Author: BrJames

95 Theses

Out of love for the truth and from desire to elucidate it, the Reverend Father Martin Luther, Master of Arts and Sacred Theology, and ordinary lecturer at Wittenberg, intends to defend the following statements and to dispute on them in that place. Therefore he asks that those who cannot be present and dispute with him orally shall do so in their absence by letter.

When Martin Luther posted his “95 Theses” on the church door at Wittenberg, he may have intended no more than an academic dispute among faculty at the local university. At the time, he was Professor of Moral Theology, and the “Theses” were in Latin, the language of the academy. There is debate about when, or even if, this nailing of the theses occurred.

The drama of Luther walking through Wittenberg with his hammer and his nails is very, very unlikely to have happened,” says Professor Andrew Pettegree, an expert on the Reformation from the University of St. Andrews, Scotland. “The castle church door was the normal noticeboard of the university. This was not an act of defiance on Luther’s part, it was simply what you did to make a formal publication. It would probably have been pasted to the door rather than nailed up.” (Time).

Luther’s bold statements were circulated widely among scholars, and soon “went viral” (The Economist). His work was translated into German, without Luther’s knowledge, and thanks to the printing press, within weeks his ideas had circulated throughout Germany and beyond.

“They are printed and circulated far beyond my expectation,” he wrote in March 1518 to a publisher in Nuremberg who had published a German translation of the theses. But writing in scholarly Latin and then translating it into German was not the best way to address the wider public. Luther wrote that he “should have spoken far differently and more distinctly had I known what was going to happen.”

You are surprised that I did not send them to you. But I did not want to circulate them widely. I only intended to submit them to a few close friends for discussion, and if they disapproved of the Theses, to suppress them. I wanted to publish them, only if they met with approval. But now they are being printed and spread everywhere far beyond my expectation, a result that I regret. It is not that I am against telling the people the truth, in fact that is all that I want, but this is not the proper way to instruct the people. For I have doubts about some of the Theses, and others I would have put much differently and more cogently, and some I would have omitted, had I known what was to come. Still, the spread of my Theses shows what people everywhere really think of Indulgences… (Martin Luther, Letter to Christoph Schuerl, March 5, 1518)

Nonetheless, he persisted in advocating his views, and at first, not much happened. The Bishop of Brandenburg merely passed Luther’s letter and the Theses on up to his superiors in Rome. Pope Leo’s initial reaction was “Brother Martin is a man of fine genius, and this outbreak is a mere squabble of envious monks.” Later he wrote, “It is a drunken German who wrote the Theses; when sober he will change his mind.”

However, as the furor for reform continued to brew, Luther was quickly viewed by the church hierarchy as a threat. He was called to recant his views, refused, and was excommunicated.

Whatever Luther’s original intent, the 95 Theses brought sudden fame to Luther and his ideas, and precipitated a break with Roman Catholicism. Events quickly spun out of the control of either Luther or the Pope. The Indulgence controversy was the soil out of which a political, social, and ecclesiastical revolution grew. A quiet academic dispute went viral. The ideas of Luther challenged the established order and remade Europe.


Addendum:

The traditional date of the start of the Protestant Reformation, October 31, 1517, more properly reflects the day that Luther mailed a letter, along with a copy of the Theses, to Albert, the archbishop of Brandenburg. This letter read, in part:

Under your most distinguished name, papal indulgences are offered over all the land for the construction of St. Peter … I do not so much complain about the quacking of the preachers which I haven’t heard, but I bewail the gross misunderstanding among the people which comes from these preachers … Evidently the poor souls believe that when they have bought indulgence letters they are assured salvation. They are likewise convinced that souls escape purgatory as soon as they have placed a contribution in the chest.

The first and only duty of the bishops is to see that the people learn the gospel and the love of Christ … for on no occasion has Christ ordered that indulgences should be preached … what a horror, what a danger for a bishop to permit the loud noise of indulgences among his people, while the gospel is silenced …

“The hearts of the sons of men are full of evil and insanity is in their hearts throughout their lives” (Ecclesiastes 9:3)

"Death Cure" Poster

Our most recent family movie night at home culminated with a viewing of “The Death Cure”, which is the conclusion of James Dashner’s apocalyptic dystopian vision launched by the “Maze Runner.” One particular feature of the stories sticks out for me as a metaphor of the human condition.

