20 December 2013
Lust, Part 2
10:41 AM
Desert Spirituality
for Reformed People (16)
You greatly delude
yourself...if you think that one thing is demanded from the layman and another
from the monk.... Because all must rise to the same height.... ~ St. John
Chrysostom
When I was a child, I wasn't allowed to watch much
television, virtually none at all on school nights during the school year, and
an hour or two in the evenings during holidays—certainly not as much as my
friends watched. If the television wasn't already turned on when they arrived
home from school, it was turned on almost immediately afterwards. It wasn't
that my parents thought television was evil. It was more that they hadn't grown
up with it; and when television arrived only the relatively well-off had it. My
parents just thought I had more important things to do than sit mindlessly and
passively in front of a television set. Consequently, my friends often looked
at me like a foreigner because I hadn't seen the programs they had done.
As a result of that early experience I've never really been
much of a television viewer. To this day, I really don't watch much television;
and if the television is on so is my DVD player. I don’t have cable or dish,
and there are only about five broadcast shows I follow with any regularity; and
even then, I don't pay much attention, because I'm usually reading, the
television serving mostly as background noise.
What always strikes me on the rare occasions when I come
across TV shows that I don't follow is the extent to which sexuality has come
to dominate the airwaves. No shocker there. Lust has always been popular and
found expression in the arts. Promotion of illicit sexuality on television is
nothing new, at least not in my experience. I would say the illicit sexuality
on television in my youth was tame by comparison with today. For example, I
recall an episode of the series, “Hunter”, in which a woman, dealing with the
shock of the loss of a loved one, informs Rick Hunter, standing outside the
door of his home, that she “needs to be with someone”. They go inside and the
door is closed; the viewer, it's assumed, needs no further exposition. Things
are a bit different today. Clueless viewers require further exposition.
There were limitations on what is acceptable and what is
not. Now, it seems as if the writers of television shows have no idea how to
write a story if they cannot parade, glorify and normalize illicit sexuality—and
as much of it as possible. Every program seems driven to push the boundary
further and further. This trend, not surprisingly, culminated in a series
entirely devoted to normalized illicit sexuality: “Sex and the City”. (Movies,
of course, were gone long before that, beginning, in my viewing experience,
with “Animal House”.)
Of course, sexuality on television and in movies isn't just
there. We are not assaulted with mere images of illicit sexuality. In those
images, we are also presented with a
message of sorts, a set of attitudes regarding sexuality. Illicit sexuality
is virtuous, or even morally neutral, except maybe for adultery (depending upon
whether the viewer likes the one being cheated on). Being virtuous or neutral,
the open display and normalization of illicit sexuality is entirely
understandable. People who engage in it are morally outstanding people, who
genuinely care about their multiple partners, and are engaging in responsible,
mature, adult behavior. To complain, or not be all for it (that is, to be a
prude) is a vice. Now-days, chastity, not lust, is the vice. It's unhealthy. At
a certain point, we just need to be “taken”.
Naturally, in this day and age, one doesn't have to own a
television to get caught up in these messages. Advertising, fashion, music—all
of these things conspire together to assault us in just the same way as television
and movies. (If not for sexuality, Carl’s, Jr. wouldn’t be able to sell a
hamburger.) Wherever our eyes and ears are, there, it seems Lust, like a lion,
is lying in wait, its desire, to devour us.
The society in which we live, obviously isn’t bothered by it
much, but it is a serious matter for Christians. At times, I think Christians
are becoming numb to the sexual illness by which we are surrounded, so numb, in
fact, I doubt very many understand the extent to which we are surrounded, or
even consider the fact that we are unable to convert the culture because the
culture has converted us. Even if we do not—yet—engage in the same activities
(except perhaps in our attire), we are being sucked into the current, and
opening up ourselves to powerful temptations. We may be subjecting ourselves to
far too many harmful images and ideas, all the while insisting either that (a)
there is nothing to worry about (and those who insist otherwise are prudes who
need to read Song of Solomon) or (b)
we can handle it because, after all, we are adults. St Paul, on the other hand,
teaches us such enticements are sinful and we should run from them. As he
explains, “Every sin that a man does is outside the body, but he who commits
sexual immorality sins against his own body” (1 Corinthians 6.18). Not only
does it appear many of us are not running away, and, consequently, falling in
the face of temptations, but actually embracing these temptations, seeking them
out, and yielding to them, committing the same acts as the world, which I
mentioned in Part 1.
How does one sin against his own body? Sex intimately
engages our bodies and looses our emotions and our minds. Something very
powerful is released when two people expose themselves to each other in the way
they do in sexual intercourse, risking everything they are. For what purpose do
we seek to release that power? Yes, of course, there is pleasure involved, but is
that alone the explanation? The required explanation will have to tell us not
only why we engage in it, but why it is such a unique sin.
Answering the question, why we seek to release the power of
sex, will show us why sexual sin, in which so many proudly participate, is the
ultimate transgression, the one St Paul tells us to avoid.
To understand sexual sin, as indeed with most elements of
Christian theology, we have to consider the opening chapters of Genesis, where
we read that when Adam and Eve ate the fruit of the tree from which they were
forbidden to eat, “Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they knew
that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves
loin coverings” (Gen. 3.7).
What was it about this disobedience which made them feel
exposed to each other? We should recall that God's purposes in creating was to
make us one with him, to have us live in unity with him and each other in the
same way as the members of the Holy Trinity live with each other. Union with
God, fellowship with Him, is a connective theme in all Christian theology. As
John Murray writes, in Redemption
Accomplished and Applied:
“[Union with Christ] is an important aspect of
the application of redemption and, if we did not take account of it, not only
would our presentation of the application of redemption be defective but our
view of the Christian life would be gravely distorted. Nothing is more central
or basic than union and communion with Christ” (161).
All explanations of spiritual matters are grounded in this
truth.
Union with God also helps us understand why sexual immorality
is the most regrettable sin. It is clear that before they exalted their own
wills above God's and attempted to seize control of their lives, Adam and Eve
walked with God, living with Him, as we might say, “in the heavenly places”
(see Eph. 2.6). God had created them in His image, endowing them with every
faculty they required to grow into unity with Him, with each other and even all
creation (over which He had given them dominion).
Think about how Adam must have seen Eve when he first laid
his eyes upon her. He looks at her and says, “This is now bone of my bones, and
flesh of my flesh....” At that moment in history they are living in intimate
fellowship with God. That fact has to be taken into account, or we will think
Adam is simply emoting, rather than saying something of ontological import.
Adam is saying something about the way he truly sees Eve: as an extension (in
the best sense) of himself. She is not, like he is, made directly from dust. She
is fashioned from one of his ribs. She is something of a clone. And as bone of
his bones and flesh of his flesh, she is truly him—and vice versa.
But since this awareness is possible only in the life of
fellowship with God, it also means that something of cosmological import
transpires at their rebellion, an insight I believe is lost on us due to the
inroads of anti-supernaturalism and anti-mysticism. Their perception of oneness
and unity with each other; their perception of being extensions of each other—these
were lost in the Fall. And they were lost because they were the result of unity
with God. When they broke that fellowship, they lost the source of their intimacy
with each other. This is all the more tragic when we contemplate that they must
surely have thought all would continue as it had done previously, as if God
were incidental to it all. Life, they must have thought, would be the same, but
without God as their sovereign. They would be equal to him in power, wisdom,
knowledge and glory. They too, in short, would be gods. They may even have
thought that by eating the fruit and, as the serpent said, becoming like God,
they would thus be brought into more intimate fellowship with God. But one does
not become closer to God by disobeying him.
