Author: BrJames

17Dec

The Good Place? (Beware of Spoilers)

You wake up, and find that you are sitting in a leather chair in a strange room that looks a bit like a physician’s office.  A pleasant bespectacled man tells you that you have died, and are now beginning your afterlife.  “Welcome to The Good Place,” he beams. You soon emerge into a sunny, pleasant “neighborhood” filled with saintly seeming people milling about and eating frozen yogurt. Yet not all is as it seems. For one thing, you clearly know that you don’t belong.  You were a terrible person in life.

This is the opening premise of the entertaining and thought provoking show, “The Good Place”.  Somehow I missed this on NBC and am now binge-watching reruns on a streaming service.  I will confine my remarks to the first season, but will directly discuss the shocking twist of the season finale.

Eleanor, a self-absorbed, semi-alcoholic woman whose life’s work was selling a fake product, finds herself dead and consigned to “The Good Place”, but she knows that she doesn’t deserve to be there.  A mistake has caused her to switch places with another who shared her name.  She decides to try to earn her place anyway and begins ethics lessons with a former ethics professor named Chidi.  Meanwhile she has a troubled and catty relationship with her neighbor, Tahani, a tall glamorous former philanthropist, who seems too good to be true, and has some subtle narcissistic traits.  After doing the right thing in the midst of numerous ethical dilemmas, Eleanor finally realizes something shocking: “This is actually the Bad Place, isn’t it?”

The show has been compared with the play “No Exit” by existentialist Jean-Paul Sartre, and this is apt.  The first season unfolds much like the famous scenario in Sartre’s book.  “No Exit” describes a version of Hell. Sartre, who was famous for saying, “Hell is other people” drafted a play in which three main characters are trapped together in a pleasant room. They are dead, and have been consigned to Hell.  They have been assigned to spend eternity together. It dawns on them that they are to be each other’s tormentors:

INEZ: Wait! You’ll see how simple it is. Childishly simple. Obviously there aren’t any physical torments—you agree, don’t you? And yet we’re in hell. And no one else will come here. We’ll stay in this room together, the three of us, for ever and ever. . . . In short, there’s someone absent here, the official tortur

GARCIN [sotto voce]: I’d noticed that.

INEZ: It’s obvious what they’re after—an economy of man power—or devil-power, if you prefer. The same idea as in the cafeteria, where customers serve themselves.

ESTELLE: What ever do you mean?

INEZ: I mean that each of us will act as torturer of the two others.

The three characters proceed to do just that, until finally Estelle cracks:

“Open the door! Open, blast you! I’ll endure anything, your red-hot tongs and molten lead, your racks and prongs and garrotes—all your fiendish gadgets, everything that burns and flays and tears—I’ll put up with any torture you impose. Anything, anything would be better than this agony of mind, this creeping pain that gnaws and fumbles and caresses one and never hurts quite enough.”

These parables accord with a more modern version of Hell, in which psychology replaces fire and brimstone as a metaphor for its torments. I think of C.S. Lewis, who wrote “It’s not a question of God ‘sending’ us to Hell. In each of us there is something growing up which will of itself be Hell unless it is nipped in the bud.”

Some have objected to this idea, as it underplays the justice and retribution aspects of Divine punishment. In Lewis’ view, and that of “The Good Place”, Hell is as much a self-inflicted torment as it is divinely appointed punishment.  

However, does it need to be “either / or”? Might it not rather be both?

15Dec

Prayer for the Third Sunday of Advent (Anglican)

Stir up thy power, O Lord, and with great might come among us; and, because we are sorely hindered by our sins, let thy bountiful grace and mercy speedily help and deliver us; through Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom, with thee and the Holy Ghost, be honor and glory, world without end. Amen.

08Dec

Prayer for the Second Sunday of Advent (Anglican)

Merciful God, who sent thy messengers the prophets to preach repentance and prepare the way for our salvation: Give us grace to heed their warnings and forsake our sins, that we may greet with joy the coming of Jesus Christ our Redeemer; who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

01Dec

Prayer for the First Sunday of Advent (Anglican)

Almighty God, give us grace that we may put away the works of darkness, and put upon us the armor of light, now In the time of this mortal life, in which thy Son Jesus Christ came to visit us in great humility; that in the last day, when he shall come again in his glorious majesty to judge both Ihe quick and the dead, we may rise to the life Immortal; through him who liveth and reigneth: with thee and the Holy Ghost, one God, now and forever. Amen.


11Oct

The God Who Notices You

My temptation is not so much toward a disbelief in God as toward a belief in an impersonal and philosophical God, a necessary being that is unknown and unknowable—something like the “first cause” of Plato and Aquinas. Such a being would answer the philosophical mysteries of our existence, and that of the universe, and yet not be interested in the lives of humans. Such a being would be unlike the God of Christianity.

Just how unlike struck me again recently. Upon reviewing the account of the widow of Nain, recorded in Luke chapter 7, a particular sentence popped out at me. As a recap of the story, Jesus and a crowd of his followers have reached the gate of a village and are blocked by a funeral procession for a dead boy. As the wailers cry out, and the casket is being hoisted aloft, we are told of the boy’s mother, a widow. Suddenly, “when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her.”