The “flare virus”, and the desperate search for a cure for it, constitutes the dominant backstory upon which all of the action, and all of the emotional moments among the young friends, is plastered. I will limit the remainder of my comments to a further discussion of this issue.

The premise of the “Maze Runner” movies (and the books upon which they were based) is that a terrifying engineered virus has been unleashed upon humanity. It is an aberration of nature, created by a lab in secret, and released with the intent of destroying part of humanity. The Mazerunner wikia describes the effects of the infection:

It is a virus that slowly eats away at the brain, eventually turning its victims into bloodthirsty and irrational humans who consider cannibalism an everyday objective. People who have the Flare are commonly called Cranks.

The “Flare” darkens the minds of those who contract it. They exhibit rage and act irrationally and violently. They experience physical and psychic pain. Eventually they succumb to the effects of their affliction and die.

Most of humanity has become infected by the “Flare”. Even the powerful government agency, WCKD, the elite remnant of humanity living and working in the “Last City” in gleaming high-rises, barricaded behind heavily defended walls, has discovered that their defensive measures are futile. The virus is now airborne and residents of the “Last City” are becoming infected.

Sin is like the “Flare”. We are all affected by it. Sin is an aberration from God’s intended order. Sin robs us of our happiness, our dignity, and our wits. Sin puts us out of our right minds, causing us to commit acts of evil and violence.

St. Paul opened his letter to the Romans with a catalog of the devastating effects of sin. People have suppressed the truth about God, and God in turn has “given people over” to their debased thinking and behaviors:

They were filled with all manner of unrighteousness, evil, covetousness, malice. They are full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, maliciousness. They are gossips, slanderers, haters of God, insolent, haughty, boastful, inventors of evil, disobedient to parents, foolish, faithless, heartless, ruthless. Though they know God’s decree that those who practice such things deserve to die, they not only do them but give approval to those who practice them.

Much has been written about the “noetic effects” of sin–the consequent darkening of the human mind. Echoing Aquinas and Calvin, philosopher Alvin Plantinga states:

we human beings have indeed fallen from a pristine state into sin, a condition that involves both intellect and will. It is an affective malaise, a malfunction or madness of the will. But it is also a cognitive condition

Tim Keller, using the example of King Nebuchadnezzar, speaks of pride–one form of sin. What caught my ear was the following turn of phrase, in describing what pride does to us: “In seeking to become more than human, he became less than human.”

We all find ourselves in a state of having become less than human by the deleterious effect of sin. We are all “Cranks”. And the affliction is universal.

What is the cure for the “Flare”? The movie hints that the blood of the main character, Thomas, possesses something that can reverse the effects of the virus. This has been used successfully on his friend, Brenda. His friend (and traitor) Theresa, takes some blood and pipettes it into a batch of virus, and the virus is killed. The cure is in the blood. At one point, Thomas decides to give himself up self-sacrificially to WCKD, so that they may extract it (painfully and at great cost to himself).

Likewise, our cure is in someone’s blood. In Christian theology, Jesus gave himself up, to his enemies, at great pain and cost to himself, in order to provide a cure for the virus of our sin. His blood is our death cure.

For more information:
“The Noetic Effect of Sin” is an essay by Christian writer/educator Steven Cook, available on his website.

Plantinga, Alvin. Warranted Christian Belief. Oxford University Press, 2000.

Timothy Keller, “Pride: The Case of Nebuchadnezzar”, sermon audio file available for free at Gospelinlife.

image
(Statue of Anselm at Canterbury Cathedral, taken May 2010, by Ealdgyth, obtained from Wikimedia Commons under Creative Commons 3.0 license)

If you have taken a philosophy class somewhere, you probably encountered this great thinker from antiquity, and his famous definition of God as “that than which nothing greater can be conceived”. In his work, proslogion, he endeavored to demonstrate God’s existence in what has since been labelled the “ontological argument”. Basically, If you can conceive of something like God, defined as “that than which nothing greater can be conceived”, but God doesn’t actually exist, then anything that does exist would be greater. Hence God must exist in reality and not just in thought. It’s clever, though it can be (and has been) punctured by others, such as Immanuel Kant. Variants of the argument have been put forward by Descartes, Leibniz, and Goedel. Even today the argument provides grist for reflection. Few would regard it as an absolute proof of God, but perhaps in its best forms it demonstrates that belief in God isn’t unreasonable, as the loudest screamers of the atheist community would insist. 1

