#238 Andrew Jackson Biography

I just finished Jon Meacham's biography of Andrew Jackson called American Lion which is a detailed account primarily of Jackson's White House years.. I’ve learned a lot. Meacham drives the story along using quotes based on letters and communications. The book is very focused on the interpersonal lives of the members of the White House set against the backdrop of the history occurring outside. But the book interacts with plenty of characters outside including Calhoun, Clay, and Webster, among many others. Meacham comes across, throughout the book as being very sympathetic towards Jackson and subtly opposes his critics.

I’ve come away with an attitude of respectful disagreement with Andrew Jackson. I don’t know that I would have voted for him, but it wouldn’t be for not thinking he was a careful, thoughtful, intelligent man. My issue is with his views executive power. From what I can ascertain, he was really the first in a line that included Lincoln, Teddy Roosevelt, Woodrow Wilson, FDR, Nixon, and Bush that exponentially expanded the role and power of the executive, not least in his broadening of the veto concept from what even Meacham claims was not necessarily what the founders intended. Jackson was far from Bushian however in his defense of the role of the executive. His defense was intelligent and he would have most likely been scandalized by the abuses he unknowingly laid the grounds for. He initiated the concept of a president being given a so-called “mandate” by the people through popular election. That is fine, but there is always the danger of the tyranny of the majority where the rule of 51% trumps individual rights.

Regarding the Bank of the U.S. issue, I went into the book assuming that Jackson opposed the bank on the grounds of free market principles. What I learned was that it was more about politics. Biddle and his connections were using the funds of the bank to play partisan politics, long before Jackson opposed the bank. He may not have opposed the bank if it hadn’t opposed him. Regarding religion, while he appeared to be the first orthodox Christian to hold the office of presidency, he firmly opposed the blending of church and state, as I do, believing that the mixing of the two brings out the worst in both. I also agreed with Jackson on the nullification issue against Calhoun. If you’re going to be party to an agreement, in this case the Union, you must agree to abide by the rules of that union as long as you are in. Leave if you want, through secession, but you can’t have it both ways. That’s my problem with nullification. I think nullification by states was and is unconstitutional. Secession, however disastrous, was and is not strictly unconstitutional.

Finally, the book details two of the biggest black marks on Jackson's presidency, the Indian removal, and his status quo position on slavery. We can of course repeat the standard line that Jackson was simply a product of his times. But then, let's remember, that there were plenty of influential voices, religious and otherwise, who spoke out against both evils; Meacham details these movements succinctly. Jackson just wasn't one of them.

#237 Interesting Links XXVIII

One of the best videos on the debt crisis is posted here.

Gary Burge posts some recommendations for Gospel of John resources.

Will Wilkinson says kill the mortgage interest deduction. I agree. As the total amount owed on a mortgage decreases over time, the tax benefit for the middle class decreases to zero relatively quickly, while the marginal benefit was never that great for the middle class anyway. And that's not even to mention the lower class. Why? Because at a certain point it reaches the level of the standard deduction and is useless.

Milton Friedman makes a fantastic argument in this video about power and who we choose to grant it to.

I've thought for a long time that marriage should be a private matter decided by individuals and their churches. The government should not be involved. That's the idea of this post.

Hannity, with a slip of the tongue, reveals the obvious.

A Christian, and an American, despite it all.

A prescient Edmund Burke against Dick Cheney.

A prescient Thucydides against George Bush.

Much of what passes for Christianity today could be called Moralistic Therapeutic Deism.

#236 Filioque and Rosaries

From Nicene Christianity, ed. Christopher Seitz comes another quote from Thomas Smail's chapter that I thought explained the filioque controversy that began the split between eastern and western Christianity pretty well. Notice the italics.

"Where the creed had originally affirmed that the Spirit had proceeded from the Father, the West, in an excess of anti-Arian zeal, began to confess that he proceeded from the Father and the Son (in Latin, filioque)... The ire of the east was aroused by the willingness of the Bishop of Rome to alter in a unilateral way the wording of a creed that had been formulated by ecumenical council."

