“The failure to read good books...”
The failure to read good books both enfeebles the vision and strengthens our most fatal tendency – the belief that the here and now is all there is.
— Allan Bloom (h/t: Cultural Offering)
Taking Thoughts Captive
The failure to read good books both enfeebles the vision and strengthens our most fatal tendency – the belief that the here and now is all there is.
— Allan Bloom (h/t: Cultural Offering)
The same God who guides the stars in their courses, who directs the earth in its orbit, who feeds the burning furnace of the sun, and keeps the stars perpetually burning with their fires—the same God has promised to supply thy strength. While he is able to do all these things, think not that he shall be unable to fulfill his own promise!”
— Charles Spurgeon
My disdain for Dispensationalism is no secret.
It fails to discern the unfolding of God's saving plan for humanity. It fails to properly understand the fulfillment of the Old Testament in the New. It flies in the face of the Church's consistent and universal understanding of Scripture. It is a novel scheme that is heterodox, at best, and heretical in some of its variations (I'm looking at you, John Hagee).
Here is the summary of a Roman Catholic explanation of Dispensationalism and Zionism that does a great job succinctly dismantling this interpretive system, which (thankfully) is waning in popularity and influence:
Christ is the fulfillment of the Old Testament. He is the New Covenant, which established the new Jerusalem, the Church, at the cost of His own blood, which does not seek to rebuild the Temple in Jerusalem, let alone advocate a Zionist political state.
The promise of the land was always inseparable from the Temple: “you are to seek the place the Lord your God will choose from among all your tribes to put his Name there for his dwelling. To that place you must go” (Deuteronomy 12:5). Since an earthly Temple is no longer wanted by God, for Christ Himself is the Temple—“Destroy this temple, and I will raise it again in three days” (John 2:19)—the religious reasons Christian Zionists hold that a physical land is necessary are obsolete since the Messiah became the Temple and sign of the land.
Written by Charles Wesley and first published in 1740, “Depth of Mercy! Can There Be?” captures the anguish of sin, the mercy of God in Christ, the undeserved grace of God in justification, and the necessity of cooperation with the Spirit in our sanctification.
We aren't inclined to sing hymns of this length today, which—as we've seen in previous hymns—is to our detriment. This hymn is worthy of our close reading and meditation during the penitential season of Lent.
Depth of mercy! Can there be Mercy still reserved for me? Can my God His wrath forbear, Me, the chief of sinners, spare?
I have long withstood His grace, Long provoked Him to His face, Would not hearken to His calls, Grieved Him by a thousand falls.
I my master have denied, I afresh have crucified, And profaned His hallowed name, Put Him to an open shame.
I have spilt His precious blood, Trampled on the Son of God, Filled with pangs unspeakable, I, who yet am not in hell!
Lo! I still walk on the ground: Lo! an advocate is found: Hasten not to cut him down, Let this barren soul alone.
Jesus speaks, and pleads His blood! He disarms the wrath of God; Now my Father’s mercies move, Justice lingers into love.
Kindled His relentings are, Me He now delights to spare, Cries, How shall I give thee up? Lets the lifted thunder drop.
Whence to me this waste of love? Ask my advocate above! See the cause in Jesus’ face, Now before the throne of grace.
There for me the Savior stands, Shows His wounds and spreads His hands. God is love! I know, I feel; Jesus weeps and loves me still.
Jesus, answer from above, Is not all Thy nature love? Wilt Thou not the wrong forget, Permit me to kiss Thy feet?
If I rightly read Thy heart, If Thou all compassion art, Bow Thine ear, in mercy bow, Pardon and accept me now.
Pity from Thine eye let fall, By a look my soul recall; Now the stone to flesh convert, Cast a look, and break my heart.
Now incline me to repent, Let me now my sins lament, Now my foul revolt deplore, Weep, believe, and sin no more.
It can be exalting to belong to a church that is five hundred years behind the times and sublimely indifferent to fashion; it is mortifying to belong to a church that is five minutes behind the times, huffing and puffing to catch up.
— Joe Sobran (quoted here)
Your church either has a stage or an altar. One glories God, one glorifies whoever is on stage. Choose wisely.
— (quoted here)
As we enter into this Lenten season, prayer is one of the disciplines that many Christians will focus on. This morning, I stumbled upon this prayer penned by Rafael Cardinal Merry Del Val (1865-1930), who served as the Secretary of State for Pope St. Pius X. There is nothing specifically Roman Catholic about it, nor is there any reason it cannot be prayed by any Christian, regardless of background. We would all do well to pray this litany slowly and thoughtfully.
