www.dougwils.com
Choosing Between a Real Enemy or a False Friend
Topic: Politics
Tomorrow is super-sized Tuesday, or whatever it is they call it. A discussion in a recent comments thread has asked why I would be unwilling to vote for Romney or McCain in the general election if they were running against Obama or Hillary, why I would "throw my vote away" by voting for an obscure third-party candidate, or writing someone's name in. Here is why:
Whenever the radical agenda or the slow encroachment of the state are advanced by the liberals, a large number of conservatives oppose them, sometimes effectively. When we elect the kind of "conservatives" who are just methodical, plodding liberals, this has the effect to consolidating and sealing the previous advances of the radical agenda. A good example of this is the issue of women in combat, something that Scripture calls an abomination (Dt. 22:5). This used to be controversial just ten years ago, and it was the Bush administration that settled the issue, putting it beyond our reach.
Conservatives will occasionally revolt against something when the establishment overreaches, as with the Harriet Miers nomination. But that incident was striking precisely because it was so rare.
The issue of abortion matters to me more than any other single issue. It is at the top, and I grant that if the Democrat gets in it will be a lead-pipe-cinch that we will not get another Scalia or Thomas on the court. If McCain or Romney is elected (Romney more than McCain), I grant that we might. But I am not a single-issue voter -- although I do believe in the hegemony of certain key issues, the pro-life thing being one of them.
The fact that I will not vote for McCain or Romney has to do with my judgment (which could certainly be in error) that the effect of their election will be to consolidate and institutionalize some of the central problems in our culture, and that this will happen to even a greater degree than if we get a liberal president. In short, I would rather have a real enemy than a false savior.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Saturday, February 2, 2008
Rhetoric Paper
My Rhetoric paper will be somewhat touchy. I am writing to a hostile audience, and a very emotionally involved hostile audience.
My Propositio (thesis) is that God is in direct control of every bad thing that has ever happened to you. I am writing to those Christians who are orthodox but do not believe this.
Most of my arguments will be Scriptural, but the brunt of the paper will probably be in defining the issue. My hope is to define all opposition right into a corner, where they agree that God is omnipotent and omnibenevolent, but disagree that He is other than a squishy Santa in the sky (where'd we get North Pole?). Then comes Scripture, which you have to either deny, redefine, or submit to.
We shall see how it goes.
I'm off to read poetry, though I may have a few more posts this week.
Blessings,
Jesse Broussard
My Propositio (thesis) is that God is in direct control of every bad thing that has ever happened to you. I am writing to those Christians who are orthodox but do not believe this.
Most of my arguments will be Scriptural, but the brunt of the paper will probably be in defining the issue. My hope is to define all opposition right into a corner, where they agree that God is omnipotent and omnibenevolent, but disagree that He is other than a squishy Santa in the sky (where'd we get North Pole?). Then comes Scripture, which you have to either deny, redefine, or submit to.
We shall see how it goes.
I'm off to read poetry, though I may have a few more posts this week.
Blessings,
Jesse Broussard
Lordship paper
For my Lorship paper, I am interacting with two consecutive comments by Calvin in his Institutes. First, he states that it is impossible to have knowledge of God without knowledge of self, and secondly, he reverses it--knowledge of self is impossible without knowledge of God.
My thesis is that knowledge itself is impossible without an a priori assumption of God. Ironically, I will be using Hume, as an honest atheist is the best Christian apologist.
My main points should be seen coming from ten miles away, but in that respect are kind of like trains: it doesn't matter how long you've seen them coming if you can't move.
The first will likely be a reductio ad absurdam, in which I will assume the contrary of what I am trying to prove. Id est, "If, however, evolution is true, then nothing exists outside of complex chemical reactions, simply time and chance happening upon matter. But we never judge chemical reactions to be right or wrong, they simply are. The paper is not wrong to catch fire, it simply does. That is the way that it behaves in our purely material universe. Our minds are not wrong to assume that there is or isn't a God, that is simply what they do. To consistently hold this materialistic position removes the possibility of any intelligent metaphysical discussion, let alone intelligent disagreement, as our opinions on the matter are irrelevant and have the truth content of a bowl of mushroom soup." Something like that.
The next will be where Hume comes in handy, particularly his arguments on induction. You cannot assume tomorrow based upon today. You do, but you can't. A Christian, even a theist can, but an atheist can't. He has to assume that tomorrow won't be like today, otherwise he would still be inanimate and irrational goo, much like his logical processes. But I won't mention that.
Beyond that I have my refutation of common objections followed by my conclusion.
It should be interesting.
My thesis is that knowledge itself is impossible without an a priori assumption of God. Ironically, I will be using Hume, as an honest atheist is the best Christian apologist.
My main points should be seen coming from ten miles away, but in that respect are kind of like trains: it doesn't matter how long you've seen them coming if you can't move.
The first will likely be a reductio ad absurdam, in which I will assume the contrary of what I am trying to prove. Id est, "If, however, evolution is true, then nothing exists outside of complex chemical reactions, simply time and chance happening upon matter. But we never judge chemical reactions to be right or wrong, they simply are. The paper is not wrong to catch fire, it simply does. That is the way that it behaves in our purely material universe. Our minds are not wrong to assume that there is or isn't a God, that is simply what they do. To consistently hold this materialistic position removes the possibility of any intelligent metaphysical discussion, let alone intelligent disagreement, as our opinions on the matter are irrelevant and have the truth content of a bowl of mushroom soup." Something like that.
The next will be where Hume comes in handy, particularly his arguments on induction. You cannot assume tomorrow based upon today. You do, but you can't. A Christian, even a theist can, but an atheist can't. He has to assume that tomorrow won't be like today, otherwise he would still be inanimate and irrational goo, much like his logical processes. But I won't mention that.
Beyond that I have my refutation of common objections followed by my conclusion.
It should be interesting.
Mere Christianity
I just read Lewis' Mere Christianity again, and now can't figure out why I'd waited so long to do so.
However, a quick caution: Lewis, while brilliant and very pleasant to read, is not entirely "within the ilk" of orthodox theology. It doesn't come out often, but there will be points at which you really should disagree. However, as Wilson said, even when Lewis is wrong, he is more enjoyable than most are when they're right.
A few quotes:
"...we know that if there does exist an absolute goodness it must hate most of what we do. This is the terrible fix we are in. If the universe is not governed by an absolute goodness, then all our efforts are in the long run hopeless. But if it is, then we are making ourselves enemies to that goodness every day, and are not in the least likely to do any better tomorrow, and so our case is hopeless again. We cannot do without it, and we cannot do with it. God is the only comfort, He is also the supreme terror: the thing we most need and the thing we most want to hide from. He is our only possible ally, and we have made ourselves His enemies. Some people talk as if meeting the gaze of absolute goodness would be fun. They need to think again. They are still only playing with religion. Goodness is either the great safety or the great danger--according to the way you react to it. And we have reacted the wrong way."
"There is a difficulty about disagreeing with God. He is the from which all your reasoning power comes: you could not be right and He wrong any more than a stream can rise higher than its own source. When you are arguing against Him you are arguing against the very power that makes you able to argue at all: it is like cutting off the branch you are sitting on."
There are far too many for me to type them all. It is a glorious, five star book that should be read with one eye on it and the other on the Scriptures.
However, a quick caution: Lewis, while brilliant and very pleasant to read, is not entirely "within the ilk" of orthodox theology. It doesn't come out often, but there will be points at which you really should disagree. However, as Wilson said, even when Lewis is wrong, he is more enjoyable than most are when they're right.
A few quotes:
"...we know that if there does exist an absolute goodness it must hate most of what we do. This is the terrible fix we are in. If the universe is not governed by an absolute goodness, then all our efforts are in the long run hopeless. But if it is, then we are making ourselves enemies to that goodness every day, and are not in the least likely to do any better tomorrow, and so our case is hopeless again. We cannot do without it, and we cannot do with it. God is the only comfort, He is also the supreme terror: the thing we most need and the thing we most want to hide from. He is our only possible ally, and we have made ourselves His enemies. Some people talk as if meeting the gaze of absolute goodness would be fun. They need to think again. They are still only playing with religion. Goodness is either the great safety or the great danger--according to the way you react to it. And we have reacted the wrong way."
"There is a difficulty about disagreeing with God. He is the from which all your reasoning power comes: you could not be right and He wrong any more than a stream can rise higher than its own source. When you are arguing against Him you are arguing against the very power that makes you able to argue at all: it is like cutting off the branch you are sitting on."
There are far too many for me to type them all. It is a glorious, five star book that should be read with one eye on it and the other on the Scriptures.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
More Revelation
An interesting note from Chilton's commentary, Days of Vengeance.
The seven churches (though quite real) can be seen to represent seven ages of Old Testament Church history.
1). Ephesus: Christ introduces himself as the Creator, the "angel" is commended for guarding the church from her enemies, and note the Edenic language at the end (tree of life...). Also, "the one who walks in the midst of the seven golden lampstands" is reminiscent of "walking in the garden," which in itself implies imminent judgment.
2). Smyrna: "tribulation ten days" takes us back to Egypt's ten plagues; "Who was dead, and has come to life" reflects Isaac (Gen. 22:1-4) and Joseph (Gen.37:18-16). False Jews correspond with Ishmael, imprisonment via slander is Joseph, and Aaron had a "crown of life."
3). For the skeptics, Pergamos is explicit. If dwelling "where Satan's house is" does not bring to mind the wilderness temptation of Christ (corresponding to the wilderness wandering of Israel: forty days=forty years, grumbling about food=fasting, etc), then the reference to Baalam and Balak should do it. Christ comes as our hero Phineas, and the overcomers are promised "hidden manna" (from the ark, see also Heb. 9:4).
4). Thyatira corresponds to to the Israelite monarchy and Davidic covenant. The "angel's" tolerance of Jezebel who leads God's people into sexual immorality (idolatry), that she and her offspring will be killed, and verse 27 corresponding to David.
5). Sardis would be the later prophetic period: reputation for life when it is actually dead, "wake up" and "strengthen the things that remain," and the "few people" who remained faithful.
6). Philadelphia is Ezra and Nehemiah, having "a little power," the Synagogue of Satan..." corresponds to "false Jews" in Ezra 4 and Nehemiah 4, 6, and 13 (please take a short chronology with Esther, Ezra and Nehemiah), the hour of testing recalls Antiochus Epiphanes (aka, Epimanes, the mad, sacrificed a pig on the altar, declared himself to be god), and he who overcomes will become a pillar in the house of God (rebuilding of the temple).
