Saved from the fire

Somewhat along the lines of our posts on “influential books,” and inspired by Scott McLemee’s recent post about purging his CD collection and focusing on things that can’t easily be replaced, I have been toying with the idea of a post based on the following premise: “If you knew your library was going to be destroyed and could only save [an arbitrary but low number of] books, which would they be?”

I’ve put off doing so, however, because I’m puzzled by my gut reaction: I would absolutely have to save my copy of Anselm of Canterbury’s Major Works (Oxford World Classics). Nothing else comes close. The only other book that produces that kind of gut reaction is my Cassell’s French Dictionary. Both are completely, 100% replaceable. Neither has precious annotations that I need to refer back to — the dictionary is obviously a dictionary, and I have detailed notes over the Anselm that could easily take the place of my underlinings. But somehow, those are the two books that I will be keeping in my knapsack when I become homeless, because I formed some kind of bond with them — the dictionary from my first serious attempt to learn a foreign language, and the Anselm as the first work of pre-modern theology I really fell in love with (even though I disagree with him on virtually every substantive point).

Does anyone share my experience here, or am I insane? Or both?

François Laruelle’s Non-Philosophy: A One-Day Conference

We’ve finalized all the details for the Nottingham Laruelle event on March 5th. If you do want to attend, please register by emailing me at anthonypaul[dot]smith[at]gmail[dot]com. The event is free, but we’re providing a light lunch and need to know the correct numbers in order to provide the correct level of catering.

Please circulate this information and post on your blogs.

• Description of Event
• Programme
• Directions to University Park campus
• University Park map
• Poster

Justifiable Inequality

In a co-authored Comment Is Free piece, Phillip Blond and John Milbank aver that we need the right kind of inequality. We can reportedly achieve this by carrying out a synthesis of traditional Tory and Leftist ideals, which would allow us to distinguish between justifiable and unjustifiable inequality. The unjustifiable kind is based in race prejudice or in the nihilistic application of skill in socially useless activities such as investment banking — surely we can all agree on that. The justifiable kind is a form of class privilege that serves as “a way of providing the appropriate resources for the wielding of power linked to virtue. By virtue we mean here a combination of talent, fitness for a specific social role, and a moral exercise of that role for the benefit of wider society.”

Presumably we are to believe that there is some way of implementing this political program, despite the fact that no qualified judge of what is justified or unjustified equality seems to exist — unless we’re to imagine Rowan Williams or, probably even better, Benedict XVI handing down these moral recommendations — nor does actual existing class privilege serve to equip leaders for the exercise of virtue in public life as far as I can tell. The gesture is the same as with “Catholic social teaching”: bring together elements of left and right in some unprecedented mixture to prove your brilliance and ability to think “outside the box,” and provide no concrete means to get to this supposed utopia other than hoping that people’s hearts change and they suddenly start doing the right thing. It’s a pose, not a program, and its only possible concrete effect can be to support the right wing.

Overall, the article reminds me of a quote from the Communist Manifesto that I’ve used before in this connection: “Christian Socialism is but the holy water with which the priest consecrates the heart-burnings of the aristocrat.”

A Return to Bible Blogging: Romans 1

I’ll admit it: I allowed my Greek New Testament reading to lapse for a few weeks. Returning to it this morning, I decided that I would cut straight to Romans, which is the book of the New Testament that most interests me. The fact that the Greek is more difficult also makes it more appealling, and already in the greeting I’ve found some strange stuff. For instance, look at the first three verses:

Paul, a servant of Jesus Christ, called to be an apostle, set apart for the gospel of God, which he promised beforehand through his prophets in the holy scriptures, the gospel concerning his Son, who was descended from David according to the flesh… (NRSV)

ΠΑΥΛΟΣ δοῦλος Ἰησοῦ Χριστοῦ, κλητὸς ἀπόστολος, ἀφωρισμένος εἰς εὐαγγέλιον θεοῦ ὃ προεπηγγείλατο διὰ τῶν προφητῶν αὐτοῦ ἐν γραφαῖς ἁγίαις περὶ τοῦ υἱοῦ αὐτοῦ, τοῦ γενομένου ἐκ σπέρματος Δαυεὶδ κατὰ σάρκα…

The straightforward translation of that middle part seems to be “set apart for a bringing of God’s good news which was promised by the prophets in holy writings about his son,” rather than “set apart for the gospel of God, which he promised beforehand through his prophets in the holy scriptures, the gospel concerning his Son.” I’m basing this on the lack of definite articles, which may be a Pauline thing — but it seems to me that if we were expected to know that “περὶ τοῦ υἱοῦ αὐτοῦ” referred back to “εὐαγγέλιον,” there would be a “τον” there, and similarly, he would have used a definite article before “γραφαῖς ἁγίαις” or “εὐαγγέλιον” if he wanted to emphasize that they were the Holy Scriptures or the Gospel. (The fact that both are indefinite may actually soften the blow of implicitly relativising the Scriptures, insofar as it makes this good news of God a particular instance of good news, leaving room for the particular promises given to Israel — but that might be overreading.)

