Category Archives: History

Philippus Jacobus Hoedemaker vs. Abraham kuyper « Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam

Hoedemaker did not win the day with his theocratic principles, as Reuben Alvarado demonstrates in his 1992 lecture at the BH Conference. Hoedemaker stood firmly against Abraham Kuyper’s political pluralism. Even though Kuyper has been immensely helpful in bringing a thoroughness/completeness to the application of the Lordship of Christ in all areas of life, yet he failed to argue for the thoroughness/completeness of Christ’s Lordship in the political sphere. Hoedemaker, on the other hand, understood that if “antithesis” were faithfully applied then neutrality could not exist. To use Gary North’s terminology, Kuyper held to political polytheism, while Hoedemaker was the true theocrat in the Dutch Calvinist tradition. As Alvarado concludes, the Hoedemakerites are finally addressing the inconsistencies of Kuyper.

via Philippus Jacobus Hoedemaker vs. Abraham kuyper « Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam.

Confucian Economics

These, then, are examples of outstanding and unusually wealthy men. None of them enjoyed any titles or fiefs, gifts, or salaries from the government, nor did they play tricks with the law or commit any crimes to acquire their fortunes. They simply guessed what course conditions were going to take and acted accordingly, kept a sharp eye out for the opportunities of the times, and so were able to capture a fat profit. … There was a special aptness in the way they adapted to the times …. All of these men got where they did because of their devotion and singleness of purpose. … [T]here is no fixed road to wealth, and money has no permanent master. It finds its way to the man of ability like the spokes of a wheel converging upon the hub, and from the hands of the worthless it falls like shattered tiles. … Rich men such as these deserve to be called the “untitled nobility” …

via Roderick Long On Confucian Libertarianism | LILA RAJIVA: The Mind-Body Politic.

A problem with doctrinal development

The assumption is that the church is a building  being built, a tree growing up, or a human being maturing.

All are metaphors that apply in many cases (and the Bible does so), but they aren’t sufficient to justify a “theory” of doctrinal development.

The church is a pilgrim through the ages.  It constantly thinks it now knows reality only to find that reality has changed.  The church is a missionary assigned to move on into unknown territory.  Yes, what she has learned in past mission fields can help her.  But it can also delude her into thinking she knows all she needs to know.

And actually, she is many missionaries who go into different areas.  The idea that Evangelicals in Asia need to rehearse opinions about medieval superstitions, or celebrate something that happened in Germany in 1517, is bizarre.  That is not development.  It is imperialism.

The church has one and only one document that is sufficient to the ages, the Scriptures.  It is called to apply the Bible to the life it is living now.  Not live in dreams of the past.

I’ve always thought knowledge of history was essential for intelligent analysis.  But intelligent analysis is necessary to know what is worthwhile from history.

Tolkien as “my” Christian champion

A couple of articles I haven’t had time to fully digest yet as I speed ahead on my biography of Tolkien:

Both of these articles are quite worthwhile.  They are both, I think, hurt by a desire to “defend the Faith.”  Both have their particular virtues on that score as well.  The first of these is written by a person from the perspective of a modern traditionalist kind of conservative Presbyterians.  The second by an author who is writing to justify leaving that world of thought and society (more or less) and joining the Roman Catholic Church (that is not necessarily the point of the individual essay, but that is the overall perspective and purpose of the website).

In general, I think it is a good thing when Protestants love and appreciate Roman Catholic writers such as G. K. Chesterton or Flannery O’Connor.  I think it is a wholesome ecumenicism to appreciate Jesus’ gifts given to the whole Church from outside the Protestant world.  But I think it works when we frankly acknowledge where these people come from.

And, when it comes to fiction writing, I think we have a great deal to read from elsewhere.  Evangelical Calvinist culture in recent Western history is not overwhelmed with notable authors.  All the “Reformed and the Arts” Conferences seem a tacit acknowledgment that most creative types go elsewhere.  (In some ways, one could make the case that the PCA is for Hobbits.)

However, writing a glowing tribute in a very Protestant website, with a whimsical comparison of the Pope to the mouth of Sauron at the end, without ever mentioning that Tolkien was a staunch Roman Catholic, seems deficient to me.

But, at the same time, North American Roman Catholics speaking of the importance of “the Mass” to a man who got angry at the way that they do it, also seems lacking.  Tolkien was a pre-Vatican II Roman Catholic and the changes he lived to see greatly upset him.  Also, I believe that much of Tolkien’s view on myth and truth came from a variety of sources, not all Catholic or even Christian.  I am not confident (yet?) that the Mass is behind Sam’s comment about being inside a song.

I realize I’m a Protestant commentator, so I may simply be biased.  But then again Tolkien hung out with Protestants and with non-Christians (befriending and seeking input on writing and literature from C. S. Lewis when he was still mostly a skeptic).  In his youth, when he conspired with a group of close friends to create an artistic renewal, I don’t think any of them were Roman Catholic.  This doesn’t rule out Christian or even distinctively Roman Catholic influences, but it raises the possibility that looking for them for the purpose of emphasizing them may produce a distorted picture.

Tolkien and Elves, before and after

Before World War I, they were like this:

tinkerbell

They were called Elfs, Fairies, Goblins, Gnomes interchangeably.

Then J. R. R. Tolkien managed to survive WWI, probably because he got Trench Fever.

Convalescing and dealing with the death of friends, he wrote stories about Elves that looked like this:

legolas

By the way.  This is a very good book, but it is rather long and sometimes hard to follow.  It doesn’t cover Tolkien’s whole life, though it does arguably compensate for the amount of attention devoted to the “Inklings” stage in Tolkien’s career.

By the way (again), I’m writing a short biography of Tolkien myself.  Will let you know when there is more to know.

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.

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.