Note from CM: We’re giving Michael Spencer the week off. Instead, I will revive this post from my early days of writing for him.
This was one of the first posts I did for Internet Monk, back in 2009.
I wrote it in the early days of attending a Lutheran church, having left pastoral ministry in a non-denominational congregation, bouncing around and trying to find my footing in the post-evangelical wilderness.
One thing that impressed me about our congregation was the seriousness with which services were planned for particular seasons and occasions. The colors, banners, vestments and decorations, the music, the readings, and the extra services people attended reinforced that these were special days, that they deserved a priority place on our calendars, and that our worship was going to be shaped by the gospel story of Jesus and not of our own devising.
I’ve done some editing to update the post, but it still sets forth the same questions.
And oh, yes. This week is Holy Week, and where I live it once more coincides with spring break. And I’m leading services at our church. Wonder who will show?
♱ ♱ ♱
When I ministered in suburban evangelical churches (nine years in one as a “worship pastor”), there were two times each year when I struggled most against the infiltration of American secular culture into the church. These two times also happened to be the main feasts of the church, Christmas and Easter. One would think that, of all times in the year, Christians would keep these two seasons sacred, but what I have found is —
1. The way people approach these seasons is defined more by individual and family traditions than by church traditions.
In our busy and mobile society, the holidays are travelin’ times and family get-together times first and foremost.
As a pastor and worship leader, I encouraged our people to follow the liturgical calendar to some extent. Inevitably however, we had to push special Christmas events earlier into December in order to successfully “compete” against family gatherings and programs. Or, we found that Holy Week and Spring Break (the true holiday?) conflicted, so that we almost always had to announce and celebrate the resurrection before commemorating when Jesus went to the Cross!
Christmas Eve and Good Friday services were usually poorly attended. Ash Wednesday? Lent? No chance. Forget about planning additional gatherings or service opportunities during Advent or the time around Easter. The extra effort involved in putting together special ways of commemorating the great events of our faith seemed wasted when we considered how few would participate or attend.
I know that seems like I’m emphasizing how many people attend as a measure of success, but from a pastor’s perspective it’s more than that. We are called, as Paul said, to labor until Christ is formed in our people (Galatians 4:19), and folks simply taking off at the most important times of the year is discouraging.
2. Patterns of worship in some congregations vary little from the way worship is practiced during other parts of the year.
One pastor with whom I worked insisted that, except for some decorations and maybe a couple of different songs, worship on special days would be exactly the same as on any other Sunday. His reasoning was that more unbelievers would attend services on those days and that we should therefore show them what the church is like all the time. He usually did not change his message but continued the Bible book series he was teaching, the band played mostly the same praise and worship songs, and the “feel” of the service was consistent with other Sundays.
I always thought he missed the point of worship and the importance of God’s family celebrating Jesus and his works in these special seasons. We also missed the opportunity to use the seasons as special opportunities for the spiritual formation of believers. And I disagreed about special days having a primarily evangelistic focus, believing that we are primarily to reach unbelievers in the world, not in the worship services of the church.
In my experience in evangelicalism, whenever the church calendar has a face-off with the family calendar, school calendar, or community calendar, the church calendar usually loses.
I have had countless discussion with church leaders about this, and I wonder what you think.
Here are a few questions these things raise for me, especially when I look at it from a pastor’s perspective.
How far should we go in accommodating culture?
On the other hand, are there times when the church should simply insist that “this is what church is, and this is what we do to fulfill God’s calling in Christ,” exhorting our people to make the services of the church a priority? And if we do this, how do we avoid becoming legalistic or overly critical about it?
Then again, shouldn’t we also affirm the goodness and sacredness of being with family, enjoying life and blessings such as travel and seasons of refreshment?
Palm/Passion Sunday Richard Rohr on a Credo of Adjectives
On Sundays in Lent this year I’m sharing some things I’ve been learning from Richard Rohr.
As Jesus enters Jerusalem on the final week of his life, the Gospel of John describes what was about to happen in these terms: Jesus was entering into his “glory” (see John 12:23).
This is a continual thread throughout John, beginning with the confession in chapter one: “And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth” (1:14). The background of this statement is found in Exodus 33 —
Moses said, “Show me your glory, I pray.”And he said, “I will make all my goodness pass before you, and will proclaim before you the name, ‘The Lord’; and I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy. But,” he said, “you cannot see my face; for no one shall see me and live.” And the Lord continued, “See, there is a place by me where you shall stand on the rock; and while my glory passes by I will put you in a cleft of the rock, and I will cover you with my hand until I have passed by; then I will take away my hand, and you shall see my back; but my face shall not be seen.”
When God “passed by” Moses, the “name” he declared to him was the description Richard Rohr cites today from Ex. 34:6-7.
Moses experienced God’s glory when he heard God’s own affirmation of his steadfast love for his people. John testified that he and the other disciples experienced God’s glory when they looked into the face of Jesus the Messiah and saw that same steadfast love, the love that led him through Holy Week to the cross.
This is a week to experience the glory of God. May each of us find it in the faithful love displayed in Jesus.
Yahweh, Yahweh, a God of tenderness and compassion, slow to anger, rich in kindness, and abounding in faithfulness. For the thousandth generation, Yahweh maintains his kindness, forgiving all our faults, transgressions, and sins.
• Exodus 34:6-7
In this marvelous early affirmation, we have, in the words of Walter Brueggemann, “a formulation so studied that it may be reckoned to be something of a classic, normative statement to which Israel regularly returned, meriting the label ‘credo.'” [1] In it are found five generous and glorious adjectives that describe the heart and soul of Israel’s belief. Somehow, against all odds and neighbors, they were able to experience a God who was merciful (in Hebrew, rhm), compassionate/gracious (hnn), steadfast in love (hsd), tenaciously faithful (’emeth) and forgiving (ns’). This is the dynamic center of their entire belief system, as it should be ours, and like all spiritual mystery, seems to be endlessly generative and fruitful, culminating in the full-blown–and literally unthinkable–concept of grace.
In Ezekiel, chapters 36-37, Yahweh really chews Israel out, telling the people, in effect, through the prophet, “You haven’t done anything right, you’ve missed the whole point.” Yahweh disqualifies the children of Israel as a worthy people, almost as if to tell them to throw the whole thing out and start over. Then, seemingly out of nowhere (but really coming from divine mercy, which is always present), Yahweh promises to rebuild the project from the bottom up, and says, “I am not doing this for your sake, house of Israel, but for the sake of my holy name” (Ezekiel 36:22). God is God’s own reference point. God is being true to Godself in loving. God’s faithfulness has never been dependent on our worthiness or readiness. This is restorative justice, the divine form of justice.
