Censoring Faith

There's a report on the BBC today about Wayne Rooney, the Manchester United striker who looks like a club bouncer but plays like most of us can only dream. Despite injury, Rooney scored 26 goals in the Premier League last season. He is the hammer upon which the England team has placed its hopes.

Recently a reporter noticed that Rooney was wearing beads during a training session - rosary beads. When he was asked about this he simply replied, "It's my religion." So, Rooney is a Catholic. It makes sense. He is from Liverpool, one of the areas settled most heavily by Irish immigrants during the Victorian era. Merseyside has more Catholics, in relation to population, than the rest of the UK. Rooney was obviously not particularly bothered by the question; his answer was almost a shrug - "I'm a Catholic. What of it?" But when the reporter made to ask a follow up question, a press officer for the Football Association stepped in. "We don't do religion," he said. And that was the end of the conversation.

How come? When did the FA gain the right to silence people? What is so awful about Wayne Rooney's religious choice that it must remain private? Given his notorious ill-temper, it's almost surprising that he didn't tell the official where he could put his censorship, but he did not. Perhaps it's time somebody did.

Looking at England from a distance, and not having lived there for almost seventeen years, it seems to me that religion (or, at least, Christianity) has become more marginalized over the years. It's not illegal to believe, but it is illegal (in some respects) to bring your faith into the public square. It is not possible to express opinions about the uniqueness of Christ, or the call to holiness of life, or the unacceptability of certain lifestyles, without incurring the wrath of the authorities. Tolerance has been elevated to the highest, some would say the only, virtue. Therefore, any statement that implies exclusivity or questions perceived standards is outlawed. Is this 1984?

Back to Wayne Rooney, the contrast with the US is shocking. US athletes sometimes talk too much about their faith. No one tries to silence them. But, earlier this year, it was deemed inappropriate for college football players to display Bible texts on the black lines they paint beneath their eyes. What is next? Will we soon be seeing a "don't ask - don't tell" policy for Christians?

Maybe it's time for the Wayne Rooneys of this world to refuse to be silenced.

Best Church in Town ?

We had visitors at church on Sunday. A recently retired minister from the North West and his wife were doing the grand tour and, somehow, they ended up in Brazosport. So, they came to worship with us at the traditional service. It was a pleasure to meet them. Lake Jackson isn't really on the tourist trail, except for those who like to visit chemical facilities. It turns out that the minister and his wife had a bit of trouble finding us. Actually, they were told that there were no churches in our area.

Apparently, they inquired at the front desk at their hotel. Could they provide a list of local churches? Of course! Whereupon the clerk supplied a list of 'Church's Chicken's,' which is a popular fast food franchise. So the wife insisted - no, she was looking for a place of worship, somewhere where she could gather with other Christians. But the clerk had no idea what she was being asked for, "I don't think we have any of those in our area," she said.

Now, I've nothing against Church's Chicken, in fact I enjoy going there once in a while. I do worry about someone needing a list of fast food restaurants. Do they need to check them all out? But I worry a great deal more about the clerk, and about the witness of the hundreds of churches in our area. Are we invisible?

The Maytrees

I've always enjoyed Annie Dillard's writing. I read "Pilgrim at Tinker Creek" in the late Seventies. She's an intelligent and interesting writer (the two do not always go together), even if, sometimes, she is a little arcane. Frankly, there are passages in The Maytrees over which I simply shook my head. It's not just that the terminology is alien - I can cope with that, I just ignore it, as I do when reading from Patrick O'Brian's smorgasbord of seventeenth century life at sea - it's more that Dillard piles up language in heaps until the sense is smothered. It's still beautiful, but in spite of the words, not because of them. She also has a tendency to tell you what she has been reading, dropping names like a gate-crasher at a party of the rich and famous. Then, suddenly, in the midst of some great debate, usually going on in a character's head, a snatch of quirky prose or a seeemingly random idea catches you unaware. At one point Lou, the main female character is discussing religion with herself. She asks herself why she had never bothered to become a Buddhist. her answer, "High blood pressure. Have you seen how fat Buddha is?" Humor saves Dillard on a number of occasions, when she is in danger of becoming unbearably high-brow, one might almost say 'pompous.' But it doesn't always save her.