They did not merely feel
the loss of communion and intimate fellowship with each other, with God and
with creation. One can truly say that they saw it, as well. They knew, or
experienced, shame in their nakedness. Previously, as bone of his bones and
flesh of his flesh, when Eve felt Adam's eyes upon her, it was like looking at
herself. But now, he looks upon her and instead of seeing himself in her,
instead of seeing his bones and his flesh, he sees an object, removed and
distant from him, perhaps even a stranger, unknown and unknowable to him, at
least not knowable the way she had been previously. Each now feels alone. I
doubt we can comprehend all they must have felt at that moment. All they did,
physically, was eat a bit of fruit, and the cosmos changed. And the cosmos
changed because their relationship to it, through God, had changed.
Sin results in disintegration, as God looses the life-giving
and preserving bond between himself and his image-bearers, which further
results in a rift between them and the creation over which they have dominion.
Life ceases and they begin to die. Again, they surely must have thought life, including
the nature of their fellowship together, would continue unchanged, but without
the necessity of obedience to God. Oh, he would still be around, of course, but
they would be like him. Knowing good and evil, they would be, as St Peter would
put it thousands of years later, "partakers of the divine nature" (2
Peter 1.4), without having to be in union with God. They could not have been more
mistaken. Even the ground, which once brought forth fruit and vegetation
without the slightest effort on Adam's part, would produce only "thistles
and thorns" without tremendous sweat-producing labor, with no real
assurance that even the sweat of his brow would yield anything at all.
And so, after their rebellious act, they begin to die,
eventually to return to the dust which God had animated. They had been created
for the purpose of being one with God (on His terms), who had filled their
beings; but now He has withdrawn from them. Their meaning; their purpose; their
source of life--all are gone. All that is left to them for fulfillment, for
filling up the emptiness of a space once occupied by God, is a world of
objects. Once, Adam looked to God for sustenance; now he must look to plants
growing in the ground, waging war against thorn and thistle. Eve once looked to
God for the fulfillment of her desires, now she must look to Adam who, though
the very source of her being, has become a stranger to her.
Of course, God did not leave them in that condition. Union
with God has been maintained, in types and shadows, through covenants. Now there
is still the possibility of a fuller expression of union with God, here and now,
through Jesus Christ, by the mediating power of the Holy Spirit (see WCF 21).
And we should be grateful to Him for that.
For those who choose to live without God, there remains only
the cold world of objects, and the attempt to achieve union with those objects
through various
idolatries. Their only hope of union is a distorted form of what God
desires for man. So when such men and women look upon each other, they do not
see one with whom they can achieve spiritual union and divine oneness. There is
only an object they can use to bring momentary pleasure to the emptiness; or
they become and permit themselves to be objects, used to bring momentary
pleasure to another. (Recall Fincher's acknowledged objectification of
"the beautiful body" before her, which I mentioned in Part 1.)
Sexual immorality is the ultimate perversion of God's
intention for man. In the sexual act, two human beings completely expose
themselves to each other, body and soul, in an act which is intended to be part
of a relation which is a “type” of the relation between Christ and his Church
(see Ephesians 5.22-32). In the intended (marital) relationship between a man
and a woman, two people travel a “sacred” path toward spiritual growth in the
kingdom of God which, through trust, self-denial, and openness, will lead to
oneness. Both risk everything they are and have been until their union in
marriage, each for the sake of the other; each one sees the needs and the
desires of the other as paramount.
Those who commit sexual sins take the same risks; but they
do so for their own purposes:
personal pleasure and fulfillment of their own intentions, rather than the
fulfillment of God's intentions. They turn a potentially unifying (and
self-denying) act into self-gratification. (One should admit that this is
something most humans do with most things, including professing Christians,
mostly as the result of shoddy teaching and preaching, by shoddy teachers and
preachers.) People in such relationships, to the extent they have
relationships, will talk about their commitment to one another, but until their
minds are joined together in the single-minded pursuit of the kingdom of God,
their commitment can only be to their individual sexual gratification. And when
that is over, so is the commitment.
Of course, this happens to Christians as well. We know that
God has redeemed us and set us free from self-love. We may acknowledge that we
are no longer slaves, relating to other people as to objects. But the allure of
sexual sin is so strong because the physical union of bodies is a successful
counterfeit of true oneness. It grips and claws at us because it promises to
fulfill a very legitimate desire, the desire for union with another. As a union
of two bodies, which union in marriage is a type of our union with God, sexual
union is an act of worship, but by virtue of taking place outside the bond of
matrimony, it is an act of idolatry. In the idolatrous act, the “typical”
nature of the marital union is denied and the participants both idolize each
other’s bodies (in the truest sense of the term) and in turn present their
bodies as objects of worship, used for pleasure, thus sinning against their own
bodies.
With the “scene” thus set, we are now prepared to look at
solutions suggested by the desert fathers in comparison with Reformation
thought.
Desert Theology for Reformed People, Part 15
Desert Theology for Reformed People, Part 15
08 November 2013
Lust, Part 1
10:25 AM
Desert Spirituality
for Reformed People (15)
You greatly delude
yourself...if you think that one thing is demanded from the layman and another
from the monk.... Because all must rise to the same height.... ~ St. John
Chrysostom
As I said last time
monks did not struggle with lust as much as we might think; for them the
problem was anger. It's probably difficult to believe, given the circumstances,
that lust would not be a big problem in such an environment, especially for
men. But, especially during the time period and geographical locale I have
foremost in mind (i.e., the first millennium in the middle eastern deserts),
the living conditions of the sort of men and women we're talking about were
quite severe.
Calvin, who otherwise has little praise for the monastic
life, and writing about these men and women, describes something of these
conditions (in his Institutes, Bk iv,
ch xiii, 8, emphasis added):
[L]est any one defend the monachism of
the present day on the ground of the long prescription, it is to be observed,
that the ancient mode of living in monasteries was very different. The persons
who retired to them were those who wished to train themselves to the greatest austerity
and patience. The discipline practiced by the monks then resembled that which
the [Spartans] are said to have used under the laws of Lycurgus, and was even much more rigorous. They
slept on the ground, their drink was water, their food bread, herbs, and roots,
their chief luxuries oil and pulse. From more delicate food and care of the
body they abstained. These things might seem hyperbolical were they not vouched
by experienced eye witnesses, as Gregory Nazianzen, Basil, and Chrysostom. By
such rudimentary training they prepared themselves for greater offices. For of
the fact that monastic colleges were then a kind of seminaries of the
ecclesiastical order, both those whom we lately named are very competent
witnesses (they were all brought up in monasteries, and thence called to the
episcopal office), as well as several other great and excellent men of their
age.
A discipline more rigorous than the Spartans'. That is
saying something.
But what have harsh conditions to do with sexuality and
lust?
Reflecting upon the experience and effects of hunger, in a
concentration camp, Viktor Frankl, in his Man's
Search for Meaning (52) writes:
Undernourishment...probably...explains
the fact that the sexual urge was generally absent. Apart from the initial effects
of shock, this appears to be the only explanation of a phenomenon which a
psychologist was bound to observe in those all-male camps: that, as opposed to
all other strictly male establishments—such as army barracks—there was little
sexual perversion. Even in his dreams the prisoner did not seem to concern
himself with sex, although his frustrated emotions and his finer, higher
feelings did find definite expression in them.