The word that is translated as “steadfast love” is often rendered “covenant love” or “faithful love.” Today we often call it unconditional love. It’s “one-sided love,” if you will, because Israel never keeps its side of the covenant, just as we never keep our side of the relationship to this day. Yahweh has learned to do it all from God’s side since we are basically unreliable as lovers. That is the constant message of much of the Hebrew Scriptures from Moses to Job. Yet, as Paul says, “Is it possible that Yahweh has rejected his people? Of course not!” (Romans 11:1). Israel is a stand-in for everything.
Thomas B. Jeffery in his first automobile (1897). He was still making bicycles at the time.
Today, we look at the origins of the Rambler automobile.
The Thomas B. Jeffery Company (he of Rambler bicycle manufacturing) began building one-cylinder Ramblers in a converted 19th-century bicycle plant in Kenosha, Wisconsin. By the late 1890s Jeffery, along with his son Charles, was smitten with the notion of building automobiles so he sold his interest in G&J Manufacturing (bicycle manufacturing), bought the old Sterling Bicycle factory along Lake Michigan and, in 1901, began production of a runabout he called the Rambler.
That first Rambler was similar in design to other early motor cars such as the Oldsmobile Curved Dash. It was a simple “buckboard” chassis with a steering tiller and a small engine mounted behind the seat. (Son Charles had experimented with two radical improvements, a front-mounted engine and a steering wheel but he couldn’t talk his father into adopting them until later.)
By 1914, the cars Jeffery made were quite sophisticated and luxurious. Jeffery died in 1916 and the children renamed the Ramblers, “Jeffreys” in his honor.
Thomas B. Jeffery was a ramblin’ man. Let’s join him today. Time to ramble!
According to Religious News Service, the organization Bill Gothard founded received more bad news this week.
Bill Gothard’s Institute in Basic Life Principles has lost its membership in the Evangelical Council for Financial Accountability, which gives accreditation to leading Christian nonprofit organizations.
Its membership was terminated last Friday (March 11) for failure to comply with its standards for governance, according to the ECFA website.
The loss of accreditation is yet another setback for the Institute in Basic Life Principles. Eighteen people are suing the Oak Brook, Ill.-based institute, and Bill Gothard, its 81-year-old founder, for sexual harassment.
Tullian, who had been involved in a scandal involving marital infidelity has been participating in a restoration process at Willow Creek Presbyterian Church in Winter Springs, Florida. This included a position in which he was working at the church.
But news came this week, that information about an additional, previously undisclosed affair has come to light, leading to the church firing Tullian from his position.
Last week, a ministry he founded, called Liberate, was relaunched. Those at the ministry said the former pastor’s restoration process was going well. However, four of the nine board members resigned this week in the wake of Tchividijian’s firing.
Tullian asked people to pray for all involved:
“Nothing grieves me more than the fact that people are suffering because of my sins, both in my past as well as in the present,” Tchividjian told CT. “I want to be perfectly clear that I take full responsibility for this. Please pray for those who are most deeply effected and please respect their privacy,” he said. “God knows how sorry I am for all the damage I’ve caused and the people who have been hurt. Please pray that the good work God has begun will be carried out to completion.”
One of the big news stories of this election year has been the support Donald Trump has received from those who identify as “evangelicals.”
Now, some have disputed that many of these folks are actually evangelicals, but there have been some voices from true leaders in the movement who have recommended that conservative Christians should support Trump if nominated. For example, Robert Jeffress, pastor of First Baptist Church in Dallas (12,000 members), appeared at Trump rallies earlier this year made comments indicating that he would back the businessman.
“I am not officially endorsing any candidate but I was happy to pray at Mr. Trump’s events on Saturday in Iowa and also to introduce him,” the pastor said. “And frankly, I would not have done that if did not believe that Mr. Trump could be a very effective President of the United States.”
Jeffress said that, despite potentially not being the strongest Christian in the field, there are many believers who see Trump as having the capability to take on Democratic candidates Hillary Clinton and Bernie Sanders.
“There are many Christians who would say that while Donald Trump may not be the best candidate to lead Bible studies in the Oval Office he very well may be the candidate that has the best chance of beating [them] in November,” the pastor told the Post. “I don’t believe a Christian has to sell his soul to the devil to vote for Donald Trump.”
Jeffress continued, ”I think electability is a very important issue because quite frankly, I don’t believe our nation can survive either Bernie Sanders or Hillary Clinton.”
But in an article this week, another evangelical pulled no punches in trashing Trump. Félix Cabrera is the pastor of Iglesia Bautista Central, a Southern Baptist congregation in Oklahoma City. He thinks if the nation were to elect Trump, it would indicate that God is casting down judgment upon our nation.
Donald Trump is racist, nativist, xenophobic, fascist, classist, narcissistic, arrogant, disrespectful, irreverent and a man without God. A self-proclaimed “Christian” who has said he never had to ask God for forgiveness.
If he has the “evangelical” vote it is because this sector which calls itself “evangelical” has not been born again, nor does it know the God of Scripture.
It is impossible that Donald Trump is a Christian with such an anti-biblical and immoral speech, including challenging God. Nor are those who follow him true Christians. You are what you worship. If you call yourself “Christian” and follow this individual, you need to repent.
My conclusion is that Donald Trump has awakened the “sleeping giant” of this nation — that racist, nativist and exclusivist feeling that dominated the United States of America for years. With the argument that we should make America “great” again, Trump has sold a “hope” to make America white, narcissistic, exclusivist and racist again.
If that is the position of those who follow and vote for him, do not “Christianize” your racist, nativist, narcissistic and exclusivist arguments. If you like the people of Israel, want another Saul, again, you are within your rights, but do not forget that you will have to face the consequences.
Each debate, caucus and state election process that I see reminds me even more the words of John Calvin:
“When God wants to judge a nation, he gives them evil rulers.”
Sea World announced this week that it is ending its Orca breeding program.
Danny Lewis reports the story at Smithsonian:
It has not been an easy few years for SeaWorld. After a series of high-profile protests following the 2013 premier of the documentary Blackfish, SeaWorld has fought against allegations of inhumane conditions and abusive treatment of its 23 captive orcas. Last November, the company announced that it will phase out its once-popular “Shamu Shows” by 2017—the same month that legislators in the California House of Representatives proposed a bill banning orca breeding throughout the state.
“Times have changed, and we are changing with them,” SeaWorld wrote in a statement. “We love our whales and so do many of our visitors and this is about doing the best thing for our whales, our guests, our employees and SeaWorld.”
Sea World stopped capturing orcas from the wild a long time ago, so the ones currently at the park will be the last generation to live there.
And just to give you a sample of the well-written satire at The Babylon Bee, let’s take a closer look at the last story in that list:
SUN VALLEY, CA—John MacArthur, pastor of Grace Community Church and president of The Master’s College and Seminary, has made a lofty promise to his congregation. He has reportedly committed to building a 20-foot thick, 30-foot high concrete wall around the entire perimeter of the church campus in order to keep out charismatics that might otherwise infiltrate their ranks.
“I will build a great wall, God willing—and nobody builds walls better than me, believe me—and I’ll build it very biblically. I will build a great, great wall all around our campus–and I’ll make the Pentecostals pay for the wall. Mark my words,” MacArthur was quoted as saying Friday.
It was during MacArthur’s keynote speech at his Shepherd’s Conference last week, hosted by GCC, he unveiled the first details of the massive structure. “These little lines all up on top of the wall? They’re 50-caliber Browning machine guns,” he intoned proudly. “When you factor in the barbed wire, 24/7 guard patrols, and boiling hot buckets of tar kept at the ready, there’s no way the strange-fire-starters are making it through. They’ll be slain alright, but not in the Spirit!”
The estimated cost for the project exceeds $700 million, a cost MacArthur states will be billed directly to various charismatic organizations.
It is Holy Week in the Western Church, and time to listen to one of the greatest works in music history: Bach’s St. Matthew Passion.
Today, I offer you something a little different than our normal brief one-song video. In the NPR series, Milestones of the Millennium, they put together a terrific “Visitor’s Guide” to the SMP. This is an extended program, and I give it to you today as a gift for the entire time of Holy Week.
Take some time throughout the days to come: listen, learn, and enjoy the glories of some of the greatest music ever composed.
And all in service of the cross.
✞
Note: In commemoration of Holy Saturday, we will not publish Ramblings next week.
Jesus called them and said to them, “You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all.”
• Mark 10:42-44
• • •
The older I get, the more my definition of “greatness” changes.
For many of us who grew up in the age of mass media, great has often equaled “famous” in our minds.
The great are those with public celebrity. Whose faces are seen in print and on screen. Whose words are captured in sound bites and interviews. Whose stories are chronicled in memoirs, biographies, and documentaries.
Household names.
Many of them have earned the respect of acquaintances and audiences far and wide. Their prodigious talents and gifts, and their impressive achievements and awards speak for themselves. They work hard, with tireless dedication and lofty ambitions. They reach for the stars, and give off their own glow in the process. We call them heroes and examples — “Person of the Year!” — and reserve places of honor for them on walls and in halls of fame.
In religious circles, these are the “stars” who write the books and articles everyone reads and quotes. They lead the large churches and mission organizations. Reporters seek out their opinions on the state of the culture, for they are the “face” of the faith in the world’s eyes. You’ll find them headlining at all the top conferences. They are the trend-setters and pacesetters. The phrases everyone likes to use were coined or popularized by them. They can answer the hard questions, unravel the conundrums, make the mysteries of faith seem simple and straightforward. They inspire people to copy their style and methods in hopes of finding the same success. They are the pioneers, the entrepreneurs, the visionaries. They were made for the spotlight, and the camera and microphone love them.
The older I get, the more I appreciate many of these remarkable people. A number of them are truly “great” people.
However, the older I get, the less desire I find within me to have any part of their world.
For I have seen, year after year after year, other kinds of “greatness” that are much more attractive to me.
I have seen the greatness of women who lose their husbands unexpectedly, and then devote themselves for the rest of their lives to caring for others less fortunate.
I have seen the greatness of parents, who show relentless concern and care for their children.
I have met countless great people whose claim to fame is that they made it through the Great Depression, survived World War II, built a simple, honest life, and provided for their families the best they could.
I’ve seen the greatness of coaches and mentors, who give of their time so that children and young people can have fun learning skills and playing sports.
I have seen the greatness of new Christians in a small village in India. They were the first believers ever in that ancient place, just a few humble folks who will likely never travel far from there. We met together in one of their houses, and I sat on the bed while they sat on the floor and listened to me teach them about being baptized.
I have seen the greatness of a young man who kept his courage and sense of humor while battling brain cancer for a year and a half, his family who suffered with him with unwavering support and dignity, and a community that lovingly walked with them every step of the way.
I have seen the greatness of small church choirs, who practice week after week in order to bring a blessing to congregations that are sometimes smaller than the choirs themselves.
I have seen the greatness of those whose bodies are confined to wheelchairs or beds, whose minds are locked in the mysterious worlds of autism and Down Syndrome, whose interaction with others is limited by cognitive or speech impediments; those who live in regular dependence on others for assistance, yet who give so much love and joy in return.
I have seen the greatness of pastors, who stay in small churches and small towns and serve faithfully for their entire careers.
I have seen the greatness of young families who heard God’s call to foreign missions, who moved around the world at great sacrifice and experienced the adventure of sharing the Good News there.
I have seen the greatness of those who are unmarried and of infertile couples and of widows and widowers who keep coming to churches that neglect them as they build their programs around our culture’s idea of family.
Attorneys, doctors, nurses, teachers, policemen, storekeepers, business owners, tradesmen, farmers, realtors, and those who run restaurants — I have seen all of them and many others use what they gain through their hard work to give back to their neighbors and communities.
I have seen the greatness of families who learn that a loved one is terminally ill, who sign up for hospice, and roll up their sleeves to provide care for them day and night.
I have done funerals for many great people, though their obituaries listed few “achievements” other than the names of the people who remember them. Perhaps their greatness is simply found in the fact that they could live seventy or eighty years in this hard, hard world and find a bit of love.
I am learning the greatness of a Savior who was born and raised in obscurity, whose life was confined to a dusty outpost in the Roman empire, who died naked and falsely accused, who didn’t even make a big “splash” when he rose from the dead, but instead revealed himself to people weeping in gardens, walking along roads, and eating in upper rooms.
The older I get, the more my definition of “greatness” changes.
I have found myself in an interesting position lately.
I’ve been preaching at a small, rural Lutheran church about fifteen miles from my home. It is a sweet, traditional congregation, a church that was founded in 1838. For some time now, they have had a semi-retired pastor serving them. They are too small to support a full-time minister, but this gentleman has been a good fit. Recently, the last remaining elderly member of his family passed away, and now he and his wife are ready to embrace a fuller retirement and travel together. The church is wondering what will happen.
They have asked me to help out over the past year on Sundays when their pastor was away, and I have gladly obliged. I miss preaching and leading worship, and delight in the opportunity whenever I can.
Of course, there are barriers. Because I didn’t complete the call process in the ELCA, my ordination (granted by a non-denominational church) is still not accepted by the denomination, so I can’t preside at the Table. The leaders have to ask permission of the Bishop every time they want me to serve communion, and it’s a hassle. So mostly we have services of the Word.
I’ve made my feelings known here about communion — I have come to think our worship is not completely “Christian” or satisfying without it — so I miss it tremendously when I cannot share the Table with my brothers and sisters.
While this has been going on, a few weeks ago the pastor in our home church resigned. This is a big deal. He planted the church twenty years ago and has been the only minister the congregation has known. He’ll be moving on to another call, and for the first time, these good folks will go through the process of seeking a new pastor.
The first thing the chairman of the Council did was call me. I have often preached when our pastor was on vacation, and the church generously supported me when I was going through my ordination process with the ELCA a couple of years ago. The pastor was something of a renegade when it came to denominational rules, and he himself considered my ordination valid, so he rarely objected to me presiding at the Table. There were times when it was appropriate to seek higher permission, such as when I filled him for him while he took a sabbatical, but otherwise I was able to minister freely and fully.
Since Palm Sunday, Holy Week, and Easter Sunday are upon us, the Council asked me to fill in so that the congregation could have a familiar friend leading these special services. I agreed to do so. I encouraged them to seek permission from the Bishop so that I might lead both in the Word and at the Table, and he has granted that. So, I’ll be leading worship, preaching, and presiding. I’m looking forward to it.
The Bishop also met with the Council last week and outlined a plan for the near future. I heard about the details today, and I think it’s well considered and should help the church make good decisions.
And here I am again.
If this had happened a year ago, it might have thrown me for a loop and had me questioning my calling and current vocation. But I’m content with how things are turning out. I’m a little frustrated at having to ask permission every time I want to serve communion, something I’ve done for almost forty years. I kick against the goads of denominational red tape. But on the other hand, I’m thankful that our church is not on its own to have to figure out what to do next.
My experience as a pastor in a non-denominational, free church setting made me a believer in denominational oversight, assistance, and accountability. Much as I hate bureaucracy and the inefficiency of their processes, their sometimes silly rules, and their tendency to rarely look outside the little box of “how we’ve always done it,” I see value in the help that is available to lay people in the church who are suddenly thrust into the position of having to seek a pastor, keep the congregation encouraged, and pay the bills until who knows when.
I also know God will provide, Jesus reigns, and the Holy Spirit is active, which is what my non-denominational friends will insist is all a church needs to consider. However, I don’t believe God generally works apart from means or without the cooperation and participation of his people. There was an “apostolic” level of oversight in the NT as well as local congregational life.
As for the little country church where I’ve been preaching, I don’t know what’s next in store for them. But I’ve learned a few things over the years, and I suspect that the denomination will not be placing them on the front burner. I may find myself tied up on Sundays for a while to come.
That would be fine with me. Just let me have a place at the Table, please.
For several years now, Pete has been on a journey, a wilderness journey, a post-evangelical journey like many of us here at Internet Monk. His honesty, humor, and willingness to reexamine his faith has been a great example for me. Nor does it hurt that the guy is a world-class Bible scholar, whose insights on the First Testament have been enlightening and inspiring to me in my own studies.
I was privileged to receive a review copy of The Sin of Certainty from HarperOne, Pete’s publisher, and I am currently working through it. Expect a review soon. For today, just a taste of what he has to say in this fine book.
Personally, I can’t help but think about the big questions of life and my own faith in particular. I went through nine years of seminary and doctoral work in biblical studies, not just to avoid getting a real job, but because I am naturally drawn to thinking about what I believe and why. I also like talking about what I think and tossing ideas back and forth, which is why I teach, blog, and write books like this one.
So I hope we are all on the same page here. I’m not saying that the life of the mind and working toward forming deeper thoughts about God are all bunk. The life of faith and the life of thought are not opposite ends of the spectrum.
Rather, I’m talking about a deeper, subtler, even subconscious problem that definitely isn’t limited to Bible students or other sorts of eggheads but is part of the daily struggles of normal everyday Christians.
The deeper problem here is the unspoken need for our thinking about God to be right in order to have a joyful, freeing, healing, and meaningful faith.
The problem is trusting our beliefs rather than trusting God.
The preoccupation with holding on to correct thinking with a tightly closed fist is not a sign of strong faith. It hinders the life of faith, because we are simply acting on a deep unnamed human fear of losing the sense of familiarity and predictability that our thoughts about God give us. Believing that we are right about God helps give us a sense of order in an otherwise messy world. So when we are confronted with the possibility of being wrong, that kind of “faith” becomes all about finding ways to hold on with everything we’ve got to be right.
We are not actually trusting God at that moment. We are trusting ourselves and disguising it as trust in God.
The far-reaching, the boundless future will be the era of American greatness. In its magnificent domain of space and time, the nation of many nations is destined to manifest to mankind the excellence of divine principles; to establish on earth the noblest temple ever dedicated to the worship of the Most High — the Sacred and the True.
• John L. O’Sullivan, 1839
God has given this earth to those who will subdue and cultivate it, and it is vain to struggle against His righteous decree.”
• Horace Greeley, 1859
God is using the Anglo-Saxon to conquer the world for Christ by dispossessing feeble races, and assimilating and molding others.
• James H. King, Methodist minister (NY), 1887
• • •
Civil Religion, part four The Second Great Awakening and Manifest Destiny
Presidential election years in the U.S. provide American Christians an opportunity to reflect upon our faith and how it applies to our lives as citizens and to the public issues that affect us all. We are taking many Tuesdays throughout 2016 to discuss matters like these.
