A Random Walk with Dr. Potomac
Yes, it has been too long. Too bad. Dr. Potomac has something to say today.
He is much vexed by the Intelligent Design controversy. As a Christian committed to the truth of the biblical narrative, he believes in a human anthropology rooted in the uncaused cause of God's creative action. As a political professional he has deep misgivings about the way the ID debate is playing out. Unless there's a quick change in tactics that incorporates both science and the humanities, all may well be lost for another century.
Forget about Richard Dawkins. The real problem for the ID movement is that the conservative intelligentsia is out in force against ID. George Will, Charles Krauthammer and, most recently, James Q. Wilson, have all published briefs, and fairly compelling ones at that, against ID in the biology classroom. Unless ID advocates have decided to "go it alone" against the universities, the New York Times and their own friends in media, something has to change.
Now, Dr. Potomac freely acknowledges that many of our conservative intellectuals have gaps in their reasoning concerning ID. Wilson's piece, for instance, argues that the "blind spot" embedded in the human eye is evidence against a creator -- for what all knowing God, he says, would permit such a deficiency? Dr. Potomac responds with, "Why stop there? What about cancer, hurricanes and earthquakes?" Wilson's statment seems to be not much more than a redraft of, "Why do bad things happen to good people?"
Which brings Dr. Potomac to his point. Our ID folks are earnest but weak and are locked in a cage-match with Science, by far the strongest force in Western thought. In such a fight, they will eventually be carried from the arena unconscious. To mix metaphors, in the science courtroom all the evidence is on their side, they have hand-picked the jury and the judge dines daily with prosecutor and the foreman. The process is rigged. It is a fight worth having -- if for no other purpose than to drive the Darwinist priesthood into frenzy -- but no one should be under the illusion that it can be won.
Creationists (and what a fine bit of work has been done to render that word an unspeakable embarassment!) are strongest (or at least should be)in the humanities. Despite a couple centuries of assault, denigration and obituary notices, God is, as always, cheerfully persistent about His own existance. The human heart remains tuned to eternity, and ultimate questions continue to wake us in the middle of dark nights. The moral imagination is alive and well; indeed it is both immeasurable and unquenchable. When one reads the work of Darwinists as they grapple with the uncomfortable questions of existance that arise from the imagination (the "God gene", altruism as a genetically selected behavior, ethics in general) they sound rather out of their depth, in the same way that ID advocates sound in a biology classroom. There's a weakness there, a blind-spot, as it were, in evolutionary biology. We ought to be making the most of it.
Dr. Potomac read the other day that a Kansas University professor, who regards himself as a scourge of the ID movement, proposed making a science class on ID part of the university's offerings on mythology. This gesture of contempt ought to be considered an invitation and opportunity to rethink the strategy.
Vituperative but thoughtful observations on history, politics, religion, and society.
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Friday, December 23, 2005
O Emmanuel
O Emmanuel,
Rex et legifer noster,
expectatio gentium,
et Salvator earum:
veni ad salvandum nos,
Domine, Deus noster.
O Emmanuel,
the one awaited by the gentiles,
and their Savior:
come to save us,
Lord our God.
And with that last O Antiphon the Style Edotor departs for vacation. A blessed, joyous Christmas to all and a Happy 2006!
O Emmanuel,
Rex et legifer noster,
expectatio gentium,
et Salvator earum:
veni ad salvandum nos,
Domine, Deus noster.
O Emmanuel,
the one awaited by the gentiles,
and their Savior:
come to save us,
Lord our God.
And with that last O Antiphon the Style Edotor departs for vacation. A blessed, joyous Christmas to all and a Happy 2006!
I have returned. In reality, I never really went away, but I've been very busy and lurking on the site, hip-hip-hooraying every time the Style Editor and O-man contribute.
Speaking of meat-pies, I love them. It has become a family joke in some ways. I mean, what's better than meat covered in buttery pastry? Maybe meat stuffed with meat (like roast turkey with a pork stuffing?), but pies will do just fine. Yesterday, as a matter of fact, I went to my favorite neighborhood market in Methuen, Mass. to pick up some gorton (Quebecois spiced meat spread, a poor man's pate), two small steak and kidney pies, and a tourtiere pie. I'm feeling my Quebec roots. no? The smell when you open the market door knocks you over. Lovely. I miss it living so far away in Indiana. [Sigh] Pastie pies are lovely too, but I find them heavier in the belly than the French pork pies. Once upon a time, the O-man insisted that pies were New England culinary culture par excellence, and I poo-pooed the idea. Now I am reconsidering...
Since I haven't blogged in such a long time, I'm tagging myself. "Tag, I'm it!"
1. I met both Dan and Marilyn Quayle. I actually met Veep Quayle at Burlington (VT) International Airport as part of the "welcoming committee" that was ushered planeside. This was back in 1991-1992.
2. People have said, at various times (and obviously under the influence of something rather potent), that I look like Bucky Showalter, Audie Murphy, and/or Nathaniel Hawthorne. Get your glasses cleaned, please.
