2015 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2015 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Sydney Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 15,000 times in 2015. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 6 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

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I think the most amazing statistic is that this was viewed from 101 countries in 2015! I suspect that this is a consequence of my very open profession of historic Christianity, and my consequent concerns for my close religious kin in troubled countries of the world.

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“In learning as in traveling and, of course, in lovemaking, all the charm lies in not coming too quickly to the point, but in meandering around for a while.” (Eva Brann)

Some succinct standing advice on recurring themes.

On arguing with integrity

Seth Godin’s Saturday blog was evocative for me:

Each of us understands that different people are swayed by different sorts of arguments, based on different ways of viewing the world. That seems sort of obvious. A toddler might want an orange juice because it’s sweet, not because she’s trying to avoid scurvy, which might be the argument that moves an intellectual but vitamin-starved sailor to take action.

So far, so good.

The difficult part is this: Even when people making an argument know this, they don’t like making an argument that appeals to the other person’s alternative worldview.

Worth a full stop here. Even when people have an argument about a political action they want someone else to adopt, or a product they want them to buy, they hesitate to make that argument with empathy. Instead, they default to talking about why they believe it.

To many people, it feels manipulative or insincere or even morally wrong to momentarily take the other person’s point of view when trying to advance an argument that we already believe in.

And that’s one reason why so many people claim to not like engaging in marketing. Marketing is the empathetic act of telling a story that works, that’s true for the person hearing it, that stands up to scrutiny. But marketing is not about merely sharing what you, the marketer believes. It’s about what we, the listener, believe.

Godin links to his book that fleshes out this theme.

I think Natural Law arguments come, well, naturally to me because I’ve internalized some of the Natural Law. I don’t argue that way, rather than from “Thus saith the Lord in Hezekiah 12:14,” because even if Hezekiah tipped me off to what the Lord said, what the Lord said tipped me off to the way things really are, not just to some “do it this way or I’ll hurt you in the bye-and-bye (which you therefore won’t find sweet).”

By my lights, then, I’m not entering dishonestly or manipulatively into someone’s alternative worldview, but (like Hezekiah quoting the Lord to me) pointing out to them what they truly believe because that’s how things truly are. There’s a lot of things that people “can’t not know.”

I guess this means that I don’t accept Godin’s premise that, deep down, people have divergent worldviews about deep-down realities. They merely have really, really thick ideological defenses against admitting reality (“really thick” as in “I’m not all that persuasive”).

Or maybe I don’t see what I’m doing as marketing, but as something more important than that trying to sell soup, soap, or legal services.

Now flip it over. I find very annoying people who have abandoned or never seriously professed the Christian faith, but who try to put their ideas into what they fancy as “Christian” terms — who try to appeal to what they fancy my alternative worldview. This includes, notably, things like the Facebook mêmes on the themes “if you were really a Christian you’d …” or “look how hypocritical these ‘Christians’ are.”

  • It generally comes across as insincere or as a form of browbeating a putative intellectual inferior;
  • It is generally tone-deaf to how Christians (at least Christians like me) think and talk (what I’ve branded “pretexting”); and
  • It generally posits something that isn’t really that way — that is, it tries to say that I as a Christian should believe some way (despite my perception that it’s unreal) simply because that’s what they get out of flying over something Jesus said at 30,000 feet and 500 mph.

I suppose the same could be true of a Christian from one tradition trying to translate their beliefs into one of the significantly different Christian traditions, too.

If I’m right about this “flip it over,” then despite Godin’s theory that they don’t like making an argument that appeals to the other person’s alternative worldview, they make it anyway. Do they think that the thing of which they’re trying to persuade me is no more important and fundamental than soup, soap or legal services? Generally, when people whip out their faux Christian hectoring, they’re talking about some fairly important stuff.

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I hadn’t intended to go here when I started writing, but yesterday brought news of a swarthy politician, who on the face of it, is appealing to people of faith to join him and his blond wife (“Heidi” is her name; how precious is that?!) in prayer, but who does so through a webpage that invites your public endorsement and won’t let you even sign up to pray with them unless you give him your e-mail address.

Since when does one sign up to pray in cyberspace? Does he really believe in prayer or is this a form of pretexting? Although he was targeting a different demographic than me, can I be offended anyway?

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“In learning as in traveling and, of course, in lovemaking, all the charm lies in not coming too quickly to the point, but in meandering around for a while.” (Eva Brann)

Some succinct standing advice on recurring themes.

 

He called back the sheep who had been led astray

Today, my Parish joyously will worship God for the first time in our new Church building.

