Was this what you had in mind, Madam Speaker?

Nancy Pelosi famously declared that they'd have to pass the health care bill to find out what's in the bill. Well, now we're finding out:

"Turns out ObamaCare means if you like your health plan you can lose it. The president didn't have to actually strong-arm companies into dumping their employee health insurance because his bill carried financial incentives to virtually guarantee that result," [Rep. Joe] Barton said. "But something's very wrong when, like AT&T found out, paying $600 million in penalties will allow you to stop paying $2.4 billion for insurance, leaving both workers and taxpayers stuck. I suppose we can't know for some years how many thousands, hundreds of thousands or even millions of workers will lose their company insurance because of health care reform, but I know that it will be a breach of faith for most of them and a tragedy for some."

Transparency: it isn't just for Catholics anymore

I've been wondering for a while when we'd see this. From the Anchoress:

In New York, Queens Assemblywoman Margaret Markey routinely presents a bill which seeks to open a year-long “window” into the statute of limitations on child sex-abuse cases, allowing victims whose cases may go back as far as 40 years to bring suit for damages.

Because the bill has—until now—always been limited by Markey to impact the churches, exclusively, it routinely failed, or been shelved. It is difficult to pass a bill that essentially finds some sexual abuse victims to be more worthy of redress than others.

Markey seems to have figured that out; her new bill includes suits against secular institutions, and the previously silent civil authorities, among others, are reeling . . .

So, the secular institutional world may soon find itself forced onto the same learning curve that has impacted and the Catholic Church over the past few years; that world too may find itself finally forced to confront the filth that too often stays hidden. The confrontation—painful as it may be—will ultimately be for the good. . . .

As we begin to acknowledge that child sex abuse has long infected the whole of society, and not just the churches, we will be forced to take a long and difficult look at ourselves. Church-sex stories may be sensational, but these others will quickly come to seem dreary, mostly because they will indict not just those oddball celibates and religious freaks, but our cops, our doctors, our teachers, our bureaucrats—you know, the “normal” people, all around us, in our families, attending our barbecues and graduations, healing our wounds and teaching our kids.

Extending the “open window” to include secular sex abuse cases will impact the whole of society. We will be invited to look in and—seeing the width and breadth of the problem—will be forced to ponder the human animal and the human soul in ways we have not, and would rather not. It may bring home some uncomfortable truths: that “safety” is relative; that human darkness is not limited to various “theys” but seeps into the whole of “us”; that the tendency to look at the guilt of others has, perhaps, a root in our wish not to look at ourselves; that human brokenness is a constant and human righteousness is always imperfect.

Read the whole thing—this is important. I for one hope this bill passes, not least because it will expose the sanctimonious pretense by many outside the Roman church that this is only a Catholic problem. For all the agonies of what Fr. Richard John Neuhaus called the Catholic church's “Long Lent,” and for all the opportunistic false charges that were levied, it does seem to have been a necessary cleansing that will leave the church stronger and healthier in the long run; perhaps this would indeed do the same for our society.

Random thought

I only ask two things from those who disagree with me. I don't ask that they claim not to believe me wrong; such a claim only dishonors both of us, and is dishonest besides. Nor do I ask them to censor themselves, which could only prevent true conversation. Rather, I ask that though they believe me wrong, they give me credit for being wrong in good faith and honest inquiry. And in addition, I ask that they be willing to listen honestly to my reasons for disagreeing with them, accepting the possibility that they might be convinced that I am in fact right after all. These are the things I seek to give in return to those who disagree with me, though I certainly do not claim to do so unfailingly or perfectly. They are, it seems to me, the necessary prerequisites for a truly open, honest, and constructive discussion; they are the characteristics we must have if we are to experience any kind of real and meaningful unity in the midst of our diversity.

On this blog in history: June 1-8, 2008

Politics in a state of grace
The founding principle of any truly Christian politics must be the absolute sovereignty of God.

“Doubting Thomas”?
We’re in no position to talk.