3. I like very cold beverages. Ice cold. No warmish British beer for me.
4. The last cd I bought was Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald singing Gershwin.
5. I have never been west of the Mississippi River.
Speaking of meat-pies, I love them. It has become a family joke in some ways. I mean, what's better than meat covered in buttery pastry? Maybe meat stuffed with meat (like roast turkey with a pork stuffing?), but pies will do just fine. Yesterday, as a matter of fact, I went to my favorite neighborhood market in Methuen, Mass. to pick up some gorton (Quebecois spiced meat spread, a poor man's pate), two small steak and kidney pies, and a tourtiere pie. I'm feeling my Quebec roots. no? The smell when you open the market door knocks you over. Lovely. I miss it living so far away in Indiana. [Sigh] Pastie pies are lovely too, but I find them heavier in the belly than the French pork pies. Once upon a time, the O-man insisted that pies were New England culinary culture par excellence, and I poo-pooed the idea. Now I am reconsidering...
Since I haven't blogged in such a long time, I'm tagging myself. "Tag, I'm it!"
1. I met both Dan and Marilyn Quayle. I actually met Veep Quayle at Burlington (VT) International Airport as part of the "welcoming committee" that was ushered planeside. This was back in 1991-1992.
2. People have said, at various times (and obviously under the influence of something rather potent), that I look like Bucky Showalter, Audie Murphy, and/or Nathaniel Hawthorne. Get your glasses cleaned, please.
3. I like very cold beverages. Ice cold. No warmish British beer for me.
4. The last cd I bought was Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald singing Gershwin.
5. I have never been west of the Mississippi River.
I have returned. In reality, I never really went away, but I've been very busy and lurking on the site, hip-hip-hooraying every time the Style Editor and O-man contribute.
Speaking of meat-pies, I love them. It has become a family joke in some ways. I mean, what's better than meat covered in buttery pastry? Maybe meat stuffed with meat (like roast turkey with a pork stuffing?), but pies will do just fine. Yesterday, as a matter of fact, I went to my favorite neighborhood market in Methuen, Mass. to pick up some gorton (Quebecois spiced meat spread, a poor man's pate), two small steak and kidney pies, and a tourtiere pie. I'm feeling my Quebec roots. no? The smell when you open the market door knocks you over. Lovely. I miss it living so far away in Indiana. [Sigh] Pastie pies are lovely too, but I find them heavier in the belly than the French pork pies. Once upon a time, the O-man insisted that pies were New England culinary culture par excellence, and I poo-pooed the idea. Now I am reconsidering...
Since I haven't blogged in such a long time, I'm tagging myself. "Tag, I'm it!"
1. I met both Dan and Marilyn Quayle. I actually met Veep Quayle at Burlington (VT) International Airport as part of the "welcoming committee" that was ushered planeside. This was back in 1991-1992.
2. People have said, at various times (and obviously under the influence of something rather potent), that I look like Bucky Showalter, Audie Murphy, and/or Nathaniel Hawthorne. Get your glasses cleaned, please.
3. I like very cold beverages. Ice cold. No warmish British beer for me.
4. The last cd I bought was Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald singing Gershwin.
5. I have never been west of the Mississippi River.
Speaking of meat-pies, I love them. It has become a family joke in some ways. I mean, what's better than meat covered in buttery pastry? Maybe meat stuffed with meat (like roast turkey with a pork stuffing?), but pies will do just fine. Yesterday, as a matter of fact, I went to my favorite neighborhood market in Methuen, Mass. to pick up some gorton (Quebecois spiced meat spread, a poor man's pate), two small steak and kidney pies, and a tourtiere pie. I'm feeling my Quebec roots. no? The smell when you open the market door knocks you over. Lovely. I miss it living so far away in Indiana. [Sigh] Pastie pies are lovely too, but I find them heavier in the belly than the French pork pies. Once upon a time, the O-man insisted that pies were New England culinary culture par excellence, and I poo-pooed the idea. Now I am reconsidering...
Since I haven't blogged in such a long time, I'm tagging myself. "Tag, I'm it!"
1. I met both Dan and Marilyn Quayle. I actually met Veep Quayle at Burlington (VT) International Airport as part of the "welcoming committee" that was ushered planeside. This was back in 1991-1992.
2. People have said, at various times (and obviously under the influence of something rather potent), that I look like Bucky Showalter, Audie Murphy, and/or Nathaniel Hawthorne. Get your glasses cleaned, please.
3. I like very cold beverages. Ice cold. No warmish British beer for me.
4. The last cd I bought was Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald singing Gershwin.
5. I have never been west of the Mississippi River.
Thursday, December 22, 2005
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Doubting Thomas
Even doubting Thomas gets his day, and it's today, December 21st.
