Category Archives: Issue 3

Reflections on “Ode to the West Wind”

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Sydney Harris

This ode, written by Percy Shelley, is one that tells a story of wishful thinking. The speaker uses the many functions of the wind to convey the power it has. He speaks to the fact wind drives away the autumn leaves, places seeds in the earth, brings thunderstorms and the cyclical “death” of the natural world, and stirs up the seas and oceans. He explains these functions in a way trying to connect with the wind. He pleas to the wind for it to act in the way it does, but on him. He wishes, with the help of the powerful force of nature, to have his ideas and works spread out and dispersed throughout the world. He wants the wind to be as harsh and real in his life as it is in the winter months. He knows the West Wind of autumn is wild and rough but is always followed by spring, a time of beauty and growth. He wants the wind to blow away all of the negative things in his life and create a new spirit in him, like it does for the leaves of the winter or the waves of the ocean. He wishes to be moved into a new version of himself, to fulfill his full potential.

In the beginning of the first canto he addresses the wind, describing it like a breath of Autumn. He talks about it as a magician banishing evil, the way it blows away dead leaves. He then says it carries seeds to their places around the earth and leaves them they’re until Spring comes for them. The wind burying seeds in the ground is like a charioteer taking corpses to their grave. He thinks of the spring wind as blue and as the cause of all revival of nature. He says it blows like a clarion and all the seeds bloom, filling every “plain and hill” with “living hues and odours.” The last few lines depict the speaker describing it as a “Wild Spirit” that’s omnipresent. It’s the “Destroyer and Preserver,” as winter brings death but gives way to revival of spring. He ends saying “hear, oh, hear!”, wanting the wind to hear his unknown request.

The second canto is a continuation of his description of the West Wind. The clouds, in his words, are scattered through the sky like dead leaves in a stream.  The leaves fall from the trees like the clouds fall from the sky, all working together to balance our weather. This is all to indicate a storm that is coming. He uses the simile of clouds being like angels of rain and lightning. He then goes into a detailed description of what the West Wind is like during a storm. The thunderclouds, “locks of the approaching storm,” disperse through the West Wind or the “blue surface.” He says the thunderclouds to the West Wind are like the Mænad’s locks of hair are to the air. A Mænad was one of the fierce women who spent time with the Greek god Dionysus. Their hair was wild and crazy and that’s the point he used to connect the two. He then uses a melancholy metaphor to describe the power the West Wind has. He says it’s like a funereal song played as the past year comes to an end. As the storm comes, the thunder, lightning and rain will be like the tomb being rolled over the grave. He ends, again, asking the wind to hear him but we don’t exactly know what for.

In the third canto, he details the weird and strange things the West Wind does. The Mediterranean is awoken, making the wind and storm begin to come. This happens because the sea had been calm and still during the summer, while on vacation like the Romans. During the summer, the Mediterranean dreams and sees the “old palaces and towers” along Baiæ’s bay, overgrown and unkempt. The Atlantic then breaks itself into “chasms” for the West Wind. He uses all these words to say the wind disrupts the water, creating waves but is at the service and will of the West Wind and all its power. The speaker talks about how all the see plants hear the West Wind and become disheveled and go all over the place in fear and hurt themselves. The canto ends the same way the others have, with the speaker asking for the wind to hear him.

The fourth canto begins to reveal the request the speaker has for the West Wind, beginning with him wishing he was a “dead leaf” or a “swift cloud” the West Wind could carry or he wishes he was a wave that could be rocked by the West Wind’s “power” and “strength.” He has hopes of becoming free and as “uncontrollable” as the West Wind. The speaker will even settle with just having the same type of relationship he had with the wind when he was younger, when they were “comrades.” He reflects on when he was younger and was faster and stronger than the West Wind. He clarifies wanting to feel the same way he did in the past, youthful and strong, is the only reason for coming to the West Wind. He wants to be given the same treatment as the waves, leaves and clouds, saying “I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed!” Time has made life dull and hard for him along with his spirit, which is no longer “tameless, and swift, and proud” like the West Wind.

The last canto depicts the speaker asking to become an instrument. He wants the West Wind to turn him into a lyre. During his time, the æolian harp, a type of wind chime, was a popular instrument during the Romantic era. The harp is played by simply setting it in the wind, which is what the speaker longs for. The speaker says he wants to be used by the wind in whatever way the West Wind wants to use him. He wishes to be blown by the Wind like the branches are, leaves attached or not. His pride has been stripped of him like the leaves on the trees, and both are dying.