Interestingly enough, though this unilateral insertion was first ratified by the Council of Toledo in 589, it was originally resisted by Rome, of all places, but was adopted by the popes after 1,000 when the split became irrevocable. In another chapter, William J. Abraham states that, "If we must resolve this dispute, the contest, in my judgment, goes to the east. The west broke the collegiality of the church by going its own way, especially in the disastrous addition of the filioque clause to the creed."

So both authors come at the ecumenical problem from an ecclesiastical perpsective (duh!) with the key words being unilateral and collegiality in the quotes above. But even coming at the problem from an exegetical (grammatical?) perpsective, Smail shows pretty clearly that technically, the east is right as well. The reason the West did what they did is easily explained by the primary heresy they felt they were up against: Arianism. So it makes sense to insert references to the Son's divinity wherever you can in this context. But the west was (is?) still mistaken both collegially/ecumenically and exegetically/technically.

On a related ecumenical note, what's the difference between saying 10 "Our Fathers" as our hands pass between beads on a necklace and singing 14 "As the Deers" as an evangelical summer camp plays itself out?

#235 Scattershot on the Kingdom

Picking up on the theme of the immanence and transcendence of the kingdom, here is my stream of consciousness. I come at the question of realized vs. unrealized eschatology from a metaphysic that says that to live is to suffer. My conclusion, for now, is that the only way/sense in which the kingdom is realized in the present age is through the actions of believers in their role as agents of the Holy Spirit. But I do not believe that the kingdom becomes any more realized through the accumulation of individual action, i.e. with each individual action or through accumulated collective action. His will has only been done on earth as in heaven in each individual action. We never get temporally closer or further from the kingdom of God with each successive action. We are as close as we can be each time our hearts, minds, tongues, and hands act in accordance with the Spirit, when we walk "in the Spirit."

But at best we can only mitigate suffering, even prevent and eliminate certain forms of suffering to a greater or lesser extent, but never completely eliminate suffering. We can never wipe every tear from our eyes. Thus our mandate: DO justice. God will BRING justice. The kingdom of Heaven/God as a contrast with the Kingdom of the Flesh is not a temporal contrast as has been the popular analogy: Present/Age to Come. It is a contrast of allegiances, and following from that a contrast of ways of existence, a contrast of mindsets, and a contrast of ethics. So this ends up being an argument against an overly-realizable eschatology, which is by definition the end of history. It is an argument for the possibility of a realizable kingdom.

#234 Moltmann Critiques Ratzinger

In the last post, I mentioned the Ratzinger's second encyclical Spe Salvi (Saved in Hope.) I really enjoyed it and thought it was so packed full of quality insights that I took my time to read and understand each sentence. So I did a search to see what others thought and found two critiques from well-known theologians: one from Jurgen Moltmann and one from N.T. Wright.

While both shared a concern for what they perceived as a lack of development within the encyclical of the hope we have for justice "this side of heaven," Moltmann's rhetoric was particularly harsh and bordered on being uncharitable, especially when compared to Wright's usual friendly tone. Moltmann and Ratizinger go way back, all the way to their teaching days at Tubingen in the 1960s. So there's almost certainly a long interpersonal history there of which I'm unaware, let along their theological and political disagreements. Someone who understands what makes Moltmann tick could could critique his critique better than me, but these were my impressions for what they're worth.

Moltmann begins by criticizing the limited scope of the encyclical. Indeed, the encyclical was specifically addressed "To the bishops, priests, and deacons, men and women religious, and all the faithful." In this address, Ratzinger pretty much covers the term "believers" both in and outside of the church. But Moltmann is concerned not only with the address but also that the contents of the letter confirm the limited subject of the address. He says, "It limits Christian hope to the faithful and separates them from those in the world who have no hope." It's true, and I don't think Ratzinger would deny that statement's face value. But he would ask Moltmann to hear him out on the implications for the world of Christian hope.

Related to this point, Moltmann says something so redundant that it can only be interpreted as an attempt to evoke a reaction. He says that the encyclical "subjectively and ecclesially begins with 'us': 'in hope we are saved.'" Imagine that: an encyclical begins ecclesially. Ratzinger's is a message to the church regarding the basis, if not the implications, of it's hope. He would be unapologetic on the addressee of his letter, as he should be.