Today's Collect:
Everliving God, who strengthened your apostle Thomas with firm and certain faith in your Son's resurrection: Grant us so perfectly and without doubt to believe in Jesus Christ, our Lord and our God, that our faith may never be found wanting in your sight; through him who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
Don't forget to bake your meat pies!
Even doubting Thomas gets his day, and it's today, December 21st.
Today's Collect:
Everliving God, who strengthened your apostle Thomas with firm and certain faith in your Son's resurrection: Grant us so perfectly and without doubt to believe in Jesus Christ, our Lord and our God, that our faith may never be found wanting in your sight; through him who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
Don't forget to bake your meat pies!
Bunnie Diehl has tagged me to list give random facts about myself. This is a poor choice on her part, because there is no more boring subject to give 5 random facts about oneself than I, and yet nonetheless here I am giving in to vanity for the sake of all two of our readers:
1.) My favorite Christmas video (and second favorite Christmas story) is A Child's Christmas in Wales.
2.) When in high school, I passed off my freshman English teacher as 33rd in line to the throne of England. I must confess it caused a sensation, but I was dealing with honor students there. Bright people, but not very smart.
3.) While young, I scored very high on the geek meter by writing a longish story around the Battle of Brunanburh. It was awful. (The story that is. I suppose the battle was awful too, but as it didn't exist then, the English language was not slaughtered in the battle. It certainly was in the story.)
4.) I never had my teenage rebellion. I think I'm saving it for my 40's.
5.) I can milk a cow.
As for tagging other people, I'm always the person who breaks the chain mail chain, so perhaps I 'll do it here as well, although if Singin' in DC wants to oblige, I'm sure we will all be entertained.
1.) My favorite Christmas video (and second favorite Christmas story) is A Child's Christmas in Wales.
2.) When in high school, I passed off my freshman English teacher as 33rd in line to the throne of England. I must confess it caused a sensation, but I was dealing with honor students there. Bright people, but not very smart.
3.) While young, I scored very high on the geek meter by writing a longish story around the Battle of Brunanburh. It was awful. (The story that is. I suppose the battle was awful too, but as it didn't exist then, the English language was not slaughtered in the battle. It certainly was in the story.)
4.) I never had my teenage rebellion. I think I'm saving it for my 40's.
5.) I can milk a cow.
As for tagging other people, I'm always the person who breaks the chain mail chain, so perhaps I 'll do it here as well, although if Singin' in DC wants to oblige, I'm sure we will all be entertained.
O Clavis David
O Clavis David,
et sceptrum domus Israël,
qui aperis, et nemo claudit,
claudis, et nemo aperuit:
veni, et educ vinctum
de domo carceris,
sedentem in tenebris,
et umbra mortis.
O Key of David,
and scepter of the house of Israel,
you open, and no one shuts,
you shut, and no one opens:
come, and lead the prisoner
from jail.
seated in darkness
and in the shadow of death.
O Clavis David,
et sceptrum domus Israël,
qui aperis, et nemo claudit,
claudis, et nemo aperuit:
veni, et educ vinctum
de domo carceris,
sedentem in tenebris,
et umbra mortis.
O Key of David,
and scepter of the house of Israel,
you open, and no one shuts,
you shut, and no one opens:
come, and lead the prisoner
from jail.
seated in darkness
and in the shadow of death.
Monday, December 19, 2005
O Radix Jesse
O Radix Jesse,
qui stas in signum populorum,
super quem continebunt reges os suum,
quem gentes deprecabuntur:
veni ad liberandum nos,
jam noli tardare
O Root of Jesse,
who stand as a sign for the people,
kings stand silent in your presence,
whom the nations will worship:
come to set us free,
put it off no longer.
O Radix Jesse,
qui stas in signum populorum,
super quem continebunt reges os suum,
quem gentes deprecabuntur:
veni ad liberandum nos,
jam noli tardare
O Root of Jesse,
who stand as a sign for the people,
kings stand silent in your presence,
whom the nations will worship:
come to set us free,
put it off no longer.
Sunday, December 18, 2005
O Adonai
O Adonai,
et dux domus Israël,
qui Moyse in igne flammae rubi apparuisti,
et ei in Sina legem dedisti:
veni ad redimendum nos in brachio extento.
O Mighty Lord,
and leader of the house of Israël,
who appeared to Moses in the burning bush,
and on Sinai gave him the law,
come to redeem us with outstretched arm.
O Adonai,
et dux domus Israël,
qui Moyse in igne flammae rubi apparuisti,
et ei in Sina legem dedisti:
veni ad redimendum nos in brachio extento.
O Mighty Lord,
and leader of the house of Israël,
who appeared to Moses in the burning bush,
and on Sinai gave him the law,
come to redeem us with outstretched arm.
Saturday, December 17, 2005
O Sapientia
O Sapientia,
quae ex ore Altissimi prodiisti,
attingens a fine usque ad finem fortiter,
suaviterque disponens omnia:
veni ad docendum nos viam prudentiae.
