ashamed of Him?

As baptized people, we already bear the name of God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit. Being embarrassed about that isn't helping anybody. "Tell everyone what he has done ... and proudly bear his name ... with shouts of thanksgiving. Alleluia!".

On the eve of the Euro 2004 football tournament - and one for Bunnie Diehl's Prague god-daughter, perhaps - from Euro 96, here's legendary football commentator John Motson's razor-sharp historico-political analysis of the Czech Republic squad's background:

"The Velvet Revolution between the Czechs and Slovaks doesn't affect the fact most of the Czech Republic's players come from the old Czechoslovakia."

Awesome stuff; it contains multitudes.

How are Lutherans to evangelize? Are there distinctly "Lutheran" methods of spreading the Gospel – particularly for laypeople – or are we solely to make use of methods which derive from other sources, particularly "mainstream" evangelicalism?

This issue has come up on a discussion on LutherQuest on the topic of evangelism. As part of this discussion, Pr William Weedon posted a number of passages from the Book of Concord in support of his view that the primary means of evangelism is the proclamation of the Gospel in Word and Sacrament in the Divine Service, and the principal - though not the only - means of lay evangelism is simply inviting people along (which, as I've argued before, is the truly Lutheran and biblical meaning to the phrase, "Leading people to Christ").

The full list is quite long, so I'm posting it on my long blog. Here are some edited highlights:

So that we may obtain this faith, the ministry of teaching the gospel and administering the sacraments was instituted... AC V

Places, times, persons, and the entire outward order of worship have therefore been instituted and appointed in order that the Word of God may exert its power publicly. Large Catechism, I:94

Therefore in his immeasurable goodness and mercy God provides for the public proclamation of his divine eternal law and of the wondrous counsel of our redemption, the holy gospel of his eternal Son, our only Savior Jesus Christ, which alone can save ... SD II:50

All who want to be saved should listen to this proclamation. For the proclamation and the hearing of God's Word are the Holy Spirit's tools, in, with, and through which he wills to work effectively and convert people to God... SD II:52

[In external matters] people have a free will to a certain extent even after the fall, so that they can go to church and listen or not listen to the sermon. Through these means (the preaching and hearing of his Word), God goes about his work and breaks our hearts and draws people... SD II:53,54

As Pr Weedon goes on to argue:

The REAL task of evangelism ... is INVITATION. It is inviting people to come with you to the Divine Service where the Savior's words, dripping with the Holy Spirit, impart life, forgiveness, the grace of God. "Come and see," to Bartholomew in his skepticism (John 1). "Come and see," the woman to her fellow townspeople (John 4). "Come and see" and then trust the Word of God to do its faith-bestowing task.

He then continues, in a later post:

We are called by our Lord to be a baptizing, teaching community! And that everyone is called upon to be an evangelist - to tell others: "Hey, come to the waters with me! I've found LIFE!!!"

Rev. 22: 17:
The Spirit and the Bride say, "Come!"
And let him who hears say, "Come!"
And let him who is thirsty come;
Let the one who desires take the water of life without price.

There's your evangelism program, all wrapped up in a single verse. It doesn't require changing the historic liturgy. It doesn't require Lutherans dressing up and pretending to be Pentecostals. It just requires Lutherans to be lavishly receiving the gifts of God for them in the Divine Service, to recognize what a treasure and joy they've been given there, and to call others to come and enjoy with them the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living!

Pr Weedon concludes by saying - somewhat redundantly :-) - that he gets "VERY excited about this topic!!!". As well he might, and as we should.

There has been some discussion here before as to whether the Divine Service is an appropriate place for evangelizing non-Christians (see the comments to this post). But the position of the Lutheran Confessions seems clear: there is one Gospel for both Christians and non-Christians, and the Divine Service is a means - indeed, the principal means - for proclaiming that Gospel to Christians and non-Christians alike. We need neither exclude non-Christians from the Divine Service, nor water it down for their "benefit".