The Maytrees is the story of a man and a woman, residents of Cape Cod in the years following the Second World War, who fall for one another. Fireworks follow. The man, Toby, is a poet-cum-housemover. The woman, Lou, doesn't do very much at all, but she paints the sea-shore every now and then. They are blissfully happy, reading 300 books a year, between them. Then Toby displays the stupidity of his sex. He runs off with another woman. For twenty years he avoids his old hometown, his wife and son, until events conspire to send him home. There are two death scenes towards the end of the book that are beautifully written. In both, raw realism is counterbalanced by mature reflection. The book is worth reading, if only for these passages. There is much to admire in Annie Dillard's writing.

And yet, I regret that she did not allow any of her characters to speak of faith, or of the wonder of creation. Their's is a flat land, populated only by thought, albeit profound. In a brief discussion of religion, Lou dismisses Christianity with disdain (and not a little prejudice). Later in the story, a break appears in the monolithic modernism. It is noted that the later Wittgenstein moves beyond dull empiricism to the neglected handmaiden of philosophy - metaphysics. But no sooner is the door opened than it is slammed shut. No room here for contemplating the divine. The legends of the Mayans and of the Aleuts may illustrate the circumstances of their broken lives, but there is no room for a Hebrew.

It makes me wonder, is this deliberate? Is Annie Dillard simply demonstrating the prejudice of the cultural elite, looking everywhere for meaning except to Christianity? Or, is she hoping that we will notice the omission, and go looking for ourselves? I'd like to think the latter, though I'm not altogether sure. And if this is what she is about, then she may need to plant more obvious signposts along the way.

The Maytrees is a good story, and it is (mostly) beautifully written; but if it points, at all, to a solution to the meaninglessness and emptiness of the lives she portrays, then it does so only by silence, and that is seldom enough.

La Mauvaise Vie

There is some interesting, and stomach churning, news going the rounds today. The French Minister of Culture, Frederic Mitterand, nephew of the late President, has been expressing his support for Roman Polanski. You may recall that Polanski was arrested the other week, in Switzerland, and is awaiting extradition to the United States, where he faces charges of having had unlawful relations with a 13 year old girl. He admits the charges. The incident happened in 1977 and ever since Polanski has avoided the US, or states from which he might have faced extradition. It's been a little nauseating to see Hollywood come out in support of the film maker. Apparently they think it is mean-spirited of the United States to attempt to send Polanski to trial, after all these years. Surely some kind of settlement could be arranged?

Mitterand's involvement may be a poisoned chalice for Polanski. The former TV presenter, documentary maker, and writer, who was appointed as culture minister in June of this year, wrote a book in 2005 called The Bad Life. The title is apt, because in it, Mitterand describes his passion for young, male prostitutes in Thailand. This comes at a time when the French and Thai governments are working together on ways to combat sex tourism.

So, here's a guy who admits to the exploitation of underage children, supporting a famous film-maker who also abused a child. Mitterand describes the actions of the United States, in its attempts to bring Polanski to justice, as "callous and horrifying." Humm!

And so the godless continue to stand morality on its head, calling darkness light while condemning the truth. Here's a thought, though - what would the press and the pampered movie stars have said, if the paedophiles had been priests?

The irony is, of course, that if the Hate Crimes amendment, which has been added to the Defense Appropriations Bill, is approved, and if "sexual orientation" remains undefined, then paedophiles may find protection under law, even in the Land of the Free.

Dead Men Rise Up Never

Proserpine - by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Jack London has a tale, from his youth, of going to sea on the Sophie Sutherland, a three-topmast schooner, seal hunting off the coast of Japan. London tells of a fellow-sailor, an unpleasant man known only as "The Bricklayer" who died and was buried at sea, with "a gunnysack, half full of galley coal... fastened to his feet." Against naval tradition, the seventeen year-old Jack London took over his recently-departed colleague's bunk. His other shipmates warned him that the Bricklayer would not be pleased. He would come back to haunt the lad.

Then, on an ugly night, Jack was startled to see an ominous shape on deck, near the spot where the Bricklayer had been tipped over the side. Intellectually, he could not fathom what he was seeing. Was it a spectre, risen from the deep? Surely, "dead men rise up never." Finally, after an agony of self-doubt, Jack plucked up the courage to confront the ghoul, only to find himself face to face with an equally terrified Newfoundland dog.