Jesus, meek and humble of heart, hear me. From the desire of being esteemed, deliver me, Jesus. From the desire of being loved, deliver me, Jesus. From the desire of being extolled, deliver me, Jesus. From the desire of being honored, deliver me, Jesus. From the desire of being praised, deliver me, Jesus. From the desire of being preferred to others, deliver me, Jesus. From the desire of being consulted, deliver me, Jesus. From the desire of being approved, deliver me, Jesus. From the fear of being humiliated, deliver me, Jesus. From the fear of being despised, deliver me, Jesus. From the fear of suffering rebukes, deliver me, Jesus. From the fear of being calumniated, deliver me, Jesus. From the fear of being forgotten, deliver me, Jesus. From the fear of being ridiculed, deliver me, Jesus. From the fear of being wronged, deliver me, Jesus. From the fear of being suspected, deliver me, Jesus. That others may be loved more than I, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. That others may be esteemed more than I, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. That, in the opinion of the world, others may increase and I may decrease, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. That others may be chosen and I set aside, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. That others may be praised and I unnoticed, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. That others may be preferred to me in everything, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. That others may become holier than I, provided that I may become as holy as I should, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. Amen.
Note: calumniated means maligned, slandered, or defamed
Almighty and Everlasting God, Who hatest nothing that Thou hast made, and dost forgive the sins of all those who are penitent: Create and make in us new and contrite hearts, that we. worthily lamenting our sins, and acknowledging our wretchedness, may obtain of Thee, the God of all mercy, perfect remission and forgiveness; through Jesus Christ, Thy Son, our Lord, Who liveth and reigneth with Thee and the Holy Ghost, ever One God, world without end. Amen.
—Common Service Book of the Lutheran Church, 1917
As we enter in to the holy season of Lent, this hymn by Isaac Watts, based on Psalm 39, is a great guide for our meditation on our mortality and the hope we have in God. It has been sung to various tunes historically, but one of the most common is St. Columba, the familiar tune we know from “The King of Love My Shepherd Is.”
Teach me the measure of my days, Thou Maker of my frame! I would survey life's narrow space, And learn how frail I am.
A span is all that we can boast: A fleeting hour of time; Man is but vanity and dust, In all His flower and prime.
Vain race of mortals, see them move Like shadows o'er the plain: They rage and strive, desire and love, But all the noise is vain.
Some walk in honor's gaudy show; Some dig for golden ore; They toil for whom they do not know, And straight are seen no more.
What should I wish or wait for then, From creatures, earth, and dust? They make our expectations vain, And disappoint our trust.
Now I resign my earthly hope, My fond desires recall; I give my mortal interest up, And make my God my all.
Non-Christians seem to think that the Incarnation implies some particular merit or excellence in humanity. But of course it implies just the reverse: a particular demerit and depravity. No creature that deserved Redemption would need to be redeemed. They that are whole need not the physician. Christ died for men precisely because men are not worth dying for; to make them worth it.
— C.S. Lewis, The World's Last Night, chapter 6
Many readers are familiar with President Dwight Eisenhower's famous 1961 farewell address, where he warned Americans of the necessary evil of the military-industrial complex and the potential for undue and dangerous influence on our society and policies. Regarding its necessity in the modern world, he observed:
“Until the latest of our world conflicts, the United States had no armaments industry. American makers of plowshares could, with time and as required, make swords as well. But now we can no longer risk emergency improvisation of national defense; we have been compelled to create a permanent armaments industry of vast proportions...This conjunction of an immense military establishment and a large arms industry is new in the American experience. The total influence-economic, political, even spiritual-is felt in every city, every state house, every office of the Federal government. We recognize the imperative need for this development. Yet we must not fail to comprehend its grave implications. Our toil, resources and livelihood are all involved; so is the very structure of our society.”
Yet immediately after this concession, Eisenhower issued this somber warning:
“In the councils of government, we must guard against the acquisition of unwarranted influence, whether sought or unsought, by the military-industrial complex. The potential for the disastrous rise of misplaced power exists and will persist.”
His observations and warnings about the military-industrial complex were prophetic. Something that many conservatives praise and take for granted today was something that conservatives in generations preceding us cautioned against.
While many are familiar with this facet of General Eisenhower's warning, there was a second thing he warned us about...the potential and related danger of technological advancement and its impacts on policy. Pointing out the relationship between the military, industry, research, and the federal government, he observed:
“Akin to, and largely responsible for the sweeping changes in our industrial-military posture, has been the technological revolution during recent decades. In this revolution, research has become central; it also becomes more formalized, complex, and costly. A steadily increasing share is conducted for, by, or at the direction of, the Federal government...The prospect of domination of the nation's scholars by Federal employment, project allocations, and the power of money is ever present and is gravely to be regarded.”
And again, immediately following an astute and prophetic observation, Eisenhower cautioned:
“Yet, in holding scientific research and discovery in respect, as we should, we must also be alert to the equal and opposite danger that public policy could itself become the captive of a scientific-technological elite.”
Depending on the party in power, which has changed many times in the 60 years since Eisenhower left office, it is clear that America has fallen prey to both of these influences (sometimes both simultaneously) as well as the political partisanship he said was thankfully avoided during his Administration, all of which continually threaten the principles upon which our Republic was founded.
We would do well to use our time being better students of history and paying less attention to talking heads paid for by very groups whose influence Eisenhower warned us about.
Here is President Eisenhower's short speech in its entirety.