The Dictatorship of Relativism

Early in his papacy, Benedict XVI put a new rhetorical spin on a familiar conservative trope, claiming that we are living under a “dictatorship of relativism.” The fear of moral relativism, however, disguises our real problem, which is that the guiding moral imperative of our era is all too clear: either make money or serve someone who can.

Influential Books: AUFS For the Uninitiated 5

This post is different from those of my comrades, because my studies have fallen more strictly within theological lines. Also, I want to note that I am here sharing, in a more personal manner, about books that have influenced how I do theology, rather than focusing on “positions” I hold (as some of the others have in fact done).

The first significantly influential book I read, as a sophomore in undergrad, was John Howard Yoder’s The Politics of Jesus. Many other books could have had a similar effect on me, but it was Yoder’s chapter entitled, “Justification by Grace Through Faith,” which destroyed my individualistic reading of the Christian tradition. With the illumination of the social nature of soteriology (reconciliation), Yoder also articulated my pacifist leanings, and pushed me over the edge into what I know as Christological pacifism (Incidentally, I did not grow up with pacifist tendencies. However, with a couple of years of intense study of scripture behind me, when 9/11 happened I somehow knew intuitively that I was against any response other than enemy-love, even though I had yet to rigorously think the issue through).

On the Teaching of Christianity

This year, many of the job listings on the AAR indicated an interest in Global Christianity, which appears to mean something like “Third World” Christianity. It is an increasingly important field of study, and indeed it is one that I have already been engaged in to a certain extent, through my study and teaching of a wide range of Liberation Theologies from around the world. My colleagues at Kalamazoo are now helping me to expand from that base to develop a course comparing the spread of Liberation Theology and Pentecostalism, which would capture a lot of what is going on in Third World Christianity, or at least what is most dynamic.

There is a certain logic to the sudden vogue of Global Christianity, which many of my younger colleagues seemed to view as a new and yet surprisingly widespread job listing requirement — indeed, it’d be strange if there was a religion department that didn’t want to offer such courses. Nevertheless, this vogue discourages me, not on the level of content, but on the level of the trends it points toward: namely, an increasing desire to take an exclusively sociological, or else “history of religions,” approach to Christianity.

Growing Up Is Hard to Do

As I reflect on the latest setback to the Democratic party’s legislative agenda in tonight’s election in Massachusetts, I’m reminded of the increasingly prominent narrative making the rounds amongst the A-list liberal bloggers. Basically, so we’re told, we should’ve known better than to expect anything more than what we’ve gotten so far out of an Obama presidency. Sure, he used flashy, inspirational rhetoric to secure an unprecedented coalition of support, but if you really believed the rhetoric, you weren’t actually listening to the message. In effect, those who feel either betrayed or let down are really just feeling the bitter sting that comes on the backside of naivety. Politics is hard; compromise is necessary; Obama has been very up-front about his feeling son Afghanistan, health care, etc. etc etc.

I’m not going to disagree with the practical relevance of this line of thinking. Nor do I underestimate its power as a kind of pragmatic consolation. I am also amongst the first to be annoyed by the residual Obama demagoguery amongst the limousine liberals here in the Bay Area. What I resist, however, is the conclusion drawn: i.e., that those who believed then should either “grow up” or “shut up” now.

Book Discussion: The Recognitions

(Ed. note: Sorry this post is so late. Been a pretty stressful week, and things just mounted as Friday approached. Then there was a Breaking Bad marathon Saturday, and the next thing I knew it was Sunday afternoon.)

Pages: 446-541

So, let’s talk about Esme. She really took centerstage in this week’s reading, I felt. Chapter II.4 begins with her withering evisceration of Otto, in which she concludes, “You had me all filled in before you met me, Otto. There was no room for me at all” (p. 449). Now, for me, this raises an important question: what would it mean really to know Esme?

In her letter to Wyatt later in the chapter, in which she laments that she exists only as a painting to him, she insists that there is in fact a part of her, a remainder, that the paintings for which she models cannot depict (or, she continues, devour).

Augustine and The Big Lebowski

From Confessions XII.25:

But I will not tolerate their contention that Moses meant, not what I say he meant, but only what they say. It appals me, because even if their explanation is the right one, the arbitrary assurance with which they insist upon it springs from presumption, not from knowledge. It is the child of arrogance, not of true vision.

In other words: “You’re not wrong, you’re just an asshole.”