Baffled by the workings of the European Parliament? Or just needing something to occupy the long hours before the EU election results are published on Sunday evening? Via the Guardian's Backbencher column comes a link to "the cartoon adventures of Strasbourg's most intrepid MEP, the ravishing Irina Vega", Troubled Waters. "Discover the European Parliament through a thrilling story in your language", promises the opening page.

Sample dialogue: "The plenary today will be crucial. If I don't manage to win Parliament over we'll have missed a wonderful opportunity to use our environmental powers." "Yes, solidarity is the only answer."

For those of you whose internet connections are likely to buckle under the strain of the 10.7Mb download for the full story, there's an EP phrasebook (PDF, 487Kb) to help you understand the intricacies of the Parliament's activities (oddly, there's no entry for "fraudulent travel expenses claim"). This document caused a wave of nostalgia to wash over me, being strangely reminiscent of the "Superheroes Dictionary" I had as a boy, in which the meaning of words was explained using cartoon panels featuring the likes of Superman, Wonder Woman and Captain America ("I need to eat some lunch. But Superdog has eaten my sandwiches already. He ate them yesterday as well" - that sort of thing).

Well, u-- um, can we come up and have a look?
"You have the keen ability to distinguish between African and European swallows" - um, our three-year old has a better grasp of natural history than I, to the constant amusement of my wife and parents-in-law. I know a duck when I see one, though.

What Monty Python Character are you?

That quote about the word, "puritanism", has prompted me to start re-reading CS Lewis's The Screwtape Letters. I can't believe I've been blogging for almost six months without quoting CS Lewis at any length. Well, y'all had better just prepare yourselves for the balance to be redressed over the next few days.

Here's Screwtape in his first letter, advising Wormwood not to rely too much on "argument" as a means of keeping "his man" from becoming a Christian. The modern media have ensured that argument is no longer necessary as means of keeping humans from that particular fate:

Your man has been accustomed, ever since he was a boy, to have a dozen incompatible philosophies dancing about together inside his head. He doesn't think of doctrines as primarily "true" or "false", but as "academic" or "practical", "outworn" or "contemporary", "conventional" or "ruthless". Jargon, not argument, is your best ally in keeping him from the Church. Don't waste time trying to make him think that materialism is true! Make him think it is strong, or stark, or courageous -- that it is the philosophy of the future. That's the sort of thing he cares about.

The trouble about argument is that it moves the whole struggle on to the Enemy's own ground. He can argue too; whereas in really practical propaganda of the kind I am suggesting He has been shown for centuries to be greatly the inferior of Our Father Below. By the very act of arguing, you awake the patient's reason; and once it is awake, who can foresee the result? Even if a particular train of thought can be twisted so as to end in our favour, you will find that you have been strengthening in your patient the fatal habit of attending to universal issues and withdrawing his attention from the stream of immediate sense experiences. Your business is to fix his attention on the stream. Teach him to call it "real life" and don't let him ask what he means by "real".

Another illustration of the power of connotation: investing a particular viewpoint with heroic or admirable characteristics ("strong", "stark", "courageous" - today one might say, "tolerant", "open", "compassionate") as a means of preventing serious reflection or discussion as to whether it is actually true or not.

Once a viewpoint or teaching can so establish itself that even to question its truth is, ipso facto, to expose oneself as "weak" or "cowardly", or - and these words probably have the greater hold over us today - as "intolerant", "narrow", "unloving", etc, then that teaching can carry all before it. This is particularly so in the church, where (for obvious and very good reasons) the charge of being "unloving" hits home with especial force.