O Wisdom,
who proceeds from the mouth of the Most High,
reaching out mightily from end to end,
and sweetly arranging all things:
come to teach us the way of prudence.
O Sapientia,
quae ex ore Altissimi prodiisti,
attingens a fine usque ad finem fortiter,
suaviterque disponens omnia:
veni ad docendum nos viam prudentiae.
O Wisdom,
who proceeds from the mouth of the Most High,
reaching out mightily from end to end,
and sweetly arranging all things:
come to teach us the way of prudence.
O my! O Antiphons!
December 17th is the traditional start date for the Great O Antiphons of Advent. What are the Great O Antiphons? Good question!
Let's start with what an antiphon is. An antiphon is "a refrain-like verse from Scripture that begins and concludes a psalm or canticle. Sometimes it is also interspersed within a psalm. " Or so claims the LCMS Liturgical Dictionary. The church music kids writing on Wikipedia give a more comprehensive definition, and point out that antiphon is essentially "a response, usually sung in Gregorian chant, to a psalm or some other part of a religious service, such as at Vespers or at a Mass."
The Great O Antiphons are the seven antiphons recited or chanted before and after—although such are standards these days that often they're chanted only before—the singing of the Magnificat during Vespers (Evening Service). If you want to be extra solemn about it, you can chant the antiphons 3 times, "once before the canticle and before and after the Gloria Patri." The Great O Antiphons are sung on the days leading up to Christmas, starting on the 17th of Dec and ending on the 23rd. (The liturgically inclined Roman Catholics know this as "the Octave before Christmas.") The Anglicans got it in their heads at some point to start O Antiphoning on the 16th of December, but I really can't be responsible for what the Anglicans do, can I?
No one knows how old the O Antiphons are. Apparently Boethius (c. 480-524), when he wasn't consoling himself with philosophy, mentioned them. Others say by the 8th or 9th century they were being used in worship in Rome. Still others give props to Gregory the Great. But no matter really, what is clear is that the Great O Antiphons have been part of the liturgical celebration of Advent since the early church.
There are actually divers O Antiphons, but "by the end of the Middle Ages their number had been almost universally fixed at seven, the key words of which, when reversed in order, form an acrostic that beautifully fits the Advent season: "Ero cras"-"I shall be tomorrow."" Except in England, which as an island didn't get the message from Continent in time, so they went with eight antiphons and the acrostic "vero cras", which shows you that either they weren't so hot with the Latin or with the acrostics. (This is why the Anglicans start the O Antiphons on the 16th, so they can fit their last one, "O Virgo Virginum" in on the 23rd. (I'm still not responsible for what the Anglicans do.))
And now let me quote some more from someone who sounds like he knows what he's talking about:
"The importance of “O Antiphons” is twofold: Each one highlights a title for the Messiah: O Sapientia (O Wisdom), O Adonai (O Lord), O Radix Jesse (O Root of Jesse), O Clavis David (O Key of David), O Oriens (O Rising Sun), O Rex Gentium (O King of the Nations), and O Emmanuel. Also, each one refers to the prophecy of Isaiah of the coming of the Messiah."
You think you don't know the O? Actually, you probably do. That clever clogs, John Mason Neale, popped them all into a hymn known as "O come, O come, Emmanuel." If you've ever sung that, you've sung the O Antiphons.
So there you have it: the dealio with the O. I shall post one each day, but I promise I shan't add anything beyond the scripture references. You don't need me to give thoughts on the texts O Antiphons. You do some thinking for yourself.
And so, as the monks used to say to each other: "Keep the O!" (No really they did. I'm not making that up.)
The interesting and literate bits of the above come from "The Great O Antiphons of Advent" by Carl Schalk and "What Are the ’O Antiphons’?" by Fr. William Saunders. The annoying bits are solely mine.
December 17th is the traditional start date for the Great O Antiphons of Advent. What are the Great O Antiphons? Good question!
Let's start with what an antiphon is. An antiphon is "a refrain-like verse from Scripture that begins and concludes a psalm or canticle. Sometimes it is also interspersed within a psalm. " Or so claims the LCMS Liturgical Dictionary. The church music kids writing on Wikipedia give a more comprehensive definition, and point out that antiphon is essentially "a response, usually sung in Gregorian chant, to a psalm or some other part of a religious service, such as at Vespers or at a Mass."
The Great O Antiphons are the seven antiphons recited or chanted before and after—although such are standards these days that often they're chanted only before—the singing of the Magnificat during Vespers (Evening Service). If you want to be extra solemn about it, you can chant the antiphons 3 times, "once before the canticle and before and after the Gloria Patri." The Great O Antiphons are sung on the days leading up to Christmas, starting on the 17th of Dec and ending on the 23rd. (The liturgically inclined Roman Catholics know this as "the Octave before Christmas.") The Anglicans got it in their heads at some point to start O Antiphoning on the 16th of December, but I really can't be responsible for what the Anglicans do, can I?