“Generally absent” may describe the sexual urge in harsh
conditions, especially those of a middle eastern desert monastery or a Nazi
concentration camp; but in the relatively easy, pleasure-filled life most of us
live, “generally absent” is not an applicable term. In a society, such as ours,
in which sex can sell anything, including hamburgers, the more appropriate term
for describing the sexual urge is “central preoccupation”. If, as C. S. Lewis
observed in Mere Christianity,
“Chastity is the most unpopular of the Christian virtues,” then lust is the
most popular passion. And so it seems to be.
In a culture as materialistic as our own (in the
philosophical sense), bodily pleasures seem as close to a spiritual (or even
mystical) experience as one may ever get. For materialists, spiritual unions
being out of the question, union of one body with another is virtually a
religious experience. Sensuality is religious experience. And sexual
intercourse is an act of worship.
Of course, in dealing with lust we really need to know what
it is, and what it isn't. I'll say more in a subsequent post, but for now, it
would be a mistake to understand lust as simple sexual desire. If we make that
error we will not deal with it effectively, because we will not see it for the
sort of problem it is. After all, without sexual desire, the human race
would go extinct. Moreover, sexual desire per
se is never treated in Scripture as a sin. The most famous source for this
understanding is, of course, The Song of
Songs. What is treated as sin is sexual intercourse outside the bounds of
matrimony and the desire for intercourse outside those bounds.
We are concerned here with lust as the sexual desire for someone
other than one’s spouse. And I don’t think we'd be mistaken to say not only is
it sexual desire for another to whom one is not married, but sexual desire for
another whom one has no desire to marry.
In a word, a desire to copulate and be done. (And we have so many colorful ways
of putting that.)
Our sexual appetite, says Lewis, “is in ludicrous and
preposterous excess of its function.” He continues, saying:
You can get a large audience together
for a strip-tease act—that is, to watch a girl undress on the stage. Now
suppose you came to a country where you could fill a theatre by simply bringing
a covered plate on to the stage and then slowly lifting the cover so as to let
every one see, just before the lights went out, that it contained a mutton chop
or a bit of bacon, would you not think that in that country something had gone
wrong with the appetite for food? And would not anyone who had grown up in a
different world think there was something equally queer about the state of the
sex instinct among us? (Mere Christianity,
p. 89)
Lewis goes on to consider the possibility that such a show
would be evidence of famine, concluding that the hypothesis is easily tested by
seeing if in fact people are starving. Clearly, we are not experiencing a
famine of sex. We’re having lot’s of sex—everything from friends-with-benefits
to spouse-swapping, hotwifing and cuckolding, and, of course, good, old
fashioned, heart-breaking adultery. Yes, we’re having lots of sex. We’re
starting earlier and earlier, and stopping later and later. And we’re having it
for
at least 237 reasons having little or nothing to do with marriage, love or
even the least bit of affection and much, much less for the desire of children.
Now, what is the problem with lust? The way some approach
the subject, while it is a problem, it really isn't much of a problem, certainly not a deadly problem, a “prelude” to a
problem, perhaps. And to the extent it is acknowledged as a problem, it isn't
very clear what the problem really is. For example, Jonalyn Fincher, in a Christianity Today article, "Confessions
of a Lustful Christian Woman", writes:
I am one of those women who have found
myself struggling with lust. I am not addicted to pornography, but I am
distracted to lust after handsome…men.
When a beautiful man or woman passes me
and my husband on the street or monopolizes our time after a speaking event we
both code awareness to each other. We use our eyes to say, "Yes, this is a
beautiful body in front of me, but no worries. My appetite has been cultivated
for you."
This discipline didn't start so easily.
I've learned to want my husband's
frame, his uniqueness. I've learned to seek that look, to develop a taste for
his body and soul.
But I still notice beauty, in men.
Talking about the beautiful people
around us allows my husband and I to both safely confess and grow into desiring
each other. It also means our temptations are never faced alone.
I have no intention of denigrating this, but frankly I think
this treats lust as a difficulty to be managed or, as she put it, a distraction,
rather than a danger needing to be assaulted. (We are talking about “evil
thoughts” or “deadly sins”, after all.) The closest Fincher comes to
acknowledging lust as a danger is to intimate its possibly leading to sexual
addiction. The inevitability of lust seems a foregone conclusion. We can't help
it; we can't stop it. We will always lust. We just need to manage it. We'll
just have to talk about it and confess it. Not entirely bad advice, of course;
it is better than mounting no resistance whatsoever. But even that much does
not treat lust as something dangerous, even deadly.
In another
article on the same subject, and in which she treats lust as a danger, she tells
of lunching with a friend and during the course of the meal, lusting after a
stranger in the restaurant, attempting to catch his eye, distract him and
“check him out a lot more” but not, naturally, “to tell him about Jesus.” She
writes:
Typically in situations like these, my
first response is some serious reining in and self-talk. Something like,
“Jonalyn, that’s wrong. God doesn’t want you to think of him like that, stop it
right now.” You know the ol’ accountability line.
But...I steered around my blamey self
talk and prayed instead, “Jesus, I invite you into my lust.”
And I went back to my conversation with
my friend.
Note her use of two phrases: “the ol’ accountability line” and
“my blamey self talk”. Frankly, this is not someone who is takes her lust very
seriously. Not as seriously as the desert theologians would have us do. For
those of us who are reformed, not as seriously as the Westminster divines would
have us do. (See the Westminster Larger Catechism, Questions 137 through 139.)
Would Fincher be as dismissive of murderous thoughts? What
she tells us of herself here is that she sits in a restaurant, trying to get
another man’s attention for purposes of signaling to him her sexual desire for
him, and (if she were brutally honest with herself) her sexual availability. Not,
of course, that she’d really ever do it, only attempt to communicate, even if
non-verbally, that she’d like to do it.
That said, Fincher does identify a weakness of standard
“accountability guidelines”. In the same article, she goes on, offering a
different approach:
Often, accountability guidelines for
ending lust focus on guarding our eyes from even looking or noticing beauty.
But this feels Gnostic to me, a method of denying the inherit [sic] beauty in
healthy men (and women’s) bodies. I want to be free to notice beautiful men and
I want Dale free to notice beautiful women. This allows me to thank God for his
creativity.
[***]
Neither Dale nor I have stunning gams,
but we love noticing others who do. And in the process, my lust isn’t incited.
I’m observing the art of God around me and sharing it with my husband. God
called us very good. I’d have to agree.
If we find our admiration turning into
covetousness, I’d recommend this relational approach of inviting Jesus into the
moment. Asking for Jesus to abide in us reminds me of Jesus’ words, “Watch and
pray so that you will not enter into temptation” (Matthew 26:41).
No matter where you struggle with lust,
invite Jesus to abide in you. Jesus is stronger than I’ve been or any other
method I’ve tried.
Perhaps it is fine that we take notice of those—male and
female—who have stunning gams; and maybe we truly are merely “observing the art
of God around [us].” But then, maybe not. It is true, God called us very good,
but in doing our theology we should take note that this pronouncement was made
before we died in Adam. We might also note that immediately after their eyes
were opened, Adam and Eve's first inclination was to cover up. (More about that
in Part 2.) We, on the other hand, can't wait to uncover, or for others to
uncover, if not entirely, certainly as much as we can get away with doing. The
life we live now is a life of redemption. True, we are redeemed; but we have
not been transfigured just yet. Having raised that point, however, it is
certainly true that inviting Jesus into the moment is the right answer. And, in fact, by virtue of our union with him,
he is always with us so all we really have to do is not invite him into the
moment, but rather acknowledge his ever-presence and look to him in that
moment.