Another sign of the importance of St. Anselm is that in the divide between East and West in Christianity, the theological focus in the West since St Anselm has been upon the mystery of the atonement. In his book Cur Deus Homo (“Why God Man?”) Anselm reflects upon the atonement. Jesus is regarded by the church universal as a being with two natures–“fully God and fully Man”. As St Athanasius put it centuries earlier:

…For the right Faith is, that we believe and confess,
that our Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, is God and Man;
God, of the substance of the Father, begotten before the worlds;
and Man of the substance of his Mother, born in the world;
Perfect God and perfect Man,
of a reasonable soul and human flesh subsisting.

(You may read the Athanasian creed in its entirety here).

Anselm started with this accepted christology and asked, “why?” His answer became a powerful reflection upon the nature of the atonement. The thesis is essentially that we humans owe a cosmic debt that we cannot pay. Only God is qualified to pay off that debt, but can’t do so because He doesn’t owe it. With Jesus you have one who both owes the debt and can pay it.

Anselm (1033-1109) joined the Benedictine monastery at Bec in Normandy, in 1060, rising to become Abbot. Not long afterward, England was conquered by Anselm’s king, William the Conqueror. Many of Anselm’s friends went to England, and he made trips to oversee property belonging to Bec. In 1093 Anselm became Archbishop of Canterbury. His years in Canterbury were stormy, as he clashed with the English monarch over what is known to history as the “investiture controversy”, and twice had to go into exile. After his death he was canonized, and is today regarded as the father of scholasticism. He is considered one of the “doctors of the church” (from Latin docere, “to teach”), men regarded as great intellects who profoundly influenced Western Christianity.

In addition to the heady philosophical treatises, we have the following prayer from Saint Anselm:

O Lord my God,
Teach my heart this day where and how to see you,
Where and how to find you.
You have made me and remade me,
And you have bestowed on me
All the good things I possess,
And still I do not know you.
I have not yet done that
For which I was made.
Teach me to seek you,
For I cannot seek you
Unless you teach me,
Or find you
Unless you show yourself to me.
Let me seek you in my desire,
Let me desire you in my seeking.
Let me find you by loving you,
Let me love you when I find you.

(Read more at BeliefNet).

We also have a song of St Anselm,
Jesus, as a mother you gather your people to you:
you are gentle with us as a mother with her children;
Often you weep over our sins and our pride:
tenderly you draw us from hatred and judgement.
You comfort us in sorrow and bind up our wounds:
in sickness you nurse us,
and with pure milk you feed us.
Jesus, by your dying we are born to new life:
by your anguish and labour we come forth in joy.
Despair turns to hope through your sweet goodness:
through your gentleness we find comfort in fear.
Your warmth gives life to the dead:
your touch makes sinners righteous.
Lord Jesus, in your mercy heal us:
in your love and tenderness remake us.
In your compassion bring grace and forgiveness:
for the beauty of heaven may your love prepare us.

(From James Kiefer).

A Prayer for the Feast Day of Saint Anselm

Almighty God, who didst raise up thy servant Anselm to teach the Church of his day to understand its faith in thine eternal Being, perfect justice, and saving mercy: Provide thy Church in every age with devout and learned scholars and teachers, that we may be able to give a reason for the hope that is in us; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.

Further information about Saint Anselm:

For Further Reading
Resources about the Satisfaction Theory of the Atonement:

  • Saint Anselm, Cur Deus Homo. (Full text available online).
  • Theologian and popular teacher RC Sproul has discussed this issue in an essay.

Resources about the “Ontological Argument”, including modern restatements:

  • Saint Anselm, proslogium, available online courtesy of Fordham University.
  • A repository of items at Lastseminary.com.
  • Waterloo Univ statistics professor Christopher Small’s blog and essay. (Discussion of the more recent version of the ontological argument by the mathematician Goedel).
  • Der Spiegel. (A computer program validates Goedel’s argument).

1 One of the funnier misrepresentations of an ontological argument, which I can no longer find, is a statement to the effect of, “I can f**k around with language and therefore God exists, now go to church.”

A joyful Eastertide to you.