Skeptical conversations, part VI: Relationship with God (or not)
Salvation as a matter of knowing the one who saves

Worldly heavens make me ill
On the rubbish that is the popular idea of heaven

Firefly, Tolkien, and narrative theology
On the intrinsic theological significance of story

Jesus is Lord

Ever since the very beginning, the church has declared that Jesus is Lord; and I suspect that ever since pretty early on in there, large chunks of the church have proceeded to go out and ignore that proclamation. When we say that, we’re not saying any small thing. Rather, we’re saying that we acknowledge him not merely as the one who saves us, not merely as someone who blesses us, not merely as someone who loves us and whom we love, but also as the God of the universe, the one who created and sustains and commands everything that is; we’re bowing before him as the one who has the undisputed right to our wholehearted worship, our absolute allegiance, and our unquestioning obedience. No exceptions; no qualifications; no ifs, ands, or buts.

Which is easy enough to say; but of course, just saying it isn’t good enough. This is one of those things, if you just say it and don’t do it, you haven’t really said it at all. Making this confession commits us to actually living it out—and that’s the rub, because there are always places where we don’t want to do that. We tend to want to tell Jesus, “OK, you can be Lord of 95% of my life, or even 98%—but I have this thing over here that I want to hang on to, that I want to keep doing my way. It doesn’t bother you, it doesn’t affect anything else, so just let me keep doing this one thing and you can have the rest of my life.” To us, that makes sense; to us, that seems perfectly reasonable. We don’t understand why Jesus looks back at us and says, “No. You need to give me that, too”; but that’s what he does, every time.

In truth, whatever is the last thing we want to give up is the first thing Jesus asks of us, and the first thing that truly acknowledging his lordship requires of us. It may be a sin, or it may not; it may be something he intends to take away from us, or it may be something he intends to let us keep. Indeed, it may be our greatest gift, the one thing he will use most powerfully in our life for our blessing and the blessing of others. But whatever it is, good or ill, we have to give it over to him and let it be his, not ours. Anything we will not give up, anything of which we’re unwilling to let go, is something which is more important to us than Jesus is; and anything which is more important to us than Jesus is an idol, and God will not tolerate idols in our lives.

It’s tempting to look at this and say, “No, it really doesn’t matter that much.” Even if what we’re trying to hang onto is a sin, we can always convince ourselves that it’s not that big a deal; and if it isn’t—well, marriage, for instance, is a good and biblical thing, and if we’re married and love the person to whom we’re married, it doesn’t seem particularly unreasonable to tell Jesus no, this person is all mine. God can have the rest of my life, but my marriage is all mine.

Now, certainly, we have enduring allegiances in this world that are good and right. But here’s the rub: every single one of those allegiances, and every last one of those loves, has to take its proper place—behind our love for and our allegiance to our Lord Jesus Christ. We love our family, our friends, our church, our country, maybe our jobs, and then along comes Jesus and says, “Anyone who comes to me and doesn’t hate his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, and even his own life, cannot be my disciple.” No, I didn’t make that up, it’s Luke 14:26. Obviously, “hate” is a strong word, especially when Jesus commands us to love everybody, but this is a rabbinic way of speaking—he’s saying that our love for everyone other than him has to come so far second to our love for him that we’ll put him and his will first, even if it means that others come away from it thinking we hate them. This is the degree of allegiance our Lord wants from us, and the totality of worship he desires from us—with no competition, no exceptions, and nothing else smuggled in.

That sounds pretty demanding, but it really isn’t; it’s simply what’s necessary. C. S. Lewis explained this well when he wrote,

God claims all, because he is love and must bless. He cannot bless us unless he has us. When we try to keep within us an area that is our own, we try to keep an area of death. Therefore, in love, he claims all.

Liberalism

On Twitter some time ago, John Piper offered this succinct definition of the impulse behind liberal theology: "Make the Gospel acceptable to the world rather than showing the world it is unintelligible without the Gospel."

Some might say that many conservatives do the same—that the only difference is what part of the world they're trying to please. Those people would be absolutely correct; but it doesn't invalidate Dr. Piper's point. Rather, what it shows is that many conservatives are, in fact, far more liberal than they think they are. Indeed, it shows just how great the triumph of the liberal Protestant project was, and how many of those who consider themselves to be in opposition to it are actually captive to its assumptions. The so-called "modernist-fundamentalist" controversy of the 1920s was in truth a conflict between modernists; fundamentalism was (and continues to be) a movement that sought to refute liberalism's conclusions while accepting its presuppositions about knowledge, truth, and the proper basis for belief.

