St. Maximos' Hut

Just saw Domino, which I liked although reviewers have generally not been kind (a sample: "With Domino, Tony Scott continues in his quest to make films expressly for the hard of hearing, the visually impaired and people on amphetamines, who find that all other movies move too darn slow."). A mysterious stranger shows up, waving a religious tract and spouting religious lingo and solving a crucial plot problem. Lots of random (and confused) theological references. Not great art, perhaps, but fine entertainment to this Philistine's taste. Wouldn't have been possible without a shared religious background and I count that as a plus for religion. Any additional examples in the comments would be most welcome.

And, you have to love a movie with a line about a character that he has "the attention span of a ferret on crystal meth."

Well....I took the thing. Seems as though I am closest in score to Barth, but within 3 points of St. Augustine and John Calvin. Very, very puzzling for an intransigent Thomist. Perhaps I need to reread the Summa.

I think that the quiz questions tend to be a bit more absolute than the theological categories they purport to represent, especially those on the question of sin, hell and eschatology.

I did like the link to on-line bachelor of divinity degrees offered by the University of London, though. An interesting educational delivery system for a degree that really should be residential--it's that prayer life thing. Perhaps non-chapel based programs (or is that programmes?) are part of the theological decline. But, then again, some of us are people of the 13th century and overly fussy about these sorts of things.

I am reminded of one seminary I visited before entering the Dominican House. The guide cheerfully informed me that chapel had been dropped from the residential program as "unpopular" among the students. In lieu of it, seminarians often visited the pottery-making room to "get centered." So much for the rigors of a residential degree-on reflection, it perhaps might just be better to learn at as great a distance as possible from such august institutions.

Fr. C.

I'm Anselm, but in a virtual tie with Karl Barth. In practice, I'm confused as to theology, and agree with Andy that a math section of the quiz would have been helpful.

The furor over the Miers nomination (see ProfBainbridge.com for a good roundup) makes me wonder about whether the debate is missing an important clue to Miers' approach to the Constitution from her religious background. As an evangelical, she presumably believes that the Bible provides a text which each reader can understand without the need for intermediary institutions to interpret it for the reader (e.g. reliance on the clergy, written glosses, etc.) If she approaches the Constitution's text in the same way and uses the types of interpretative techniques used by Protestants to read the Scriptures, is she predisposed to an originalist analysis? Given that she is NOT a member of a "mainstream"* Protestant denomination in which interpretative techniques akin to the "living Constitution" approach of former Justice William Brennan have led to some, uh, creative readings of the text, would it be fair to presume that she'll take a more originalist approach to the Constitution's text based on how she reads Scripture? I don't think I know enough about how evangelical churches generally, or Miers' church in particular, approaches Scripture to know the answer.

But if so, that seems a neglected aspect of her background.


* how come the "mainstream" ones are the ones losing members? Shouldn't we recalibrate and call the evangelicals "mainstream" and the mainstream ones something else?

Quiz on The Flickering Mirror - I can't find a permalink, so scroll down.

I'm Karl Barth - but I plead ignorance for many of the questions. I was disappointed that there was no math on the test and Adam Smith was not one of the possible results! (For economics as religion, see Robert Nelson.)

There's a Christian blog convention going on. Wish I'd known about it, not that I had time anyway.

But the list of attendees, here, gives an interesting list of hyperlinks to religious blogs.

Some neat blogs out there. On first looks, I especially like The Evangelical Ecologist, The Sheep's Crib (love the subhead), and The Flickering Mirror (I'm a sucker for an Orthodox blogger).

Fr. M hosted our second annual male bonding party. Photos here - including one of him with a hookah and one of me with a huge chunk of lamb.

In honor of St. Maximos, we burned a hut. See the pics.

Lord have mercy on me - I am besotted with Green Day's American Idiot. I know it is wrong - to repeatedly expose myself to the idiocy of what passes for deep thought merely because despite that idiocy there are turns of phrases, combinations of sounds, series of notes, etc. that stir my heart. Thank heaven that I can't make head or tail of the "story" of this album. (See here for a thoughtful review that tries hard to pretend this matters).