He then goes as far as to ask the “fierce” spirit of the West Wind to take over his soul and live in him. His thoughts are like the dead leaves and if the West Wind could control them, maybe instead of dead leaves, they can be something that dies but can grow again in the springtime. The speaker suggests the words of his poems are being blown around into the world as “sparks” and “ashes.” The speaker describes himself as the “unextinguished hearth” the sparks come from, a fire that is slowly dying but still there.

He ends, returning to his wish of being played like an instrument, referring to himself as a trumpet the wind should blow its prophecy through. His last line is “If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?” This simple question holds more weight than meets the eye. He needs the answer to be “yes” because he knows he can’t take much more of the torturous winter that is his life at that moment. 

This is composed in a set of separate sonnets brought together. It is formed so that one must continue reading to find out how the story ends. It leaves the reader on edge, going through everything in real time with the author. This has Romanticism seen all throughout it. Romanticism stressed strong emotion, imagination, freedom from classical art forms, and rebellion against social conventions. He provides the reader with the chance to envision what the wind is really like with all his analogies. He had been overtaken, he felt, by society and all that had happened to him and wanted the wind to free and renew him. It provides a sense of hope for things to come and is very optimistic.

From a Christian perspective, this is resonating with me due to personal struggles. In life, there are many ups and downs and as a Christian, it’s hard to believe God hears all my prayers. But, like the speaker had a hope, the faith like a mustard seed, and constant belief that better must come stays alive. God tells us, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths” (Prov. 3:5, 6). In this verse we can be reassured God will never forsake us and if we continue to praise him in the bad times He will always see us through. This year has been a series of highs and lows for me, and in the bad times I often want to give up and question why God is testing me in the way He is. But, when I get to my lowest point, I step back and think, who am I to be feeling the way I do, and what kind of faith do I have to believe God can’t get me out of my little situation. Trust in God is imperative, especially in the bad times. Even if you don’t believe in God, simply keeping a positive mindset will get you so much farther in life.

In the Bible, the greatest example of faith and hope I know is Job. He had everything he could possibly want and more: family, money, and notoriety. He served God but he had everything; it was easy to. God let Satan attack Job to just show him how strong his servant was. He had literally everything stripped from him even to the point where Satan took away his health and Job was dying. He was in the hardest time in his life, the worst season or the harshest winter. He still believed in God’s plan and the hope that tomorrow will be better than the day before. In God’s timing, he renewed Job’s health and gave him what he had and so much more for his faith.

The speaker in the ode may not have gone through what Job did but he still showed faith and hope and that is recognized. I appreciate this poem and the reminder it gave me personally to do as God says in John 16:33, “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world, you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

Letters to the Editor

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David Lane and Christopher Rush

We at the Scholarly Journal have enjoyed all the warm responses we have received from our first issues this year.  Your comments and interactions have been encouraging in a variety of ways, as we continue to make Redeeming Pandora part of the cutting edge in scholasticism.  One particular question (well, two, really) is worth addressing here, in the journal itself.  David Lane asks,

“In the future, what works of literature and/or films (if their [sic] are any) of our generation and time period will be remembered as significant?  And what historical events or movements influenced these works?”

That’s a good pair of questions, David Lane.  Let me try to answer those questions with some answers.

The Nature of the Issue

The real difficulty with questions about the contemporary age is that no one, frankly, has any perspective to make any meaningful assessments.  Most of the time period labels we use nonchalantly as if they have always been (“Baroque,” “Modernism,” “Enlightenment,” “Cubism,” as examples) are the product of later history, from the perspective of rhetorical and historical distance.  Some movements, especially in the graphic arts world, are intentional and for them contemporary labels, such as “Fauvism,” but those are rare exceptions.  It’s not as if Charlemagne woke up one morning and thought, “Hmm, we seem to be in the middle of two major periods of time, Classical Antiquity and the forthcoming Renaissance.  We better start calling ourselves ‘The Middle Ages.’”  As we discuss at times in class, genius is rarely recognized in its own lifetime.  Yes, too, there are exceptions (Michelangelo, Tennyson, John Williams), but again, we should be chary of letting the proportionately small exceptions bemuse our understanding of their rarity.  Adding to the confusion and challenge of the task is that current popularity does not always translate into posterity popularity.  In America, the Fireside Poets (Whittier, Holmes, Longfellow, Bryant, Lowell) were the “pop culture” of the early nineteenth century.  Walt Whitman was mostly excoriated, and Emily Dickinson was virtually unknown in her own lifetime.  Now, though, the Fireside Poets are a brief anecdote in surveys of American Literature, if even mentioned at all, and Whitman and Dickinson are heralded as two of the greatest poets of all time.  Similarly in England, Gerard Manley was unknown in his own day but is now considered one of the better, more creative lyrical poets, and not just of his Victorian day.