Our Patron Saint is Alexis Toth of Wilkes-Barre. Yes, he labored for God in North America, and was canonized just twenty years ago. He was instrumental in the return of 17 Carpatho-Russian and Galician Uniate parishes in America to Holy Orthodoxy, and also started 15-20 new parishes, so we sing of how “He called back the sheep who had been led astray.”

That’s what he’s done for us who have him as patron, since most of us in the Parish are grateful converts from other Christian traditions (together with a few whose families had been wrested from Orthodoxy). No, I wasn’t led astray from Orthodoxy; I was born astray from Orthodoxy – to devout parents who cast their lot with, and then did the best they could with, what they knew of Christianity in the North American milieu of the late 4os forward.

With our new Church building, we have room for about twice as many strays to come home. Y’all come! 2115 S.R. 225 East, Battle Ground, Indiana. Matins 8:15, Divine Liturgy 9:30.

Today also is the observance of St. Ambrose of Milan, who was instrumental in the conversion of St. Augustine of Hippo, and the 95th birthday of my late father (who, yes, turned 22 the day Pearl Harbor was attacked). He barely got to know anything about Orthodoxy between my conversion and his death, and one thing he read worried him (I won’t go into that now). But God is gracious, and loves mankind, and I’ve claimed Ambrose as dad’s patron saint, who I like to say “is Orthodox now.”

Too bad we’re in the Nativity Fast, because I feel like a party!

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“The remarks made in this essay do not represent scholarly research. They are intended as topical stimulations for conversation among intelligent and informed people.” (Gerhart Niemeyer)

Some succinct standing advice on recurring themes.

Tenderness leads to the gas chamber

I got this via e-mail, though there’s a web version, too (as with much e-mail today). I’m convinced that it’s true, and that the truth of it is important as we guard ourselves against becoming, in common terms, “monsters” – that is, nice guys who do horrible things with a more or less clear conscience, and probably with the approbation of their social set at that place and time.

An introductory paragraph has been omitted:

Throughout history, we have met ISIS before, in various guises. ISIS members believe they are doing good. So did the Nazis. The Bolsheviks.

A good friend of mine shared a quote from Robert Reilly:

Anyone who chooses an evil act must present it to himself as good; otherwise as Aristotle taught, he would be incapable of choosing it. When we rationalize we convince ourselves that heretofore forbidden desires are permissible. As Hilaire Belloc wrote, in this case, “Every evil is its own good.” In our minds we replace the reality of the moral order to which the desire should be subordinated with something more compatible with the activity we are excusing.

He reminded me of a comment by Dr. William Hurlbut that we both heard earlier this year at a talk in Chicago:

Hurlbut made the point that all the Nobel laureates he works with who are developing human cloning are all “really nice guys.” They are all about saving lives and relieving suffering in people’s lives. I’ve since come to the conclusion that the truly dangerous man must, almost by necessity, be someone who is largely loved and admired. Whittaker Chambers wanted nothing to do with turning in the names of communists trying to overthrow our government until it was forced upon him. These were kind people, friends of his, who only wanted what was best.

This in turn reminded my friend of a Flannery O’Connor quote: “In the absence of faith, we govern by tenderness, and tenderness leads to the gas chamber.”

He concluded: “That is what guides those really nice guys that Dr. Hurlbutt talked about. They are guided by a faithless tenderness of heart.”

Both the nice men and the ISIS jihadists think they are improving the world. Any man may imagine a moral order of his own or he may subject himself to someone else’s moral order–that of the street gang, the Gestapo, a political party, or the jihadists of ISIS. They all espouse a view of good and evil. Someone took pride in the design of the gas ovens of Auschwitz. Someone took satisfaction in the efficiency of those ovens. Someone in ISIS was proud to post a video of a beheading.

The calls to commit such acts–abortion, jihad, what have you–may come through passionate shouts or seductive whispers, all pointing to some perceived or imagined good. Because of this, the world is always a dangerous place in both war and peace, on the battlefield and in the classroom. But neither the brutal men nor the nice men will inherit the earth. Jesus Christ embodies the only moral order that will endure. He was not nice and tame, but he is good.

Yours for Christ, Creed & Culture,

JMK sig blue

James M. Kushiner

Executive Director, The Fellowship of St. James

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“The remarks made in this essay do not represent scholarly research. They are intended as topical stimulations for conversation among intelligent and informed people.” (Gerhart Niemeyer)

Some succinct standing advice on recurring themes.