Enough confession (enough public confession anyway). What's struck me - and perhaps it is only an attempt to rationalize my addiction - was that despite the intent to reject religion, this work would have been impossible without the shared experience of Christian religion that exists (still) among its audience. Enough people know enough that the lyrics can invoke religious images for irreligious purposes. A song title like "Jesus of Suburbia", lines like "sitting on my crucifix," "I read the graffiti in the bathroom stall / like the holy scriptures in a shopping mall", "hearts recycled but never saved," "Dearly beloved, are you listening?", "coming down like an armageddon flame", "can I get another amen?", "My name is St. Jimmy", "she's a rebel / she's a saint", "from her heart's apocalypse", and so on draw down on a stock of social capital of religious images. As society becomes more secular, even anti-religious "artists" like Green Day will find it harder to create images because they will no longer be able to draw down on this capital stock. (Of course, in a even more secularized world, artists will have to fulminate against something besides the church).

Thus, it seems to me that a shared religious experience even of a comparatively shallow level (something like the stuff the Establishment Clause is now thought to forbid - public prayers and so on) is a necessary component in creating a shared capital stock of imagery that all can use, for both pro- and anti-religious purposes. Who, after all, would be shocked by Serrano's Piss Christ in a fully secular world? (And shocking people seems to be the point of that particular "art".)

This seems headed in the direction of a public good argument for religion and common religious observance at public functions, but I am too frazzled to figure out if that's a good idea or not. Since I tend to find public good arguments unconvincing in general, I suspect I'll come out with the view that this is best as a reductio response to other public good arguments.

But it serves the immediate purpose of relieving my guilt at taking pleasure in something as ridiculous as American Idiot.

Better I should spend my day listening to Ted Nugent:

Ted Nugent is not an evolution guy.
This became apparent recently when Mr. Nugent, the 57-year-old rocker, huntsman and N.R.A. board member, brandished a blood-drenched liver he had just pulled from a freshly slain deer. He used the moment, during filming of his forthcoming reality show on the Outdoor Life Network, "Wanted: Ted or Alive," to explain the meaning of life to five contestants who were in various states of awe and nausea.
"Big bangs don't make this," Mr. Nugent said, musing on the steaming organ he held before him. "That's not a big bang. God made that. That's a liver. That's mystical. You and I can't make livers. Things banging don't make livers. This is mystical stuff. This is magic. This is perfection."

Go Ted.

An interesting piece drifted in from the Acton Institute this afternoon. Seems as though the Netherlands-based, Oikocredit, a church-backed international development bank "says it has become a world leader in providing resources for small loans for poor people to set up in business."

I headed over to their website here, and found some interesting claims. For starters, "Oikocredit believes that poor people can build themselvesa better life, if only given the chance, if only given the credit."

The entity is a privately-owned, cooperative organization, that encourages investment in a "socially responsible manner." This translates into microfinance opportunities directed to cooperatives, and to small or medium-sized enterprises in agriculture, trade, services and manufacturing. Investors typically receive a 2% return, plus a "social return".

They claim a broad spectrum of religious denominations as members, including both Roman Catholic and Orthodox congregations. Board membership certainly appears to be multi-national, with only one director from the United States. Their stated numbers appear impressive, with 398 projects currently subject to funding. It does seem an odd enterprise for a body that claims its rorigins in the "social gospel" propounded by the World Council of Churches,particularly as they advocate lending money, rather than simply giving it away in large quantities.

An interesting operation.

Fr. C.

The Internet is a wonderful thing - I got an email that led me to this site, where the Battle of Lepanto is commemorated, as well as all sorts of good stuff - check out Tradition in Action: "committed to defend the perennial Magisterium of Holy Mother Church and Catholic traditions. TIA also works for a restoration of Christian civilization, adapted to contemporary historical circumstances." Inspiring even for a non-Catholic like me!

Slate has an intriguing "slide show essay" on the architecture of mega-churches today.

Modern architecture, like the building at Case that is next door to the law school where I work, generally leaves me cold. These were no exception.

No mention is made of any of the architects involved in these projects being religious and that may explain the results.

A particularly telling comment comes in the commentary on the roof of the auditorium in Salt Lake City:

What is remarkable about the Salt Lake City building, however, is the landscaped roof, which includes stairs, terraces, fountains, and reflecting pools. The design, by the Olin Partnership, is not historical and contains no religious symbols. Yet, like most parks, it has a contemplative, quasi-religious atmosphere.

Please.

Update: The commentary on the above in the reader's forum at Slate is interesting. A good summary here.