Identity politics and the liberal fear of Sarah Palin

Contempt and disdain for Sarah Palin, sometimes hysterical and violent, is practically a commonplace on the Left in this country right now. There are those on the Right who believe that contempt to be faked, a matter of political calculation, but I don't think so; I tend to believe it's truly felt, however unjustified I'm certain it is. I don't see the evidence in the record to support it, but that's because I don't begin with the presupposition that conservative ideas are stupid; it's also because I have no desire to believe her stupid, incompetent, malignant, a lightweight, etc., where many liberals clearly do.

The question is, though, if the Left honestly believes Gov. Palin is not to be taken seriously—which isn't a unanimous opinion, but I do sense is held by the majority—why do they keep leveling every gun they can bring to bear on her? Part of that is probably contempt for the voting public, something akin to what we recently saw out of British Prime Minister Gordon Brown; after all, from the liberal point of view, if a majority of American voters actually chose to elect George W. Bush, there's no telling what hyperbolically moronic thing we might choose to do next. Even if she really is as bad as they're trying to tell us, we might go and vote her in anyway.

I think there's something else going on here, though, which sits a good deal more uneasily with liberal consciences, to say nothing of liberal political analysis. When Barack Obama won in November 2008, a good chunk of his appeal could be boiled down to identity politics: "Vote for me because I'm black." It wasn't simply an appeal to "racial"* minorities, though—this was also a good chunk of his appeal to white swing voters, breaking down into two related appeals. One was "Vote for me to help make history by electing America's first black president." The desire to see history happen, and to help make it happen, is powerful even in a vacuum; that's why if you go to a baseball game and the visiting pitcher has a perfect game going through five, six, seven innings, you'll find an awful lot of the home fans start cheering him on, hoping to see him pull it off. After all, there's another chance for a win tomorrow, but to see a perfect game . . . who knows if you'll ever have another shot? But of course, Sen. Obama's win wasn't in a vacuum, it was in the context of the long indignity of white-black relations in this country, and the history he made truly was profound.

The other element in play here, of course, was "Vote for me and prove you're not a racist"; as many people observed, Sen. Obama offered himself in a very real sense as the answer to white guilt over slavery, Jim Crow, and "racial" inequality, and as the hope for a post-racial politics in this country. It hasn't panned out that way, but that was part of his promise and part of his appeal; in voting for a black President, white folks could do something constructive about the ills that have been done to black folks in this country.

In 2012, however, that appeal is gone. The history is already made; it can't be made again. America has already proven it will elect a black President. A great many swing voters have already proven to themselves that they are perfectly willing to vote for a black President; if they decide to vote for someone other than President Obama, no one can reasonably say it must be because they're racists. That's gone, and it can't be brought back; it may be propped up a bit, but "re-elect" just isn't as resonant as "elect"—and if you try to tell swing voters that once wasn't good enough, they have to vote for him again to really prove they aren't racists and their country isn't racist, you risk making them very angry.

That said, even the echo of the appeal to history and identity politics may have some resonance, depending on whom the Republicans run against the President. If it's another white guy—Pawlenty, Romney, Daniels, doesn't much matter—then you can refashion it a bit as the Republicans wanting to turn back the clock, or something; sure, independents have already voted for a black President once, but isn't that still more heroic than just another pasty GOP dude? Of course, Bobby Jindal could always decide to run, and he could win the nomination, and yeah, he's a minority . . . but Indians and other South Asians just aren't that big a presence in US identity politics, and their history in this country lacks moments like Selma and figures like the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.; Jindal's a minority, but not in a way that's politically resonant (especially since he converted from Hinduism to a very American form of Christianity). His nomination would defang the "Republicans = racists" meme to some extent, but the Left could always claim that the GOP only nominated him because he's not really black.

