Category Archives: books

So what did Tolkien think about weapon development during WWII and the Allied victory?

If it [WWII] had inspired or directed the development of the legend, then certainly the Ring should have been seized and used against Sauron; he should not have been annihilated but enslaved, and Barad-dur would not have been destroyed but occupied.  Saruman, failing to get possession of the Ring, would in the confusion and treacheries of the time have found in Mordor the missing links in his own researches into Ring-lore, and before long he would have made a Great Ring of his own with which to challenge the self-styled Ruler of Middle-earth.  In that conflict, both sides would have held hobbits in hatred and contempt: they would not long have survived even as slaves.

So were the Hobbits becoming identified with others in Tolkien’s mind at this point?  Did Chalmers Johnson read Tolkien?

The origin of “men are from Mars, women from Venus”?

“I first went to greet Hrothgar in his ring-hall, where Healfdene’s kinsman promptly assigned me a seat by his son and heir once my purpose was made plain to him. The company was joyous; never in my life have I heard under heaven’s vault such merriment of men over mead in the hall! The noble queen, the pledge of peace between nations, cheered the young clansmen by giving golden clasps to various ones before she sought her seat. Hrothgar’s daughter betimes carried the ale-cup to the princes in turn—I heard these hall-companions say when she offered carvings of gold to the warriors that her name was Freawaru. The gold-adorned maiden is pledged to the merry son of Froda. This seems sagacious to the keeper of the kingdom, that friend of the Scyldings: he deems it wise to wed the woman and ward off a massive blood-feud. But seldom does the slaughtering spear sleep for long, even though the bride is fair!

“The Heathobard lord will not well like it when he and all his liegemen see a Danish thane in that stalwart crowd accompany the lady in their hall, and upon him the ancient heirlooms gleam; hard and ring-covered, they are Heathobard’s treasure—weapons that they once wielded well until they lost loyal liegemen and their own lives in the game of battle. Then, while drinking ale, some old spear-fighter will gaze upon this heirloom and think of spear-brought death—he is somber and his heart is heavy—and he tries the temper and prods the soul of the young hero, awakening war-hate with words like these:

“ ‘Can’t you, my comrade, recognize that sword which your father carried in his final battle while wearing his helmet, when the Danes killed him, and the stout Scyldings took the field after the carnage and Withergild’s death? Now, the son of one of those murdering Danes, proud of the loot, walks into our hall and boasts of the slaughter; he’s wearing the treasure which you by right ought to own!’

“So he urges and goads him at every turn with galling words until the time comes that Freawaru’s thane must sleep in his blood, losing his life to sword-bite for his father’s deed. But the liegeman flies away, alive, to the land he knows. And thus the princes’ oaths on both sides would be broken when Ingeld’s breast swells with war-hatred, and the love for his wife grows cooler after those billows of care. So I do not highly esteem the Heathobard’s loyalty, nor do I deem their alliance with the Danes sincere or their friendship firm.

via Beowulf Text – Chapter XVIII.

So I’ve been listening to Seamus’ translation of Beowulf in audio (except I fell asleep last night and missed the beginning of the conflict with the Mother) and heard this aside (?) this morning.

It makes sense to deal with the social divisions of tribe and clan by intermarriage.  It even seems nice to see women as ambassadors of  peace, though Beowulf’s doubts that they are really enough make me worry.

Of course, ultimately it did work.  Virtually all Western Europe and more became one extended family of rulers.  But that explains the myth of the peasant wife for the king.  The ruled feel like they need to find a way to make peace with the tribe of rulers.  The locals feel that they are being snubbed for the sake of some foreign princess somewhere.

And, if a ruler does not really love his people, then a family spat with an in-law isn’t really going to be any more peaceful than a blood feud.  Unless he leads his men, he is more or less playing chess with their lives.

Not sure where this was going.  I just did not expect to encounter this in Beowulf and it has my mind buzzing a bit.

POSTSCRIPT: I said it “seems nice to see woman as ambassadors of peace.” Of course, the idea of daughters being pawns in realpolitik doesn’t seem nice at all.  I meant to mention that possibility and register my disgust.  Now I have.

