Saturday, March 14, 2009

They toil not, neither do they spin

Why does God try to alleviate fear of destitution with lilies? "Oh, you have no money for clothes? Here are some lilies. They toil not." Of course not, they're lilies. We're men. We must toil. The curse--remember? Perhaps the answer is that lilies are one of those parables in which Jesus speaks, a parable unto themselves. Why this beauty? Why this grace? If you see God when you look at lilies, then you'll be okay. God will provide for your needs.

This makes me remember a Monty Python skit where an effeminate prince begins uncontrollably to break into romantic songs in front of his father--I don't think he was clutching lilies, but he could have been. The father shouts him down and proceeds to arrange the sons marriage in order to gain more land, even though the son doesn't want to get married. Python makes caricatures of them both, probably a contrast between hippies and their parents. And the son is totally ridiculous. Yet hippies did have some legitimate concerns, didn't they? It is essential to maintain a sense of wonder at the world, not just wonder at Heaven to come, but at the world, including flowers.

My own mother is quite a gardener. She loves lilacs best. In fact, tomorrow is her birthday. So, happy birthday, Mom! It would be a better world if their were more people like you, people who gape at scenery and see God in all of it! When we've been on vacations together, Mom will plead to have us stop the car so she can carefully frame a picture. And she frequently has to contort herself or sit in the dirt in order to get in some bit of foreground. She has the sense that God just tossed up the canvas before we rounded the turn and it is contagious.

A movie, a simple story, which has that same quality of God being just behind the set, that numinous quality, is Lilies of the Field, with Sidney Poitier (1963). Poitier plays Homer Smith, a Vietnam veteran, a former sergeant, who's heading to California looking for work. And as he's driving across Arizona, he stops in at a run-down place looking for water for his radiator. He's met by five nuns, one of whom believes Smith has been sent by God to build them and the villagers a chapel. She begins to give him orders and to his own consternation, he begins to follow them. He helps them out and stays a little longer and a little longer until, along with the help of other inspired people, the little chapel is built and then the sergeant goes on his way. And that's it, that's the whole movie. Sorry to spoil it for you. I didn't really though. There are many twists and turns and subtleties. In the book it is said that someone paints a picture of the black sergeant, which hangs in the chapel and a bit of a legend springs up about him in the valley. When people ask what saint he was, the nuns will lower their heads and say that he was not a Catholic, but a good man, a Baptist, who was the contractor of the church. He was just a man who stopped long enough to do something truly wonderful, inspired by the mother superior with her harsh exterior, yet tender faith. You leave the movie with the strong feeling, "If only more things like this would happen. If only more people would just listen to God."

Here also is a story about an ethnically and racially diverse community coming together to build something in the face of economic hardships without the involvement of government. In fact, Obama needs to take some time out to learn from Homer Smith and to learn about this phenomenon of Christian volunteerism. Nothing worthwhile can be built without faith in Christ and His Kingdom. And when that faith is exercised, government does not get bigger. There are truly great needs in America at this time. And most people will look to government to meet them, government being to them the only conceivable center of collective action. But there are still a million ways for those with faith to seize this moment as well. It can be our moment just as easily as theirs to build the Kingdom.

Now, this is a sixties movie. Their are some points where you can see the actors trying to act. It's also paced differently than newer movies, but Poitier's performance makes up for all that. He won an academy award for best actor. And as a whole the movie is just refreshing. I've seen a ton of movies, but few will stick in my mind like this one. It succeeds in being truthful without being preachy, sort of like lilies themselves.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Consider the lilies how they grow: they toil not, they spin not; and yet I say unto you, that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. If then God so clothe the grass, which is to day in the field, and to morrow is cast into the oven; how much more will he clothe you, O ye of little faith? And seek not ye what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink, neither be ye of doubtful mind. For all these things do the nations of the world seek after: and your Father knoweth that ye have need of these things. But rather seek ye the kingdom of God; and all these things shall be added unto you (Luke 12:27-31).

Thursday, March 12, 2009

God is good and life is good!

I recently read Nobel Savages: Exposing the Worldview of Pornographers and Their War Against Christian Civilization, by R.J. Rushdoony. It was originally published in 1976 under the title The Politics of Pornography. Everything I've read by Rushdoony is so right on. In fact I found his world history lectures a great resource when teaching at Logos. You also see Doug Wilson all over the place. Or rather you realize he was there before you. In fact, if I were to assemble my American, Twentieth Century spiritual pedigree it would probably go, aside from my preacher grandfather of course, Francis Schaefer, R.J. Rushdoony, Doug Wilson. Those are my spiritual fathers.

The basic argument of the book is that looking at porn is an essentially religious activity. That is, people who succumb to it are engaged in a false religion and worshiping a false god. Pretty serious words. Having denied the One God and everything supernatural, modern materialists are left with nothing to provoke or inspire them except the primal drives, what Freud called the id. And so men being what they are, religious beings, who live not by bread alone, they begin to place their faith in those drives as the source of their vitality, when in fact, because the universe is governed by God's immutable law, this leads surely to death. Of course it is not sexual appetite, or any desire for that mater, which is the problem, but serving a particular desire with disregard to God's law.

I was struck by the truth that pornography is essentially a ritual, one among many perverse rituals, of the modernist religion. And that is why, for example, homosexuals are held in such high esteem. They are treated as a priestly caste which to denounce is to be guilty of blasphemy, conveniently called "hate speech."

And the frightening thing is that American Christians sit idly by, consuming much of the same filth as everyone else in our Philistine culture. We don't want to be prudes. But the point is that it's not just "filth," although it is that. It's propaganda. And how can we fight it if we don't speak about it. Men, speak up!

One thing I hope to never forget from this book is Rushdoony's description of two men, one who had not succumbed to this false religion and one that had:

Men in every age are largely shaped by the ideas that govern them and command their imagination. Men judge themselves by the standards of their day, and by its ideas of what constitutes life. Their faith has much to do with making life livable. An elderly immigrant, speaking limited English, was used to the patriarchal power common in the old country to the oldest man in a family. As that oldest man, the authority of the family was in his hands. Although bedridden for several years before his death, he ate with zest, ordered his family about with assurance, and, smacking his lips, raised with pride and pleasure his wine glass together with the assembled family, declaring, "God is good and life is good!" This immigrant's image of life and man was patriarchal and familistic, and he enjoyed it, despite his invalidism. In contrast, when a very much younger man, totally modern in outlook, found himself impotent, although otherwise healthy, he committed suicide (82).
In this example, to make the point most strongly, the one man is old and the other young; however, age doesn't really mater. There are men of all ages who whine and moan about the slightest hardships because they've succumbed to false ideas and inevitably false habits. To those men there is only one thing that can be said, if they can still hear it: repent or perish!

By the way, I'm proud to say that I use Covenant Eyes accountability software on my computer and I would recommend it to anyone. I now know several men I respect who use this service. It costs $8 per month, but it's well worth it to know that porn is not an option when you're online and its a much better service than the free programs.