However innocent Fincher’s “noticing” of God’s creativity,
this notice still involves objectifying someone and treating them as existing
to gratify the senses. Eye candy. Call it “art” if you will, but that changes
nothing. Pornography is called “art”. “A rose by any other name” and all that.
As we’ll see in a subsequent post, this objectification is part and parcel of
our lust problem. In fact, without this objectification (something we are more
practiced in doing than we might know) there could be no lust problem. (Yes,
you read that correctly.)
Fincher's approach here (an attempt to avoid what she thinks
is Gnosticism), in comparison with the desert fathers', is a palliative instead
of a cure, skirmishing and holding ground rather than attacking and conquering.
And this is because she mis-diagnoses the condition, and that, in turn, is because she is trying to avoid “blamey self
talk”, something we should most definitely not
avoid when we truly are blame-worthy, or even if we merely think we might be blame-worthy. Lust, as she is
treating it, is really more of a “pain” to be managed, rather than an evil,
deadly passion (or sin) needing to be destroyed, or a disease to be cured. The
fact is, her method, while there certainly is nothing wrong with it, as far as it goes, falls short of what
we need to do, which is to put to death the deeds of our bodies (Romans 8.13),
including lust. Fincher will have us keep our lust very much alive, but just
give it a new name and put it on a hopefully stronger chain. Would she be as relatively
careless about murderous thoughts? I suspect not.
The real problem is not the iterative and occasional
struggle with lust such as Fincher describes. The real problem is that we
imbibe a great deal of what Western, specifically American culture dishes out.
We watch many of the same television shows as non-Christian America. We see
many of the same movies as non-Christian America. We listen to much of the same
music as non-Christian America. Much of that media contains some form of
sexuality. Like high fructose corn syrup, it’s in just about everything. Possibly
then we have therefore the same pre-occupation with sensuality and sexuality as
non-Christian America, even if we are not always conscious of it. It can be to
us just as much a passion as for any other American, as Fincher demonstrates.
Sexuality has been normalized; and this normalization is a problem.
If an approach like Fincher’s can be characterized as really
more like pain management or holding, then desert theology, in contrast, seeks
cure or conquest. Fincher would have us play defense; desert theology would
have us take the offensive. For example, John Climacus wrote:
He who has piously destroyed within him
the three passions [of gluttony, cupidity and vainglory] has destroyed the five
[of lust, anger, despair, despondency, and pride] too; but he who has been
negligent about the former will not conquer even one passion. (The Ladder of Divine Ascent, 26, 2)
We now come to the question, How then do the desert
theologians counsel dealing with lust?
Before we can really answer that question, however, we need
to spend some time reflecting upon a “theology of lust”. Sexual sin, as we’ll
see, is unique and requires some analysis.
31 January 2013
10:28 AM
Little-known secret: Many (if not most) intellectuals are not lovers of freedom, especially if they live off or otherwise benefit from government largess; so this, while interesting, is really no surprise. Those intellectuals who really are crazy about liberty are usually something else first, and intellectuals second...or third. Hans-Herman Hoppe suggests that the freedom-loving intellectual should really be called (I love this part) "an anti-intellectual intellectual".
And you haven't lived until you've read Hegel's transposition of the need for freedom of thought into a requirement that it be "protected" (I love it when they talk like that) by the state. (That's in his PHILOSOPHY OF LAW, section 270. Enjoy--or not.) I'm certain, it's one of those collective-action-to-protect-individual-liberty kind of things.
30 November 2012
Anger
7:23 AM
Desert Spirituality
for Reformed People (14)
You greatly delude
yourself...if you think that one thing is demanded from the layman and another
from the monk.... Because all must rise to the same height.... ~ St. John
Chrysostom
We might be inclined to think that, of all the passions,
monks struggled the most with lust. We know very well that some did, but the
passion with which they struggled the most was actually anger; and the desert
fathers knew that anger can develop into more serious sins, putting up barriers
between ourselves and others.
In the fourth century, Evagrius of Pontus delineated what he
called the eight dangerous thoughts: gluttony, fornication, love of money,
sadness, anger, listlessness, vainglory and pride. With some modifications,
these become known as the seven deadly sins: lechery/lust, gluttony,
avarice/greed, acedia/discouragement/sloth, wrath, envy, and pride. Evagrios
did not use the word sins, but rather thoughts. Evagrios said, "It does
not lie within our power to decide whether or not the passions are going to
harass and attack the soul. But it does lie within our power to prevent
impassioned thoughts from lingering within us and arousing the passions to
action" (here).
On the particular subject of anger, Evagrios thought it to
be the worst passion of them all. It is the response to resistance or
interference with goals and intentions, or to fear, irritations and
disappointments. It's the response we may have when we are busy and someone
interrupts us. It's the response we have when we are driving and either are cut
off, or impeded in our progress by the driver in front of us driving slower
than we are (even when we're trying to drive the speed limit). It's the
response we have when our internet connection is slower than usual, or if we
lose the connection altogether because our modem suddenly fried or died. In
each of these, and similar, cases we are responded to an obstacle.
At its most fundamental level, anger is the desire that some
harm come to the person or object thwarting us, whether or not we desire to
commit the harm ourselves. It also exults in seeing harm come to those who, we
believe, have stymied us. For example, when the bottom fell out of the economy,
I read in the comments to a news article, one commentator express glee that
rich people were losing money and going bankrupt because they needed to know how
it feels to be poor. Why? Because simply by being rich these people had
committed some harm to others, especially, one supposes, the commentator—and
his fans.
According to some psychologists, anger
is rooted in childhood insecurity. Easily angered people don't always yell,
curse and throw things. Sometimes they withdraw, sulk, or become physically
ill. Anger may be more responsible for most of our sins than we may imagine,
even our sexual sins. I recall glancing through a book in a bookstore, a book
about marriage and divorce, in which the author made the claim that all
adultery is rooted in anger. There are probably many
explanations for it but I suspect there is much truth in that. Many
adulterers have been hurt (or perceive themselves as having been hurt) by their
spouses. Adultery can very easily be understood as rooted in anger, since anger
itself is rooted in pain.
The Westminster Divines were not unaware of the spiritual
necessity of harnessing and resisting the passions. In its teaching on the
implied duties and prohibitions involved in obeying God in the Ten
Commandments, The Larger Catechism includes acts intended to confront and
restrain the passions. For example, the duties required in the sixth
commandment's prohibition of murder are "all careful studies, and lawful
endeavors, to preserve the life of ourselves and others by resisting all
thoughts and purposes, subduing all passions, and avoiding all occasions,
temptations, and practices, which tend to the unjust taking away the life of
any; by just defense thereof against violence, patient bearing of the hand of
God, quietness of mind, cheerfulness of spirit; a sober use of meat, drink,
physic, sleep, labor, and recreations; by charitable thoughts, love,
compassion, meekness, gentleness, kindness; peaceable, mild and courteous
speeches and behavior; forbearance, readiness to be reconciled, patient bearing
and forgiving of injuries, and requiting good for evil; comforting and
succoring the distressed, and protecting and defending the innocent."
Note among many of the duties, some of which seem to be
unrelated to the commission of murder: "quietness of mind, cheerfulness of
spirit; a sober use of meat, drink, physic, sleep, labor, and recreations."