But if Sarah Palin (or, for that matter, Michele Bachmann or Liz Cheney) were to win the nomination . . . now that's a kettle of fish of a different color. Now, all of a sudden, the appeal to history, identity politics, and guilt is powerfully back in play—but on the wrong side (from the Left's perspective). All of a sudden, you have a candidate who can stand up and say, "Vote for me to help make history by electing America's first female president"; you have a candidate who can go on TV and say, "Vote for me and prove you're not a sexist." The former would probably make some on the Right cringe a little, but far more would cheer her on; as for the latter, while I don't see any conservative female candidate actually being so gauche as to say such a thing, she wouldn't have to. Indeed, Gov. Palin could fire off volley after volley against the "old boys' network" in Chicago and DC, and point out quite accurately that President Obama is a creature of those networks and has surrounded himself with their members; the principal point would be the true and important one that he's just another machine politician doing politics as usual, but the undercurrent would have its effect.

Do I believe that Gov. Palin would consciously ask people to vote for her because she's a woman? No, certainly not to the extent that Sen. Obama consciously used his skin color to political advantage; but her gender would be to significant political advantage nevertheless, just as his skin color was, and in ways that would really undermine the political foundations of his 2008 victory. This is particularly true given that, while there was no fair basis for calling John McCain a racist, one can make a pretty good argument that Barack Obama is a sexist, or at least that some of his closest advisors are. After all, just look at the way his campaign treated Hillary Clinton during the 2008 primary. Look at the way they treated Sarah Palin during the general election. Look at the language they used, over and over again, and at the ways they depicted their female opponents. If President Obama ends up having to run against a woman for re-election, charges of sexism could get real traction with independents—and even some moderate liberals—and that could really hurt him.

In short, I believe the reason liberals have been hitting Gov. Palin with everything including the kitchen sink ever since her appearance on the national stage is that they think of things, and the current administration certainly thinks of things, in terms of identity politics—something conservatives are far less prone to do—and are used to using identity politics in their favor (as they're trying to do again with the latest round of accusations of racism); but if the GOP nominates a strong conservative female candidate for the White House, those identity politics will rebound on them in a big way, and pose a definite political threat. That, I think, is the biggest reason for the Left's anti-Palin hysteria: if she wins the GOP nomination, she'll turn their ace in the hole into a low club.

To which I say, good on her.

*The whole use of the word "race" to categorize people by skin color and continent of ancestral origin really galls me. IMHO, there's only one "race," and that's the human race. Anything else is majoring in the minors.

(Cross-posted at Conservatives4Palin).

Back in the saddle (I think)

Life has been pretty crazy of late—we've had several folks from the church hospitalized of late, and a number of equally serious non-medical issues pop up as well—and in the middle of it, my laptop wound up in the shop, leaving me cadging computer time where I could get it. Needless to say, I haven't had a lot of time to write, and the blog shows it. Whether the crisis situations will ebb or not, I don't know, but at least I have my laptop back; I hope to take advantage of that to get back to blogging again.

In the meantime, Clover has the new iteration of their website engine up and running, and I've been making some upgrades to the church's website; check it out. (No, I don't have audio up for the new sermon series yet—that was one of the things I haven't been able to do without my laptop. That should be up shortly.)

What Easter doesn't mean

The great mistake so many folks make in dealing with Easter is to interpret it as a story about something. Whatever that "something" might be, this is simply wrong. The key thing to understand about the Resurrection is that it isn't about anything but itself. It isn't an example of anything, or a metaphor, or an illustration; it isn't for us to draw lessons about hope, or faith, or love, or even how wonderful Jesus is. Instead, it simply is, this utterly new thing God has done for the healing and the recreation of the world; it is not to be interpreted in the light of anything else. Rather, it is the point around which the whole history of the world orbits, to which everything else that has ever happened is oriented, and everything else is to be interpreted in its light.

We resist this, I think, because we want God to be about us, and we want Jesus to be about what we want for our lives, and so we want the Resurrection along with everything else to be primarily important because of what it means for us; but whatever we might want, that just isn't the case. The fact of the matter is, like it or not, everything else we do and say and know and live as Christians is about the Resurrection. If we’re not talking and living that way, we’re missing the point.