The 19th century has been called the “Christian century” in U.S. history. This was sparked by theSecond Great Awakening (1790-1820), which had profound effects on the religious, social, and moral culture of the U.S., as described here by Richard Hughes:
Though the Second Great Awakening grew from relatively small beginnings at opposite ends of the country, it quickly cascaded into a national revival that lasted some thirty years. The revival did not rely upon preaching alone. Revivalists sought to ban the Sunday delivery of mails and restrict the consumption of liquor. They launched innumerable efforts to evangelize both the nation and the larger world. They created the American Bible Society to distribute Bibles, the American Tract Society to distribute Christian literature, and the American Education Society to promote Christian education at the outposts of the American frontier. Indeed, they established church-related colleges throughout the nation at such a rapid pace that, by 1860, the number of these colleges had reached 173, up from only 9 in 1780.
• p. 122
Though many have posited that the U.S. had Christian beginnings, in fact the period right after the Revolution marked the low point of religious belief and observance in the country’s history. And when it came to statements that shaped our form of government, the Founders took pains to keep specifically Christian doctrines out of the documents of origin. For example, the Declaration of Independence was written on the basis of truths that are “self-evident” and not dependent upon divine revelation in the Bible. The Constitution does not mention God, separates church from state, and prohibits any religious test for office-holders.
From the standpoint of religious leaders, the infant republic was in need of revival, and it came soon after the U.S. became a nation, lasting for three decades in its formative years.
In New England and the east, preachers like Charles Finney and Lyman Beecher promoted both evangelical fervor and social change. Educational institutions were born. Interdenominational mission societies were formed to evangelize those going west. The cause of abolition grew and spread, as did temperance movements and charitable efforts to serve the poor, the imprisoned, and the mentally ill. In the Appalachian regions, revivalists led camp meetings, and Methodist and Baptist churches, with their circuit riding preachers and emphasis on lay ministry were founded all across the Midwest and South. Off-shoot groups like the Mormons and Seventh Day Adventists were also born during this time, and as the country moved west, so did they.
Though the Second Great Awakening might be characterized as a “Christian” revival, it was a specifically Protestant movement.
…we should note that the Second Great Awakening pursued one objective in addition to those already mentioned: The Great Awakening was in many respects an attempt to save the nation from the threat Protestants perceived in the rapid growth of Roman Catholicism on America’s shores. By the beginning of the nineteenth century, Catholics had grown from some 20,000 during the colonial period to 40,000, and by 1850, that number had swelled to 1,606,000. Because Protestants felt that the Catholic Church was, in principle, inimical to the cause of liberty, the Second Great Awakening was not so much an effort to Christianize the nation as to Protestantize the nation.
• p. 123
In combination with the westward expansion of the nation, the Second Great Awakening contributed to a development in the U.S. understanding of its place as a nation specially chosen by God. The New England Puritans’ sense that they were a “new Israel,” called to be a “city on a hill,” now morphed into the doctrine of “Manifest Destiny.“
In 1845, an unsigned article in a popular American journal, a long standing Jacksonian publication, the Democratic Review, issued an unmistakable call for American expansionism. Focusing mainly on bringing the Republic of Texas into the union, it declared that expansion represented “the fulfillment of our manifest destiny to overspread the continent allotted by Providence for the free development of our yearly multiplying millions.” Thus a powerful American slogan was born. “Manifest Destiny” became first and foremost a call and justification for an American form of imperialism, and neatly summarized the goals of the Mexican War. It claimed that America had a destiny, manifest, i.e., self-evident, from God to occupy the North American continent south of Canada (it also claimed the right to the Oregon territory including the Canadian portion). “Manifest Destiny” was also clearly a racial doctrine of white supremacy that granted no native American or nonwhite claims to any permanent possession of the lands on the North American continent and justified white American expropriation of Indian lands. (“Manifest Destiny” was also a key slogan deployed in the United States’ imperial ventures in the 1890s and early years of the twentieth century that led to U.S. possession or control of Hawaii and the Philippine Islands.)
But Manifest Destiny was not simply a cloak for American imperialism and a justification for America’s territorial ambitions. It also was firmly anchored in a long standing and deep sense of a special and unique American Destiny, the belief that in the words of historian Conrad Cherry, “America is a nation called to a special destiny by God.” The notion that there was some providential purpose to the European discovery and eventual conquest of the land masses “discovered” by Christopher Columbus was present from the beginning. Both the Spanish and the French monarchs authorized and financed exploration of the “New World” because, among other things, they considered it their divinely appointed mission to spread Christianity to the New World by converting the natives to Christianity. Coming later to the venture, the British and especially the New England Puritans carried with them a demanding sense of Providential purpose.
One of the doctrinal developments in many Christian groups that fed this sense of destiny was an increased emphasis upon millennialism and other forms of eschatological teaching. Some, like Finney and Beecher, claimed that America would be the site of the millennium, bringing it to pass by the triumph of American liberty and democracy. To them, the Awakening was a sure sign of the golden age’s soon arrival. Other groups, like the Mormons, developed elaborate eschatological schemes. Salt Lake City was envisioned as the Holy City in the wilderness from which all America would become “God’s Zion.”
Of course, Manifest Destiny was also a predominantly white, Anglo-Saxon Protestant ideal. In John Gast’s idealistic portrayal of “American Progress” at the top of the post, you can see that it is white men who are moving forward and westward, led by the angel of progress, while the Native Americans and buffaloes retreat.
It is important to remember that, as originally conceived, Manifest Destiny was an unabashedly prejudiced idea. It rested upon the sidelining or eradication (both real-world and fictional) of American Indian peoples; there was little place for African Americans (free or enslaved) within the trope; Asian and Hispanic immigrants did not figure in the ideal America it conjured. Catholics were generally ignored; women were deemed unimportant. The peoples who were meant to conquer the continent were white, Protestant, and overwhelmingly male, with an unquenchable thirst for free enterprise.
Despite the influence of the Second Great Awakening inspiring religious fervor, moral reforms, and a somewhat expanded palette of participation that began to give hope for freedom to women and African-American slaves, the doctrine of Manifest Destiny was advanced by white men primarily for white men.