We might easily see how having a quiet mind and a cheerful disposition are
related, since these dispositions are the opposite of anger, without which
there can be no murder. But "a sober use of meat, drink, physic, sleep,
labor, and recreations"? What about these? The truth is immoderate use of
these things (food and drink, medicines, sleep, labor and recreations) is a
life filled with "surfeiting", or dissipation and drunkenness, a life
of indulging the passions, which the Lord forbids, rather than a life of
alertness and prayer, which the Lord requires (Luke 21.34-36):
Be on guard, so that your hearts will not be weighted down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of life, and that day will not come on you suddenly like a trap; for it will come upon all those who dwell on the face of all the earth. But keep on the alert at all times, praying that you may have strength to escape all these things that are about to take place, and to stand before the Son of Man.
It is not that we are forbidden to have pleasures. Even John
Calvin, falsely-accused killjoy recognized that Scripture nowhere forbids us “to
laugh, or to be full, or to add new to old and hereditary possessions, or to be
delighted with music, or to drink wine” (Institutes
of the Christian Religion, 3.19.9). But, as he goes on, in the same place,
to say, “ [L]et all remember that the nourishment which God gives is for life,
not luxury....” The Christian life is, among other things, a life of alertness.
But what can we do about anger? Recall that anger is our
response to resistance, or injury— even perceived
resistance and injury. It is also a response to some deprivation or, again, perceived deprivation of pleasure or
need (even, yet again, perceived
need). We must deal with it as a response,
more specifically as a learned, habitual response.
The monks employed several strategies in their battles
against this emotion. First, we shouldn't be surprised to find anger lurking within
our souls; we shouldn't be discouraged or despondent about it, either. We are
fallen; our feelings do get hurt. We are also creatures of habit. It is
dangerous not to admit this. If we don't admit that we can be hurt, we are
likely not to realize that we have been hurt and, as a result, not very likely
to recognize even the potential for finding anger within us, much less the
reality. It was common for monks to believe they were, or should have been,
above being angered. The wisest of the monastics knew better than to think
monks were not like everyone else. As I have quoted St Chrysostom, both layman
and monk "must rise to the same height." The monk, simply by being a
monk, has arrived nowhere.
Second, when we do find anger, we have to deal with it
immediately and decisively. If not, if we let it simmer in our conscious or
unconscious minds, it will take root within us. We must keep short accounts
with others, pulling weeds daily. As St Paul says: "Do not let the sun go
down on your anger" (Ephesians 4.26). Some people think this means letting
everyone who has angered you know they have angered you. There may be times
when this is necessary, but in many cases what usually happens is that the
other person believing (as we all do; let’s admit that, too) he has been
falsely accused simply gets angry in turn. There’s a fine mess. Keeping short
accounts means forgiving those who have made you angry. And forgiveness does
not mean changing how you feel. To forgive is to relinquish a claim to
restitution; it is a decision not to seek repayment for the wrong. Yes, that
means we suffer the slight, which means we, ourselves, in effect pay the debt
that is owed us. But that is exactly what it means for God to forgive us.
Forgiveness of debts always costs the creditor. (This is a commonly
mis-understood element of the Parable of the Prodigal Son in Luke 15.11-31. The
father did forgive the son, but it cost him half of his wealth in order to do
so.)
Third, the most effective way to deal with anger is to die
to our egos; this is also the most difficult. We are very sensitive to what
others may think of us, suspicious that others may be talking about us
unfavorably behind our backs. We get hurt when others disappoint us, convinced
(truth be told) we had a right to expect differently of them. Then too, we may
feel that others expect too much of us, and have no right to do so. One of the
desert monks had a humorous tale by way of remedy:
A brother came to see Abba Makarios and said, "Abba, give me a word that I may be saved." Abba Makarios said, "Go to the cemetary and abuse the dead. " The brother went there and abused them and threw stones at their graves. The he returned to Abba Makarios and told the old man about it. The old man asked, "Did they say anything to you?" He replied, "No." The old man said, "Go back tomorrow and praise the dead." So the brother went away and praised them, calling them apostles and saints and righteous men. He returned to the old man and said, "I have complimented them." And the old man said to him, "Did they not answer you?" The brother said, "No." The old man said to him, "Do you know how you insulted them and they did not reply, and how you praised them and they did not speak? So you too, if you wished to be saved, must do the same and become a dead man. Like the dead, take no account of either the scorn of men or their praises, and you can be saved.
We too must become like a dead man, dead to our egos. In
such a state of mind neither praise nor insult can harm us. Yes, praise can
harm us, even if only by setting us up for disappointment when we are not
praised (and moving us to attempt things for purposes of eliciting praise) and
by making insults ever more difficult to bear, making us angrier than we might
otherwise have been. This isn't to say we shouldn't express gratitude when we
are praised, depending upon the nature of the praise. But we should simply take
note of the praise, express gratitude, and forget about it.
Of course, if it were easy everyone would be there and there
would be no anger in the world at all. It requires work because, for many,
anger has become a habit. And as Saint Neilus the Ascetic said, “Habit leads to
a set disposition, and this in turn becomes what may be called ‘second nature’;
and it is hard to shift and alter nature.” Indeed. And I know this well, for of
all the passions, anger is the one I struggle with most.
20 September 2012
The Africans are coming! The Africans are coming!
6:45 PM
And it's a good thing, too!
The Nigerians have landed. They want the gospel reclaimed on US soil because, they argue, the Episcopal Church has abandoned the historic gospel and drunk the Kool-aid of pansexuality and interfaith alliances where no gospel needs to be proclaimed because all roads ultimately lead to heaven.Actually, African Anglicans have been working here in the US for some time. My Anglican priest father,and other friends of mine who are Anglican clerics, have been working with the Africans here for years. It's a good thing.
03 July 2012
11:40 PM
George Will is among those conservatives driven to find victory in a stunning defeat.
By persuading the court to reject a Commerce Clause rationale for a president’s signature act, the conservative legal insurgency against Obamacare has won a huge victory for the long haul. This victory will help revive a venerable tradition of America’s political culture, that of viewing congressional actions with a skeptical constitutional squint, searching for congruence with the Constitution’s architecture of enumerated powers. By rejecting the Commerce Clause rationale, Thursday’s decision reaffirmed the Constitution’s foundational premise: Enumerated powers are necessarily limited because, as Chief Justice John Marshall said, “the enumeration presupposes something not enumerated.”This desperation to find a victory rides rough-shod over the fact that, as the Chief Justice explained, we are still free to buy (government approved) healthcare or not buy healthcare insurance; we just aren't free to not buy healthcare insurance and not pay a penalty for not owning healthcare insurance. And the IRS is still invested with power it did not previous have; and it previously had a lot.
The IRS now gets to know about a small business's entire payroll, the level of their insurance coverage -- and it gets to know the income of not just the primary breadwinner in your house, but your entire family’s income, in order to assess/collect the mandated tax. Plus, it gets to share your personal info with all sorts of government agencies, insurance companies and employers. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. "We expect even more lien and levy powers," an IRS official says.
11:32 PM
In our mothers' house, there's lots and lots o' love. What was it Malcolm X said about a fool letting his enemy educate his children?
30 May 2012
How Academics Concocted a New 'Middle Class'
7:02 AM
Just getting a degree secures the American Dream, right? Not necessarily. And it probably never really did.
24 May 2012
Stairway to heaven?
3:48 PM
Dr. Bob Gonzales, of Reformed Baptist Seminary offers a fresh look at The Tower of Babel.
"The infamous 'Tower of Babel' episode (Gen 11:1-9) provides a concise yet poignant display of human pride on a societal scale."
22 May 2012
Gluttony: Mother of all the vices?