No one knows how old the O Antiphons are. Apparently Boethius (c. 480-524), when he wasn't consoling himself with philosophy, mentioned them. Others say by the 8th or 9th century they were being used in worship in Rome. Still others give props to Gregory the Great. But no matter really, what is clear is that the Great O Antiphons have been part of the liturgical celebration of Advent since the early church.
There are actually divers O Antiphons, but "by the end of the Middle Ages their number had been almost universally fixed at seven, the key words of which, when reversed in order, form an acrostic that beautifully fits the Advent season: "Ero cras"-"I shall be tomorrow."" Except in England, which as an island didn't get the message from Continent in time, so they went with eight antiphons and the acrostic "vero cras", which shows you that either they weren't so hot with the Latin or with the acrostics. (This is why the Anglicans start the O Antiphons on the 16th, so they can fit their last one, "O Virgo Virginum" in on the 23rd. (I'm still not responsible for what the Anglicans do.))
And now let me quote some more from someone who sounds like he knows what he's talking about:
"The importance of “O Antiphons” is twofold: Each one highlights a title for the Messiah: O Sapientia (O Wisdom), O Adonai (O Lord), O Radix Jesse (O Root of Jesse), O Clavis David (O Key of David), O Oriens (O Rising Sun), O Rex Gentium (O King of the Nations), and O Emmanuel. Also, each one refers to the prophecy of Isaiah of the coming of the Messiah."
You think you don't know the O? Actually, you probably do. That clever clogs, John Mason Neale, popped them all into a hymn known as "O come, O come, Emmanuel." If you've ever sung that, you've sung the O Antiphons.
So there you have it: the dealio with the O. I shall post one each day, but I promise I shan't add anything beyond the scripture references. You don't need me to give thoughts on the texts O Antiphons. You do some thinking for yourself.
And so, as the monks used to say to each other: "Keep the O!" (No really they did. I'm not making that up.)
The interesting and literate bits of the above come from "The Great O Antiphons of Advent" by Carl Schalk and "What Are the ’O Antiphons’?" by Fr. William Saunders. The annoying bits are solely mine.
Friday, December 16, 2005
Thursday, December 15, 2005
The Second Vermont Republic
...which seems to be pretty much the same assortment of nuts the first one was.
If this article from the Buchanite/Libertarian/Green/Wacko part of the political spectrum doesn't bring the Doc out of his early winter hibernation, what the hell will?
...which seems to be pretty much the same assortment of nuts the first one was.
If this article from the Buchanite/Libertarian/Green/Wacko part of the political spectrum doesn't bring the Doc out of his early winter hibernation, what the hell will?
Dawkins Craftier Then Dennett
So Richard Dawkins, Oxford Village Atheist, got interviewed by Beliefnet. (Heh. How he must have cringed and curled his lip at their name.) The result is all pretty much standard Dawkins' stuff: since I am a scientist, I have the priestly authority to say that you are an idiot for being religious, blah, blah. Also much use of the argumentum ad Herculeum, ie., "I'm tougher and stronger than you, wimp, because I can deal with the universe as it is." Standard stuff.
But I thought this was rather clever of the old rogue:
Is atheism the logical extension of believing in evolution?
They clearly can’t be irrevocably linked because a very large number of theologians believe in evolution. In fact, any respectable theologian of the Catholic or Anglican or any other sensible church believes in evolution. Similarly, a very large number of evolutionary scientists are also religious. My personal feeling is that understanding evolution led me to atheism.
Why is this clever? Because of this chortle-inducing episode recounted on the excellent First Things blog by Stephen Barr, professor of physics at the University of Delaware.
The philosopher Daniel Dennett visited us at the University of Delaware a few weeks ago and gave a public lecture entitled “Darwin, Meaning, Truth, and Morality"... Dennett claimed that Darwin had shredded the credibility of religion and was, indeed, the very “destroyer” of God. In the question session, philosophy professor Jeff Jordan made the following observation to Dennett, “If Darwinism is inherently atheistic, as you say, then obviously it can’t be taught in public schools.” “And why is that?” inquired Dennett, incredulous. “Because,” said Jordan, “the Supreme Court has held that the Constitution guarantees government neutrality between religion and irreligion.” Dennett, looking as if he’d been sucker-punched, leaned back against the wall, and said, after a few moments of silence, “clever.” After another silence, he came up with a reply: He had not meant to say that evolution logically entails atheism, merely that it undercuts religion.
Jeff Jordan’s question underlines how the self-appointed defenders of the scientific method are trying to have it both ways. Don’t allow religious philosophy to intrude into biology classrooms and texts, they say, for that is to soil the sacred precincts of science, which must be reserved for hypotheses that can be rigorously tested and confronted with data. The next minute they are going around claiming that anti-religious philosophy is part and parcel of the scientific viewpoint.
You see? Dawkins' doesn't let himself fall into the trap that Dennett does; but, as Barr points out, both Dawkins and Dennett want to have it both ways. Dawkins is just cleverer about it.
Barr also makes the very useful comment about the real world of academia, rather than the caricature that Dawkins and Dennett and bad journalism have created:
One of the glories of science is that people come together to do it who have all sorts of religious beliefs, philosophical views, cultural backgrounds, and political opinions. But as scientists they speak the same language. It is a wonderful fellowship. I have written research papers with colleagues (and friends) who are fierce atheists and think my Catholic beliefs are for the birds, and they know that I think their atheism is for the birds. Yet we respect each other as scientists. People like Dennett who wish to equate science with their own philosophical views (presumably out of vanity) risk doing immeasurable harm both to science itself and to its prestige. He is entitled to his philosophical opinions, but he is not entitled to claim them as the utterances of Science.
So Richard Dawkins, Oxford Village Atheist, got interviewed by Beliefnet. (Heh. How he must have cringed and curled his lip at their name.) The result is all pretty much standard Dawkins' stuff: since I am a scientist, I have the priestly authority to say that you are an idiot for being religious, blah, blah. Also much use of the argumentum ad Herculeum, ie., "I'm tougher and stronger than you, wimp, because I can deal with the universe as it is." Standard stuff.
But I thought this was rather clever of the old rogue:
Is atheism the logical extension of believing in evolution?
They clearly can’t be irrevocably linked because a very large number of theologians believe in evolution. In fact, any respectable theologian of the Catholic or Anglican or any other sensible church believes in evolution. Similarly, a very large number of evolutionary scientists are also religious. My personal feeling is that understanding evolution led me to atheism.
Why is this clever? Because of this chortle-inducing episode recounted on the excellent First Things blog by Stephen Barr, professor of physics at the University of Delaware.
The philosopher Daniel Dennett visited us at the University of Delaware a few weeks ago and gave a public lecture entitled “Darwin, Meaning, Truth, and Morality"... Dennett claimed that Darwin had shredded the credibility of religion and was, indeed, the very “destroyer” of God. In the question session, philosophy professor Jeff Jordan made the following observation to Dennett, “If Darwinism is inherently atheistic, as you say, then obviously it can’t be taught in public schools.” “And why is that?” inquired Dennett, incredulous. “Because,” said Jordan, “the Supreme Court has held that the Constitution guarantees government neutrality between religion and irreligion.” Dennett, looking as if he’d been sucker-punched, leaned back against the wall, and said, after a few moments of silence, “clever.” After another silence, he came up with a reply: He had not meant to say that evolution logically entails atheism, merely that it undercuts religion.
Jeff Jordan’s question underlines how the self-appointed defenders of the scientific method are trying to have it both ways. Don’t allow religious philosophy to intrude into biology classrooms and texts, they say, for that is to soil the sacred precincts of science, which must be reserved for hypotheses that can be rigorously tested and confronted with data. The next minute they are going around claiming that anti-religious philosophy is part and parcel of the scientific viewpoint.
You see? Dawkins' doesn't let himself fall into the trap that Dennett does; but, as Barr points out, both Dawkins and Dennett want to have it both ways. Dawkins is just cleverer about it.
Barr also makes the very useful comment about the real world of academia, rather than the caricature that Dawkins and Dennett and bad journalism have created:
One of the glories of science is that people come together to do it who have all sorts of religious beliefs, philosophical views, cultural backgrounds, and political opinions. But as scientists they speak the same language. It is a wonderful fellowship. I have written research papers with colleagues (and friends) who are fierce atheists and think my Catholic beliefs are for the birds, and they know that I think their atheism is for the birds. Yet we respect each other as scientists. People like Dennett who wish to equate science with their own philosophical views (presumably out of vanity) risk doing immeasurable harm both to science itself and to its prestige. He is entitled to his philosophical opinions, but he is not entitled to claim them as the utterances of Science.
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Goodness Gracious!
...as the Secretary of Defense would say, doubtless while mentally subsituting some Navy oaths he learned back when he was flying off a carrier.
The Ombudsman had literally no idea he would stir up a hornet's nest when he made some mild comments re Christmas and Megachurches. I mean, the Ombudsman is a weak violet who flinches from the brisk give-and-take over at Bunnie Diehl's. He does not have well-developed canines; he does not believe that truth is necessarily on his side because it is his side; only once in while does the Ombudsman have a right to his opinions. [Ed.-Then why the hell are you blogging? Good question! Note that I haven't been doing it much!]
So I am surprised, and I guess it is because people can't parse distinctions. Me, I am willing to blame it on email and blogging...somehow they are mediums that encourage inattention. Let me therefore say it plainly. Megachurch members are not evil...megachurch pastors are not evil. They are, even, Christian brothers and sisters of mine. That does not mean they can't do silly things, and do them for all the wrong reasons.