Moltmann is also very concerned that Ratzinger too readily equates hope with faith. Moltmann seems to see a danger in doing so and I wish he would've fleshed out what exactly this danger is. But instead, he employs the slippery slope argument, writing sentences that don't function as arguments so much as they do scare tactics without support. For example, he says, "With this formulation, the distinctive character of Christian hope falls away." How does it fall away, Jurgen? Flesh this out a bit. He also says, "One wonders why Paul and the entire theological tradition of faith and hope have thus been altered." Now I certainly didn't find anything of the sort it in the connection Ratzinger made between faith and hope. If true, however, and I've missed it, Jurgen needs to illustrate in detail exactly how this is the case, i.e. where Ratzinger specifically goes against specific tradition. Generalizations have their place, but general appeals to tradition must be shown to carry weight in exegetical arguments, rather than just assumed to carry weight.

By the time Moltmann reaches the end of paragraph 5, he has pressed several charges. But hasn't yet made the case for those charges. In paragraph 5, he goes for the jugular:

"What is lacking in the papal writing? What is missing is the gospel of the kingdom of God, the gospel that Jesus himself proclaimed. What is missing is the message of the lordship of the risen Christ over the living and the dead and the entire cosmos that we find in the apostle Paul. What is missing is the 'resurrection of the body and the life of the world to come' as it appears in the creeds. What is missing is the salvation of a groaning creation and the hope of a new earth where justice dwells. In short, what is missing is the hope of the all-encompassing promise of God who is coming: 'See, I am making all things new.' By limiting hope to the blessedness of souls in eternal life, Benedict also leaves out the prophetic promises of the Old Testament. Christian hope then becomes hard to differentiate from a Gnostic religion of salvation."

Now this really gets to the heart of both his and Wright's critique of Spe Salvi. As Wright says, "Benedict’s many fine passages [are] always in danger, despite his warnings, of collapsing back, despite what Benedict intends, into a Christian individualism or even existentialism." Notice the repeated uses of the word "despite" which display Wright's more charitable approach. One of these warnings against subjectivism is found in paragraph 7 of the encyclical, as I pointed out in my last post. Wright seems to feel that warnings are not enough, that hope must be grounded in something more than just the future, that it must also be grounded in the past, specifically in the new-creational hope that has already been given to us through the historic resurrection of the first fruits of that new creation, Jesus Christ, and the subsequent gift of the Holy Spirit. This fits in nicely with Wright's emphasis on the inaugurated eschatology on display in Second Corinthians 5:17: "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!" And Wright has a point. Those in Christ are not waiting to be a new creation, they are a new creation. The old isn't sticking around until the new comes along. The old is already gone. The new has already come. Point taken.

Moltmann's concern is similar, but he doesn't put forward the effort that Wright does in explicating it biblically or theologically. Moltmann instead comes from a political angle and says that Ratzinger's criticisms of man's "faith in progress" and "delusions of grandeur" are behind the times. Moltmann says that, "Because faith in progress was finished off by the catastrophes of both world wars in the 20th century, the papal critique resembles the killing of a corpse." I understand the general zeitgeist of historical thought: that World War I, the Holocaust, and other genocides of the 20th century (not to mention the French Revolution in the 18th century) have taught us all a lesson about the danger of giving the benefit of the doubt to progress as a force only for good. And I understand that this discovery was not made in my lifetime but long before the 20th century came to a close. And I think that Ratzinger understands this as well. But someone forgot to tell me and Ratzinger that faith in progress was completely "finished off." As an academic historical theory, it certainly is done for, but the tendency to put faith in progress is never completely purged from the heart of any individual man and Ratzinger does well to offer an edifying reminder to fellow Christians, whom he is addressing, about forgetting our own depravity and falling into sin. And this is where Moltmann's first critique (about it being a parochial letter) actually backfires against his second critique (about it beating a dead horse.)