Sometimes simply the passage of time plays a factor in what is later important and significant.  The Bible itself mentions works that were at least known (if not read) by the Israelites that are no longer extant.  We do not know what happened to them.  Sophocles is reputed to have written over 120 plays, but only seven of them have survived to this day.  For all we know these could have been his seven worst plays.  The digital age threatens to preserve (ironically by eliminating reproduction) the works of antiquity and the present age, but if the dvd manufacturing industry is any indication (just like the digital e-book reader industry), the infatuation with the present will soon eradicate the pretensions of preserving the past in favor of replicating the currently popular.  Admittedly, copyright issues are a factor, but if these “preservers” of the past truly wanted to release what was made in the past instead of what is being currently made, they could.  There truly is no good reason why the complete works of John Ruskin or the entire run of Your Show of Shows is not available, either digitally or not — the concerns of the moneymakers have overridden matters of quality and importance.

Thus we see personal and professional preference becomes a factor in considering what is “significant.”  As is often noted, many times professors will write simply to use their own works as classroom materials and thus increase their own sales.  The importunate atmosphere of collegiate administrators forced to employ published (and continually published) professors is another symptom of the decline of the age as well that must be addressed further, at another time.

Akin to what was mentioned above with the Fireside Poets, cultural movements often affect perceptions of “what is significant” and remembered.  The ancient poets were forgotten (or subsumed under medieval monastic conservationism, at least) for hundreds of years.  The Fireside Poets were the mainstays of home life and textbooks for generations.  This is where your second question concerning the cultural factors comes in.  Modernism intentionally broke from what was done before and considered “art.”  The brief return to traditionalism following World War Two was disrupted by the intelligent (and academic) world giving in to the youthful belligerence of college protesters, especially in the landmark (in a bad way) year 1969, the year that changed pretty much everything (see Slouching Towards Gomorrah by Robert Bork or The Closing of the American Mind by Allan Bloom).  In our own age of multiculturalism, pluralism, and tolerance (outside of classical, Christian enclaves such as Summit, of course), the political pressures of the day require the old canon of Western Civilization be replaced by diversity simply for diversity’s sake, abjuring any objective standards of quality (see Roger Kimball’s insightful Experiments Against Reality: The Fate of Culture in the Postmodern Age).

Part of the issue, too, is the age-old controversy of “popularity versus quality.”  Alexandre Dumas was prolific and popular (thanks, in part, to having a team of people writing for him using his name).  The Three Musketeers is an enjoyable book to read, especially in its unabridged form.  But is it significant?  Is it “literature”?  Leaving aside the question “what is literature?” for now, the issue of popularity as a factor in significance is important.  Not too long ago, America used to read James Michener, James Clavell, Leon Uris, Saul Bellow, Robert Ludlum, and others of that post-WW2/pre-Operation: Desert Shield era.  They were significant for a time, but they seem to have been forgotten rather easily.

One last factor is the growing need in our culture to declare things good or bad, or least celebrate the “now.”  Even people interviewed for  VH1’s I Love the 90s admitted that discussing in 2004 what was important in 1999 did not allow enough time to contextualize what had just happened.  This was made even more absurd by VH1’s need (based solely on the popularity of the other series) to create an I Love the New Millennium, discussing the 2000s before the 2000s were even over!  Even once prestigious celebrations of music and cinema, the Grammy and Oscar awards, have fallen prey to this.  The need to declare what is current as “good” or even “great” is always risky, especially since it seems most people generally agree that the overall quality of movies and television shows today is nowhere near as good as it was decades before (again, exceptions always occur every once in a great while), and this has also been made more absurd by the recent change in nominating ten movies for Best Picture, despite the dearth of actually good movies being made.  Looking back, if we were to place some movies that did not win the Best Picture award against some movies that have won it, most of us would be, hopefully, rather embarrassed.  The Wizard of Oz, The Philadelphia Story, The Maltese Falcon, It’s a Wonderful Life, The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, High Noon, The King and I, The Ten Commandments, To Kill a Mockingbird, Cleopatra, Becket, Dr. Strangelove, Mary Poppins, The Lion in Winter, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, Hello, Dolly! — that is an A-list of movies if ever there was one, but none of them won the Best Picture Oscar.  Can you tell me that The Hurt Locker, Crash, The Departed, Chicago, Rain Man, or even Driving Miss Daisy, Forrest Gump, and Titanic are truly better movies than those?  Of course not — but the need in our culture to celebrate what is current is definitely a detriment to the issue of understanding what is truly significant.