The title of Jack London's short story (later purloined by others) comes from Swinburne:

From too much love of living,

From hope and fear set free,

We thank with brief thanksgiving

Whatever gods may be

That no man lives forever

That dead men rise up never

That even the weariest river

Winds somewhere safe to sea.

The Garden of Proserpine: A.G.Swinburne 1866

Is it true, though, that "dead men rise up never'? Ernst Troelsch, the German sociologist, had an unsophisticated answer to this question. His response is typical of many today. Troelsch argued that, since dead men do not rise, Jesus Christ could not have risen from the dead. And that's the end of that. The central pillar of Christianity is swept away, by fiat. Troelsch simply declares, like David Hume before him, that resurrection just does not happen. Since there is no evidence of dead men rising in our experience, it follows that no dead men have ever risen, or ever shall.

What are we to make of this argument, given that, as Paul says, "if Christ is not risen we are, of all men, most to be pitied" (I Corinthians 15:19)? Wolfhart Pannenberg points out that Troelsch takes a very dogmatic approach to the question of resurrection. Based upon his presuppositions, Troelsch dictates what can and cannot happen. According to Troelsch, and a horde of modern disciples, the question of resurrection is non-sensical. It does not happen today and it did not happen 2,000 years ago.

Troelsch's argument is based upon inductive reasoning, moving from a particular example to a general rule. The particular example he chooses is his own experience. He then proceeds to draw his conclusion based upon his chosen premise. This is obviously unsatisfactory. Observation cannot eliminate the possibility of resurrection, it can only establish probability.

If "dead men rise up never," how do we account for the witness of the New Testament? It cannot be wish-fulfillment, given that the devastated disciples were in no fit state to create the fiction. Neither would they have been prepared to suffer so cruelly for an obvious untruth. Could it not be that the bodily resurrection of Jesus provides the best explanation of the events? Often, it seems, our response to the empty tomb tells us more about ourselves than we imagine. Secular people give a secular response. But Christians tend not to be so concerned. We judge matters of life and death on the basis of what we know about Jesus, not the other way round, and certainly not on the basis of Troelsch's dogmatic metaphysical presuppositions.

We don't need to apologize for our faith. When our opponents dismiss the resurrection of Christ out of hand, they merely display secular fundamentalism. Swinburne's vision of the underworld was of a grey place without fear but also without hope. Is it wrong to hope for something better?

Doubting Doubt

A few weeks ago I read A.N.Wilson's splendid little book London: A Short History. This is really an architectural history of the capital city; I highly recommend it. I thought, at the time, that the author was not as scathing about London's spiritual heritage as I had expected. In fact, in places I found a wistful longing for the age of faith.

I had expected a tirade. Perhaps, like Ingersoll, Wilson would have lamented the ignorance displayed by a forest of steeples; or, like Cowper there would have been some oblique reference to "dark, satanic mills," that is, the non-conformist chapels of the early Victorian age. Instead I found Wilson praising Wren's efforts to rebuild London's churches following the Great Fire of 1666, or lamenting their loss during the Blitz. And this surprised me. Surely, this was the same A.N.Wilson who poured scorn on the Christian faith in God's Funeral, or ridiculed anti-intellectualism in Jesus: A Life?

Indeed, it was. An apologist for a post-Christian worldview, Wilson had moved from Anglicanism to Roman Catholicism to scepticism. His views were widely read and very influential. So, why didn't he take any potshots at Christians in London?

The answer may be that A.N.Wilson was in the process of returning to the Christian faith. According to an interesting article in the New Statesman, Wilson has now turned 180 degrees, and has decided that Christ is risen. He atrributes this to "the confidence I have gained with age."

Good for him. It takes courage to admit that you have been wrong. It was courageous of him, in the first place, to renounce the faith in which he had been raised, and to concentrate upon his doubts. Too many people do this as an excuse for their behavior. In Bertrand Russell's autobiography he admits that one of the reasons he rejected the Christian faith, as a student, was that it was easier for him to get girls that way (and, presumably, to ditch the guilt). I've come across any number of people who have suddenly had doubts at exactly the time that they are tempted to abandon Christian morality. It's strange that they often speak so fervently of intellectual struggles, whereas in reality the struggle usually had more to do with another part of their anatomy. The sadness is, of course, that once renounced it's hard to return. Hard, but not impossible, as A.N.Wilson has now proven.