Rembrandt van Rijn – Christ and St Mary Magdalen at the Tomb

St. Mark, the gospel writer, noted that when Jesus died:

Jesus cried with a loud voice, and gave up the ghost.
And the veil of the temple was rent in twain from the top to the bottom.

(Mark 15: 37-38)

In three of the four accounts of Jesus’ crucifixion, we have a mention of the curious fact of the rending of the temple veil, or curtain. The curtain in view here is probably the barrier that guarded the entrance to the “holy of Holies”, the most sacred part of the Hebrew Tabernacle (and later, the Temple in Jerusalem). Within this chamber resided the Ark of the Covenant (until it became lost to history). This chamber represented the presence of God. No one was allowed to enter except the High Priest, and even he could only enter once a year on Yom Kippur (the great “Day of Atonement”). The barrier was for the protection of the people, who could not survive a direct encounter with the presence of God.

Ancient Jewish tradition would suggest that this barrier was formidable (though debate about the thickness exists; see a full discussion by Baptist seminarian Charles Bumgardner at his blog). It is unclear whether the veil was a single thick panel, or a single panel hung in such a way as to create a maze. It may even have been two panels. (For a lengthy discussion, see the article “The Veil of the Temple in History and Legend” by Daniel M. Gurtner).

According to a 2014 news report, a group of women in Israel are struggling with the challenge of recreating the Veil: “The women of the veil chamber,” as they call themselves, have founded a little workshop in the biblical Samarian community of Shiloh that is filled with weaving devices and wool. . This curtain is no thin wisp of cloth: The size of the veil itself, a single rag-like object measuring 20 meters high, 10 meters wide and 10 centimeters thick, is a project of immense complexity in and of itself.
(From Israel Today. I have not found any follow up reporting on their progress).

I might pause to note that some debate also exists also as to which curtain was torn. Some early theologians, such as St. Thomas Aquinas, believed that the torn curtain was not the one protecting the Holy of Holies, but a more visible and external curtain, hanging in front of the outer courts. There would have been two curtains in the temple, since the temple followed biblical blueprints initially given for its predecessor, the mobile Tent of Meeting (or Tabernacle): “You shall make a screen for the entrance of the tent, of blue and purple and scarlet yarns and fine twined linen, embroidered with needlework.” (Exodus 26:36, English Standard Version)

In his Commentary on St. Matthew, Aquinas noted that the deepest mysteries still remain hid from us:

And these two veils signify a twofold veiling, because the inside veil signifies the veiling of heavenly mysteries, which will be revealed to us: for then we shall be like to Him, when His glory shall have appeared. The other veil, which was outside, signifies the veiling of mysteries which pertain to the Church. Hence, the outer veil was rent, but the other one was not, to signify that mysteries which pertain to the Church were made known by Christ’s death; but the other veil was not rent, because heavenly secrets still remain veiled. Hence, the Apostle says: “But when Israel shall be converted to the Lord, the veil shall be taken away” (II Cor. 3, 16). Hence, by the Passion, all mysteries, which were written in the Law and the prophets, were opened, as it is stated: “Beginning at Moses and all the prophets, he expounded to them in all the scriptures the things that were concerning him” (Lk. 24, 27).
(St Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on St. Matthew, available online).

The important point for us isn’t the nature or location of the curtain, but rather the deeper meaning and symbolism behind its rupture. Even this may have multiple layers of possibilities. As I was preparing this article, I discovered one blog article that linked the tearing of the veil to the Jewish custom of tearing one’s clothes at a time of great distress, such as grief from the death of a loved one. The idea is that God was tearing His clothes at a moment of deep anguish.

A more common interpretation would be something like this:

The rending of this veil means that access into the presence of God is no longer limited to the high priest; in the era after Christ’s death, all believers may boldly come before the Almighty’s throne. … Clearly, with the death of Jesus a cataclysmic change happened in the way we approach the Father, as well as with God’s relationship to the temple. It was, John Calvin writes, “an opening of heaven, that God may now invite the members of his Son to approach him with familiarity.” (R.C. Sproul, Ligonier Ministries).

Jesus’ death has accomplished something wondrous. God has destroyed the barrier that separates us from His presence.

An article by Glenn Stanton in the Federalist cites new research calling into question the near dogma that Christianity in America is dying amid a relentless tide of secularization–That the gates of science and progressive politics are doing what the gates of Hell could not, namely prevailing against the Church. It turns out that this is only partly right; It is progressive politics from within the churches, not outside it, that has taken down many of the once great Protestant denominations.