There it is! These are the words that on a casual reading can drift by unnoticed, but in fact are shocking and set Christianity apart from other religions. As the crowd later gasps upon seeing Jesus perform the miracle of restoring life to the boy: “God has visited his people!”

Jesus “saw” her. And more than that he noticed. He perceived her, with a gaze that pierces flesh and bone to see what is inside the mind, the soul. An old Anglican prayer begins, “Almighty God, unto whom all hearts are open, all desires known, and from whom no secrets are hid…” God sees you and notices you.

God isn’t some Unmoved Mover. He is not aloof, but rather is deeply and intricately involved in our lives. As those townspeople proclaimed, God has indeed visited His people. He came to us not as a vision or an idea, but as a person who could be seen, heard, touched, and mistreated. Furthermore, God notices individuals, and has compassion upon their plight. In other passages of the Gospels we see Jesus being moved to tears at the death of a friend, and showing anger at injustice. This is what sets Christianity apart from other belief systems.

It is radically different from other ancient religions, which had pantheons of gods who were a bit like Marvel’s Thanos, or larger scale versions of the pretenders for the Iron Throne of Westeros (a “Game of Thrones” reference there). These were arrogant, morally impaired, entitled beings jockeying for power, who would not even notice a commoner (unless perhaps an unusually attractive maiden might arouse some sexual interest now and then). Such “gods” don’t approach you, rather you approach them, if you dare, and if you are somehow unusually worthy. They would not grieve for the death of a widow’s son.

This care and concern for individuals also differentiates Christianity from eastern religions such as Buddhism and Hinduism, which would suggest that everything we see and experience, including our griefs and sufferings, are merely illusions superimposed on some deeper reality, and that the way forward is to detach from this world. This deeper reality doesn’t notice you, because there isn’t really a “you” to notice.

This touching little story in Luke could be seen a microcosm of the Gospel. God notices you, has compassion upon you in your current state of weakness and pain. God not only notices, but approaches. Further, he reaches out and touches the spiritually lifeless, bringing healing and new life where previously there was none.

10Sep

Hokey Philosophy

“What if the hokey pokey IS what it’s all about?”
—-Jimmy Buffett

26Aug

Monastic Life Appealing to young women

After decades of decline, interest in religion vocations among women is climbing, according to an article by Eve Fairbanks in “Highline”. In addition, those entering orders are younger (age 24, compared with 40 a decade ago):

These young women have one last surprise: They tend to be far more doctrinally conservative than their predecessors. If you go deeper into their social media feeds, past the wacky photos of habited nuns making the hang-loose sign, you’ll find a firm devotion to the most traditional of Catholic beliefs.

Fairbanks, Eve (2019) “Behold, the Millennial Nuns.” Huffington Post’s “Highline” magazine. Online at https://www.huffpost.com/highline/article/millennial-nuns/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app

20Jul

A House Divided: The Evergreen State College Meltdown

Jesus famously said, “A house divided against itself shall not stand”. For those who would seize or destroy an institution, this is not merely descriptive but prescriptive. In recent years the outside world has watched in amazement as a vocal minority of activists has effectively seized control at a liberal institution of higher education. Disturbingly this may be only be the beginning of a new and uglier phase of the culture battle, in which a newer and more virulent strain of leftism finishes off the remnant of conservatives and begins to feed on its own political allies.

At Evergreen State College in Washington, student protests ultimately drove out two well liked liberal professors, who, their heads still reeling, wrote a postmortem on the chaos that descended. After the new president stopped protestors from derailing a convocation, he then reversed course and apologized for doing so, and opened a door to more of the same:

Even so, assume for the moment that Evergreen did have racism running rampant. Even under those conditions, would apologizing to students for asking them to respect the college and its invited speakers be the right move? Of course not.
What happened next was predictable. Protests became more frequent and intrusive. Protesters showed up at the swearing-in ceremony of the new campus police chief, Stacy Brown, and shut it down…Soon thereafter, protesters showed up at another ceremony, the dedication of a campus building to the last president of Evergreen, Les Purce. Purce happens to be black. Protesters grabbed the microphone and read an epithet-rich announcement claiming that the school is “unsafe for marginalized students.”

Much of the blame is placed upon the new president of the college who allied himself with the social justice warriors, encouraging ever more vocal protests, and shaming any who would dare question the new order.

A meeting was held in 2016 to “discuss” a new “Strategic Equity Plan”; no “discussion” was offered other than an invitation for attendees to come up onstage and step into an invisible canoe. Most did, to the sounds of Native American drum rhythms and recordings of surf. Prof Bret Weinstein chose not to go into the invisible canoe, and he circulated an opinion questioning the tactics as being intimidating. In turn, he received hate-laced emails.

The environment on campus deteriorated. Weinstein was denounced as a racist. Later a mob of protesters disrupted his class and held him hostage for a while.