Often, those who really do doubt the central tenets of the Christian faith (as opposed to those who say that they do for ulterior motives), grow tired of living within a system that seems to be made up, entirely, of negations. There may be something exhilerating about saying, "I think Christ died on the cross, and his bones are buried somewhere in Palestine!" But with what is the resurrection faith to be replaced? Like those Victorian secularists who returned to the faith of their youth, A.N.Wilson has grown tired of nihilistic atheism. Now he says that those who doubt God are like "people who have no ear for music or who have never been in love."

I hope that Wilson will write a book about his return to faith, and that he will take the time and trouble to counter the arguments he used in some of his earlier works. Now it's time for the Holy Spirit to work on a few others - like Bart Ehrman and Richard Dawkins. Could it be that the tide is beginning to turn, and that Dover Beach will soon be covered once again?

See New Statesman article http://www.newstatesman.com/religion/2009/04/conversion-experience-atheism

Also, more popular article in Britain's Daily Mail http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1169145/Religion-hatred-Why-longer-cowed-secular-zealots.html

And, for those who need it: Dover Beach by Matthew Arnold http://www.victorianweb.org/authors/arnold/writings/doverbeach.html

Remember the Sabbath Day

It's hard not to feel good for Aaron and Joe Crabtree, two little boys who have been signed by Blackburn Rovers (world's greatest football team etc. etc.) Just eight and seven years old, the brothers were spotted training with a junior team in the North West of England. Despite the fact that their father is a Manchester United supporter, the boys were persuaded to sign up for Rovers. They will wear the blue and white halves and hope against hope to stay the course long enough to play for the famous old club. I hope to read about Aaron playing a creative role in midfield, and his brother knocking in the goals as Blackburn take the Premier league by storm in about 2025.

However, I can't help noticing that, since signing, they will be required to join their teammates twice a week, and that they will play other academies on Sunday mornings. Now, I know that Christian Education does not need to be on Sunday mornings, and that worship can be held at other times, but I suspect that these little boys, and thousands like them, will grow up not knowing anything about the Gospel.

When I look back at the rich benefits that I enjoyed as a child as a result of attending church and Sunday School, and when I think about how valuable the experience has been for my own children, I can't help but feel sad for Aaron and Joe. You can learn a lot through sports. Playing on a team helps to develop some of the lifeskills that every child needs to be successful in life. But what about those issues that sport cannot address? Can soccer help when Grandma is taken deathly ill? Can Little League teach a relationship with God?

As the tide of secularism rises, we can no longer assume that the children of our community possess even the most basic knowledge of the Christian faith. The Bible stories and themes that permeate literature are completely unknown. Some time ago, during a pre-marriage counselling session, I made a reference to the story of David and Goliath. The bride-to-be had no idea what I was talking about. Last year I had the privilege of leading to Christ a young person who had never heard the word 'gospel.' And when I asked some cub scouts to name the disciples I got blank stares, until one urchin said "Moses?"

Now, I know that a relationship with God is not just about head-knowledge, but it must contain some knowledge, surely? "God" is an empty concept unless it is informed by the grand narrative of salvation. Either that, or "God" is understood through the lens of folk-religion, a mosaic of meaning that may entertain, but cannot save.

I doubt that the Christian Church will be successful in moving society back to such reverence for Sunday that the day (or at least the morning) will be reserved for worship and Christian Education. However, I do think that Christian parents should take the lead in speaking out against scheduling that assumes that worship is not a high priority. I think it also means that churches will need to be creative in offering quality educational opportunities at a variety of different times. Perhaps parents will also have to resume primary responsibility for teaching their children the fundamentals of the faith. Otherwise, if we are not careful, all we shall be raising will be a generation of extraordinarily healthy pagans.

Read about Aaron and Joe in the Manchester Evening News http://www.manchestereveningnews.co.uk/news/s/1112684__football_brothers_do_the_double