Why Mitt Romney is not the GOP frontrunner

Never mind the polls, he's nothing of the sort. This sums up why:

Put bluntly, President Obama has hitched his wagon to ObamaPelosiCare. Barring a major foreign-policy catastrophe (which is certainly possible; I'm still somewhat surprised we got no major attacks last year), and maybe not even then, it's hard to imagine a scenario for 2012 in which his health care bill is popular and he himself is not—and at this point, that's the only scenario under which a Romney victory is at all plausible. The fact of the matter is, however hard Gov. Romney tries to argue that his plan in Massachusetts was fundamentally different than the Democrats' national plan, he just has no case; they both come straight from the Teddy Kennedy playbook.

Now, in all fairness to Gov. Romney, the field has shifted somewhat on health care in the last few years; as Stephen Spruiell points out, it wasn't all that long ago that even the Heritage Foundation supported individual mandates for health insurance, something which is now universally opposed on the Right; Orrin Hatch even submitted a health care bill in the Senate which took that approach:

The problem for Gov. Romney is, he took his cue from that and signed a health care bill into law—and now that his bill hasn't reduced costs in Massachusetts (or helped much of anything else, really), and now that the political center has shifted to leave his accomplishment firmly on the political Left, he's stuck with it. It's possible he may be able to find a way to deal with that and put himself back within the conservative mainstream; but until he does that, he cannot with any intelligence be called the GOP frontrunner or anything close to it. As of now, the only thing one can reasonably call his presidential hopes is a mirage.

On the insipidity of pop music

Does all pop music sound the same to you? Well, as the Aussie comedy/music trio Axis of Awesome points out, there's a reason for that (note: language warning):

(Update: I discovered recently that the version of this clip I originally posted, which has the song titles included, is actually an edited version of their performance—it had about a minute removed, as well as their introduction on the stage—so I've changed the video to one which includes the whole performance. For the shorter version with song titles, go here.)

Now, if you're like me, this immediately reminded you of something else—this bit from the American musical comedian Rob Paravonian (language warning here as well), which takes the same idea a bit further:

Between the two, I'm not sure there's all that much left to say.

Good for Nebraska

This is good news:

The Nebraska legislature has signed off on a bill that Governor Dave Heineman will sign today that could head to the courts and ultimately weaken further the Roe v.Wade Supreme Court decision that has resulted in 52 million abortions. The bill bans abortions after 20 weeks of pregnancy based on the well-established concept of fetal pain.

By a vote of 44-5, the Nebraska unicameral legislature this morning gave final passage to the Pain Capable Unborn Child Protection Act introduced by Speaker Mike Flood.

One small step toward a more just and compassionate society.

Michael Spencer, RIP

If you are going to think about God, go to Jesus and start there, stay there & end there.

—Michael Spencer

I don't have the time or energy to give this the attention it merits, but Michael Spencer, the iMonk, died this Easter Monday after a four-month battle with cancer. One never agrees with anyone completely, of course, but the iMonk was a powerful and critically important voice calling the church that calls itself evangelical back from the heresy of making Jesus about something else (primarily, us, in one form or another) to the truth that we are supposed to be all about Jesus. I'm grateful that he got his book Mere Churchianity: Finding Your Way Back to Jesus-Shaped Spirituality finished before his death, and leaves that as his valediction to the church; I'm equally grateful that a group of folks who knew and loved him and believed in his work are planning to keep it going. But most of all, for his sake, I'm grateful that he is indeed truly resting in the peace of Christ.

Shameless plug o’ the week

I haven't disappeared, I've just had several things conspiring to keep me from posting, including a lack of good Internet connection; I will be back to writing more soon. I did want to note, though, that the sermon audio on our church website is current through Easter, and I think I've finally made a breakthrough on some of the audio-quality issues—it's still not as good as I'd like it to be, but it's a long way better. I'm going to go back and clean up some of the stuff I've already posted, then set to work posting older series.

No, this is not an April Fool's joke

Democratic Rep. Hank Johnson (D-GA) really did say, during a hearing in the House, that he's afraid that the island of Guam will "tip over and capsize" if we increase our military presence there: