2,844 words

Christian evangelicals — or fundamentalists, to be a little less precise — are in the unenviable position of catching flak from both the Left and the Right. There are some points which have already been discussed quite a bit already on our side of it. On the bright side, they tend to have their hearts in the right place, along with some healthy values. Overall they’re good people, despite what the Leftists say about them, except for certain bloviating televangelists who really are that bad.

Fundamentalists are on average more resistant to the bad parts of modernity, which they justifiably regard as evil. They have a healthy suspicion of New World Order globaloney, they’re not quite as unaware and compliant as the usual Joe Sixpack, their families are larger than average (pretty close to replacement rates, if memory serves), they pay attention to trends in education — and the list goes on. Aside from all that, there are quite a few of them, at least in the United States. In other words, it would be a mistake to write them off over latent scriptural universalism (most don’t fall for it, anyway), naïveté concerning Middle Eastern geopolitics, and so forth. All told, although they leave something to be desired ideologically, they’re certainly more educable than liberal Pod People.

My own thoughts about theology are too scattered to dive right into anything, or even to endorse any particular sect or religion wholeheartedly. Besides that, I’m too irreverent to take things very seriously. It’s certainly an interesting subject, but I don’t have all the answers. If Zeus and Athena want to drop by for a chat about all that, though, I’m all ears. Moreover, I find it rather hard to come to firm conclusions about otherworldly topics that I can’t directly observe. Perhaps that much comes from my years as a teenage atheist.

Simply put, we have to meet fundamentalists where they’re at, even when our own personal beliefs differ. We need to respect their religious views if we’re going to get anywhere with them. My purpose here is neither to promote nor to discourage fundamentalism. Rather, it’s to address certain sticking points I’ve encountered that can sometimes lead to inaction by those who otherwise are good people and might even know the score. A major reason why things are the way they are now is because there hasn’t been any effective pushback since about the mid-1960sWe now need all hands on deck to fix our society. Although that which is described in what follows are erroneous emanations of certain tendencies, they’re fortunately not ubiquitous, and they’re not inevitable consequences of key doctrines. Sooner or later you’ll meet a fundamentalist who simply needs some encouragement, and therefore what I have to say may be useful.

Sola scriptura in excelcis

One of these difficulties that crop up from time to time is an overextension of a Protestant concept which disregards the significance of canon law and other traditions outside of Scripture. The idea is simple, and consists of two parts:

• something can’t be wrong or bad unless the Bible explicitly says it’s sinful or otherwise denounces it; and


• something isn’t important or necessary unless the Bible says so.

Of course, sola scriptura in excelcis is a bit silly. (Does one need a commandment to tie one’s shoelaces?) Still, it occurs sometimes. It obviously makes it tremendously difficult to discuss anything without whipping out a handy Scriptural reference.

In a way, those afflicted with this condition are somewhat like a certain subset of hatchlings. Namely, sourcefags are smug master debaters who bog down discussions by endlessly demanding peer-reviewed academic citations on the fly for things that should be obvious. They’ll find a way to brush off any evidence you can come up with, or pop off with other disingenuous objections to common knowledge, even though they know very well you have a good point. The difference is that sola scriptura in excelcis represents a genuine lack of understanding of why anyone might need any guidance other than the Bible. On the bright side, if you can discuss something with such people on their terms, they’ll listen and might even get the point.

In practice, you might get something such as, “Where does it say in the Bible that I should care about the fate of my people and my civilization?” The unspoken premise here is that you’re supposed to answer on the fly using an argument limited to theology and backed by Scriptural citations. It’s possible to find the answers, but reciting all that from memory is a tall order for anyone who isn’t a based theologian. Such cumbersome restrictions on discourse is rather like being asked to prove that water is wet while using only a weathervane, an astrolabe, and a study in the Journal of the American Medical Association about the inherent wetness of water.

More seriously, the following might get some clarity. There are multitudes of remarkably bad things that the Bible doesn’t warn about, such as getting hooked on crack. (If that’s not self-evidently bad enough, drug abuse is an instance of gluttony. Although the Seven Deadly Sins came from Catholic doctrine, not the Bible; therefore, sola scriptura standards don’t explicitly prohibit smoking Satan’s boogers.) Likewise, Scripture has nothing to say about negative behaviors such as drunk driving, securities fraud, or the cardinal sin of farting in an elevator.

Neither does it discuss important positive behaviors such as brushing your teeth, balancing asset allocations in your investment portfolio, or routine automotive maintenance. Although the Bible has lots of answers to life’s big questions, it doesn’t say everything one might need to know. There are many modern conditions that don’t have a precedent in this ancient document, in which case it’s necessary to refer to other traditions and the sort of lessons learned which — as Mussolini put it — are the acquired facts of history.