In the “Christian” century, the unique experiences of Americans with regard to the frontier shaped our view of democracy, our sense of progress, and, for white American Protestant Christians, the way we think about the faith. Even today Manifest Destiny thinking continues to weave its threads through both our national identity and the “American religion.”
By the end of the 19th century, Frederick Turner would write his important work, The Significance of the Frontier in American History (1894), in which he would assert, “This, at least, is clear: American democracy is fundamentally the outcome of the experiences of the American people in dealing with the West.”
Despite the chastening of a devastating Civil War, the doctrine of Manifest Destiny reared its head once more as the 1800’s came to a close. Many Christians near the turn of the century, who had imbibed the syncretistic notion of Christianity mixed with Manifest Destiny, showed the effects of this potent potion when they approved the U.S. invasion of the Philippines, justifying the war in terms both religious and idealistic:
In 1885 Americans began to read the enormously popular book by Josiah Strong entitled Our Country. There Strong praised the Anglo-Saxon race— and by implication, the United States— as “the representative . . . of the purest Christianity.” Its Christian character coupled with its love for liberty, he believed, had uniquely equipped this nation “to impress its institutions upon mankind . . . [and] spread itself over the earth.” The Anglo-Saxon race, he argued, “is destined to dispossess many weaker races, assimilate others, and mold the remainder, until in a very true and important sense it has Anglo-Saxonized mankind.”
How God Ruined Church for Me An edited version of a 2007 post by Michael Spencer
You see, it’s supposed to work like this: The world of churches is like a big mall, and there are many different kinds of stores. You choose one store–ONE–and you go there for everything you need. You are LOYAL to that store. You BELIEVE in that store and what it’s all about; in the way it does things. You persuade others that your store is the one and only store real shoppers patronize. You buy name brand merchandise at every opportunity. It’s your store. Yes, there is a mall, but you only need one store.
Remember when your dad said he was a “Chevy” man? And you mom said we buy all our groceries at the Blue Bell market? Remember when you decided your school, this college, that team were all “yours?” And you were ready to argue the point of your loyalty? Churches are like that. You choose, and you stay with your choice.
Here’s something I’ve noticed: It felt good to know what you were. It felt good to have a team, a brand, a store, a school and a church. You knew who you were and what you were all about. Things were simpler. Lots of decisions already made; lots of questions already answered.
I know many people who still live in this world. They are shopkeepers in the mall. They are employees and customers of their chosen store. Presbyterianism. Roman Catholicism. Southern Baptist fundamentalism. TBN Pentecostalism.
When you come in to shop, they are very happy. But when you say you are leaving and going to another store, or several other stores, they are unhappy. They want to persuade, convince and bribe. They may be nice or angry. They may insist that it’s wrong to go to another store, that you’re making a terrible mistake and wasting your money and time. They can make you feel very guilty and uncomfortable, like you are doing something wrong.
They believe, you see, that Jesus came to found their particular chain of stores. Jesus was the founder of their store. It’s right there in the Bible as they read it, and they can prove it to you if you’ll just stop and listen to their favorite teacher. There are people I know who have bought into this in one store, and another and then another. They are on their third or fourth final choice of a store to patronize. Why shouldn’t you do the same? Don’t you want to be right?
And then there are those of us who, because God has ruined our shopping trip by showing us the good and the not so good in all these stores, are trying to shop in the whole mall and get back home. When God ruined everything for us by showing us the value and the limitations of all the stores, he didn’t give us the gift of feeling great about never really having a “home” of our own.
Do you know that feeling? Denise and I were tearfully talking about it today. It’s grown and grown over our lives. We’ve been Baptist and we are Baptist, but we can’t go all the way with Baptists. We’ve been Calvinists and Presbyterian, but we can’t go all the way. We love the Anglican and Episcopal churches, with their wonderful worship and liturgy. We find ourselves in Catholic churches a couple of times a year, and we’re deeply drawn by what we see, hear and experience, but we can’t go all the way and buy into it. Not with any of them.
The more these various groups contend that Jesus is the exclusive sponsor of their stores, the less I want to do more than visit them. I love the whole mall. I feel I belong, in some way, to all of these traditions, but not wholly to any one of them.
It is particularly hard for those of us who have been raised deeply rooted in the local church. We never feel entirely right if we are not part of a church. We’ve grown up on preaching that presented and defended church membership as identical with discipleship. (If you are a Southern Baptist of my generation, you know what church activity you should be at most every day of the week.) Even with a more honest reading of the New Testament’s view of the church as an outpost of the Kingdom and not a franchise of a denomination, it is uncomfortable to feel exiled and away from a local church.
One side is the possibility of being part of any local church and receiving what Jesus provides through his people. On the other is the demand to accede to a particular church’s agenda, theology, program, schedule and need for resources. It is hard to be “part” and yet say “No” to so much of what makes up a church.
Yet I am encouraged and press on, because, as I said, it is God who ruined church for me.
Abraham met one man in his lifetime who worshiped the God he was following. God works in his own time, and those of us who find ourselves unable to buy into denominationalism are seeing God do a great thing in his church. We need to nurture it in ourselves and pass it on to our children. And yes, blame God, for he is the author and finisher of our faith and of our journey in the post-evangelical wilderness.
Lent V Richard Rohr on the Humility of John of the Cross
On Sundays in Lent this year I’m sharing some things I’ve been learning from Richard Rohr.
This Sunday’s Gospel text, the story of Mary anointing Jesus in anticipation of his death and burial, portrays the woman as a person of humble devotion. She entered a public space, hair let down (scandalous!), and emptied her expensive jar of perfume on Jesus, wiping his feet with her hair. Jesus took this as an act anticipating his death and burial, and commended her.
In the context of John’s Gospel, Mary serves as a foil both to those who found themselves threatened by Jesus in their self-righteousness and pride and who therefore plotted against him (11:45-47), and the disciples, who had to be shamed by Jesus into washing one another’s feet (13:1-15).
Mary’s humble love and devotion, like the fragrance that filled the room that night, is potent and attractive.
Richard Rohr finds a similar fragrance in St. John of the Cross’s teachings about humility.
John of the Cross understood the true meaning of humility, which is not self-deprecation or low self-esteem, but a simple acknowledgment that I am very small, quickly passing, and insignificant as a separate self. That is just objective truth. Our dignity and sacredness precisely comes from our connection. With this deep and experienced and inherent connection, John was free to rest in a union that could not be taken from him.