7). Laodicea is AD 30-70. The pharisaical judaism, the curse of Lev. 18:24-28, and the dominion with Christ granted to the true church.
Blessings,
J. Broussard
The seven churches (though quite real) can be seen to represent seven ages of Old Testament Church history.
1). Ephesus: Christ introduces himself as the Creator, the "angel" is commended for guarding the church from her enemies, and note the Edenic language at the end (tree of life...). Also, "the one who walks in the midst of the seven golden lampstands" is reminiscent of "walking in the garden," which in itself implies imminent judgment.
2). Smyrna: "tribulation ten days" takes us back to Egypt's ten plagues; "Who was dead, and has come to life" reflects Isaac (Gen. 22:1-4) and Joseph (Gen.37:18-16). False Jews correspond with Ishmael, imprisonment via slander is Joseph, and Aaron had a "crown of life."
3). For the skeptics, Pergamos is explicit. If dwelling "where Satan's house is" does not bring to mind the wilderness temptation of Christ (corresponding to the wilderness wandering of Israel: forty days=forty years, grumbling about food=fasting, etc), then the reference to Baalam and Balak should do it. Christ comes as our hero Phineas, and the overcomers are promised "hidden manna" (from the ark, see also Heb. 9:4).
4). Thyatira corresponds to to the Israelite monarchy and Davidic covenant. The "angel's" tolerance of Jezebel who leads God's people into sexual immorality (idolatry), that she and her offspring will be killed, and verse 27 corresponding to David.
5). Sardis would be the later prophetic period: reputation for life when it is actually dead, "wake up" and "strengthen the things that remain," and the "few people" who remained faithful.
6). Philadelphia is Ezra and Nehemiah, having "a little power," the Synagogue of Satan..." corresponds to "false Jews" in Ezra 4 and Nehemiah 4, 6, and 13 (please take a short chronology with Esther, Ezra and Nehemiah), the hour of testing recalls Antiochus Epiphanes (aka, Epimanes, the mad, sacrificed a pig on the altar, declared himself to be god), and he who overcomes will become a pillar in the house of God (rebuilding of the temple).
7). Laodicea is AD 30-70. The pharisaical judaism, the curse of Lev. 18:24-28, and the dominion with Christ granted to the true church.
Blessings,
J. Broussard
Beyond my ilk...
As you will probably know, I hold to a preterist interpretation of most of Scripture, and I believe that we are currently in the millenial reign of Christ. This puts me in somewhat sparse company, though not quite as much so as I used to believe. This means that I hold almost all of Revelation to have been fulfilled in the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 a.d. This position is consistent with Scripture, and, I believe, is the most consistent with Scripture. The symbolism in the book of Revelation is found all throughout Scripture (just read Ezekiel), and should be understood symbolically.
Well, I came across an interesting similarity in two very odd passages. One is in Zechariah, and the other, of course, is to be found in the Revelation of Saint John.
Zechariah chapter one, verse seven begins the vision of the horses. The weight of orthodox exegesis holds these horses to be the church, though others are inclined to view the horses as angels. The Man is quite obviously Christ (Meredith Kline's treatment of Zechariah, Glory in our Midst, is commendable, though in some places greatly lacking).
Anyway, the Revelation passage is quite famous, and provides a basis for lots of pathetic movies and self-consciously dramatic quotes: head bowed, eyes looking up through strands of hair, the absolute stillness, and then, "I looked, and behold, a pale horse. And the name of him who sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him..." It is chapter six, the horses and the riders.
A brief comparison of these passages would seem to indicate that the Rider of Revelation is in all cases Christ, which is quite consistent with the text--just read it over and over, paying attention to what is given to the Rider. This would imply that the horses of Revelation are the Church--the ones controlled and used by Christ.
Not definitive, and I wouldn't make it a point of fellowship (saving that for infralapsarianism), but nothing if not thought provoking.
Well, I came across an interesting similarity in two very odd passages. One is in Zechariah, and the other, of course, is to be found in the Revelation of Saint John.
Zechariah chapter one, verse seven begins the vision of the horses. The weight of orthodox exegesis holds these horses to be the church, though others are inclined to view the horses as angels. The Man is quite obviously Christ (Meredith Kline's treatment of Zechariah, Glory in our Midst, is commendable, though in some places greatly lacking).
Anyway, the Revelation passage is quite famous, and provides a basis for lots of pathetic movies and self-consciously dramatic quotes: head bowed, eyes looking up through strands of hair, the absolute stillness, and then, "I looked, and behold, a pale horse. And the name of him who sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him..." It is chapter six, the horses and the riders.
A brief comparison of these passages would seem to indicate that the Rider of Revelation is in all cases Christ, which is quite consistent with the text--just read it over and over, paying attention to what is given to the Rider. This would imply that the horses of Revelation are the Church--the ones controlled and used by Christ.
Not definitive, and I wouldn't make it a point of fellowship (saving that for infralapsarianism), but nothing if not thought provoking.
More Declamations
Jesse Broussard
Chalcedon Rhetoric
251 Words
We were going for a walk, Holly and I. The night was what I then considered to be skin-thickeningly cold, and the stars were liberally dusted across a clear sky; a full moon haloed above the tree line. The silence was silhouetted against the distant violence of the ocean; punctuated by a whinnying horse and dog collars jingling. Holly and I crossed the mud-slathered road, picking our steps as if it were a minefield, and stopped in awe. A lake of fog was languidly pooled in our field, mulling upon the alfalfa, the moonlit white peripherally pierced by jagged islands of trees. The lake gingerly slipped through the narrow, gate-bereft opening we stood in, where it mused upon our sandaled feet.
Our joined hands tightened. I looked at Holly, and saw the look I was expecting—eyes luminous, dimpled cheeks smattered with freckles, and her slightly parted mouth the embodiment of delighted mischief. She laughed out loud and began sprinting, still holding my hand. Exhilarated at the sheer, glorious absurdity, I raced through the waist deep fog with her, laughing as our unified hands threw off our balance.
Suddenly she screamed and hurled all of her 95 pound, 5’ 1 ¾” body onto my back, one hand on my shoulder, the other on my hair.
“Slugs” she gasped, “in my sandals.”
Ah. The fate worse than death. I cleaned her sandals as she dried her feet on my pants, then stuck them into my pockets.
We took the long way home.
Rosalie Comer
Rhetoric/Chalcedon
January 23, 2008
Word Count: 253
Feline Felicity
“Rosalie, you may now kiss your groom.”
I thought about it and looked at my companion’s hairy lips and tiny mouth. I chucked the idea and kissed his forehead. I knew this cat completed me, and I told it so.
“Cat, you complete me.”
I was five years old and discovering the joys of marriage. Cat and I had been best friends since infancy. I had never seen whiskers so refined. I glowed.
“Rosalie, does the cat want out?” my mom called.
I dashed to let my thirty-pound husband out the door, eager to take my roll as the doting wife. His finely chiseled cat jaw and shiny black fur dash between my feet and out the door.
“Mom, aren’t husbands wonderful?”
My mother was busy making dinner. “Rosalie, I don’t know how you would know.”
I resented this. Couldn’t she believe that her little girl was growing up, or didn’t she notice the king size bed sheet wrapped around my head as a veil?
I heard a meow at the door that only a wife can discern.
“The cat wants back in, Rosalie.”
I arched my back. Didn’t she think that as a good wife, I would hear it myself?
I let him in. This was love. He pranced around my feet and headed back to the door. He wanted out. This was love. I let him out… I let him in. This was…
Too much. I turned to my mother, hands on hips. “Mom, husbands can never make up their minds.”
Kelly Rhine
New Saint Andrews College
RHT-01 – Chalcedon Term
Creative Sketch
Word Count: 278
Going East
The backseat of a Ford Ranger isn’t really a back seat. It’s a coffin that would hardly fit a pygmy. But in the twenty-seventh hour of driving, it seemed as inviting as a mattress store open 24 hours. But sleep didn’t happen. I thought back to being in class, and how easy it had been to sleep there, but my thought was interrupted. The scent didn’t just seep into the backseat, timidly passing through the truck, hoping to go unnoticed. It charged through the cab like a sign of the apocalypse. Suddenly I was returning from Christmas break to find my refrigerator unplugged and left open. Suddenly I was plunged face first into a pool of tuna noodle casserole that had been sitting at room temperature week after week. Suddenly I was Dante, nostrils aflame, cowering behind Virgil as the abyss greeted us with the intense fumes of gangrened flesh slow roasted on a spit. My lungs seized and my eyes watered. With desperation I broke the bonds of seat and panel that pinned me to the floor. I shot up and threw myself at the back window frantic to open it before it shattered. Brandon was at the wheel gasping, as frantic as I was to break the airless vacuum. Tollefson was asleep. Morning air hit me like a strong side safety, but this time giving breath. I leaned over into the front, Tollefson was slowly waking as Brandon plugged him with right hands, shouting at him with the urgency of a mother in labor: “Put your shoes back on!!”
Michael Plaza
The Vacuum Battle
My mom told me to vacuum the cobwebs stuck to the walls in my room. After finishing, I, an obedient 16 year-old, glanced around the room for the third time. None left. So, I began to use the hose on my jeans. The hose hovered over my pant leg making it tremble in mid-air and then gulped up the denim. I felt air sweep past my leg. The vacuum started to shriek for help with its increased high pitch. After being rescued from the pants, it investigated my t-shirt. The t-shirt falsely branded me "lifeguard". And like a dog back to its vomit, it choked on the shirt and for the second time screeched for assistance. Saved again, it stared me in the face. I stared back and wondered. Would it be entertaining to put my mouth around the hose? It looked like a good time waiting to happen. Overconfidently, I brought the hose closer to my mouth and took a firm hold on it with my lips. My tongue instantly swelled in my throat and denied the wind access to my innards. It was like a newborn suffocating on a plastic bag. Terrified by the abrupt fascination the hose had about my tongue, I tore the fiend from mouth like a hook from a confused fish's jaw. I had trusted that tube and it betrayed me. Upon further inspection in the mirror I witnessed a dark cherry colored tongue quivering in the back of my mouth… much like my embarrassed face.
Chalcedon Rhetoric
251 Words
We were going for a walk, Holly and I. The night was what I then considered to be skin-thickeningly cold, and the stars were liberally dusted across a clear sky; a full moon haloed above the tree line. The silence was silhouetted against the distant violence of the ocean; punctuated by a whinnying horse and dog collars jingling. Holly and I crossed the mud-slathered road, picking our steps as if it were a minefield, and stopped in awe. A lake of fog was languidly pooled in our field, mulling upon the alfalfa, the moonlit white peripherally pierced by jagged islands of trees. The lake gingerly slipped through the narrow, gate-bereft opening we stood in, where it mused upon our sandaled feet.