I admit this has all been anecdotal context and not really an answer, yet.  Nor do I want to sound like nothing good is coming out at all in film, music, or literature.  I have simply tried to clarify the nature of the issue at hand disguising a lengthy caveat that it is not possible to answer this question definitively, since I do not know what future generations of media consumers will regard as meaningful contributions to the “Great Conversation” as we call it.  As another caveat, I must admit that since I am not really a part of “your generation,” and since I have no idea what the kids are listening to these days, I may miss the mark a bit as I try now to more directly answer the topic at hand.  Since this is entirely speculative anyway, I shall offer two potential categories of works that the future may consider significant: 1) works I think will be remembered and 2) works I hope will be remembered.

Works I Think Will be Remembered

As we have already acknowledged, we are living in a very unsatisfied age, one that insists on “new” and “fast” at an unthinkable pace.  Popular music in the twentieth century can be divided by the decade (and even into smaller increments): jazz, swing, big band, rock ‘n’ roll, folk, disco, punk, hair bands, grunge, boy bands, techno, and dance.  Contrast that with the sixteenth century: what substantial differences in music occurred from 1530 to 1590?  Alice posited earlier in this issue that dubstep is the next coming thing, and it may very well be.  Your question, though, is how long will it last?  Based on the track record of the recent past, not long at all.  Our culture does not seem interested in what is good, just what is new, though as Alice explained, dubstep is about intentionally remixing what has already been popular, not even trying to be a completely distinct form.  Thus it is hard to say what will be remembered.  (Even Christian music is guilty of this, as so many “artists” today just tack on inane new choruses to great classic hymns to make money.)  The digital revolution has caused great shake-ups in the music industry, and copyright laws and distribution systems are undergoing substantial changes because of new media venues.  Audio cassettes and compact discs may soon go the way of the reel-to-reel, eight track, and laserdisc formats.  The recent return of vinyl albums is most likely one aspect of the “reboot” fad that may soon burn itself out.  Some bands have had impressive staying power: The Rolling Stones, Aerosmith, and U2 are among those that have lasted for decades, despite the changes in their business — but soon, they too will become too old to rock ‘n’ roll, even if they are too young to die.  It is difficult to see any of the current musicians (sometimes a generous appellation) being recognized by posterity as great contributors to music history: The Beastie Boys, Green Day, Run DMC, Soundgarden, Alanis Morissette, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Smashing Pumpkins, and Coldplay all have a chance.  Nirvana probably will, thanks to Kurt Cobain’s self-slaughter.  Again, though, since I don’t listen to what you kids are listening to, I’m no expert on post-’90s music.

Robert De Niro, Al Pacino, and Jack Nicholson will probably be considered great actors of the day, though none of them can touch Cary Grant, Clark Gable, Laurence Olivier, Richard Burton, Peter O’Toole, and Humphrey Bogart.  As far as film and television shows, as mentioned moments ago, what we may best be known for down the road is our pseudo-nostalgic infatuation with reboots and remixes.  I say “pseudo-nostalgic” because clearly the vast majority of the remakes are not made with much respect or deference to what has come before.  Most remakes are barely recognizable and sometimes offensive, such as Tom Cruise’s treatment of Jim Phelps in the first Mission: Impossible movie.  We have seen Flintstones movies, Brady Bunch movies, a G.I. Joe movie, a forthcoming Smurfs movie, some Transformers movies, Sherlock Holmes, Starsky and Hutch, Miami Vice, Eddie Murphy’s personal phase of remaking everything from I Spy to Dr. Doolittle, a Star Trek reboot, not to mention dozens of comic book hero movies: Spiderman, X-Men, Iron Man, Fantastic Four, Avengers, Captain America, Thor, a few Hulks, and more are undoubtedly on their way.  Yes, there were Batman and Superman movies in the ’70s and ’80s (and always television shows to go with them), and even some of the “classics” are remakes of earlier versions of the same story, but the rapidity of studios “cashing in” on the fad is mindboggling.  This kind of significance is not as beneficial as you may be hoping for, but it has gone on long enough to be remembered as a movement (not necessarily a progression, since it is looking backwards).