Yes, these churches are hemorrhaging members in startling numbers, but many of those folks are not leaving Christianity. They are simply going elsewhere. Because of this shifting, other very different kinds of churches are holding strong in crowds and have been for as long as such data has been collected. In some ways, they are even growing.

The Stanton article points out growth in nondenominational churches that are Evangelical in outlook, and states that these groups gain five new congregants exiled from the liberal churches for every one they lose for any reason. “They also do a better job of retaining believers from childhood to adulthood than do mainline churches.”

Over time, even as the “nones” increase their share of the population, at the expense of weakly affiliated religious people, the “strongly affiliated” have not only held steady but even grown slightly, and currently number about 40% of U.S. adults. One third of American adults pray multiple times a day, and believe that The Bible is God’s actual word. Stanton points out that church attendance today is higher than at the time of the founding of our nation.

The 2017 study in question is “The Persistent and Exceptional Intensity of American Religion: A Response to Recent Research “ by Landon Schnabel of Indiana University, and Sean Bock of Harvard (Sociological Science, 4, 686-700).

Holy Week is upon us, as Christians celebrate Palm Sunday. This day recalls the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem, as adoring crowds waved palm branches and shouted “Hosanna to the son of David!” One of my favorite parts of Palm Sunday is the singing of the hymn, “All Glory, Laud, and Honor”, while (at least in one of my old churches) children march around with palm branches. The hymn is rendered beautifully in the following recording by the Choir of King’s College, Cambridge:

This hymn is based on “Gloria laus, et honor” by St Theodulph of Orleans, a ninth century poet and bishop, who died in 821. It was translated to English by John Mason Neale (1818-1866):

Refrain:
All glory, laud and honour,
To Thee, Redeemer, King,
To Whom the lips of children
Made sweet hosannas ring.

Thou art the King of Israel,
Thou David’s royal Son,
Who in the Lord’s Name comest,
The King and blessed One.

The company of angels
Are praising Thee on High,
And mortal men and all things
Created, make reply.

The people of the Hebrews
With palms before Thee went;
Our prayer and praise and anthems
Before Thee we present.

To Thee, before Thy passion,
They sang their hymns of praise;
To Thee, now high exalted,
Our melody we raise.

Thou didst accept their praises;
Accept the prayers we bring,
Who in all good delightest,
Thou good and gracious King.

The eminent physicist Stephen Hawking has died at age 76, and his death is being mourned throughout the world, even as his contributions to theoretical physics are celebrated. He struggled valiantly against a neurodegenerative disease that robbed him of just about everything but his mind.

He was also one of the more prominent atheists of our time. His bold pronouncements often garnered a lot of attention. He famously dismissed philosophy as out of date with respect to science and therefore having nothing more to add to our understanding of the Universe. He made the criticized statement that universes can spontaneously come onto being: “because there is a law such as gravity, the universe can and will create itself from nothing.”

About death and the afterlife, he stated in 2011:
I have lived with the prospect of an early death for the last 49 years. I’m not afraid of death, but I’m in no hurry to die. I have so much I want to do first. I regard the brain as a computer which will stop working when its components fail. There is no heaven or afterlife for broken down computers; that is a fairy story for people afraid of the dark.”(The Guardian).

He is noted to have challenged contrary beliefs with some grace (Jude Smith in Christian Today). His ex-wife, Dr. Jane Hawking, who was then (and is currently) a practicing Christian, reported on this in a recent interview with Christian Connection. “…at first we lived in harmony each respecting the other’s point of view – and because he had been giving such a damning diagnosis I could well understand why he would not be inclined to believe in a loving God, let alone given how complex his researches into the origins of the universe were. He has to be able to see the proof of everything in mathematical terms.”

She recalls him as having great energy and a sense of humor. In one mirthful exchange, Hawking admitted to his wife that science is often a faith based enterprise.
I remember once asking him how he knew which theory to work on, to which he replied: ‘Well you have to take a leap of faith in choosing the one that you think is going to be most productive.’ I said: ‘Really? I thought faith had no part to play in physics?’ (Jane Hawking, in The Telegraph).

Although this marriage would unravel, they eventually were able to remain on good terms. Jane’s faith gave her great help and comfort, in the midst of his diagnosis and subsequent disability.