Our joined hands tightened. I looked at Holly, and saw the look I was expecting—eyes luminous, dimpled cheeks smattered with freckles, and her slightly parted mouth the embodiment of delighted mischief. She laughed out loud and began sprinting, still holding my hand. Exhilarated at the sheer, glorious absurdity, I raced through the waist deep fog with her, laughing as our unified hands threw off our balance.
Suddenly she screamed and hurled all of her 95 pound, 5’ 1 ¾” body onto my back, one hand on my shoulder, the other on my hair.
“Slugs” she gasped, “in my sandals.”
Ah. The fate worse than death. I cleaned her sandals as she dried her feet on my pants, then stuck them into my pockets.
We took the long way home.
Rosalie Comer
Rhetoric/Chalcedon
January 23, 2008
Word Count: 253
Feline Felicity
“Rosalie, you may now kiss your groom.”
I thought about it and looked at my companion’s hairy lips and tiny mouth. I chucked the idea and kissed his forehead. I knew this cat completed me, and I told it so.
“Cat, you complete me.”
I was five years old and discovering the joys of marriage. Cat and I had been best friends since infancy. I had never seen whiskers so refined. I glowed.
“Rosalie, does the cat want out?” my mom called.
I dashed to let my thirty-pound husband out the door, eager to take my roll as the doting wife. His finely chiseled cat jaw and shiny black fur dash between my feet and out the door.
“Mom, aren’t husbands wonderful?”
My mother was busy making dinner. “Rosalie, I don’t know how you would know.”
I resented this. Couldn’t she believe that her little girl was growing up, or didn’t she notice the king size bed sheet wrapped around my head as a veil?
I heard a meow at the door that only a wife can discern.
“The cat wants back in, Rosalie.”
I arched my back. Didn’t she think that as a good wife, I would hear it myself?
I let him in. This was love. He pranced around my feet and headed back to the door. He wanted out. This was love. I let him out… I let him in. This was…
Too much. I turned to my mother, hands on hips. “Mom, husbands can never make up their minds.”
Kelly Rhine
New Saint Andrews College
RHT-01 – Chalcedon Term
Creative Sketch
Word Count: 278
Going East
The backseat of a Ford Ranger isn’t really a back seat. It’s a coffin that would hardly fit a pygmy. But in the twenty-seventh hour of driving, it seemed as inviting as a mattress store open 24 hours. But sleep didn’t happen. I thought back to being in class, and how easy it had been to sleep there, but my thought was interrupted. The scent didn’t just seep into the backseat, timidly passing through the truck, hoping to go unnoticed. It charged through the cab like a sign of the apocalypse. Suddenly I was returning from Christmas break to find my refrigerator unplugged and left open. Suddenly I was plunged face first into a pool of tuna noodle casserole that had been sitting at room temperature week after week. Suddenly I was Dante, nostrils aflame, cowering behind Virgil as the abyss greeted us with the intense fumes of gangrened flesh slow roasted on a spit. My lungs seized and my eyes watered. With desperation I broke the bonds of seat and panel that pinned me to the floor. I shot up and threw myself at the back window frantic to open it before it shattered. Brandon was at the wheel gasping, as frantic as I was to break the airless vacuum. Tollefson was asleep. Morning air hit me like a strong side safety, but this time giving breath. I leaned over into the front, Tollefson was slowly waking as Brandon plugged him with right hands, shouting at him with the urgency of a mother in labor: “Put your shoes back on!!”
Michael Plaza
The Vacuum Battle
My mom told me to vacuum the cobwebs stuck to the walls in my room. After finishing, I, an obedient 16 year-old, glanced around the room for the third time. None left. So, I began to use the hose on my jeans. The hose hovered over my pant leg making it tremble in mid-air and then gulped up the denim. I felt air sweep past my leg. The vacuum started to shriek for help with its increased high pitch. After being rescued from the pants, it investigated my t-shirt. The t-shirt falsely branded me "lifeguard". And like a dog back to its vomit, it choked on the shirt and for the second time screeched for assistance. Saved again, it stared me in the face. I stared back and wondered. Would it be entertaining to put my mouth around the hose? It looked like a good time waiting to happen. Overconfidently, I brought the hose closer to my mouth and took a firm hold on it with my lips. My tongue instantly swelled in my throat and denied the wind access to my innards. It was like a newborn suffocating on a plastic bag. Terrified by the abrupt fascination the hose had about my tongue, I tore the fiend from mouth like a hook from a confused fish's jaw. I had trusted that tube and it betrayed me. Upon further inspection in the mirror I witnessed a dark cherry colored tongue quivering in the back of my mouth… much like my embarrassed face.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
New system / Matt. 21
As this blog is intended to keep random musings on Scripture, I am working about a shift in my posting. I will be doing my own studying throughout the week, and posting various topical or exegetical notes each Saturday, and other things (schedule, etc) will be posted as is needed. Keep in mind that the vast majority of my Scriptural postings will be assuming a certain level of typological interpretation (while not discounting the literal) as well as at least a slight familiarity with Hebrew symbolism (which is found throughout all of Scripture).
Beginning in verse eighteen of the twenty-first chapter of Matthew, we have the story of the withered fig tree. Christ returns to Jerusalem hungry, and sees a fig tree. Upon approach, we find that it is covered only with leaves, no fruit anywhere. Christ curses it (Let no fruit grow on you ever again), and it withers.
The disciples are astonished. Christ responds that through faith they have the power to do not only this, but also to command a mountain to be uprooted and cast into the heart of the sea, and it will obey them.
Interpreting Scripture via Scripture, we find that trees are representative of people, and their fruit representative of their deeds. A tree covered with leaves and only leaves can easily be seen to represent a person with the appearance of godliness (leaves) but no actual godliness (fruit). I do not find it too great a stretch to interpret this tree as symbolic of the pharasaical order as a whole, but that is not implicit in the text. What is implicit, or rather explicit, is the reaction of Christ to the "appearance of godliness that denies its power," all of the promise and none of the delivery. As we are the grandchildren of the Pharisees in both beliefs and self-righteous hypocrisy, let this serve as a warning to us as well.
The prophecy found in the next section is one of the most blood chilling in all of Scripture, and finds its fulfillment in Revelation 8:1-8. The mountain can be narrowly seen as the temple mount, but more realistically as what that temple represented--God's covenant people of Israel. Established upon the Edenic mountain with Adam, then upon Ararat with Noah, then Moriah with Moses, and finally upon Zion with David, the covenant was going to be given to the Gentiles through the destruction of those who possessed it--the mountain of God's covenant was cast into the heart of the sea in two ways: the people of God were swallowed by the gentiles, and the covenant was given to the sea, the gentiles.
And this was done through the crying out of the blood of every prophet from Abel to Zechariah, all of which fell upon Jerusalem. The culmination, the ultimate damnation, indeed the final anathema is found when the people cried "His blood be upon us and our children!" Looking back upon the utter desolation wreaked in 70 A.D. upon all who remained, we can see in awe and chilled horror that God said "Amen."
So be it.
J. Broussard
Beginning in verse eighteen of the twenty-first chapter of Matthew, we have the story of the withered fig tree. Christ returns to Jerusalem hungry, and sees a fig tree. Upon approach, we find that it is covered only with leaves, no fruit anywhere. Christ curses it (Let no fruit grow on you ever again), and it withers.
The disciples are astonished. Christ responds that through faith they have the power to do not only this, but also to command a mountain to be uprooted and cast into the heart of the sea, and it will obey them.
Interpreting Scripture via Scripture, we find that trees are representative of people, and their fruit representative of their deeds. A tree covered with leaves and only leaves can easily be seen to represent a person with the appearance of godliness (leaves) but no actual godliness (fruit). I do not find it too great a stretch to interpret this tree as symbolic of the pharasaical order as a whole, but that is not implicit in the text. What is implicit, or rather explicit, is the reaction of Christ to the "appearance of godliness that denies its power," all of the promise and none of the delivery. As we are the grandchildren of the Pharisees in both beliefs and self-righteous hypocrisy, let this serve as a warning to us as well.
The prophecy found in the next section is one of the most blood chilling in all of Scripture, and finds its fulfillment in Revelation 8:1-8. The mountain can be narrowly seen as the temple mount, but more realistically as what that temple represented--God's covenant people of Israel. Established upon the Edenic mountain with Adam, then upon Ararat with Noah, then Moriah with Moses, and finally upon Zion with David, the covenant was going to be given to the Gentiles through the destruction of those who possessed it--the mountain of God's covenant was cast into the heart of the sea in two ways: the people of God were swallowed by the gentiles, and the covenant was given to the sea, the gentiles.
And this was done through the crying out of the blood of every prophet from Abel to Zechariah, all of which fell upon Jerusalem. The culmination, the ultimate damnation, indeed the final anathema is found when the people cried "His blood be upon us and our children!" Looking back upon the utter desolation wreaked in 70 A.D. upon all who remained, we can see in awe and chilled horror that God said "Amen."
So be it.
J. Broussard
Grades
It is as I supposed. I, and twenty five others, failed math. I passed Latin, in the words of my instructor, by the skin of my teeth. Lordship was decent, with a low final and low paper. But Rhetoric, Rhetoric I was not expecting. No, this one blindsided me. I got a Cum Laude. Usually known as a CL, but as I am one of maybe ten in the class, I am pronouncing every single blessed syllable. This is the second highest grade available, and to get this from Misters Wilson and Grieser is not at all common. So, I can't do anything useful, but I can convince people that I can, which is obviously more important.
I have officially, as of Monday, withdrawn from Latin for this term, though I continue to go to all classes, including the extra study sessions that are offered; I am also going to be receiving enough study material from Magister Griffithius to last me through summer. I have no intention of taking five years to complete a four-year degree, but neither do I want to get the degree by a very narrow margin. I have every hope of acing Latin next year, and hope to graduate with honors, should it be feasible.
Blessings,
Jesse Broussard
I have officially, as of Monday, withdrawn from Latin for this term, though I continue to go to all classes, including the extra study sessions that are offered; I am also going to be receiving enough study material from Magister Griffithius to last me through summer. I have no intention of taking five years to complete a four-year degree, but neither do I want to get the degree by a very narrow margin. I have every hope of acing Latin next year, and hope to graduate with honors, should it be feasible.
Blessings,
Jesse Broussard
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Declamations: Creative Sketch
Jesse Broussard
Chalcedon Rhetoric
249 word Character Sketch
Emma
“Here,” I say, smiling, “I’m pretty good with kids.”
I’m at church, trying to impress Holly. She is in the corner, talking quietly. I’ve known her for about two weeks, and she still hasn’t agreed to marry me. I can’t figure it out.
The child I’ve proffered to take, her niece Emma, is four months old, pink, and registering her dissatisfaction with the world in general in a volume heard by a very large portion of the world in particular. The frazzled mother of six hands the wee pink one to me.
When attempting to impress a girl, quieting an infant is a solid move. And this is not actually all that difficult. Just keep moving. In the early stages of rage, a rapid succession of bug, toy, thud, clacking tongue, unsuspecting cat (watch the paws) and contorted face will often distract mewling infant from screaming until you pass it off to some other victim. I start singing quietly and bouncing Emma while walking in a circle. She ignores a toy, and attempts to detach and eat a fistful of my hair.The screaming stops.
Holly looks over curiously.
I see her watching, so I smile and coo at the little brat that’s now discovering that yes, ears are attached. Holly is coming.
I extract Emma's fist from my nostril and pass her off to the nearest female. “Start screaming,” I silently pray. God answers in decibels.
Holly grins at me. “So,” she says, “you’re pretty good with kids?”
Jordan Leithart
Chalcedon Term
January 15, 2008
Rhetoric
WC: 256
LUNDY
I first met him after she told me she liked him. The first thing I knew about him? I would have to say I learned that he could grow a full beard in a day. Immediately, the grotesque image of a hairy beast serving coffee at Bucer’s popped into my head. I figured he would have to wear a full body hair net in order to avoid getting hair in the caramel mochas he was so good at making. But, she liked him. “Drat, I thought, “now, I have to get to know him.”
So, I did. The second thing I learned was that he never finished his sent… He would have the best thing to sa--- Then he would change and start talking about this one time in the freezing rain out on the--- “Look at that!!!” He would suddenly say. Only to point off in a completely different direction the next half second. He is the only person I know who can interrupt himself. But, she liked him. “Sigh…” I thought again to myself, “I’ll try and figure him out even if he single handedly started the whole ADD fad.”
Then it happened, I saw it. In the most bizarre circumstance possible, he stood against the grain of what was happening. Intrigued, I watched. He stood up to the rushing water and successfully changed its course. Here was one man standing up against the seeming world and winning. She loved him. ”I’m so glad,” I thought, “He is the right man for the job.”
Rosalie Comer
Rhetoric
Chalcedon Term
January 16, 2008
Word Count: 246
My Oral Final
I will tell you what I did in Lordship, going into my oral final. I sit down. Mr. Appel pulls out his chair. He sits down.
I start with “Umm…” All of a sudden I am in a world of “Umm’s” and that is all I can think of. Not baptism. Not the sacraments. Not even Augustine.
“Let me tell you about my dream.”
The corner of his lip slowly begins to rise.
“Well, you see, I was pregnant.”
One sinister eyebrow rises a quarter of an inch. Thinking about how lucky I am to get such a response from the man of stone, I continue.
“I was pregnant, and then I realized I didn’t remember getting pregnant. So I asked my mother. ‘Hey Mom, how did I get pregnant? I just don’t remember…’ She looked concerned. ‘Well, Rosalie, honey, recently you’ve been eating a lot of pork. And you are going to have a baby pig.’ ”
Mr. Appel’s other eyebrow goes up, making his forehead look like the Arch of Triumph.
I wish I had stopped there. But I didn’t.
“Mr. Appel, just thinking about giving birth to a pig made me burn with righteous anger. So obviously, the only thing to do was to kill it. I chased the pig around the house with a butcher knife and screamed to my family, “We’re gonna have pork tonight!”
I finished my final telling Mr. Appel, “Dreams have consequences.” His jaw dropped.
Kenneth Trovato
Rhetoric/Chalcedon
WC: 250
1/16/08
Single? Why Wait? Grab a Snickers!
Awkward conversations are like fireworks. Even when you’re not a part of them, you can hear them coming, and when they explode, it is impossible to ignore them. I was in Bucer’s reading some book like it was a sleeping pill, but the conversation next to me was making it extremely hard to read or sleep. I don’t know what these two guys were hoping to accomplish by making the environment awkward for everyone, but they were clearly desperate for the same girl. I don’t pretend to know much about this stuff—she didn’t look to me like she was worth the trouble, but these two guys kept on wrapping themselves around her finger like she was the last woman on earth. I’m not sure how much progress either of them actually made with her, but in a split-second all the work that had scandalized me for an hour went to waste. A third guy walked in, and handed her a snickers bar, clearly stealing her heart. And then he walked right out again. To the jealous and confused looks of her original admirers, she said, “He ate all the snickers bars and didn’t leave any for me, but he just brought me one. Aww.” One of the guys, either getting desperate or knowing the battle was lost and going kamikaze, said, “Snickers is love.” The poor guys just got dumped for a snickers bar, and she looked at them with no sympathy and replied, “This snickers bar is everything to me.”
Chalcedon Rhetoric
249 word Character Sketch
Emma
“Here,” I say, smiling, “I’m pretty good with kids.”
I’m at church, trying to impress Holly. She is in the corner, talking quietly. I’ve known her for about two weeks, and she still hasn’t agreed to marry me. I can’t figure it out.
The child I’ve proffered to take, her niece Emma, is four months old, pink, and registering her dissatisfaction with the world in general in a volume heard by a very large portion of the world in particular. The frazzled mother of six hands the wee pink one to me.
When attempting to impress a girl, quieting an infant is a solid move. And this is not actually all that difficult. Just keep moving. In the early stages of rage, a rapid succession of bug, toy, thud, clacking tongue, unsuspecting cat (watch the paws) and contorted face will often distract mewling infant from screaming until you pass it off to some other victim. I start singing quietly and bouncing Emma while walking in a circle. She ignores a toy, and attempts to detach and eat a fistful of my hair.The screaming stops.
Holly looks over curiously.
I see her watching, so I smile and coo at the little brat that’s now discovering that yes, ears are attached. Holly is coming.
I extract Emma's fist from my nostril and pass her off to the nearest female. “Start screaming,” I silently pray. God answers in decibels.
Holly grins at me. “So,” she says, “you’re pretty good with kids?”
Jordan Leithart
Chalcedon Term
January 15, 2008
Rhetoric
WC: 256
LUNDY
I first met him after she told me she liked him. The first thing I knew about him? I would have to say I learned that he could grow a full beard in a day. Immediately, the grotesque image of a hairy beast serving coffee at Bucer’s popped into my head. I figured he would have to wear a full body hair net in order to avoid getting hair in the caramel mochas he was so good at making. But, she liked him. “Drat, I thought, “now, I have to get to know him.”
So, I did. The second thing I learned was that he never finished his sent… He would have the best thing to sa--- Then he would change and start talking about this one time in the freezing rain out on the--- “Look at that!!!” He would suddenly say. Only to point off in a completely different direction the next half second. He is the only person I know who can interrupt himself. But, she liked him. “Sigh…” I thought again to myself, “I’ll try and figure him out even if he single handedly started the whole ADD fad.”
Then it happened, I saw it. In the most bizarre circumstance possible, he stood against the grain of what was happening. Intrigued, I watched. He stood up to the rushing water and successfully changed its course. Here was one man standing up against the seeming world and winning. She loved him. ”I’m so glad,” I thought, “He is the right man for the job.”
Rosalie Comer
Rhetoric
Chalcedon Term
January 16, 2008
Word Count: 246
My Oral Final
I will tell you what I did in Lordship, going into my oral final. I sit down. Mr. Appel pulls out his chair. He sits down.
I start with “Umm…” All of a sudden I am in a world of “Umm’s” and that is all I can think of. Not baptism. Not the sacraments. Not even Augustine.
“Let me tell you about my dream.”
The corner of his lip slowly begins to rise.
“Well, you see, I was pregnant.”
One sinister eyebrow rises a quarter of an inch. Thinking about how lucky I am to get such a response from the man of stone, I continue.
“I was pregnant, and then I realized I didn’t remember getting pregnant. So I asked my mother. ‘Hey Mom, how did I get pregnant? I just don’t remember…’ She looked concerned. ‘Well, Rosalie, honey, recently you’ve been eating a lot of pork. And you are going to have a baby pig.’ ”
Mr. Appel’s other eyebrow goes up, making his forehead look like the Arch of Triumph.
I wish I had stopped there. But I didn’t.
“Mr. Appel, just thinking about giving birth to a pig made me burn with righteous anger. So obviously, the only thing to do was to kill it. I chased the pig around the house with a butcher knife and screamed to my family, “We’re gonna have pork tonight!”
I finished my final telling Mr. Appel, “Dreams have consequences.” His jaw dropped.
Kenneth Trovato
Rhetoric/Chalcedon
WC: 250
1/16/08
Single? Why Wait? Grab a Snickers!
Awkward conversations are like fireworks. Even when you’re not a part of them, you can hear them coming, and when they explode, it is impossible to ignore them. I was in Bucer’s reading some book like it was a sleeping pill, but the conversation next to me was making it extremely hard to read or sleep. I don’t know what these two guys were hoping to accomplish by making the environment awkward for everyone, but they were clearly desperate for the same girl. I don’t pretend to know much about this stuff—she didn’t look to me like she was worth the trouble, but these two guys kept on wrapping themselves around her finger like she was the last woman on earth. I’m not sure how much progress either of them actually made with her, but in a split-second all the work that had scandalized me for an hour went to waste. A third guy walked in, and handed her a snickers bar, clearly stealing her heart. And then he walked right out again. To the jealous and confused looks of her original admirers, she said, “He ate all the snickers bars and didn’t leave any for me, but he just brought me one. Aww.” One of the guys, either getting desperate or knowing the battle was lost and going kamikaze, said, “Snickers is love.” The poor guys just got dumped for a snickers bar, and she looked at them with no sympathy and replied, “This snickers bar is everything to me.”
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Amusing
It seems that President Bush's advisors came into his office to notify him that three Brazilian soldiers had been killed. He went white in the face, and passed out. When he came to moments later, still ashen, he looked at his advisors and said, "Just . . . just how many is three brazilian?"
Monday, January 14, 2008
Checking in
Now that the first half of the year is over, the teachers are being somewhat less cautious about overloading us with homework, which means, ironically, that I'll be posting more frequently than usual, as I am settling into a much more restricted schedule. I plan to post each Saturday, largely upon what I have done throughout the week, more as a record to myself than as an announcement to anyone else.
This week's course work is as follows:
Monday: Back to school, Latin test; Math; Rhetoric lecture; Arabic.
Tuesday: Lordship lecture.
Wednesday: One lectio in Latin, colloquium, workbook; First six books (three volumes) of Quintillian due Rhetoric Declamation, twenty-five commonplaces, two poems daily, and 250 word original composition to present to class; First chapter of "A Tour of the Calculus" due to have been read twice by Math lecture; Arabic.
Thursday: New Testament due to have been read by Lordship recitation.
Friday: Review in Latin for Monday's test, completion of chapter, lectio, workbook and colloquium due in class; Math quiz, reading chapters V and VI twice each in "Mathematics Through the Ages" due by Lecture, plus outline of these and chapter one of "A Tour of the Calculus" due in Lecture; Disputatio: announcements and grades.
Saturday: sleep in, read a bunch, Sabbath begins at sundown, Sabbath dinner while watching the first two installments of my very own BBC A&E production of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice for a movie night.
Sunday: continued Sabbath (which means have fun and relax), church, Sabbath ends sundown or shortly thereafter :-) , continued review for Latin test.
Blessings,
Jesse Broussard
This week's course work is as follows:
Monday: Back to school, Latin test; Math; Rhetoric lecture; Arabic.
Tuesday: Lordship lecture.
Wednesday: One lectio in Latin, colloquium, workbook; First six books (three volumes) of Quintillian due Rhetoric Declamation, twenty-five commonplaces, two poems daily, and 250 word original composition to present to class; First chapter of "A Tour of the Calculus" due to have been read twice by Math lecture; Arabic.
Thursday: New Testament due to have been read by Lordship recitation.
Friday: Review in Latin for Monday's test, completion of chapter, lectio, workbook and colloquium due in class; Math quiz, reading chapters V and VI twice each in "Mathematics Through the Ages" due by Lecture, plus outline of these and chapter one of "A Tour of the Calculus" due in Lecture; Disputatio: announcements and grades.
Saturday: sleep in, read a bunch, Sabbath begins at sundown, Sabbath dinner while watching the first two installments of my very own BBC A&E production of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice for a movie night.
Sunday: continued Sabbath (which means have fun and relax), church, Sabbath ends sundown or shortly thereafter :-) , continued review for Latin test.
Blessings,
Jesse Broussard
Monday, December 24, 2007
A Review of our Christmas Traditions by George Grant
George Grant has an excellent post on the great martyr, Boniface of Crediton, and the Christmas season. Here is the link:
http://www.kingsmeadow.com/2006/12/boniface-and-little-pascha.html
and here is the post:
Boniface of Crediton spent the first forty years of his life in quiet service to the church near his home in Exeter. He discipled young converts, cared for the sick, and administered relief for the poor. He was a competent scholar as well, expounding Bible doctrine for a small theological center and compiling the first Latin grammar written in England. But in 718, Boniface left the comfort and security of this life to become a missionary to the savage Teutonic tribes of Germany. For thirty years he not only proclaimed to them the Gospel of Light, he portrayed to them the Gospel of Life.
Stories of his courageous intervention on behalf of the innocent abound. He was constantly jeopardizing his own life for the sake of the young, the vulnerable, the weak, the helpless, the aged, the sick, and the poor—often imposing his body between the victims and their oppressors. Indeed, it was during one of his famed rescues that his name was forever linked to the celebration of Advent during Yuletide.
Wherever he went among the fierce Norsemen who had settled along the Danish and German coast, he was forced to face the awful specter of their brutal pagan practices—which included human mutilations and vestal sacrifices. When he arrived in the region of Hesse, Boniface decided to strike at the root of such superstitions. He publicly announced that he would destroy their gods. He then marched toward their great sacred grove. The awestruck crowd at Geismar followed along and then watched as he cut down the sacred Oak of Thor, an ancient object of pagan worship standing atop the summit of Mount Gudenberg near Fritzlar. The pagans, who had expected immediate judgment against such sacrilege, were forced to acknowledge that their gods were powerless to protect their own sanctuaries. Together, they professed faith in Christ.
A young boy from a neighboring village, hearing of such boldness, rushed into the missionary camp of Boniface three evenings later. It was just about twilight on the first Sunday in Advent. He breathlessly told of a sacrifice that was to be offered that very evening—his sister was to serve as the vestal virgin.
Hurrying through the snowy woods and across the rough terrain, Boniface and the boy arrived at the dense sacred grove just in time to see the Druid priest raise his knife into the darkened air. But as the blade plunged downward Boniface hurtled toward the horrid scene. He had nothing in his hands save a small wooden cross. Lunging forward, he reached the girl just in time to see the blade of the knife pierce the cross—thus, saving her life.
The priest toppled back. The huddle of worshipers were astonished. Their was a brief moment of complete silence. Boniface seized upon it. He proclaimed the Gospel to them then and there, declaring that the ultimate sacrifice had already been made by Christ on the cross at Golgotha—there was no need for others.
Captivated by the bizarre scene before them, the small crowd listened intently to his words. After explaining to them the once and for all provision of the Gospel, he turned toward the sacred grove. With the sacrificial knife in hand, he began hacking off low hanging branches. Passing them around the circle, he told each family to take to the small fir boughs home as a reminder of the completeness of Christ’s work on the tree of Calvary. They were to adorn their hearths with the tokens of His grace. They might even chop great logs from the grove as fuel for their home fires, he suggested—not so much to herald the destruction of their pagan ways but rather to memorialize the provision of Christ’s coming. Upon these things they were contemplate over the course of the next four weeks, until the great celebration of Christmas.
Such exploits inspired a number of Advent traditions. The Advent wreath—a fir garland set with five candles, one for each Sunday in Advent and one for Christmas Day—was quickly established as a means of reenacting the Gospel lesson of Boniface. In addition, the Christmas tree, decorated with candles and tinsel, strings of lights and garlands under the eaves and across the mantles, and the Yule log burning in the fireplace were favorite reminders of the season’s essential message.
In time, Boniface established a number of thriving parishes. He eventually became a mentor and support to the Carolingians, and he reformed the Frankish church, which Charles Martel had plundered. Ultimately, he discipled Pipin the Short, the father of Charlemagne the Great.
Then, when he was over 70, Boniface resigned his pastoral responsibilities, in order to spend his last years working among the fierce Frieslanders. With a small company, he successfully reached large numbers in the previously unevangelized area in the northeastern Germanies. On Whitsun Eve Boniface and Eoban were preparing for the baptism of some of the new converts at Dokkum, along the frontier of the Netherlands. Boniface had been quietly reading in his tent while awaiting the arrival of his new converts, when a hostile band of pagan warriors descended on the camp. He would not allow his companions to defend him. As he was exhorting them to trust in God and to welcome the prospect of dying for the faith, they were attacked—Boniface was one of the first to fall.
Though his voice was stilled that day, his testimony only grew louder, surer, and bolder. And thus, to this day, his message lives on—in the traditions of Advent.
http://www.kingsmeadow.com/2006/12/boniface-and-little-pascha.html
and here is the post:
Boniface of Crediton spent the first forty years of his life in quiet service to the church near his home in Exeter. He discipled young converts, cared for the sick, and administered relief for the poor. He was a competent scholar as well, expounding Bible doctrine for a small theological center and compiling the first Latin grammar written in England. But in 718, Boniface left the comfort and security of this life to become a missionary to the savage Teutonic tribes of Germany. For thirty years he not only proclaimed to them the Gospel of Light, he portrayed to them the Gospel of Life.
Stories of his courageous intervention on behalf of the innocent abound. He was constantly jeopardizing his own life for the sake of the young, the vulnerable, the weak, the helpless, the aged, the sick, and the poor—often imposing his body between the victims and their oppressors. Indeed, it was during one of his famed rescues that his name was forever linked to the celebration of Advent during Yuletide.
Wherever he went among the fierce Norsemen who had settled along the Danish and German coast, he was forced to face the awful specter of their brutal pagan practices—which included human mutilations and vestal sacrifices. When he arrived in the region of Hesse, Boniface decided to strike at the root of such superstitions. He publicly announced that he would destroy their gods. He then marched toward their great sacred grove. The awestruck crowd at Geismar followed along and then watched as he cut down the sacred Oak of Thor, an ancient object of pagan worship standing atop the summit of Mount Gudenberg near Fritzlar. The pagans, who had expected immediate judgment against such sacrilege, were forced to acknowledge that their gods were powerless to protect their own sanctuaries. Together, they professed faith in Christ.
A young boy from a neighboring village, hearing of such boldness, rushed into the missionary camp of Boniface three evenings later. It was just about twilight on the first Sunday in Advent. He breathlessly told of a sacrifice that was to be offered that very evening—his sister was to serve as the vestal virgin.
Hurrying through the snowy woods and across the rough terrain, Boniface and the boy arrived at the dense sacred grove just in time to see the Druid priest raise his knife into the darkened air. But as the blade plunged downward Boniface hurtled toward the horrid scene. He had nothing in his hands save a small wooden cross. Lunging forward, he reached the girl just in time to see the blade of the knife pierce the cross—thus, saving her life.
The priest toppled back. The huddle of worshipers were astonished. Their was a brief moment of complete silence. Boniface seized upon it. He proclaimed the Gospel to them then and there, declaring that the ultimate sacrifice had already been made by Christ on the cross at Golgotha—there was no need for others.
Captivated by the bizarre scene before them, the small crowd listened intently to his words. After explaining to them the once and for all provision of the Gospel, he turned toward the sacred grove. With the sacrificial knife in hand, he began hacking off low hanging branches. Passing them around the circle, he told each family to take to the small fir boughs home as a reminder of the completeness of Christ’s work on the tree of Calvary. They were to adorn their hearths with the tokens of His grace. They might even chop great logs from the grove as fuel for their home fires, he suggested—not so much to herald the destruction of their pagan ways but rather to memorialize the provision of Christ’s coming. Upon these things they were contemplate over the course of the next four weeks, until the great celebration of Christmas.
Such exploits inspired a number of Advent traditions. The Advent wreath—a fir garland set with five candles, one for each Sunday in Advent and one for Christmas Day—was quickly established as a means of reenacting the Gospel lesson of Boniface. In addition, the Christmas tree, decorated with candles and tinsel, strings of lights and garlands under the eaves and across the mantles, and the Yule log burning in the fireplace were favorite reminders of the season’s essential message.
In time, Boniface established a number of thriving parishes. He eventually became a mentor and support to the Carolingians, and he reformed the Frankish church, which Charles Martel had plundered. Ultimately, he discipled Pipin the Short, the father of Charlemagne the Great.