Most of the television reboots faded quickly (Dragnet, Knight Rider), but some are more successful: Hawaii 5-0 is still going on, though it’s doubtful it will last as long as the original.  There are others.  Certainly the best reboot lately has been Battlestar Galactica.  Considering the considerable acclaim it received in its four-year run (including a Peabody Award), I think it will be remembered as an impressive show during a time when much of the Western world was asking similar questions.  Those that scoff (guttersnipes with opaque souls, mostly) are people who “don’t get it” because they never tried it due to juvenile and petulantly darn-fool prejudices about “science fiction.”  Sad, really.

Clearly, though, the main contribution (using it generously) by which this generation will be remembered is “reality television.”  We all know by now that it’s not any more “real” than any other programming.  No one doesn’t survive Survivor. No one can get too lost on Amazing Race.  Combining American Gladiators with Circus of the Stars and calling it “reality” is not a major change, but it is new enough to motivate the Emmy to create new categories.  Television has become incredibly self-aware, too, with all the specialty channels’ contest shows about becoming the next big whatever: the next model, the next chef, the next design star, the next idol of pre-pubescent music sharers (read: “copyright-infringing bootleggers and thieves”) all over the country.  You know it has gotten out of control when the so-called reality programs start having “all-star” seasons of fan favorites doing the same thing over again, as if Champions Week on Jeopardy! is not enough.

Turning now to literature, or books at least, the most obvious answer of what is going to be memorable from this era is the Harry Potter series.  Since they couldn’t wait very long to make movies based on them, it will be mildly interesting to see whether the books and movies have the staying power to reach a new generation.  For a time, that children were reading these books was enough comfort for parents as if they had fully completed their roles as parents.  “At least they’re reading,” I heard several times in the early 2000s.  Actually, no.  Just because they were reading does not make it okay.  I suspect if you fed these same children nothing but cotton candy these same parents would not say, “At least they’re eating.”  Reading nothing but Harry Potter books is not a healthy intellectual diet.  I’m not saying they should never be read, nor am I saying you should not read them more than once, nor am I saying that they are Beelzebub’s discharges.  I’m saying that unless kids move from these to other, better books, their parents have not done their job.

At the time of this printing, the Twilight series is making a splash as well.  I do not think, though, that this series will remain as popular as the Harry Potter series; not just because it is shorter, but for reasons similar to those Emily Grant has expressed in a previous issue.  I have not read them nor do I plan on doing so.  Similarly, I have on reliable authority the Eragon series is more hype than substance.  Other recent fads, like the Series of Unfortunate Events franchise achieved some initial acclaim, but it has faded out of mainstream consciousness, it appears.  It may be indicative of the sorrowful nature of our literary culture that movie versions are the key to staying power.  The fate of Phillip Pullman’s trilogy may suffer thanks to the poor reception of the Golden Compass movie.  It wouldn’t be such a bad thing if his trilogy (and everything else he’s written) faded into oblivion, though.

Those are all children’s books (sort of).  Have we any grown-up people fiction or nonfiction that might be deemed significant in the future?  Possibly.  Maya Angelou, Toni Morrison, and Amy Tan will probably maintain their statuses (though they are a bit before this generation) as key contributors to African– and Chinese-American fiction.  Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. and Thomas Pynchon may survive the digital age, thanks to the increasing popularity of things absurd, but again, they are a bit before your time.  Cormac McCarthy has made a significant contribution with his work, and again, having award-winning movies based on his works have helped get people back to his work.  Dan Brown is probably running out of gas, but his Da Vinci Code was certainly significant for at least a brief time, which may be enough to make him noteworthy in the future.  Michael Crichton will probably maintain some cultic significance at the least, also thanks to the movies based on his works.  Neil Gaiman and Orson Scott Card will most likely maintain their statuses as significant contributors to fiction, if not just speculative fiction.  It is too soon to know whether Jonathan Franzen and Steig Larsson will maintain their momentum.  Meta-fiction and multi-media incorporated fiction (beyond the digital reader) will only increase in popularity and social significance in the years ahead.