“Faith was my rock and a blessing because I believed that there was help and support for me in all the challenges I faced and that things would resolve themselves eventually.”

Her determination early on prevailed and gave him back a will to live at a crucial moment when he had lost it. Though not acknowledged as such, it seems that in the midst of his deepest darkness, he was given a gift of grace from God, that supported him and enabled his later contributions.

On 5 March 1953, the brutal Stalin era of the Soviet Union came to an abrupt end, as the dictator died of a hemorrhagic stroke (the presence of gastrointestinal and cardiac hemorrhage has led to the credible theory that he may have been poisoned with warfarin by his own associates). His daughter, Svetlana, was present, and gave an eyewitness account:

My father died a difficult and terrible death. It was the first and only time I’ve seen someone die. God grants an easy death only to the just.

The hemorrhaging had gradually spread to the rest of his brain. Since his heart was healthy and strong, it affected the breathing centers bit by bit and caused suffocation. His breathing became shorter and shorter. For the last 12 hours the lack of oxygen was acute. His face altered and became dark. His lips turned black and the features grew unrecognisable. The last hours were nothing but a slow strangulation. The death agony was horrible. He literally choked to death as we watched. At what seemed the very last moment, he suddenly opened his eyes and cast a glance over everyone in the room. It was a terrible glance, insane or perhaps angry, and full of the fear of death and the unfamiliar faces of the doctors bent over him. The glances swept over everyone in a second. Then something incomprehensible and awesome happened that to this day I can’t forget and don’t understand. He suddenly lifted his left hand as though he were pointing to something above and bringing down a curse on us all. The gesture was incomprehensible and full of menace, and no one could say to whom or at what it might be directed. The next moment, after a final effort, the spirit wrenched itself free of the flesh.

(Source: Alliluyeva, Svetlana, Twenty Letters to a Friend, 17. New York, Harper, 1967.)

“The Last Jedi” reminds viewers that even a fictional secular religion will likely reflect the spiritual economy of its time. (Chaim Saiman)

Months ago, in anticipation of the release of “The Last Jedi”, I wrote a blog post on the “Star Wars” universe as a significant modern parable that can connect to a number of the themes and ideas of Christianity. The latest movie has been interpreted by many as repudiating some of the tenets of the preceding movies.

Two recent articles reflect further on the religious themes of “Star Wars.” Writing in CNN, Daniel Burke observes,

“Star Wars” is, at heart, a story about the rise and fall of an ancient religion.

That religion was intended to be a space-age version of Zen Buddhism. This reflected the interest in eastern religions becoming popular in the California of the 70’s.

Suffice it to say, “Star Wars” borrows quite a bit from Buddhist symbols, teachings and practices. One writer calls it “Zen with lightsabers.” …
Throughout “Star Wars,” the Jedi talk often about mindfulness and concentration, attachment and interdependence, all key Buddhist ideas. Two — mindfulness and concentration — are steps on the Eightfold Path, the Buddha’s guide to spiritual liberation.

Irv Kershner, director of “The Empire Strikes Back”, once said that the character of Yoda was created to evangelize for Buddhism.

Mushim Patricia Ikeda, a Buddhist teacher and social justice activist, said Yoda reminds her of the monks she studied with in Korea: wise, cryptic and a little impish.

“The Last Jedi”, the most recent movie, on the other hand, seems to have turned against the religion of the Jedi. After trekking to Luke’s remote hideaway, bearing his old light saber as a relic, Rey is a supplicant to the religion that has died down to one. Luke stares blankly for a second, then tosses the thing over his shoulder and walks away. As she pursues him, he rather grumpily tells her that the Jedi order is finished, and he won’t train her. Later he and Yoda’s glowing spirit hold a conversation about the sacred Jedi books that Luke possesses: “Page-turners they were not,” opines Yoda.

Writing in The Atlantic, Chaim Saiman notes that

From A New Hope through The Force Awakens, learning to master the Force required faith, ritual, and ancient wisdom—all of which are hallmarks of institutionalized religion. But in The Last Jedi, a grizzled Luke Skywalker dismisses the Jedi mythos, and presents a more modern take on theology that accords with the “spiritual but not religious” trend that finds younger Americans to be less interested in organized faith but more open to spiritual experiences.

Both articles are quick and entertaining reads.