Then, when he was over 70, Boniface resigned his pastoral responsibilities, in order to spend his last years working among the fierce Frieslanders. With a small company, he successfully reached large numbers in the previously unevangelized area in the northeastern Germanies. On Whitsun Eve Boniface and Eoban were preparing for the baptism of some of the new converts at Dokkum, along the frontier of the Netherlands. Boniface had been quietly reading in his tent while awaiting the arrival of his new converts, when a hostile band of pagan warriors descended on the camp. He would not allow his companions to defend him. As he was exhorting them to trust in God and to welcome the prospect of dying for the faith, they were attacked—Boniface was one of the first to fall.
Though his voice was stilled that day, his testimony only grew louder, surer, and bolder. And thus, to this day, his message lives on—in the traditions of Advent.
Wilson, Piper and Wright
Don't know how many of my readers are keeping up with the whole controversy re the New Persective on Paul, but Piper has written a book interacting with Wright, and Wilson is reviewing the reviewer's (Piper's) review. Here is the link, for those interested:
http://www.dougwils.com/index.asp?Action=ArchivesByTopic&TopicID=33
The new ones are posted on his blog as often as he writes them.
Blessings,
Jesse Broussard
http://www.dougwils.com/index.asp?Action=ArchivesByTopic&TopicID=33
The new ones are posted on his blog as often as he writes them.
Blessings,
Jesse Broussard
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Rhetoric Paper: No Idea How Much of the Grade
Muhammad
A Man of Peace?
Jesse Broussard, Nicea Term Rhetoric, 1015 Words
EXORDIUM: Islam’s founder has been slandered as a bloody and violent man. Many terrorists have claimed to be carrying out his will (to the horror of many Muslims). Muhammad is hailed by many as the greatest moral example to ever walk the earth, a tremendous and peaceful prophet. So why the slander? Why call the peaceful Muhammad a man that engenders violence? Well, accusations are only slander if they’re false, so the real question is, are they true?
NARRATIO: Islamic law (based on the revelations of Muhammad) “rejects all attempts on human life,” according to perhaps the leading Shiite theologian,Grand Ayatollah Ali-Muhammad Sistani. Other Muslims state that“The Prophet Muhammad was assigned the Mission of peace in the world by Allah. The fundamental purpose (of Muhammad) was to attain peace with the lord, peace with the universe and peace with the people.” The Quran is cited as promoting peace: “Our Apostle has come to you making clear to you much of what you concealed of the Book…Light has come to you from Allah and a book which guides to the truth, whereby Allah leads to ways of peace those who seek His pleasure.” Also, “The more we emulate the Prophet, the more at peace we are with our Creator, other people, and ourselves.”
On the other side of the debate the general consensus is that Muhammad “was a thief, liar, assassin, mass murderer, terrorist, warmonger, and an unrestrained sexual pervert engaged in pedophilia, incest, and rape. He authorized deception, assassinations, torture, slavery, and genocide. He was a pirate, not a prophet.” And, oddly enough, there seems to be no neutrality—if any believe that he was a well intentioned but perhaps misguided man, and there must be some, they “open not their mouths.” Ironically, a statement from G. K. Chesterton, a great Christian theologian, is remarkably apt here. He says that if Jesus was not the Christ, he was the antichrist. Well, it seems that if Muhammad was not from heaven, he was straight from hell.
PARTITIO: The evidence, however, is all on one side and only on one side. PROPOSITIO: Despite the Muslim claims to the contrary, Muhammad’s life is a bloody life of sanctioned murders and mandated violence, not of peace with men.
CONFIRMATIO: The Quran recounts the assassinations of some poets that had criticized Muhammad, one of which is particularly striking in its detail.
Muhammad said, ‘Will no one rid me of this woman?' Umayr, a zealous Muslim, decided to execute the Prophet's wishes. That very night he crept into the writer's home while she lay sleeping surrounded by her young children. There was one at her breast. Umayr removed the suckling babe and then plunged his sword into the poet. The next morning in the mosque, Muhammad, who was aware of the assassination, said, ‘You have helped Allah and His Apostle.' Umayr said. ‘She had five sons; should I feel guilty?' ‘No,' the Prophet answered. ‘Killing her was as meaningless as two goats butting heads.'
And what of the commands of the great Prophet himself regarding warfare? "It is not fitting for any prophet to have prisoners until he has made a great slaughter in the land," "Truly, if the Hypocrites stir up sedition, if the agitators in the City do not desist, We shall urge you to go against them and set you over them…Whenever they are found, they shall be seized and slain without mercy—a fierce slaughter—a horrible murdering," “A single endeavor of fighting in Allah's Cause is better than the world and whatever is in it,” and finally, “A man came to Allah's Apostle (Muhammad) and said, ‘Instruct me as to such a deed as equals Jihad in reward.' He replied, ‘I do not find such a deed.’ ”
The Quran contains a footnote to clarify exactly who should participate in Jihad, and exactly what Jihad is.
Jihad is holy fighting in Allah's Cause with full force of numbers and weaponry. It is given the utmost importance in Islam and is one of its pillars. By Jihad Islam is established, … and Islam is propagated. …Jihad is an obligatory duty in Islam on every Muslim. He who tries to escape from this duty, or does not fulfill this duty, dies as a hypocrite.
It was revealed to Muhammad by Allah that if a Muslim does not commit Jihad, that Muslim will burn in hell. So, if you are a Muslim and you want your virgins and your thousand-year climax of love (seriously: these are the rewards from Allah), if you prefer paradise to hell, then you’d better grab a gun.
REFUTATIO: Muslims state that “We are now seeing a continuous barrage of sordid insults being hurled at the Prophet (peace be upon him)…(who) taught humanity mercy and justice, even during war…He brought laws of justice that were to be applied during all times both in war and peace…”
Our “sordid insults” are derived from direct quotes from the only surviving information on the life of Muhammad, which happens to be Islamic holy texts. To claim that we slant these quotes is absurd—they already are slanted. And it was his followers, who knew him far better than we do, who unapologetically wrote them—blame them.
Muslims also state that the greater definition of Jihad is “the spiritual struggle of each man, against vice, passion and ignorance,” and that is probably how many Muslims today interpret it. Unfortunately, this definition of Jihad came a bit too late for Muslims living less than 150 years after Muhammad to realize that they weren’t supposed to take over the known world—which they were doing, until the battle of Tours in 732. This is the classical rendition of the word Jihad: holy war, and that upon the infidels, not your own vices.
PERORATIO: Muhammad was a brute. The sooner that this is realized, the sooner we can move beyond our politically correct chains and suggest that maybe, just maybe, the creation reflects the creator, and a religion created by so vile a man may be in itself a vile religion.
Bibliography
B. A. Robins, “When does Islam permit the killing of Muslim non-combatants?The principle of Tattarrus,” http://www.religioustolerance.org/islkill.htm [accessed December 1, 2007]
Dr. Ali Zohery, “Prophet Muhammad: Leadership, Communication and Ethics,” http://prophetmuhammadleadership.org/prophet_muhammad.htm [accessed November 30, 2007]
“Celebrating the Prophet,” http://www.celebratingtheprophet.org/celebrate.htm [accessed November 30, 2007]
Craig Winn, “PROPHET OF DOOM: ISLAM'S TERRORIST DOGMA IN MUHAMMAD'S OWN WORDS,” http://www.freerepublic.com/focus/f-news/1247286/posts [accessed November 28, 2007]
Dr. `Abd al-Wahhâb al-Turayrî , “For the Sake of Allah's Messenger,” http://www.islamtoday.com/showme2.cfm?cat_id=29&sub_cat_id=507 [accessed December 1, 2007]
Encyclopaedia of the Orient, “Jihad,” http://lexicorient.com/e.o/jihad.htm [accessed December 2, 2007]
A Man of Peace?
Jesse Broussard, Nicea Term Rhetoric, 1015 Words
EXORDIUM: Islam’s founder has been slandered as a bloody and violent man. Many terrorists have claimed to be carrying out his will (to the horror of many Muslims). Muhammad is hailed by many as the greatest moral example to ever walk the earth, a tremendous and peaceful prophet. So why the slander? Why call the peaceful Muhammad a man that engenders violence? Well, accusations are only slander if they’re false, so the real question is, are they true?
NARRATIO: Islamic law (based on the revelations of Muhammad) “rejects all attempts on human life,” according to perhaps the leading Shiite theologian,Grand Ayatollah Ali-Muhammad Sistani. Other Muslims state that“The Prophet Muhammad was assigned the Mission of peace in the world by Allah. The fundamental purpose (of Muhammad) was to attain peace with the lord, peace with the universe and peace with the people.” The Quran is cited as promoting peace: “Our Apostle has come to you making clear to you much of what you concealed of the Book…Light has come to you from Allah and a book which guides to the truth, whereby Allah leads to ways of peace those who seek His pleasure.” Also, “The more we emulate the Prophet, the more at peace we are with our Creator, other people, and ourselves.”
On the other side of the debate the general consensus is that Muhammad “was a thief, liar, assassin, mass murderer, terrorist, warmonger, and an unrestrained sexual pervert engaged in pedophilia, incest, and rape. He authorized deception, assassinations, torture, slavery, and genocide. He was a pirate, not a prophet.” And, oddly enough, there seems to be no neutrality—if any believe that he was a well intentioned but perhaps misguided man, and there must be some, they “open not their mouths.” Ironically, a statement from G. K. Chesterton, a great Christian theologian, is remarkably apt here. He says that if Jesus was not the Christ, he was the antichrist. Well, it seems that if Muhammad was not from heaven, he was straight from hell.
PARTITIO: The evidence, however, is all on one side and only on one side. PROPOSITIO: Despite the Muslim claims to the contrary, Muhammad’s life is a bloody life of sanctioned murders and mandated violence, not of peace with men.
CONFIRMATIO: The Quran recounts the assassinations of some poets that had criticized Muhammad, one of which is particularly striking in its detail.
Muhammad said, ‘Will no one rid me of this woman?' Umayr, a zealous Muslim, decided to execute the Prophet's wishes. That very night he crept into the writer's home while she lay sleeping surrounded by her young children. There was one at her breast. Umayr removed the suckling babe and then plunged his sword into the poet. The next morning in the mosque, Muhammad, who was aware of the assassination, said, ‘You have helped Allah and His Apostle.' Umayr said. ‘She had five sons; should I feel guilty?' ‘No,' the Prophet answered. ‘Killing her was as meaningless as two goats butting heads.'