Thinking fondly of James Graham right now

KidnappedSo I’m reading Kidnapped: Being Memoirs of the Adventures of David Balfour in the Year 1751 (Puffin Classics). And it occurs to me that Robert Louis Stevenson knew what he was doing naming the ship Covenant–the ship where David thought he was invited by a friend.  There are all sorts of ways a crew can kidnap you.  I’m thinking that Stevenson may have given the idea to John Buchan.

A book review of the Wright book on justification

Wright is bogging down the discussion by continuing to take dikaiosunē theou as a technical term for God’s covenant faithfulness without providing a convincing rationale. His justification-revision project may be crumbling on simple linguistics. In taking dikaiosunē theou as a technical term, Wright seemingly grants himself the freedom to disregard context when it fits his designs. (The phrase “technical term” in Wright nearly functions as a kind of signal to the reader that he is importing concepts not natively found in the text at hand; the phrase “controlling narrative” appears to be another such marker.) He uses dikaiosunē and pistis interchangeably when it fits his system and differently when it does not (p. 203). Wright cannot maintain “righteous” as “covenantally faithful” throughout his exegetical chapters, as his treatment of a key text like Romans 3:25–26 demonstrates (p. 206).

Along these lines, Wright’s explanation of 2 Cor 5:21 remains unpersuasive because he has not established that dikaiosunē theou means covenant faithfulness. Point after point, his exegesis is predicated on his understanding of dikaiosunē theou, but he provides no OT (or other) support for his view, merely assuming it as fact (p. 217). He then uses the phrase to draw in the “controlling narrative” of Israel and Abraham where it is not demonstrably in the apostle’s mind.

Here we locate a considerable difference between Piper and Wright. Piper may stand to reckon more with Abraham, but Wright has made too much of the patriarch. And in doing so, Wright is unwilling to work any further backward than Gen 12, saying that “Abraham is where it all starts” (p. 217). This gets at a sizeable shortcoming in Wright: He does not go back far enough and ask the ultimate questions. What is God’s purpose in creation before there ever was a covenant with Abraham—or ever was creation? Why most ultimately does God mean “to set the world to rights”? Was God righteous before he made a covenant with Abraham? Was he righteous before he created the world? Because Wright begins with Abraham and does not grapple with the ultimate questions, his base is shallow and the structure is unstable.

via Themelios | Issue 34-3.

Since I haven’t read either book, I can’t say too much about this. But 1) Wright has said repeatedly Abraham was a “new Adam” chosen to deal with sin and bring salvation (whether he reiterates the point in the book I cannot say); and 2) Wright’s view on the righteousness of God is, to my mind, completely convincing.  I am thankful to God I got pointed in this direction by Wright and find it incredible that people are digging in their heels on this point.  If there is a counter-argument, this review didn’t bother to articulate it.

Reader beware: Doug commends the review and Doug, unlike me, has read both books.  That is weighty to my mind, but so far I haven’t changed my opinion on the Wright that I have read.

Anti-Extreme-Fatalists?

So I got Anti-Calvinists: The Rise of English Arminianism c. 1590-1640 (Oxford Historical Monographs) out of the Library again (i.e. after doing it the first time twelve years ago).

I’ll probably be blogging some more about it.  In my opinion, the “extremism” of the Calvinists might explain why they were so credibly though slanderously lumped with the Puritans.

Here’s stuff I’ve posted from before:

Slandering the English Calvinists

Two Cheers for Arminianism

Someone should have told Cowper that election was good news

Oh, and that last one reminded me of an entry I had forgotten about that was posted by Jandy: on William Cowper.

By the way, the issue was not really “extreme fatalism” in the sense of absolute fore-ordination.  The issue was more the trap that Oedipus found himself in–where he is sent to his destiny despite his decisions and his moral character.

Open during the week

From James Hastings Nichols, Corporate Worship in the Reformed Tradition, p. 59.