Chinua Achebe and Salman Rushdie will probably maintain their international staying power for awhile.  John le Carré will most likely be considered significant, even if his popularity goes the way of Robert Ludlum.  Philip Roth, Joyce Carol Oates, Tom Wolfe, and Don DeLillo keep hanging in there, but with the recent passing of John Updike, they may become the next group of forgotten American writers like dos Passos and Bellows.  Harold Bloom will surely outlive them all.

The genre-specific fiction writers of the day may very well make their respective pantheons of fiction.  Stephen King will probably last, thanks to his voluminous output, but I don’t see him achieving any genre-transcending apotheosis.  P.D. James, Kathy Reichs, David Baldacci, Sue Grafton, William Bernhardt, Lilian Jackson Braun, Scott Turow, James Patterson, Janet Evanovich, Patricia Cornwell, Terry Pratchett, George R.R. Martin, Robert Jordan, et al. may soon join the ranks of Asimov, Heinlein, Clarke, Doyle, Christie, Stout, Wells, Verne, and Tolkien.

In poetry, Gwendolyn Brooks, Rita Dove, Garrett Hongo, Naomi Shihab Nye, Ntozake Shange, and Leslie Marmon Silko are most likely going to be featured in anthologies for years to come.  Other than Stephen Sondheim, I have no idea who will be the dramatists of the future.  Now that August Wilson is gone, once Edward Albee shuffles off his mortal coil American theater will completely belong to David Mamet and a new generation of playwrights, whoever those may be.

Comic books and graphic novels have been popular for years, but the recent upsurge of Manga’s popularity may continue for some time.  It is also quite possible that the main figures in graphic novel circles could achieve mainstream popularity and significance: Alan Moore, Frank Miller, Art Spiegelman, Chris Claremont, Neil Gaiman, Bill Willingham, J. Michael Straczynski, Grant Morrison, Garth Ennis, Chuck Dixon, Brian K. Vaughan, and John Byrne, to name a few who are building on the legacies of Stan Lee, Jerry Siegel, Bob Kane, and Will Eisner.

Works I Hope Will Be Remembered

Each generation thinks its things are the best.  The 50s generation loved Lucy and liked Ike.  The 60s listened to Motown, the Beach Boys, the Beatles, and folk music (not to forget Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs).  The 70s petted rocks and discoed with ducks.  You get the idea.  Since I have somehow transferred out of being part of the youth of America, I am probably set in my preferences about what I think is meaningful.  Fortunately for me, and now you, I happen to be right.

Since most of the music I listen to is from before my time, the main musical groups I hope will be considered significant and memorable are a bit before this generation’s time: U2 (this is almost a certainty, thanks to Bono’s humanitarian efforts), Genesis, Rush, The Moody Blues, The Police, and others that need not be enumerated here, since most that I listen to are already significant and will continue to be so even through this digital age.  What can I say, I’m a man of the classics.  The more recent artists I believe are worthy of lasting recognition are the Dave Matthews Band, Live, The Black Crowes, and Collective Soul.  That’s about it.  I’m sure there are some Phish and Dream Theater fans who would disagree; that’s fine.

I haven’t seen a whole lot of movies in the theater in the last few years, either, so I can’t say too much about recent cinema.  Indiana Jones movies are good entertainment, along with the first three Star Wars episodes (by “first three” I mean IV, V, and VI), but the oeuvres of Spielberg and Lucas are assuredly secure already.

Television series that are worth watching again and again (the more recent ones) are, of course, Babylon 5, Mystery Science Theater 3000, Red Dwarf, Farscape, Lost, Alias, Battlestar Galactica, the Star Treks, Quantum Leap, NewsRadio, Cosby Show, Cheers, Perfect Strangers, As Time Goes By, Cracker, Prime Suspect, Fry and Laurie, and Whose Line is it Anyway?  Not many of those may be remembered, but they should be, considering the dilapidated state of entertainment today, especially if you add the halcyon ’80s: MacGyver, Remington Steele, A-Team, Scarecrow and Mrs. King, G.I. Joe, Transformers, Muppet Babies, ThunderCats, Shirt Tales, Littles, Pirates of Dark Water, M.A.S.K., Mysterious Cities of Gold, Smurfs, Inspector Gadget, Ghostbusters, etc.  Stock up on the dvds now.