And what of the commands of the great Prophet himself regarding warfare? "It is not fitting for any prophet to have prisoners until he has made a great slaughter in the land," "Truly, if the Hypocrites stir up sedition, if the agitators in the City do not desist, We shall urge you to go against them and set you over them…Whenever they are found, they shall be seized and slain without mercy—a fierce slaughter—a horrible murdering," “A single endeavor of fighting in Allah's Cause is better than the world and whatever is in it,” and finally, “A man came to Allah's Apostle (Muhammad) and said, ‘Instruct me as to such a deed as equals Jihad in reward.' He replied, ‘I do not find such a deed.’ ”
The Quran contains a footnote to clarify exactly who should participate in Jihad, and exactly what Jihad is.
Jihad is holy fighting in Allah's Cause with full force of numbers and weaponry. It is given the utmost importance in Islam and is one of its pillars. By Jihad Islam is established, … and Islam is propagated. …Jihad is an obligatory duty in Islam on every Muslim. He who tries to escape from this duty, or does not fulfill this duty, dies as a hypocrite.
It was revealed to Muhammad by Allah that if a Muslim does not commit Jihad, that Muslim will burn in hell. So, if you are a Muslim and you want your virgins and your thousand-year climax of love (seriously: these are the rewards from Allah), if you prefer paradise to hell, then you’d better grab a gun.
REFUTATIO: Muslims state that “We are now seeing a continuous barrage of sordid insults being hurled at the Prophet (peace be upon him)…(who) taught humanity mercy and justice, even during war…He brought laws of justice that were to be applied during all times both in war and peace…”
Our “sordid insults” are derived from direct quotes from the only surviving information on the life of Muhammad, which happens to be Islamic holy texts. To claim that we slant these quotes is absurd—they already are slanted. And it was his followers, who knew him far better than we do, who unapologetically wrote them—blame them.
Muslims also state that the greater definition of Jihad is “the spiritual struggle of each man, against vice, passion and ignorance,” and that is probably how many Muslims today interpret it. Unfortunately, this definition of Jihad came a bit too late for Muslims living less than 150 years after Muhammad to realize that they weren’t supposed to take over the known world—which they were doing, until the battle of Tours in 732. This is the classical rendition of the word Jihad: holy war, and that upon the infidels, not your own vices.
PERORATIO: Muhammad was a brute. The sooner that this is realized, the sooner we can move beyond our politically correct chains and suggest that maybe, just maybe, the creation reflects the creator, and a religion created by so vile a man may be in itself a vile religion.
Bibliography
B. A. Robins, “When does Islam permit the killing of Muslim non-combatants?The principle of Tattarrus,” http://www.religioustolerance.org/islkill.htm [accessed December 1, 2007]
Dr. Ali Zohery, “Prophet Muhammad: Leadership, Communication and Ethics,” http://prophetmuhammadleadership.org/prophet_muhammad.htm [accessed November 30, 2007]
“Celebrating the Prophet,” http://www.celebratingtheprophet.org/celebrate.htm [accessed November 30, 2007]
Craig Winn, “PROPHET OF DOOM: ISLAM'S TERRORIST DOGMA IN MUHAMMAD'S OWN WORDS,” http://www.freerepublic.com/focus/f-news/1247286/posts [accessed November 28, 2007]
Dr. `Abd al-Wahhâb al-Turayrî , “For the Sake of Allah's Messenger,” http://www.islamtoday.com/showme2.cfm?cat_id=29&sub_cat_id=507 [accessed December 1, 2007]
Encyclopaedia of the Orient, “Jihad,” http://lexicorient.com/e.o/jihad.htm [accessed December 2, 2007]
H.
A flick'ring flame, a dancing view:
Lamb-white skin laced with midnight dew;
Labyrinthine veins of marbled blue;
Long lashes closed, a haze of hair
As flamed curls toy with coy night's air,
And apple blossoms jewels she wears.
A languid lid unveils an eye:
Moss and clay evoke, imply...
A cat-like stretch; we watch light die.
A murm'ring smile, no word is said,
Enfolding arms, hand under head:
We'll drown in dreams where time is dead.
Lamb-white skin laced with midnight dew;
Labyrinthine veins of marbled blue;
Long lashes closed, a haze of hair
As flamed curls toy with coy night's air,
And apple blossoms jewels she wears.
A languid lid unveils an eye:
Moss and clay evoke, imply...
A cat-like stretch; we watch light die.
A murm'ring smile, no word is said,
Enfolding arms, hand under head:
We'll drown in dreams where time is dead.
Sunday, December 2, 2007
My Rhetoric Teacher: Old Credenda
On Joy:
Joy is the priest of the emotions. The mediator, the mitigator, the inciter of chocolate riots. What is joy? Joy is looking to the laughably cloud-disheveled heavens with a prayer of thanksgiving on your lips, thanking the sovereign God that He saw fit to place you here, to bring your footsteps to the appropriate place so that you might see the pretty girl walking away and the man on the bike watching her and not the curb. Joy is the look you give him when he sees that you are the only witness, and you see that he has sprained his wrist.
On Weather:
Everywhere I look, I see a world of images that could end up abused on Christian posters and cards, tagged with verses in a juxtaposition that makes God seem merely quaint. But God does revel in a whitened world cross-lit by a pink sunset. If He didn't, I assume He would stop doing it. But what the Christian card won't show you is the other side of rime frost, the cost of white-wrapped bushes, and that's what the freezing fog can do to your sidewalk. You can see the spiked ice ornaments left on each pine needle, but the sheet of ice left beneath your feet is invisible.
If I am a consistent Christian, a connoisseur of the divine personality, then I should be able to enjoy the pink light on the frosted trees when I am warm and cocoa-filled beside my own cheaply lit indoor version, or while I lie on the frigid ground with a broken hip, unable to reach my cell phone. Unless I've slid all the way beneath my car, and can't see anything.
On Remodeling a Roof:
Rain on an old roof slick with grit and malicious thoughts. Boom-flown death sentences. It's my roof. I would not risk my life for it, but that is what I am doing. It is a game now. I cannot go inside and make life stop, or lie on my back and watch my ceiling slowly collapse beneath bursting tarps. It is no longer so much a game of points. Now we are playing dodge-ball, or buck-buck. We're riding bulls. It is about surviving. It is about not collapsing. It is about laughing. When I stop laughing, then I have stopped standing back up. I would rather ride one of the forty foot girders off the roof than fold now. God wants me on the angry bull. It pleases Him, and I can find no greater pleasure than that. No joy greater than sliding down a roof in the rain, trying to catch a truss. I will not become that kid on the playground who can't win and so squeals, "Stop it," and something about his mother. It is better to be beaten. I hate that kid—the kid who never could never appreciate a nosebleed—and my mother's the one who turned on the sink.
Joy is the priest of the emotions. The mediator, the mitigator, the inciter of chocolate riots. What is joy? Joy is looking to the laughably cloud-disheveled heavens with a prayer of thanksgiving on your lips, thanking the sovereign God that He saw fit to place you here, to bring your footsteps to the appropriate place so that you might see the pretty girl walking away and the man on the bike watching her and not the curb. Joy is the look you give him when he sees that you are the only witness, and you see that he has sprained his wrist.
On Weather:
Everywhere I look, I see a world of images that could end up abused on Christian posters and cards, tagged with verses in a juxtaposition that makes God seem merely quaint. But God does revel in a whitened world cross-lit by a pink sunset. If He didn't, I assume He would stop doing it. But what the Christian card won't show you is the other side of rime frost, the cost of white-wrapped bushes, and that's what the freezing fog can do to your sidewalk. You can see the spiked ice ornaments left on each pine needle, but the sheet of ice left beneath your feet is invisible.
If I am a consistent Christian, a connoisseur of the divine personality, then I should be able to enjoy the pink light on the frosted trees when I am warm and cocoa-filled beside my own cheaply lit indoor version, or while I lie on the frigid ground with a broken hip, unable to reach my cell phone. Unless I've slid all the way beneath my car, and can't see anything.
On Remodeling a Roof:
Rain on an old roof slick with grit and malicious thoughts. Boom-flown death sentences. It's my roof. I would not risk my life for it, but that is what I am doing. It is a game now. I cannot go inside and make life stop, or lie on my back and watch my ceiling slowly collapse beneath bursting tarps. It is no longer so much a game of points. Now we are playing dodge-ball, or buck-buck. We're riding bulls. It is about surviving. It is about not collapsing. It is about laughing. When I stop laughing, then I have stopped standing back up. I would rather ride one of the forty foot girders off the roof than fold now. God wants me on the angry bull. It pleases Him, and I can find no greater pleasure than that. No joy greater than sliding down a roof in the rain, trying to catch a truss. I will not become that kid on the playground who can't win and so squeals, "Stop it," and something about his mother. It is better to be beaten. I hate that kid—the kid who never could never appreciate a nosebleed—and my mother's the one who turned on the sink.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Chalcedon Term Lordship: 40% of our grade. I'm praying.
In the Name of the Father…
A comparison of Karl Barth and Leonard Vander Zee on Baptism
Jesse Broussard
Lordship, Nicea Term
Karl Barth was a genius. He published over six million—yes, six million words in his magnum opus Church Dogmatics alone. His commentary on Romans is considered to be one of the most important theological treatises since Friedrich Schleiermacher's On Religion: Speeches to its Cultured Despisers. And, he was an absolute bastion of Orthodoxy—once asked if he could sum up his life’s work in a single sentence, he paused for a moment before responding with a smile: “Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so.” So, when Barth takes a position, we should give that position a great deal of respect, and not reject it lightly.
Leonard J. Vander Zee is the author of several books and multiple magazine articles, as well as being the pastor of South Bend (Ind.) Christian Reformed Church. He is highly respected throughout most of the reformed world, and our own Peter Leithart praises his Christ, Baptism and the Lord’s Supper as “the most satisfying introduction to sacramental theology that I've come across.”
So, we have a highly respected pastor who disagrees with a nearly legendary theologian. Not surprisingly, it is over baptism.
In any debate, the parameters are paramount—when debating an issue, you must have defined terms. This is the most exigent point for clarity, without which we cannot hope to make real progress in any type of dispute. So, in this debate on baptism, let us look at the debater’s actual definitions of baptism, for this is where the disagreement occurs: what is baptism, and what does it do?
Karl Barth says that baptism is
"The representation* of a man’s renewal through his participation by means of the power of the Holy Spirit in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, and therewith the representation* of man’s association with Christ, with the covenant of grace which is concluded and realized in Him and with the fellowship of His Church."