Two of his students, neither of them white, attempted to defend him to the angry crowd. They were shouted down. Not following the faux-equity party line meant that you would be informed that you were wrong, that you were a traitor

The climate on campus deteriorated rapidly. Protestors stormed the last faculty meeting of the year, shutting it down. Then they blockaded the library. Thugs began patrolling the campus looking for Professor Weinstein, who was forced to hold class off campus. The police chief later resigned. Finally Prof Weinstein and his wife were asked by the administration to leave.

The irony is that they were (are) themselves from the political left, and had been protestors in their youth. This was a blow to them, and they wrote:

Why are we being advised by the social justice crowd that we shall not focus on the content of our character, but instead must focus primarily on the color of our skin (and our gender identification, sexual orientation, and various other signifiers of intersectional oppression)? This would be MLK’s nightmare. Why is it being handed a megaphone?

We agree. This portends a possible intellectual dark age coming to academia.

Source:
Heying and Weinstein (2017) “Bonfire of the academies: Two professors on how leftist intolerance is killing higher education.” The Washington Examiner. Online at https://www.washingtonexaminer.com/bonfire-of-the-academies-two-professors-on-how-leftist-intolerance-is-killing-higher-education

01Jul

Saving the Rebel

Quite by chance today I heard an interesting juxtaposition of two beautiful pieces of music. One, the haunting “When David Heard” by Thomas Tompkins, recalls the moment when Israel’s King David learns of the death of his son Absalom, killed as he was leading a rebellion against his own father. David, though spared, nevertheless cries out in agony, “O Absalom, my son! Would God I had died for thee.”

The other piece of music was an organ work by Johann Sebastian Bach, his Passacaglia and Fugue In C minor. The passacaglia was a Spanish dance form elevated to major effect by the Baroque master. This particular piece consists of a theme and 20 variations (or 21 variations comprising 7 sets of three, per French organist Marie-Claire Alain; this is a point of debate). The theme and variations—the Passacaglia— are then followed by a fugue upon the opening theme.

Though wordless, it is thought that Bach was using musical symbolism to express his deep Christian faith. Disagreement exists on how exactly one should interpret the piece, but the cross of Jesus is generally seen in the pattens tumbling forth from the notes. For example, Australian organist David Rumsey noted the following regarding the dramatic “Neapolitan Sixth” that marks a major pause in the middle of the piece:

“By extension we may therefore deduce that the Neapolitan Sixth at the end of section four of the Passacaglia strongly suggests “crucifixion”. Applied specifically to the Passacaglia we see the relationship to the climax of the New Covenant: the sacrifice of the Messiah.” (David Rumsey, 1992. “THE SYMBOLS OF THE BACH PASSACAGLIA”. Accessed online at http://www.davidrumsey.ch/Passacaglia.pdf)

The meaning of the crucifixion for Christians is summarized by St. Paul: “For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life.” (Romans 5:10)

The connection between these two stories that grabbed me was this. In the one instance the rebel died that the king may live. In the second instance, the King died that the rebel may live.

15Jun

D-Day and America at Prayer

Seventy-five years ago, terrified Allied soldiers crawled up the beaches of Normandy against a murderous hail of bullets and bombs. One can get a taste of what this was like from newsreels, photos, and movies like “Saving Private Ryan” or “The Big Red One.” I have spoken with veterans who were there, though few remain alive at this time. Their valor is legendary, and deserving of remembrance.

What may be less well remembered is the spiritual battle, one of prayer, waged on that same day by a large segment of the U.S. population. An essay by Metaxis and Morse recalls the occasion:

as word of the assault trickled out, Americans began to pray. Stores closed, and prayer services were swiftly organized in small towns and big cities.
Photographs taken on June 6 show just how widespread these prayers were. One picture shows a sign in the window of a novelty button shop reading, “Sorry, no covered buttons today. We are praying for the success of the invasion.” A sign in front of a church reads, “Come in and pray for Allied victory: Hourly intercessions on the hour.” Another photo shows Americans in a synagogue, bowing their heads in prayer. At a noon Mass, we see men and women on their knees, fervently praying.
New York City Mayor Fiorello La Guardia took to the airwaves, urging citizens to “send forth [their] prayers to Almighty God . . . to bring total victory . . . in [this] great and valiant struggle . . .”
In Washington, President Roosevelt, who had sons in uniform, urged Americans to join him in prayer for all the nation’s sons: “With Thy blessing,” he prayed, “We shall prevail over the unholy forces of our enemy.”

As we remember the legacy of our heroic grandparents and great-grandparents, whose blood liberated a captive Europe, we might also remember the faith that drove large swaths of our country to its knees before God. Fortunately for humanity, their prayers were answered.

Reference:
Metaxis and Morse (2018) “BreakPoint: The Spiritual Battle on D-Day: ‘This Great and Valiant Struggle’.” Breakpoint. Online at http://www.breakpoint.org/2018/06/breakpoint-the-spiritual-battle-on-d-day/.