The twentieth-century Protestant Church locked six days a week has no precedents in the Reformation.  All the Reformed churches of the sixteenth century conducted weekday services before and after working hours.  We have noted the Geneva schedule.  In Strassburg there was a weekday service of “morning prayer” with sermon in the parish churches at four or five o’clock in the morning.  The service consisted of the general confession, the reading of Scripture and an exhortation based upon it, a suitable pause for private prayers, closed by the minister with a collect and blessing.  For late risers there was also a daily sermon at eight o’clock in the cathedral.  The cathedral, again, was the scene for daily evening prayer with sermon.  In this fashion provision was made for virtually everyone to attend worship with Biblical sermon twice daily either in the cathedral or in parish churches.  Each series of services would follow its own systems of Bible readings , the Communion services on Sunday normally using the Gospels, the other services other portions of Scripture.

Presbyterianism = the haunting fear someone somewhere might hear unmediated Scripture?

From James Hastings Nichols, Corporate Worship in the Reformed Tradition, p. 102-103.

“Lecturing” was a running exposition of Scripture and was especially popular through the system of Puritan [i.e. not Presbyterian] “lectureships,” of endowed preaching posts outside the regular benefices.  The Directory permitted lecturing, but specified that Scripture was to be expounded, it should wait till the end of the chapter.  What was merely permissive soon became general practice.  The minister added an expository “lecture” to his reading of Scripture in addition to the sermon.  The Scots Assembly had to set the hour for morning worship half an hour earlier to accomodate the additional time added by the “lecturing.”

Scottish Episcopalians were better Presbyterians in worship

From James Hastings Nichols, Corporate Worship in the Reformed Tradition, p. 109.

…in most cases the legatees of the Westminster Assembly Puritans did not care to maintain the full prescriptions of the Directory.  The anti-liturgical current moved most of them still farther to the left.  Perhaps the most faithful exponents of the Directory after the Restoration were the Episcopalian minority in Scotland, who were distinguished, not by the Anglican prayer book, which they did not follow, but by their use of the Lord’s Prayer, the Creed, and the “Glory be to the Father” in a service modeled on the Westminster Directory.  The Church of Scotland itself had by the end of the century come close to the position maintained by the Congregationalists against the Presbyterians at the Westminster Assembly.  Presbyterians generally gave up the liturgical use of the Lord’s Prayer, despite the recommendations of the Directory, and adopted the Congregationalist fear of the uncommented reading of Scripture.  And eighteenth-century Scottish Presbyteians could get into trouble for following the instructions in the Directory as to reading Scripture and using the Lord’s Prayer.  Even metrical psalmody suffered.  The custom of “lining out,” conceded by the Directory in cases “where many in the congregation cannot read,” became the normal practice in Scotland and America in Presbyterian and Congregational churches.

Huguenots v. Puritans

From James Hastings Nichols, Corporate Worship in the Reformed Tradition, p. 109.

Some measure of the revolution effected by the Puritan movements in Reformed worship can be seen in the contrast with the French experience.  When the storm troopers of the Counter-Reformation drove the Huguenots by the thousands into exile abroad in the 1680’s, many were brought into contace with the churches of England and her American colonies.  Although they were scarcely prepared to accept the Arminianism introduced by the court into Anglicanism in the 1620’s and [that was] virtually official since the Restoration, they found the worship of the English Presbyterians and Congregationalists equally alien.  In worship, the Book of Common Prayer seemed closer to the Calvinist heritage than did anti-liturgical Puritanism.

Congregational Psalmody in the Huguenot Church

From James Hastings Nichols, Corporate Worship in the Reformed Tradition, pp. 58, 59.

The Huguenots quite caught Calvin’s concept of congregational psalmody.  It became their hallmark, in homes, in corporate worship, or on the battlefield.  The French Discipline required all to own and bring their liturgical psalters, and to share in the singing.  The synods took the sung prayers very seriously.  Figeac censured the practice of lining out (1579).  Rochelle censured those who did not sing in service (1581).  Synods o fthe early seventeenth century required the use of the whole psalm and ruled against the use of one or two stanzas only.  They were not strictly held to the psalms.  Beza had introduced some hymns and these were authorized by the synod of Montpellier (1598).  However, in general, little but psalms were sung in the sixteenth- and seventeenth-century French Reformed Church.