As a side note, there was a time I offered someone a free copy of one of my books. His reply was, “Is it about God?” (The unspoken corollary was that if it was not, then it wasn’t worth reading.) Oh dear, now that was a bit awkward . . . Perhaps I should’ve given him a copy of The Final Falafel; that has plenty to say about religion, and surely it would’ve been a hit!

Caput inter nublia condit

Certain religious and philosophical schools of thought make a dualistic distinction between the worldly and the heavenly. This distinction regards the spiritual realm as superior to the mundane realm (or mundus in the original Latin). In some cases, the material world is regarded as merely a pit of sorrow; something rather unimportant, flawed, evil, or even fairly illusionary. The concept also feeds into the mind-body dichotomy.

This asceticism isn’t limited to somber medieval monks, either. Rather, it features across a broad geographical scope, from the Cathars of southern France to the Buddhists of the Orient, and temporally from the Zoroastrians of Persia to certain New Agers of today. That’s the Cliffs Notes version of the “sacred versus secular” discussion. In the case of fundamentalists, prioritizing spirituality over materialism sometimes puts their heads in the clouds in certain ways.

Given all the aggrieved muttering from Leftists about “the Religious Right,” what follows might come as a bit of a surprise. Some hardcore fundamentalists will regard politics as something messy, beneath them, and rather disturbing. To them, its inextricably worldly nature makes it a distraction from the spiritual realm. Politics should therefore be avoided as something impure, and even sort of dirty. (In all these ways, of course, it’s quite similar to how a prude might regard sex, which of course is a hang-up related to the mind-body dichotomy.) Considering themselves to be “above it all” will discourage them from confronting the problems of the world. Most fundamentalists don’t feel this way, of course, but it does come up sometimes.

Now, this is the takeaway. Some might piously consider themselves “not of this world.” That’s all well and good, but the fact is that we’re all part of this world, whether we like it or not. Most obviously, Earth is our home as long as we’re alive. The same goes for our family, as well as our future children and grandchildren, their descendants, and the great extended family which is our race. What happens here on Earth matters; very much so. Passively allowing things to slide into ruin is dreadfully neglectful. I’m not the first person to say this around here, but there’s something important to keep in mind: It’s all well and good to look to Heaven, but the battleground is right down here.

On a side note, I’ have to hand it to our Jewish buddies. They’re too practical for such hair-shirted aloofness. Imagine an ultra-Orthodox Talmud scholar — let’s say a lifelong New Yorker who looks like he’s fresh off the boat from seventeenth-century Bukovina — who is fully fluent in Yiddish and Hebrew (both ancient and modern) but speaks less English than a typical call center agent in Bangalore, and could benefit from occasionally stepping outside of his yeshiva to catch some daylight and smell the roses. Despite self-segregating from general society and being preoccupied with theological minutiae, even this Haredi-to-the-max guy more likely than not certainly does care about what goes on outside of his ethnoreligious enclave.

Deus Ex Machina

One sticking point arises from interpretations of the Book of Revelations. This is the belief that God will intervene to save us personally at the last minute from Doomsday. In some cases, this includes the Rapture doctrine, in which the elect will suddenly be bodily transported to Heaven while the rest of the world experiences the dreadful End Times tribulations.

There’s much to be said for the portentous nightmare fuel at the end of the Bible. For one thing, due to of a dire warning in Revelations, the idea of microchipping the population — which has been floated -in certain globalist circles — would meet with devastating opposition, should any tyrant be so foolish as to try to impose it. Surely a massive power grab such as that, which would enable citizens to be tracked more easily than ever before and would pave the way for a Chinese-style social credit system, would make the wannabe Bond villains at the W6rld Ec6nomic F6rum snicker like Beavis and Butthead. Granted, lots of sheeple would be totally cool with getting microchipped like cattle. On the other hand, enough fundamentalists would prefer to die — or maybe even fight back — that the idea is a complete non-starter even for the Gnomes of Davos. I’m not really sure what to make of Revelations, myself; heck if I know! Assuming it’s indeed prophetic, it’s certainly not easily interpreted.

Still, there’s an unfortunate corollary to the idea that Clown World will have a deus ex machina ending. If Doomsday really is fated to arrive soon, then trying to improve conditions is basically as futile as trimming the shrubs in downtown Hiroshima the day before President Truman’s gift arrived. (If you’re positively convinced that the Apocalypse will happen the Thursday after next, you might be tempted to play hooky from work and flake off your bills. Then again, what happens if you’re mistaken?) Unfortunately, the “we’re doomed” perspective can lead to defeatism. Although the motives for it differ, the effect is no better than inaction by the usual sort of do-nothings caused by apathy, cowardice, or sheer laziness while the country goes down the toilet.