10:21 AM
Gluttony
Desert Spirituality for Reformed People (13)
You greatly delude yourself...if you think that one thing is demanded from the layman and another from the monk.... Because all must rise to the same height.... ~ St. John Chrysostom
The United States are, arguably, in the midst of an obesity epidemic. Many Americans are either eating far too much (far more than is necessary for simple nourishment); or they are eating foods with little to no nutritional value whatsoever. In either case, the reason is probably the same: the food and drink being consumed are delightful to the palate. The truth is, the sort of diet which would prevent obesity is actually very boring, to look at, to smell and to taste. And that really is an important point.
The sin involved in gluttony is the worship of the senses in general, but of the taste in specific. In short, the senses--indeed the entire world of sensory assaults--become substitutes for God. We are, in various ways, lacking peace in our hearts. We are restless and bored, so, instead of turning to God we seek out sundry stimuli, one of the most popular, for some, being food. For such people, food, as a source of strength and inner peace, takes the place of God. For that reason, the sin entailed in gluttony is really a form of idolatry.
Most of us probably think that gluttony involves eating a lot of food. As a consequence, we may be inclined to think that we can easily spot the gluttonous because they are the obese and overweight. Frankly, for many of these the problem is not how much is eaten, but what is eaten, in tandem with how little exercise they may get. Many are gluttonous without realizing it because we don't eat a lot, but we have the same preoccupation with food nonetheless.
In The Screwtape Letters, C. S. Lewis makes a distinction between gluttony of excess and gluttony of delicacy. In the persona of Screwtape, he describes a woman who has no idea the depth of her enslavement to sensuality because the quantities of food involved in her gluttony are so small:
Just like Screwtape said: Quantities don't matter. Food can still be used to produce "querulousness, impatience, uncharitableness, and self-concern." It can also produce death.
So, a more telling sign of gluttony may be nothing more complicated than simple preoccupation with food.
The question is how do we learn to engage in a "sober use of meat and drink" as the Larger Catechism puts it (Q. 135)? The desert fathers had so many practices in this regard that there are almost as many different practices as there are desert fathers to study! It's difficult to know what to make of it or how to imitate these practices exactly as they did, since there were so many diverse practices. But we can at least say this. There isn't any need for a lock-step uniformity in practice. The diversity of practice coupled with the success of these practices demonstrates this. In denomonations which observe the Lenten dietary rules, there are some pastors who tell their congregations that they must, in order properly to observe these rules, abstain even from any medications they may be taking. (There are, thankfully, many in those same denominations who give the opposite counsel.) This approach operates with the understanding that the people must observe Lent exactly in conformity with their liturgical texts. One can find churches which prescribe not just how much (or how little) one should eat, but even what one shall not eat (meat; poultry; fish; dairy products, including eggs; alcholic beverages; and oil, etc).
In and of themselves, and persuant to the goal of learning sobriety in the "use of meat and drink", there is nothing wrong at all with these sorts of strict observances. What is wrong is the absence of a rationale for these abstentions. Abstain from these things, because it's Lent. That's all. What is over-looked is the fact that one can easily abstain and still be lead by the stomach or palate into "querulousness, impatience, uncharitableness, and self-concern."
But these observances harken back to the monastics. What were they up to? Recall their goal: to increase love for God and for others. How do these abstentions facilitate the achievment of those goals? Rather than being preoccupied with meat, eggs and wine, we need to remember the goal. The purpose for these abstentions is to rid ourselves of a sort of devotion to an elaborate variety in our diet, an elaborate variety that can distract us, by means of a sensory assault, from devotion to God (specifically, devotion to prayer) and to others. The point is to have our body in its proper relationship to the Lord Jesus. (And freedom from enslavement to the demands of our taste buds is also physically healthy.)
Meat, eggs, and wine may not be the things from which we should abstain occasionally in waging our war against gluttony. If all we do is compile a list of foods from which we abstain, as if those abstentions in and of themselves could do us spiritual good, then we have made the same error as the Pharisees, who argued over such things as whether to eat an egg laid on the Sabbath--as if man were made for the Sabbath and its rules (man-made or otherwise), rather than the Sabbath for man (see Mark 2.27). If we do that, we aren't resisting the passions, we're just abstaining from this or that item of food or drink. Our focus will be on the rules about food, what we're permitted to eat on certain occasions, rather than on resisting the passion of gluttony. If you think about it, this focus on what we may be permitted to eat is not too unlike the sort of woman Lewis was writing about, above. That woman, recall, was making work difficult for an already over-worked server.
One way we can resist the passion of gluttony is to demand, expect and be content with less when we go out to eat (or even when we dine at home), to tolerate not getting it our way all the time, or not getting our way at all. If what we get is food, then let's be content with it if by the time it gets to the table it's a little cooler than we might like. If there's water on the table for us to drink, we should be content with it if our servers don't do the best job of keeping our soda glass full. Too often we insist on getting we we've paid for, rather than on extending grace to people who do not cease to be humans just because they've punched a time-clock. It's nice for our food to be as piping hot as we like; it's also nice (though not very healthy) to have a bottomless glass of soda (or beer); it's nice to get what we've paid for. But we should be mindful of those around the world who would love to have the food we complain of; we should be mindful of the fact that those who have prepared our food and those who have served our food probably feel just as over-worked and under-appreciated in their work as we do in our own.
You can see that we can be abstemious about not eating this or that--or eating less than this or that other amount--and still mistreat people. This is not what it looks like to resist a passion. Resistance to passion should move us to treat people better, not worse.
We should also focus much less on pleasing the palate, or our taste buds. Often what, and how much, we eat is dependent upon its taste and how much that taste pleases us. The more intense the sensory assault, the more we are likely to enjoy it. Ask yourself if you would drive as far, and with as much anticipation, for a meal of plain rice and beans, seasoned only with a bit of salt and pepper, washed down only with water, as you would for a simple burger and fries, washed down with a soda--much less for large plate piled high with Mexican food. Most of us would probably prefer almost anything but a dish of rice and beans. Why not, especially when, in most cases, that dish of rice and beans will be healthier than the burger, fries and soda, or even the Mexican food? Because, employing a comparison of sensory assaults, a plate of beans and rice is black-and-white analog television, while the alternatives are color-loaded HDTV. It's not about nourishment; it's about distraction from the cares of life, distraction mediated by that assault of sensory delights upon the palate.
Our use of food for purposes other than nourishiment may often be an attempt at self-consolation. Many of us are stressed, worried, figety, bored, dis-satisfied with our lives or otherwise without inner peace. In the same way that those who struggle with lust may turn to sexual gratification rather than to God when attempting to turn from their stresses pains and cares, we turn to food, seeking relief by using food and drink to stimulate the pleasure centers in our brains. We are even encouraged to do so. We attempt, in short, to employ food (among other things) to provide what only God can provide. For that moment, we feel so much better. That is what gluttony really is. And that is why Christian thinkers have always maintained that gluttony is a form of idolatry. It denies what God has said of himself: In His presence is fullness of joy and at his right hand are pleasures forevermore (see Psalm 16.11).
So pernicious is gluttony that Christian thinkers have long claimed that termperance is something like the mother of all virtues. The nineteenth-century Russian Bishop Ignatius Brianchaninov said: "Wise temperance of the stomach is a door to all the virtues. Restrain the stomach, and you will enter Paradise. But if you please and pamper your stomach, you will hurl yourself over the precipice of bodily impurity, into the fire of wrath and fury, you will coarsen and darken your mind, and in this way you will ruin your powers of attention and self-control, your sobriety and vigilance."
The Westminster divines, like the desert fathers before them, thought that restraining the passions, even the passion of food, was an important and necessary pre-condition for obedience to God. As I mentioned above, as one of the duties implied by the prohibition of murder, the Westminster divines, in the Larger Catechism (Question 135), included "sober use of meat and drink." The context of the answer makes clear that the divines were looking at internal states of affairs, habits and dispositions (especially of mind) which serve as the pre-conditions for obedience:
You greatly delude yourself...if you think that one thing is demanded from the layman and another from the monk.... Because all must rise to the same height.... ~ St. John Chrysostom
The United States are, arguably, in the midst of an obesity epidemic. Many Americans are either eating far too much (far more than is necessary for simple nourishment); or they are eating foods with little to no nutritional value whatsoever. In either case, the reason is probably the same: the food and drink being consumed are delightful to the palate. The truth is, the sort of diet which would prevent obesity is actually very boring, to look at, to smell and to taste. And that really is an important point.
The sin involved in gluttony is the worship of the senses in general, but of the taste in specific. In short, the senses--indeed the entire world of sensory assaults--become substitutes for God. We are, in various ways, lacking peace in our hearts. We are restless and bored, so, instead of turning to God we seek out sundry stimuli, one of the most popular, for some, being food. For such people, food, as a source of strength and inner peace, takes the place of God. For that reason, the sin entailed in gluttony is really a form of idolatry.
Most of us probably think that gluttony involves eating a lot of food. As a consequence, we may be inclined to think that we can easily spot the gluttonous because they are the obese and overweight. Frankly, for many of these the problem is not how much is eaten, but what is eaten, in tandem with how little exercise they may get. Many are gluttonous without realizing it because we don't eat a lot, but we have the same preoccupation with food nonetheless.
In The Screwtape Letters, C. S. Lewis makes a distinction between gluttony of excess and gluttony of delicacy. In the persona of Screwtape, he describes a woman who has no idea the depth of her enslavement to sensuality because the quantities of food involved in her gluttony are so small:
[W]hat do quantities matter, provided we can use a human belly and palate to produce querulousness, impatience, uncharitableness, and self-concern?.... [This woman] is a positive terror to hostesses and servants. She is always turning from what has been offered her to say with a deumure little sigh and a smile, "Oh, please, please... all I want is a cup of tea, weak but not too weak, and the teeniest weeniest bit of really crisp toast." You see? Because what she wants is smaller and less costly than what has been set before her, she never recognizes as gluttony her determination to get what she wants, however troublesome it may be to others. At the very moment of induging her appetite she believes that she is practising temperance. In a crowded restaurant she gives a lttle scream at the plate which some overworked waitress has set before her and says: "Oh, that's far, far too much? Take it away and bring me about a quarter of it." If challenged, she would say she was doing this to avoid waste; in reality she does it because the particular shade of delicacy to which we have enslaved her is offended by the sight of more food than she happens to want.In her novel, Death Comes for the Archbishop, Willa Cather narrates the legend of Fray Baltazar Montoya, priest at Ácoma, in Northern New Mexico in the early seventeen hundreds. Balatazar enjoyed living well and self-indulgently at the expense of his native American congregation, so much so that they were always on the verge of revolt. The only thing which held them in check was fear of what they perceived as his magic. "It was clear," as Cather puts it, "that the Friar at Ácoma lived more after the flesh than after the spirit." Overlooking his other sins, we can focus on his gluttony, both of excess and of delicacy. He decided to invite some of his fellow priests from other parishes to dine with him and "admire his fine garden, his ingenious kitchen, his airy loggia with its rugs and water jars, where he meditated and took his after-dinner siesta." Having been trained as a cook in a monastery in Spain, frequently visited by Spanish nobles, he prepared an excellent feast. A particular source of pride was his preparation of a sauce to accompany his hare jardinière. For the sake of brevity, one of the serving boys, carrying in the hare jardinière was distracted by one of Baltazar's guests and spilled some of the sauce on one of the other guests. Baltazar, who was quick-tempered, and slightly drunk with brandy, violently threw his empty pewter mug at the boy, striking him in the head and killing him.
Just like Screwtape said: Quantities don't matter. Food can still be used to produce "querulousness, impatience, uncharitableness, and self-concern." It can also produce death.
So, a more telling sign of gluttony may be nothing more complicated than simple preoccupation with food.
The question is how do we learn to engage in a "sober use of meat and drink" as the Larger Catechism puts it (Q. 135)? The desert fathers had so many practices in this regard that there are almost as many different practices as there are desert fathers to study! It's difficult to know what to make of it or how to imitate these practices exactly as they did, since there were so many diverse practices. But we can at least say this. There isn't any need for a lock-step uniformity in practice. The diversity of practice coupled with the success of these practices demonstrates this. In denomonations which observe the Lenten dietary rules, there are some pastors who tell their congregations that they must, in order properly to observe these rules, abstain even from any medications they may be taking. (There are, thankfully, many in those same denominations who give the opposite counsel.) This approach operates with the understanding that the people must observe Lent exactly in conformity with their liturgical texts. One can find churches which prescribe not just how much (or how little) one should eat, but even what one shall not eat (meat; poultry; fish; dairy products, including eggs; alcholic beverages; and oil, etc).
In and of themselves, and persuant to the goal of learning sobriety in the "use of meat and drink", there is nothing wrong at all with these sorts of strict observances. What is wrong is the absence of a rationale for these abstentions. Abstain from these things, because it's Lent. That's all. What is over-looked is the fact that one can easily abstain and still be lead by the stomach or palate into "querulousness, impatience, uncharitableness, and self-concern."
But these observances harken back to the monastics. What were they up to? Recall their goal: to increase love for God and for others. How do these abstentions facilitate the achievment of those goals? Rather than being preoccupied with meat, eggs and wine, we need to remember the goal. The purpose for these abstentions is to rid ourselves of a sort of devotion to an elaborate variety in our diet, an elaborate variety that can distract us, by means of a sensory assault, from devotion to God (specifically, devotion to prayer) and to others. The point is to have our body in its proper relationship to the Lord Jesus. (And freedom from enslavement to the demands of our taste buds is also physically healthy.)
Meat, eggs, and wine may not be the things from which we should abstain occasionally in waging our war against gluttony. If all we do is compile a list of foods from which we abstain, as if those abstentions in and of themselves could do us spiritual good, then we have made the same error as the Pharisees, who argued over such things as whether to eat an egg laid on the Sabbath--as if man were made for the Sabbath and its rules (man-made or otherwise), rather than the Sabbath for man (see Mark 2.27). If we do that, we aren't resisting the passions, we're just abstaining from this or that item of food or drink. Our focus will be on the rules about food, what we're permitted to eat on certain occasions, rather than on resisting the passion of gluttony. If you think about it, this focus on what we may be permitted to eat is not too unlike the sort of woman Lewis was writing about, above. That woman, recall, was making work difficult for an already over-worked server.
One way we can resist the passion of gluttony is to demand, expect and be content with less when we go out to eat (or even when we dine at home), to tolerate not getting it our way all the time, or not getting our way at all. If what we get is food, then let's be content with it if by the time it gets to the table it's a little cooler than we might like. If there's water on the table for us to drink, we should be content with it if our servers don't do the best job of keeping our soda glass full. Too often we insist on getting we we've paid for, rather than on extending grace to people who do not cease to be humans just because they've punched a time-clock. It's nice for our food to be as piping hot as we like; it's also nice (though not very healthy) to have a bottomless glass of soda (or beer); it's nice to get what we've paid for. But we should be mindful of those around the world who would love to have the food we complain of; we should be mindful of the fact that those who have prepared our food and those who have served our food probably feel just as over-worked and under-appreciated in their work as we do in our own.