Mirabai Starr expresses John’s longing in her own beautiful words:
“In the dark night, says John, the secret essence of the soul that knows the truth is calling out to God: Beloved, you pray, please remind me again and again that I am nothing. Strip me of the consolations of my complacent spirituality. Plunge me into the darkness where I cannot rely on any of my old tricks for maintaining my separation. Let me give up on trying to convince myself that my own spiritual deeds are bound to be pleasing to you. Take all my juicy spiritual feelings, Beloved, and dry them up, and then please light them on fire. Take my lofty spiritual concepts and plunge them into darkness, and then burn them. Let me love only you, Beloved. Let me quietly and with unutterable simplicity just love you.” [1]
In the dark night of the soul, the only thing left to do is to let go of the ego’s need for self-importance and validation and simply turn our attention toward God. There is no need any longer to achieve or manufacture our union with God. Soft piety and sweet feelings are no longer necessary. God is much more trustworthy and solid than feelings. We are henceforth able to give ourselves over to a now natural flow of loving and being loved. What once seemed impossible and “supernatural” is now enjoyed as both total gift and yet totally natural to our deepest being.
To John, humility meant accepting our unquenchable thirst and need for God and acknowledging our emptiness at the same time–they work together! This is why the contemporary “I am special” and “I have dignity” eventually falls apart for lack of foundation. This is hard to say, with so many people today having such low or disguised self-esteem, but that is precisely what the mystics want to address. I want to offer you here, through them, an objective (philosophical, theological, metaphysical) foundation for a positive self-image, which can never be taken from you. It does not come and go; it is you at your deepest core. This is the ecstasy of John and Teresa.
One of the pioneers in the modern American transportation industry was Colonel Albert A. Pope. In the late 1800’s, he turned Hartford, Connecticut into the bicycle capital of the world. Pope later took control of the “bicycle trust”, which had consolidated many of the major bicycle manufacturers in the country, and then folded it, along with his Pope Motor Company into The Pope Manufacturing Company, which produced both bicycles and automobiles. He led a movement for better roads across America, became the first person to use mass production practices in making automobiles, and was a pioneer maker of the electric car.
Today’s Rambler photo is of a motorized bicycle made by Pope’s American Cycle Manufacturing Co. Jim O’Hair at Hemmings gives the background to this vintage machine:
Rambler Cycles were part of the American Cycle Manufacturing Company, along with other small bicycle companies such as Cleveland, Columbia, Crescent, Imperial and Tribune, and were built by Albert Pope. Rambler and the American Cycle Company were both fairly short-lived as the Rambler brand name disappeared in 1904 and the company stopped producing bicycles in 1905. Pope went on to manufacture motorcycles of renown in Hartford, Connecticut, from 1911 to 1914 and then in nearby Westfield, Massachusetts, from 1914 to 1918. Models included both single-cylinder Popes and V-Twins after 1912.
The Rambler was unique when it was produced because the frame was designed specifically to accommodate an engine and has a longer wheelbase than a conventional bike frame. The 1902 Rambler is considered to be one of the oldest and most original American production machines in existence. Like the 1901 Indian Camelback, both were being sold well in advance of the first Harley-Davidsons in 1903.
A recent Pew survey ought to make U.S. Christians who consider evangelical “Christian Zionism” — unquestioning support of the modern state of Israel — a central tenet of correct Bible interpretation think twice. Christians in Israel, it seems, don’t agree. According to a report in Christianity Today:
American Christians have largely supported the modern-day Zion; in 2013, 82 percent of white evangelicals believed that God gave the land of Israel to the Jews. In contrast, only 19 percent of Christians actually born, raised, and living in Israel believe that God gave the land of Israel to the Jewish people. Significantly more than half (66%) believe this is not literally true, while another 9 percent don’t know what to think.
…The vast majority of Israeli Christians (86%) believe the United States is too supportive of Israel. Just 6 percent said the American government wasn’t supportive enough, while 7 percent said the level of US support was just right. The numbers stand in stark contrast to the views of American Christians. A 2013 Pew study found that just 18 percent of them said the US is too supportive of Israel. Even fewer white evangelicals (12%) and black Protestants (16%)—two-thirds of whom identify as evangelical—said that America is too supportive of Israel.
You can read the rest of the survey results at the CT article. Same God, same Bible, vastly different backgrounds and experiences. Quite different perspectives. Huh.
Alert reader and IM contributor Randy Thompson (who has a great sense of humor, by the way) sent me this hilarious story from South Africa. Now, there are questions about its veracity, but that’s okay, it’s worth a Saturday morning laugh, fiction or non-.
A self-styled Christian prophet reportedly tried to prove himself by charging lions at Kruger National Park in South Africa, under the belief that God would intervene.
Instead of being prevented from attacking Alec Ndiwane, one of the lions tore a piece out of his rear end.
Ndiwane is expected to recover.
According to South Africa’s Daily Post newspaper, Ndiwane and members of his church were recently driving by a pack of lions eating an impala. Ndiwane went into a trance, began speaking in tongues, jumped out of the vehicle and ran towards the pack.
The lions charged.
Ndiwane quickly high-tailed it back to the vehicle, but before he could reach safety, one of the lions swatted at him with a clawed paw and slashed his butt.
“I do not know what came over me,” Ndiwane told the Daily Post. “I thought the Lord wanted to use me to show his power over animals. Is it not we were given dominion over all creatures of the earth.”
The newspaper reported that Ndiwane feared he would lose his left buttock, but emergency surgery saved his rear end.
What we have here is another Christian who abandoned his convictions just to save his own ass.
“Some 99 million years ago, 12 unsuspecting lizards stepped or fell into sticky tree resin and couldn’t tear themselves loose in the forests of what is now Myanmar. Over time that resin fossilized into amber, preserving the little lizards for scientists to study later. Now, researchers are looking to these prehistoric golden chunks to better understand how lizards have evolved.”
I share this story for two reasons:
First of all, the pictures are beautiful and the story intriguing.
Because “Lizards in Amber” may be the best name for a rock band that I’ve ever heard.
One forgets (or wasn’t there to experience) the kinds of crazy biblical interpretations people used to resort to in order to warn us about the modern world and the idol of progress, especially when it involved science and took place in the context of the Cold War.