This is quite clear. Baptism is a physical representation of a spiritual reality, and that is the reality of a man’s regeneration. As it is a representation, it should not be expected to do anything—it points to what has already been done, or what is being done, it re-presents, perhaps in a symbolic and more clear fashion, what has elsewhere occurred.
However, Vander Zee does not agree, to put it mildly. He states that “In the sacraments we acknowledge in faith that whatever happens to Christ also happens to us,” and “Baptism plunges us into the waters of His vicarious human life, uniting us and identifying us with this new humanity.” Their disagreement continues, as Barth states “That it (baptism) is only* a picture is evident…” while Vander Zee says “(baptism is) truly a means of grace…”
Their fundamental opposition should now be quite clear, andit truly is a tremendous difference. Baptism to Barth is a representation of our union to Christ, but to Vander Zee, it seems to accomplish our union. To Barth, baptism is a symbol pointing to a reality as a statue points to a man; to Vander Zee, baptism is in and of itself the actuality, the brass tacks if you will. This is the heart, soul, and extent of their disagreement: baptism as a symbol of our union with Christ verses baptism as an agent of our union with Christ. Put another way, Barth says that webaptize to symbolize our union with God, while what Vander Zee says is more along the lines of God baptizing us into a union with Him.
So with their differnces now clear, we must ask the question: who is right? Or, more properly, which one represents Scripture more accurately?For this, we must turn to the Bible, which is far from silent and entirely “other than neutral.” 1 Peter 3 states that “There is an antitype (of Noah’s salvation through the flood) which now saves us*—baptism…” In Colossians, Paul is no less explicit, declaring in chapter two that baptism itself unites us to Christ’s death and resurrection. Romans 6 declares that “as many of us as were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into His death…Therefore we were buried with Him through baptism into death, that just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life.” Galatians 3 blithely states that it is via baptism that we “put on Christ.” And, throughout Scripture, the symbolism of baptism is pervasive, and almost never used to symbolize a small or simple event, but usually cataclysmic and earth-shattering events. Indeed, usually creations or decreations—the Holy Spirit upon the surface of the waters in creation, the flood, the birth of Israel through the Red Sea, and again through the Jordan River. Elijah and Elisha part and pass through rivers in their ministries, Moses and Jonah are both given unique baptisms which result in the salvation of a nation and a great city, respectively. We have so many more that I do not have time to list them, but again, they are almost universally tremendous, glacial events—the ministry of the “greatest man of woman born” was baptism, and he declared that the ministry of the Messiah would be a greater baptism, and then the ministry of this Messiah, our Lord the Christ Himself was initiated at His own baptism.
What we are never given in Scripture—and I speak with great respect of a man whose stature I cannot even comprehend, let alone aspire to—but what we are never, never—not even once—given in Scripture is the picture of baptism that Barth gives us: a representation of a greater event. No, baptism throughout Scripture is without exception presented as Vander Zee has portrayed it—a mysterious, momentous event that raises nations and casts them down, that changes the course of history time and time again—a great, epochal and monumental event.
Someone will ask—someone always asks—“Why does this even matter?” The question is fair, and to an extent I agree. No one should decide not to fellowship with another Christian because of their baptistic theology, as this is an area upon which great orthodox men of faith disagree. But when the fruits of the varying beliefs upon “what baptism is” are seen, we end up with a spectrum of lifestyles ranging from paedobaptists to Anabaptists; we have infants raised in the “paidea” of God, and we have godly teenagers who are still estranged from the table of Christ’s body and blood, and are raised outside of the covenant community to which they are heirs. In the words of the Apostle: My brethren, these things should not be so.
Bibliography
http://www.christianitytoday.com/history/special/131christians/barth.html
www.leithart.com/archives/000984.php
Barth, Karl. The Teaching of the Church Regarding Baptism (Eugene: Wipf and Stock
Publishers, 2006).
Vander Zee, Leonard J. Christ, Baptism and the Lord’s Supper: Recovering the
Sacraments for Evangelical Worship (Downers Grove, IL: Intervarsity Press, 2004).
A comparison of Karl Barth and Leonard Vander Zee on Baptism
Jesse Broussard
Lordship, Nicea Term
Karl Barth was a genius. He published over six million—yes, six million words in his magnum opus Church Dogmatics alone. His commentary on Romans is considered to be one of the most important theological treatises since Friedrich Schleiermacher's On Religion: Speeches to its Cultured Despisers. And, he was an absolute bastion of Orthodoxy—once asked if he could sum up his life’s work in a single sentence, he paused for a moment before responding with a smile: “Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so.” So, when Barth takes a position, we should give that position a great deal of respect, and not reject it lightly.
Leonard J. Vander Zee is the author of several books and multiple magazine articles, as well as being the pastor of South Bend (Ind.) Christian Reformed Church. He is highly respected throughout most of the reformed world, and our own Peter Leithart praises his Christ, Baptism and the Lord’s Supper as “the most satisfying introduction to sacramental theology that I've come across.”
So, we have a highly respected pastor who disagrees with a nearly legendary theologian. Not surprisingly, it is over baptism.
In any debate, the parameters are paramount—when debating an issue, you must have defined terms. This is the most exigent point for clarity, without which we cannot hope to make real progress in any type of dispute. So, in this debate on baptism, let us look at the debater’s actual definitions of baptism, for this is where the disagreement occurs: what is baptism, and what does it do?
Karl Barth says that baptism is
"The representation* of a man’s renewal through his participation by means of the power of the Holy Spirit in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, and therewith the representation* of man’s association with Christ, with the covenant of grace which is concluded and realized in Him and with the fellowship of His Church."
This is quite clear. Baptism is a physical representation of a spiritual reality, and that is the reality of a man’s regeneration. As it is a representation, it should not be expected to do anything—it points to what has already been done, or what is being done, it re-presents, perhaps in a symbolic and more clear fashion, what has elsewhere occurred.
However, Vander Zee does not agree, to put it mildly. He states that “In the sacraments we acknowledge in faith that whatever happens to Christ also happens to us,” and “Baptism plunges us into the waters of His vicarious human life, uniting us and identifying us with this new humanity.” Their disagreement continues, as Barth states “That it (baptism) is only* a picture is evident…” while Vander Zee says “(baptism is) truly a means of grace…”
Their fundamental opposition should now be quite clear, andit truly is a tremendous difference. Baptism to Barth is a representation of our union to Christ, but to Vander Zee, it seems to accomplish our union. To Barth, baptism is a symbol pointing to a reality as a statue points to a man; to Vander Zee, baptism is in and of itself the actuality, the brass tacks if you will. This is the heart, soul, and extent of their disagreement: baptism as a symbol of our union with Christ verses baptism as an agent of our union with Christ. Put another way, Barth says that webaptize to symbolize our union with God, while what Vander Zee says is more along the lines of God baptizing us into a union with Him.
So with their differnces now clear, we must ask the question: who is right? Or, more properly, which one represents Scripture more accurately?For this, we must turn to the Bible, which is far from silent and entirely “other than neutral.” 1 Peter 3 states that “There is an antitype (of Noah’s salvation through the flood) which now saves us*—baptism…” In Colossians, Paul is no less explicit, declaring in chapter two that baptism itself unites us to Christ’s death and resurrection. Romans 6 declares that “as many of us as were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into His death…Therefore we were buried with Him through baptism into death, that just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life.” Galatians 3 blithely states that it is via baptism that we “put on Christ.” And, throughout Scripture, the symbolism of baptism is pervasive, and almost never used to symbolize a small or simple event, but usually cataclysmic and earth-shattering events. Indeed, usually creations or decreations—the Holy Spirit upon the surface of the waters in creation, the flood, the birth of Israel through the Red Sea, and again through the Jordan River. Elijah and Elisha part and pass through rivers in their ministries, Moses and Jonah are both given unique baptisms which result in the salvation of a nation and a great city, respectively. We have so many more that I do not have time to list them, but again, they are almost universally tremendous, glacial events—the ministry of the “greatest man of woman born” was baptism, and he declared that the ministry of the Messiah would be a greater baptism, and then the ministry of this Messiah, our Lord the Christ Himself was initiated at His own baptism.
What we are never given in Scripture—and I speak with great respect of a man whose stature I cannot even comprehend, let alone aspire to—but what we are never, never—not even once—given in Scripture is the picture of baptism that Barth gives us: a representation of a greater event. No, baptism throughout Scripture is without exception presented as Vander Zee has portrayed it—a mysterious, momentous event that raises nations and casts them down, that changes the course of history time and time again—a great, epochal and monumental event.
Someone will ask—someone always asks—“Why does this even matter?” The question is fair, and to an extent I agree. No one should decide not to fellowship with another Christian because of their baptistic theology, as this is an area upon which great orthodox men of faith disagree. But when the fruits of the varying beliefs upon “what baptism is” are seen, we end up with a spectrum of lifestyles ranging from paedobaptists to Anabaptists; we have infants raised in the “paidea” of God, and we have godly teenagers who are still estranged from the table of Christ’s body and blood, and are raised outside of the covenant community to which they are heirs. In the words of the Apostle: My brethren, these things should not be so.
Bibliography
http://www.christianitytoday.com/history/special/131christians/barth.html
www.leithart.com/archives/000984.php
Barth, Karl. The Teaching of the Church Regarding Baptism (Eugene: Wipf and Stock
Publishers, 2006).
Vander Zee, Leonard J. Christ, Baptism and the Lord’s Supper: Recovering the
Sacraments for Evangelical Worship (Downers Grove, IL: Intervarsity Press, 2004).
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Oddities of my friends and neighbors...
Here's a Dr. Seuss Declamation:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tOa0HaWIJJQ
"I Feel Pretty" in a very intriguing Latin rendition:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FpzjI80LlEw&feature=related
Achilles verse Paris, in a rather typical display of our Muscovitishness:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6EqjqkcsDOQ&feature=related
It's actually quite amusing to just browse through our rather imposing selection of videos. There's a Princess Bride in Latin, as well as a bunch of other things. There should soon be me verse Swanson in a rugby video; I'll let you know.
Blessings,
Jesse Broussard
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tOa0HaWIJJQ
"I Feel Pretty" in a very intriguing Latin rendition:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FpzjI80LlEw&feature=related
Achilles verse Paris, in a rather typical display of our Muscovitishness:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6EqjqkcsDOQ&feature=related
It's actually quite amusing to just browse through our rather imposing selection of videos. There's a Princess Bride in Latin, as well as a bunch of other things. There should soon be me verse Swanson in a rugby video; I'll let you know.
Blessings,
Jesse Broussard
Christ as Priest
Comparing Leviticus 10:9 with Matthew 27, we are given yet another angle from which to view the work of Christ.
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