To give credit where credit is due, Moltmann insightfully points out what I think is one of the fundamental tensions of modernity. On the one hand, we understand the deficiency of immanent hope; to put this in theological terms, we understand the inadequacy of an overly realized eschatology. This, he says, is the basic lesson of the 20th century. On the other hand, we long for the liberation of the oppressed and desire, in line with the command of God, to work for the rights of the humiliated in the present. He says that his "Theology of Hope" and Liberation Theology grew out of this tension.

In a way, this is a depiction of my personal journey in political philosophy over the course of the last 7 years through what I'll call "charitable liberalism" of the Jim Wallis or Michael Gerson variety which tends toward a realized eschatology, through strict libertarianism of the Frederic Bastiat or Ron Paul style as it relates to the efficacy (read: lack thereof) of government benevolence which eschews any attempt to realize the kingdom of God on earth. Where I am now is at neither extreme. And the exploration of the tension Moltmann highlights is my current state.

I think, overall, what Moltmann is trying to do is to criticize Ratzinger for having an overly futurist eschatology. To no one's surprise, he places Ratzinger in what we would call the right-wing in American politics and since every action has an equal and opposite reaction, he places himself at the same distance to Ratzinger's left. He says in closing, "The God who creates justice for those who suffer violence, the God who has raised up the degraded and crucified Jesus, that is the God of hope for Mary, the prophets and the apostles." In other words, biblical hope is to a large extent a realized hope. That is the point on which Moltmann's is an eminently valuable critique, not just for Ratzinger, but for my libertarian, individualistic, suffering, dejected, yet hopeful self. But I don't think Ratzinger would disagree. Moltmann's rhetoric probably makes their differences seem larger than they are.

#233 Ratzinger Critiques Luther

Paul says in I Corinthians 13:13 that three things remain: faith, hope, and love. But how do these three relate? Specifically how do faith and hope relate?

In paragraph seven of Joey Ratzinger's second encyclical, Spe Salvi (Latin for Saved in Hope), he says that Hebrews 11:1 is essentially saying that faith is hope "in embryo." He draws this conclusion by explaining that the church fathers along with theologians of the middle ages translated the Greek word in Hebrews 11:1, as substantia, or substance in English. In faith, he says, "there are already present in us things that are hoped for." He gets even more specific when says, "...because of the fact that, as an initial and dynamic reality, we carry [hope] within us, a certain perception of it has even now come into existence." That perception he calls faith.

The English reads as follows: Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. The Latin reads like this: Est autem fides sperandarum substantia rerum, argumentum non apparentium. I don't know Latin, but we'll reference back to it in a second because it's helpful nonetheless.

After this brief introduction to his understanding of Hebrews 11:1, he then reports Luther's view on the same verse:

"To Luther, who was not particularly fond of the Letter to the Hebrews, the concept of substance, in the context of his view of faith, meant nothing. For this reason he understood the term hypostasis/substance not in the objective sense (of a reality present within us), but in the subjective sense, as an expression of an interior attitude, and so, naturally, he also had to understand the term argumentum as a disposition of the subject."

After reading that, my mind immediately jumped to the famous essay by Krister Stendahl called "The Apostle Paul and the Introspective Conscience of the West." In it, Stendahl argued that "it was Paul's interpreters, especially St. Augustine and Martin Luther, who read the concept of Paul having a tortured and sin-obsessed conscience from their experience back into the Biblical text, rather than vice-versa." This essay has played a catalytic role in the New Perspective on Paul discussion.

This Lutheran/introspective interpretation became so popular, even in the Catholic church Ratzinger says, that the official German translation approved by the bishops read as follows: "Faith is: standing firm in what one hopes, being convinced of what one does not see." Now that is a subtle shift, but notice how it runs right through Luther, unmistakebly bearing his introspective, subjective viewpoint. If you don't see the subtle shift, go back and read the original English again. Hypostasis, or substantia, or substance, has become "standing firm." Elenchos, argumentum, or evidence, has become being "convinced." Subtle, but monumental. From objective to subjective by way of a barely noticeable wording edit.

Ratzinger is quick to point out that Luther isn't necessarily incorrect. It's just that it's not what the author of the Hebrews actually meant. How both of these can be true is precisely what I tried to point out in my last post, The Point of Apocalyptic. As Ratzinger points out, "...the Greek term used (elenchos) does not have the subjective sense of 'conviction' but the objective sense of 'proof.'" If Joey is right, Martin has missed the boat, subtly, but significantly.