Mr. Boone attempts to use the Bible to build his case that a rocket to the moon would not sit well with God in Heaven. He begins by claiming there are “three heavens,” drawing this conclusion from some verse fragments (particularly 2 Cor 12:2) and rabbinical writings. The susses out the three heavens thus: 1. The realm of gravity, 2. The sun, moon, and stars, and 3. The abode of God. He finds further evidence of this in the Bible’s frequent references to “the heavens” (plural), not simply “heaven.” Of course, if he was familiar with Hebrew, he would know that the word here (shamayim) is a dual form (i.e., two, not three) and that this form doesn’t necessarily mean anything about number (for example, the word mayim, which just means water, is also a dual form).
But let’s pretend there are “three heavens” as delineated by the author. So what? Well, according to Edward Boone (I don’t know why, but I just love that name), we’re okay to go up into the first heaven (still within the realm of gravity), but not into the second or third. The biblical evidence is supposedly Genesis 1:26-28, which limits man’s dominion to the water, the air, and the earth. Also offered as evidence is Psalm 115:16, which reads, “The heavens are the LORD’s heavens, but the earth he has given to the children of man.”
Man is thus in danger, from Boone’s point of view, of trespassing in forbidden territory. He doesn’t come right out and say it, but the author seems to think that going into space gets us that much closer to God’s abode in heave (Psalm 11:4), but without going through the proper channels—some kind of cosmic-spiritual loophole. Therefore, we’re in danger of following the path of Satan. To quote The Bible and Rockets to the Moon, “Every time a Sputnik or Explorer circles this globe with its ‘beep beep,’ it is . . . declaring that judgment is soon to visit . . . the whole WORLD.” (Emphasis original)
This desire to ignore God’s “No Trespassing” sign and thrust our way into his sacred backyard is anything but new, though. No, Boone sees this as the same prideful, man-centered spirit that led to the rebellion and disobedience present in the building of the Tower of Babel. In making this case, he selectively buys into certain Targums (Jewish interpretive translations) and makes bizarre leaps to try and paint a striking similarity between the Tower of Babel’s construction—in direct defiance of God—and those evil rockets to the moon, also in direct defiance of God.
Both projects are all about humans patting themselves on the back for what they’ve accomplished in order make a great name for mankind. Just like no one acknowledged the One True God in building the Tower (and subsequent empire) of Babylon, no one is acknowledging God in this race to the moon.
This composite video from NASA of Tuesday’s total solar eclipse lets us see the event not from the surface of the Earth, as most of us do, but from deep space, looking back at our beautiful blue marble. This clip is a mashup of 13 separate photos snapped on March 9 by the Earth Polychromatic Imaging Camera, or EPIC instrument, aboard the Deep Space Climate Observatory satellite.
Remember “blue laws?” I have such good memories of weekends when I was younger — surely filtered through years that tend to distance and sentimentalize them — when life seemed to move more slowly and freely. One important feature of those weekends was that on Sundays, most stores and businesses were closed. We didn’t even think about shopping or doing business on Sundays because it mostly wasn’t possible. Our minds as well as our schedules were freed from those kinds of concerns.
Well, they haven’t gone quite that far, but leaders in the UK think that keeping things slow on Sunday is still a good idea. CT reports on the UK’s decision to preserve limits on Sunday shopping:
The House of Commons voted that large stores in England and Wales can only be open a maximum of six continuous hours between 10 a.m. and 6 p.m. The stores must also close on Easter and Christmas.
Smaller stores—those that are 3,000 square feet or less—can be open all day.
A letter from the Evangelical Alliance approved the decision.
Sunday shopping laws protect “the common leisure time essential for family life and shared social activities” as well as “protect small stores from near-monopolies,” stated the letter, which included signatories from the Church of England and Church in Wales.
“Most fundamentally, however, we are concerned that the further deregulation of Sunday trading laws is likely to disrupt the rhythms of community life that are so integral to the common good,” they wrote. “In a world of increasing commodification the space for shared time and activities, central to human flourishing, is becoming increasingly rare. Needlessly extending Sunday opening hours will only exacerbate this trend.”
The San Diego Union Tribune reports that: “San Diego televangelist Morris Cerullo, widely known for his overseas healing crusades and the occasional legal skirmish, is now hoping to cement his spiritual legacy with the help of hologram-filled catacombs, a 20-foot tall wailing wall and an interactive Biblical museum.”
More than four years after purchasing a foreclosed Mission Valley hotel, the sometimes controversial Pentecostal preacher is banking on faithful followers and religious-minded tourists to flock to a planned Christian-themed resort that will transport visitors back to Biblical times with underground passages reminiscent of Rome, an homage to Jerusalem’s Western Wall, and a domed theater outfitted with full motion seats and sensory effects simulating wind, snow and fog.
The $125 million project, which still needs the approval of the San Diego City Council, promises to transform the 18-acre site of the nondescript Mission Valley Resort and mini-mart into a tourist destination that Cerullo’s world ministry is convinced can draw as many as 400,000 visitors a year….
…Part theme park, part vanity project celebrating Cerullo’s more than six decades of evangelical missions and teachings, the Legacy International Center, as it’s being called, will also serve as the new headquarters of his operation that took root here in the early 1960’s.
Cerullo’s ambitious foray into hospitality, though, will still showcase the luxury accoutrements one would expect of any self-respecting resort operator: a spa and fitness center, fine dining, dazzling fountains and well appointed suites. But an immersive 12-minute journey through the Bible, complete with mists of water during the parting of the Red Sea?
Or, as a verse from this week’s Gospel (John 12:1-8) says, “The poor you will have always, but you only get one chance to build a Christian tourist resort” (Mercer Perverted Translation).
The “Marble Machine” is a musical instrument by way of a Rube Goldberg contraption, the love child of a barrel organ, a kick drum, a vibraphone and a bass — all powered by hand-cranked gears and 2,000 steel marbles.
The machine was built by Swedish musician Martin Molin, who fronts the Swedish band Wintergatan. Molin told Wired UK that he had budgeted two months in his schedule to build his contraption. Instead, it has taken him 14.
The video, beautifully filmed and edited by Hannes Knutsson, gives you a real sense of the instrument’s size and engineering complexity in all of its carved wooden parts, which Molin built after drawing his design in 3-D software — the various elements are programmable, and Molin can change keys midsong. You can see videos about the process of creating the machine on Molin’s own website.
, due out in early April. I believe it will be a great gift to those with the courage to question.
Civil Religion, part four
The Internet Monk Archives 