Look, it goes beyond the whole Christ-mas argument. (You made your point, Bunnie. Now move on, or find another argumentum ad somethingorother.) It is profoundly a question of Christian discipleship. I note that a favorite culture-war gambit this season are protests against saying "Happy Holidays" instead of "Christmas"; or protests at Target because they do not allow Salvation Army bell-ringers on their property. These protests are attempts to, I believe, make it clear that the commercial extravaganza that now begins just after Halloween is really, truly, Christian...kind of.
Well, if the best we can do for the Faith is grab hold of those enormous inflatable plastic lawn ornament snowglobes with the happy snowman inside, or the "Grinch" Holiday Special, and shout "This is about Jesus!", then count me out. I'm not interested. Wal-Mart can own that holiday season, if that's the case.
It seems to me that the best thing to do to reclaim Christmas as Christmas is to worship...
...as the Secretary of Defense would say, doubtless while mentally subsituting some Navy oaths he learned back when he was flying off a carrier.
The Ombudsman had literally no idea he would stir up a hornet's nest when he made some mild comments re Christmas and Megachurches. I mean, the Ombudsman is a weak violet who flinches from the brisk give-and-take over at Bunnie Diehl's. He does not have well-developed canines; he does not believe that truth is necessarily on his side because it is his side; only once in while does the Ombudsman have a right to his opinions. [Ed.-Then why the hell are you blogging? Good question! Note that I haven't been doing it much!]
So I am surprised, and I guess it is because people can't parse distinctions. Me, I am willing to blame it on email and blogging...somehow they are mediums that encourage inattention. Let me therefore say it plainly. Megachurch members are not evil...megachurch pastors are not evil. They are, even, Christian brothers and sisters of mine. That does not mean they can't do silly things, and do them for all the wrong reasons.
Look, it goes beyond the whole Christ-mas argument. (You made your point, Bunnie. Now move on, or find another argumentum ad somethingorother.) It is profoundly a question of Christian discipleship. I note that a favorite culture-war gambit this season are protests against saying "Happy Holidays" instead of "Christmas"; or protests at Target because they do not allow Salvation Army bell-ringers on their property. These protests are attempts to, I believe, make it clear that the commercial extravaganza that now begins just after Halloween is really, truly, Christian...kind of.
Well, if the best we can do for the Faith is grab hold of those enormous inflatable plastic lawn ornament snowglobes with the happy snowman inside, or the "Grinch" Holiday Special, and shout "This is about Jesus!", then count me out. I'm not interested. Wal-Mart can own that holiday season, if that's the case.
It seems to me that the best thing to do to reclaim Christmas as Christmas is to worship...
Holiday Shopping Tips!
When in doubt, there's always Che-Mart! That's where Che Guevara, "world's greatest T-shirt salesman", has many designs to suit your whim and fancy.
My favorite, I think, is "My parents paid for college tuition and all I got was this Che Guevara t-shirt".
When in doubt, there's always Che-Mart! That's where Che Guevara, "world's greatest T-shirt salesman", has many designs to suit your whim and fancy.
My favorite, I think, is "My parents paid for college tuition and all I got was this Che Guevara t-shirt".
Thursday, December 08, 2005
No Church on Christmas
The wonderful Bunnie Diehl and her readers have gone off on a tear, viz., "...Megachurch People are Evil", blah, blah, blah. The Very Cheerful "Singin' in DC" at Songs for Frogshas registered what she refers to as "Liturgical Rant #1" in outrage at Megachurches. "The thing about Christmas," she cybersnarls between clenched electronic teeth, "is that it is about *Christ* and *mass*, gathering together to celebrate the birth of the infant Jesus in Bethlehem." [And, goodness, maybe "Singin'" should not only come up with a new handle (I mean to say, really) but start a Liturgical blog with Bunnie and the Style Editor...it would be like the Three Liturgical Horsewomen of the Apocalypse.]
What is the reason for this outrage? Some Megachurches, you see, are cancelling Christmas. That is, they are not having service on Sunday, December 25th, because it's...Christmas. It takes a lot of people to put on a Megachurch Extravaganza, you see. Hundreds. And on a holiday, shouldn't they be allowed to be home with their families?
Lee over at Verbum Ipsum wonders, if they aren't having services because the unchurched won't show up for Christmas, well, "'reach[ing] the unchurched' is presumably not an end in itself is it? I mean, once you've got them what do you do with them? The whole point can't be to reach the unchurched "seeker"; you have to be reaching them for something."
Well, not to be blase and cynical about it all, but colour the Ombudsman unsurprised, kids. I mean, let me flick off some dust from my impeccable Mechlin lace and 'splain things. No, "reaching the unchurched" is the telos of the Megachurch. Indeed, Megachurches are not really churches so much as they are businesses designed for the purposes of evangelism. Note comments by Willow Creek that "church leaders decided that organizing services on a Christmas Sunday would not be the most effective use of staff and volunteer resources". Effective use of staf and volunteer resources...man, if that ain't B-School Talk, what is?