Ratzinger explains how in paragraph 7:

"Faith is not merely a personal reaching out towards things to come that are still totally absent: it gives us something. It gives us even now something of the reality we are waiting for, and this present reality constitutes for us a 'proof' of the things that are still unseen. Faith draws the future into the present, so that it is no longer simply a 'not yet'. The fact that this future exists changes the present; the present is touched by the future reality, and thus the things of the future spill over into those of the present and those of the present into those of the future."

The rest of the encyclical Spe Salvi (Saved in Hope) is essentially a meditation on this paragraph. The best way I can put it into words is this: Faith is the present practice of that which we believe about the future. So to reference my last post again, I do believe that apocalyptic makes a point. The mere fact that the future depicted in Revelation 21 exists changes the present.

#232 The Point of Apocalyptic

I really like the following quote from John Howard Yoder about the point that apocalyptic makes. I found it on Halden Dorge's blog.

“The point that apocalyptic makes is not only that people who wear crowns and who claim to foster justice by the swords are not as strong as they think - true as that is: we still sing, ’O where are Kings and Empires now of old that went and came?’ It is that people who bear crosses are working with the grain of the universe. One does not come to that belief by reducing social process to mechanical and statistical models, nor by winning some of one’s battles for the control of one’s own corner of the fallen world. One comes to it by sharing the life of those who sing about the Resurrection of the slain Lamb.”

– John Howard Yoder, “Armaments and Eschatology.” Studies in Christian Ethics 1:43 (1988): 58.

But I question whether apocalyptic literature is really ever trying to actually make that point, or is that merely a point we can take from apocalyptic. I've had the same thought before regarding typology and preaching. Regarding typology, did historical events ever occur simply as lessons to future generations or are future generations just pressing them into service for what may be perfectly noble and effectual purposes? In other words, was, and/or is, God trying make points by using real people?

Regarding preaching, pastors are understandably under great pressure. They asked to produce an hour long sermon each week, whether they feel inspired or not, in addition to all their other duties. Even so, I've heard countless sermons that seem to use certain biblical stories over and over again to prove a variety of different points that the original authors may or may not have intended. I'm personally not interested in the lessons about interpersonal relationships and personality types that we can draw from the Mary and Martha stories. Admit it, you've heard the Mary and Martha self-help sermons that I'm talking about hundreds of times if you've spent any time in the church.

My point about both of these is simply this: we don't need the Bible to illustrate our points. We need to determine the points that the authors themselves were trying to make. So is Yoder right about the point that apocalyptic makes? I'm genuinely interested in the question and would love to see the Biblical, literary, historical-critical, rhetorical evidence, if it indeed exists. Otherwise, Yoder is guilty of the Mary-and-Marthizing.

The medieval theological academy had a concept of four senses in which we can interpret scripture. There was the literal sense in which the original authors would've intended it. There was the allegorical sense concerning the fulfillment of the Old Testament history in Christ. There was the tropological sense concerning how we should live our lives. And there was the anagogical sense concerning the ultimate end of history. The latter three sense have been grouped together and called the spiritual sense as compared to the literal sense. So it's clear that Yoder clearly has the tropological and anagogical sense in mind at the very least. And that's all well and good if it makes for a nice sermon, forceful argument, or artistic illustration. But it seems to me that the spiritual senses only matter in as much as they are true literally, i.e. that that was the authors original intent for the story. Or when God is acting within a story, the spiritual sense only matters if that is what God literally meant to convey by his action.

Another way my point can be illustrated is in the distinction between usefulness and faithfulness to the text. A given preacher can use a Biblical story to make a point that is faithful to the original actor (God) and the original writer while at the same time being useful for preaching, teaching, and building up. After all, doesn't the Bible say that all Scripture is useful for these kinds of things? But another preacher can use a Biblical story to make a point that while not faithful to the original meaning of God's action or intent of the author, could nonetheless be useful for the point he is trying to convey.

Which preacher is Yoder in the quote above?