You can see that we can be abstemious about not eating this or that--or eating less than this or that other amount--and still mistreat people. This is not what it looks like to resist a passion. Resistance to passion should move us to treat people better, not worse.
We should also focus much less on pleasing the palate, or our taste buds. Often what, and how much, we eat is dependent upon its taste and how much that taste pleases us. The more intense the sensory assault, the more we are likely to enjoy it. Ask yourself if you would drive as far, and with as much anticipation, for a meal of plain rice and beans, seasoned only with a bit of salt and pepper, washed down only with water, as you would for a simple burger and fries, washed down with a soda--much less for large plate piled high with Mexican food. Most of us would probably prefer almost anything but a dish of rice and beans. Why not, especially when, in most cases, that dish of rice and beans will be healthier than the burger, fries and soda, or even the Mexican food? Because, employing a comparison of sensory assaults, a plate of beans and rice is black-and-white analog television, while the alternatives are color-loaded HDTV. It's not about nourishment; it's about distraction from the cares of life, distraction mediated by that assault of sensory delights upon the palate.
Our use of food for purposes other than nourishiment may often be an attempt at self-consolation. Many of us are stressed, worried, figety, bored, dis-satisfied with our lives or otherwise without inner peace. In the same way that those who struggle with lust may turn to sexual gratification rather than to God when attempting to turn from their stresses pains and cares, we turn to food, seeking relief by using food and drink to stimulate the pleasure centers in our brains. We are even encouraged to do so. We attempt, in short, to employ food (among other things) to provide what only God can provide. For that moment, we feel so much better. That is what gluttony really is. And that is why Christian thinkers have always maintained that gluttony is a form of idolatry. It denies what God has said of himself: In His presence is fullness of joy and at his right hand are pleasures forevermore (see Psalm 16.11).
So pernicious is gluttony that Christian thinkers have long claimed that termperance is something like the mother of all virtues. The nineteenth-century Russian Bishop Ignatius Brianchaninov said: "Wise temperance of the stomach is a door to all the virtues. Restrain the stomach, and you will enter Paradise. But if you please and pamper your stomach, you will hurl yourself over the precipice of bodily impurity, into the fire of wrath and fury, you will coarsen and darken your mind, and in this way you will ruin your powers of attention and self-control, your sobriety and vigilance."
The Westminster divines, like the desert fathers before them, thought that restraining the passions, even the passion of food, was an important and necessary pre-condition for obedience to God. As I mentioned above, as one of the duties implied by the prohibition of murder, the Westminster divines, in the Larger Catechism (Question 135), included "sober use of meat and drink." The context of the answer makes clear that the divines were looking at internal states of affairs, habits and dispositions (especially of mind) which serve as the pre-conditions for obedience:
A."What are the duties required in the sixth commandment?"Neither the desert fathers nor the Westminster divines were the first to meditate upon the pre-conditions for obedience. The Lord Jesus, speaking of the suddenness of his return, gave this warning to his disciples (Luke 21.34):
Q. "The duties required in the sixth commandment are, all careful studies, and lawful endeavors, to preserve the life of ourselves and others by resisting all thoughts and purposes, subduing all passions, and avoiding all occasions, temptations, and practices, which tend to the unjust taking away the life of any; by just defense thereof against violence, patient bearing of the hand of God, quietness of mind, cheerfulness of spirit; a sober use of meat, drink, physic, sleep, labor, and recreations; by charitable thoughts, love, compassion, meekness, gentleness, kindness; peaceable, mild and courteous speeches and behavior; forbearance, readiness to be reconciled, patient bearing and forgiving of injuries, and requiting good for evil; comforting and succoring the distressed, and protecting and defending the innocent."
Be on guard, so that your hearts will not be weighted down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of life, and that day will not come on you suddenly like a trap; for it will come upon all those who dwell on the face of all the earth. 36 But keep on the alert at all times, praying that you may have strength to escape all these things that are about to take place, and to stand before the Son of Man.The Christian life is a life of prayerful, priestly devotion to God, a life of watchful expectation of his return. We cannot live that life preoccupied with our taste buds and palates any more than we can live it in preoccupation with our sexual organs, material possessions or status. If we can't resist the demands of our palates, we may have little hope of resisting even greater temptations. In fact, it may be, as I've already suggested, that some of our eating may in fact be substitues for yielding to some of our other temptations.
10 May 2012
5:23 PM
Wait! The military are fighting on whose behalf? POTUS seems to think it is his, not ours. Probably just a slip of the tongue.
12:05 PM
Thomas Sowell on the crumbling of our moral infrastructure:
On the other hand, maybe I don't:
[W]hen did the 99% elect them as their representatives? If in fact 99% of the people in the country were like these "Occupy" mobs, we would not have a country. We would have anarchy. Democracy does not mean mob rule. It means majority rule. If the "Occupy" movement, or any other mob, actually represents a majority, then they already have the votes to accomplish legally whatever they are trying to accomplish by illegal means. Mob rule means imposing what the mob wants, regardless of what the majority of voters want. It is the antithesis of democracy.In San Francisco, when the mob smashed the plate-glass window of a small business shop, the owner put up some plywood to replace the glass, and the mob wrote graffiti on his plywood. The consequences? None for the mob, but a citation for the shop owner for not removing the graffiti.Occupy is a term with military connotations. We should employ a term which more accurately describes them, something like Brownshirts. Maybe I exaggerate.
On the other hand, maybe I don't:
“The Obama administration and many of the un-elected ‘czars,’ either directly or indirectly, are engaged in covert activities with the occupy movement, various labor protests, and other subversive activities inside the U.S....”POST SCRIPT: I neglected a tip-of-the-hat to Sarah Hoyt, guest-blogging for Glenn Reynolds.
Althouse: Obama's opinion on the issue of same-sex marriage ...
8:14 AM
Althouse: Obama's opinion on the issue of same-sex marriage ...: He's always been for it. He's just now admitting it.
09 May 2012
Law school malpractice?
4:52 PM
It would be great if law schools did devote attention to The Federalist. But they should also devote an equal amount of attention The Antifederalist. The "antifederalists" had keen insights into some of the problems with the new Constitution (as well as the true intentions of its proponents). For the most part, the prescience of the antifederalists has been ably demonstrated.
07 May 2012
I suppose Europe could rediscover itself
12:36 PM
But it really does, for now, seem to be dying, while America is, arguably, making a come-back..
UPDATE: It occurs to me I should have added I would like very much for Europe to rediscover itself. Among other reasons, I was stationed in Europe with the Army years ago, and loved it there. But I don't hold out much hope, unless there is a mass re-commitment to their Christian roots. I suspect most Europeans don't see it that way.
Who knows. Maybe at the end of all this, Europeans will discover their own culture buried under two centuries of socialist and Marxist garbage: the Europe of Adam Smith and Tocqueville, of von Mises and Hayek, of Aristotle and Aquinas. Maybe they’ll realize their birthright as the original home of liberty and freedom, at long last.Or not.
UPDATE: It occurs to me I should have added I would like very much for Europe to rediscover itself. Among other reasons, I was stationed in Europe with the Army years ago, and loved it there. But I don't hold out much hope, unless there is a mass re-commitment to their Christian roots. I suspect most Europeans don't see it that way.
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About Me
- James Frank Solís
- Former soldier (USA). Graduate-level educated. Married 26 years. Texas ex-patriate. Ruling elder in the Presbyterian Church in America.
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