Earlier times of great uncertainty, such as revolutionary France, sometimes inspired people to live life to the fullest given that today might be their last. Besides the joie de vivre in defiance of adversity, surely that inspired much bravery. On the other hand, fundamentalists confident that the End Times are at hand will more likely assume a grim bunker mentality. This unfortunately discourages them from going out and doing anything about the evil conditions that are pushing things closer to the brink.

There’s a major problem with counting on the Rapture doctrine, heavenly protection during the End Times, or some other form of divine intervention. Namely, no one can certain when Doomsday will occur, even assuming it does. For all I know — which I don’t — maybe we’re only experiencing a rough patch in history and the End Times are scheduled for the distant future, if it’s going to happen at all. Alternatively, according to one plausible interpretation Revelations might’ve predicted events during the Roman Empire — even though Nero’s term obviously fell short of being the end of the world, since we’re still here. Or is Earth now the luxury penthouse of Hell, full of dreadfulness such as pollution, poverty, and war, but with good cuisine to be found and some amazing scenery as well?

Many previous generations assumed that theirs would be the last. Can we be so sure that Doomsday is near now? Quite a few predictions of the end of the world turned out to be embarrassingly premature. In any event, since it’s uncertain when, how, and even if divine intervention might save us, putting all our eggs into this one basket is certainly not prudent.

If you meet someone waiting on a deus ex machina grand finale, you can ask when this is going to take place. Soon? Well, how soon? As in this month? Sometime this year? Only God really knows, and claiming insider information would be rather presumptuous, right? So maybe this really might happen a while from now — perhaps a decade or two, or even more, for all we know. Until then, why endure years of degradation and decline without lifting a finger to do anything about it? Apart from that, does faith alone qualify someone to stand among the elect who are eligible for the Rapture, or is it possible that express tickets are reserved for the valiant?

I know someone who is very concerned that terrible events are in the works for this year, sensing that predictive programming in the mainstream media is priming the public for something big. When the shit hits the fan, he plans to hide out in his place until the Rapture carries him off to safety. (If 2024 will feature interesting times, though, then “The Event” — as some of the online buzz calls it — might well be something short of Doomsday.) My thoughts are: Should some cataclysm occur, he doesn’t have to be a passive spectator while all hell breaks loose. If, for example, the Little Green Men from Mars land nearby and start burning down his city, he can join the local resistance, help send the extraterrestrial hordes back to their planet, and have a shot at glory.

Is the future really set in stone? This would mean that free will is ineffective. (I’ll skip the huge theological debate about predestination, which is similarly applicable to ancient prophesies.) Instead, through the right actions, could a predicted disaster be delayed, lessened in severity, or perhaps avoided entirely? Speaking of apocalyptic stuff, the film Terminator 2 had a good point: “There’s no fate but what we make for ourselves.”

Speaking of movie quotes, say what one will about the recent Dune remake, Afro-Chani does have a good point. In one of the departures from the book, the scrappy feminist is a bit of a cynic and doesn’t go in for the Mahdi / Lisan al-Gaib stuff like the fundamentalist Fremen from the deep south of Arrakis who talk like rednecks:

You want to control people? Tell them a Messiah will come. Then they’ll wait — for centuries.

I should add that there are some on our side who fall into this same trap, expecting a great leader to emerge and put everything right. (If this does come to pass, I’d imagine that quite a few of them will be in the cheering section, but render no further assistance during the Kampfzeit — and afterward congratulate themselves for being on the right side from the beginning.) Once more, we need all hands on deck making whatever positive and constructive efforts they can. There’s no time for people to sit on their duffs until somebody else gets the ball rolling.

Moreover, there’s a fairly spot-on Leftist critique of Buddhism to the effect that it encourages passivity and discourages the masses from improving their lot and resisting repression. Likewise, waiting for our favorite deity to do the heavy lifting for us will deprive us of the motivation to get out there and do something. Perhaps God leaves us to manage our own affairs and wants us to fix things ourselves. If She wants to miracle us out of our woes, what’s taking Her so long? Wasn’t the emergence of disco “music” enough of an affront to everything good and holy that it would unleash divine wrath, if that were in the cards in the near term? More seriously, although we can’t count on divine intervention occurring exactly when we want it and exactly the way we want it, we can count on ourselves.