My only problem with this argument is that all the other Big Box Stores will be open for business on Christmas Day! Of course they will, we have to be able to make a return! So when are the Holy Big Boxes going to realize that viability and maintainence of their Brand requires them to utilize resources for Customer Interaction on December 25th? Couldn't they at least have some people to pray with people who stop by and want their money back?
The wonderful Bunnie Diehl and her readers have gone off on a tear, viz., "...Megachurch People are Evil", blah, blah, blah. The Very Cheerful "Singin' in DC" at Songs for Frogshas registered what she refers to as "Liturgical Rant #1" in outrage at Megachurches. "The thing about Christmas," she cybersnarls between clenched electronic teeth, "is that it is about *Christ* and *mass*, gathering together to celebrate the birth of the infant Jesus in Bethlehem." [And, goodness, maybe "Singin'" should not only come up with a new handle (I mean to say, really) but start a Liturgical blog with Bunnie and the Style Editor...it would be like the Three Liturgical Horsewomen of the Apocalypse.]
What is the reason for this outrage? Some Megachurches, you see, are cancelling Christmas. That is, they are not having service on Sunday, December 25th, because it's...Christmas. It takes a lot of people to put on a Megachurch Extravaganza, you see. Hundreds. And on a holiday, shouldn't they be allowed to be home with their families?
Lee over at Verbum Ipsum wonders, if they aren't having services because the unchurched won't show up for Christmas, well, "'reach[ing] the unchurched' is presumably not an end in itself is it? I mean, once you've got them what do you do with them? The whole point can't be to reach the unchurched "seeker"; you have to be reaching them for something."
Well, not to be blase and cynical about it all, but colour the Ombudsman unsurprised, kids. I mean, let me flick off some dust from my impeccable Mechlin lace and 'splain things. No, "reaching the unchurched" is the telos of the Megachurch. Indeed, Megachurches are not really churches so much as they are businesses designed for the purposes of evangelism. Note comments by Willow Creek that "church leaders decided that organizing services on a Christmas Sunday would not be the most effective use of staff and volunteer resources". Effective use of staf and volunteer resources...man, if that ain't B-School Talk, what is?
My only problem with this argument is that all the other Big Box Stores will be open for business on Christmas Day! Of course they will, we have to be able to make a return! So when are the Holy Big Boxes going to realize that viability and maintainence of their Brand requires them to utilize resources for Customer Interaction on December 25th? Couldn't they at least have some people to pray with people who stop by and want their money back?
The Comedy of Life
So you're a professor at UC Berkeley. You are walking into your office. And there are a couple of students involved in the Act of Eros; they are in flagrante delicto, as those of us with a smattering of the classics would say; they are caught in the carnal clench, tupping away like sheep in the spring, as Brigadier Sir Harry Flashman, VC might put.
I mean, I wish I can make this stuff up, but I'm not clever enough. Hey, and those of us who put Doctor Curmudgeon & Co. on their Lutheran blog roll? Just hope you have a good Lutheran earthy sense of humor, OK? You, too, mother.
Also I note with chortles of pleasure and guffaws of glee a real-life "Dead Parrot Sketch", via the misfortune and frustration of Verity at Albion's Seedlings. Verity, you see, wants to move to India; and apparently they don't allow any foreigners to own land there. And they can't really believe that anyone would want to be an Indian citizen.
So that results in problems for Verity and comedy for us, don't you see?
[Ed.: What do you think of these Anglosphere chaps, anyhow? Ombud: [shiftily] Well, er, nice folk, um...[inspired] why don't you ask the Doc? They like Albion's Seed, you know. Ed.: [with a frown] Isn't that the book you have agreed not to discuss lest your friendship be ended? Ombud.: That's the one! Though, mind, he has almost convinced me of his point. That, and reading primary sources.]
So you're a professor at UC Berkeley. You are walking into your office. And there are a couple of students involved in the Act of Eros; they are in flagrante delicto, as those of us with a smattering of the classics would say; they are caught in the carnal clench, tupping away like sheep in the spring, as Brigadier Sir Harry Flashman, VC might put.
I mean, I wish I can make this stuff up, but I'm not clever enough. Hey, and those of us who put Doctor Curmudgeon & Co. on their Lutheran blog roll? Just hope you have a good Lutheran earthy sense of humor, OK? You, too, mother.
Also I note with chortles of pleasure and guffaws of glee a real-life "Dead Parrot Sketch", via the misfortune and frustration of Verity at Albion's Seedlings. Verity, you see, wants to move to India; and apparently they don't allow any foreigners to own land there. And they can't really believe that anyone would want to be an Indian citizen.
So that results in problems for Verity and comedy for us, don't you see?
[Ed.: What do you think of these Anglosphere chaps, anyhow? Ombud: [shiftily] Well, er, nice folk, um...[inspired] why don't you ask the Doc? They like Albion's Seed, you know. Ed.: [with a frown] Isn't that the book you have agreed not to discuss lest your friendship be ended? Ombud.: That's the one! Though, mind, he has almost convinced me of his point. That, and reading primary sources.]
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