This seemed very pertinent to the "modesty" discussion, particularly the discussion over the use of words like "frumpy", "drab" and "prairie muffin" (is that the phrase? Never consciously come across it before). Screwtape gives Wormwood an example of the power of connotations:

The Enemy's servants have been preaching about "the World" as one of the great standard temptations for two thousand years ... But fortunately they have said very little about it for the last few decades. In modern Christian writings, though I see much (indeed more than I like) about Mammon, I see few of the old warnings about Worldly Vanities, the Choice of Friends, and the Value of Time. All that, your patient would probably class as "Puritanism" - and may I remark in passing that the value we have given to that word is one of the really solid triumphs of the last hundred years? By it we rescue annually thousands of humans from temperance, chastity, and sobriety of life.

- CS Lewis, The Screwtape Letters, chapter 10.

Whatever you may think of the Puritans, there's no doubt that CS Lewis is spot-on with how the words like "puritanical" are used in practice, the power these words - or rather, the connotations with which Hell seeks to load them - can have over us.

Perhaps "prairie muffin" is another word that Satan uses to "rescue annually thousands of humans" from modesty of dress. "Fundamentalist" is another goodie, used to rescue millions from faith in the Bible as God's Word. Any other suggestions?

FDN has persuaded me that it is deeply unfair to "take potshots at [sincere Christian sisters] on the basis of the world's standards", and I think the post that was here was guilty of that. So consider it pulled.

However, so that the discussion in the comments makes sense, here's the page from ModestApparelUSA.com that started this all off. Here is Ben Merkle's Credenda Agenda piece in which he bemoans the way in which (in his view) some Christian mothers send out the signal to their daughters that "their only two options are immodest and attractive or modest and frumpy", and here's Nancy Wilson's piece in which (among a lot of other, more objectionable, stuff) she does come up with the unanswerable point that "An immodest 'fashionable' woman has no grounds to make fun of her sisters in jumpers."

But at least the original post diverted people's attention away from the voting Conservative thing for a while...

Today is election day for the London mayor, the European Parliament and the Greater London Assembly, "Super Thursday". A total of five votes to cast - London mayor first choice, London mayor second choice, GLA candidate, GLA party, MEP - under four separate systems of voting. And I still don't know for sure how I'm going to cast any of them.

This is the first time I've had the opportunity to vote since the 2001 General Election. At that time it was simple: as a Labour supporter for the whole of my adult life, I voted Lib Dem as a tactical vote to "keep the Tories out" (to no avail: the Conservative MP retained his seat by 269 votes). I rejoiced when the Conservatives were obliterated in the 1997 election; I danced on their graves in 2001. My only quarrel with New Labour was that it wasn't left-wing enough.

Since then I've experienced a, um, how can I put this, change in assumptions. For reasons I won't bore y'all with, I now find my political preferences lie as follows: smaller government; lower taxes; less regulation, especially of businesses; a moderate, but definite, Euroscepticism (including an implacable opposition to the euro and to the European Constitution); and an antipathy bordering on rage towards Labour's constitutional vandalism, their assaults on ancient freedoms (whether that be jury trials or hunting), and their policy of firehosing money at public services in a way which does nothing but increase the pro-Labour payroll vote stoke public sector inflation (now running at 7%, compared with 1% for the productive part of the economy). In short, I'm pretty estranged from the current government on virtually any issue you care to mention. Except Iraq, and even there I'm sick of the incompetence, manipulation and outright lies that have characterised Labour's approach to the war.

So obviously, the natural party for me now to vote for is, without question, the Con...

"Well, let's not jump to conclusions", as Sir Lancelot would put it. There are two main problems here:

1. Firstly, every fibre of my being revolts at the idea of voting Con... for that party. To put this into context for US readers, this is like a lifelong registered Democrat - one, moreover, whose only objection to Howard Dean would have been his excessive moderation and pandering to right-wing voters - deciding to vote for George W Bush. Whatever the policy considerations, there is an emotional reaction against this "betrayal" of one's earlier convictions. The Billy Bragg song, "Red to Blue", keeps coming to mind (though in my head I keep telling Billy, "Oh, don't be so bl**dy pious about