I don’t know of too many fiction authors, poets, or playwrights other than those enumerated above who should be considered significant.  If Philip K. Dick does not stay popular, things are in seriously bad shape.  Most of the genre-specific elite will stay elite, since their fans keep the home fires burning without the aid of scholarly journals.  I hope some of the seemingly forgotten authors of the recent past (Michener, Clavell, Uris, Bellows) will return not just to popularity but to critical acclaim.  Most of you have heard me extol the praises of ISI (the Intercollegiate Studies Institute) and ISI Books to know I hope they become even more significant in the years ahead.  Other nonfiction authors who should be recognized are Roger Kimball, Fr. James V. Schall, our old friend Michael Wood, Gilbert Meilander, Michael Dirda, Roger Scruton, Christopher Dawson, and Peter Kreeft, to name a few.  Their bibliographies will direct you to the greats of days gone by, as well.

Cultural Influences and Beyond

As we have tried to show in just about every class at Summit, the artistic output of a culture is influenced significantly by the other factors of the day, even when the artists are intentionally trying to reject society and/or tradition.  Our own day has certainly had its share of significant events: the terrorist destruction of the World Trade Center; the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq; the natural disasters in the Gulf Coast, India, Haiti, and Japan; and the presidencies of George W. Bush and Barack Obama, just to name a few.  Certainly these have incited a great number of petulant and partisan responses, from both Conservatives and Liberals.  Like most  political diatribes and satires, they will be passé and outdated within a few years, if they aren’t already.  While kairotic, this sort of work is quintessentially ephemeral.

Some argue we are already post-postmodern, but this is part of the desire to label, quantify, and valuate hampering the overall quality of our era.  As this fad grows, it will itself become a factor in the output of society and will play a role in what is considered significant in the generations ahead.  As we have made clear by now, this is a reactionary age (the need for labeling is a symptom of it), and we probably will be best known for remakes, reboots, and remixes.  I certainly did not foresee in the ’80s that the push toward recycling would overtake artistic output.

In a way, we are thus building off the Modern period’s rejection of what was theistic and traditional, but in an embarrassingly dumbed-down fashion.  By intentionally redoing what was already done (and that quite recently), our age thinks it can do everything better, yet it is tacitly admitting it can’t be creative enough to even try to be original.  The television industry is a key sign of this.  The only channels creating original (as original as can be, considering Solomon’s words so long ago) programming are the non-mainstream channels.  NBC, CBS, and ABC have given up, apparently, on all attempts at being new and fresh (Lost is one of the ultra-rare exceptions, but that’s over now).  This can be seen by the “franchises” and networks’ unwillingness to take risks: Law and Order, NCIS, CSI — procedurals have taken over the industry, and creativity has been abandoned for financial security.  The non-mainstream channels such as Fox, USA, and AMC (I suppose abandoning one’s origins and purpose is a way to be fresh) are the channels trying to be new and creative.  Why Fox gave up on its creative and enjoyable The Good Guys so quickly is a mystery, though this is the same channel that gave up on Brisco County Jr., so we can’t be all that surprised — creativity can only go so far in an industry concerned mainly about “the bottom line.”  The number of series that come and go so quickly these days is an embarrassing testament to the industry’s inability to be patient.  No one remembers the lesson of M*A*S*H, unfortunately.

Another key cultural factor that will affect significant film and literary output is technology.  The infatuation with not-so-special effects is ruining the ability for movies to tell good, enjoyable stories.  Why George Lucas didn’t remember this when making Episodes I, II, and III is a mystery.  Hypertext fiction main become part of the new wave of “writing.”  Beyond digital readers, what iPods are doing for the music industry, iPads may do for the writing industry.  I do not see printing ending within your lifetime, David, since too many billions of dollars are still invested in it (especially in the college textbook racket).  Though some colleges are piloting iPad “textbooks,” it is still too soon for that to become mainstream, especially in neighborhoods and school districts that still don’t have Internet access.  Too many people still like “real” books for them to just go away any time soon.

The socio-political atmosphere in which we find ourselves will certainly influence artistic output as well.  In an era of “No Child Left Behind,” ever-increasing crude oil prices, ever-diminishing test scores compared to the Far East, plagiarism, performance enhancing scandals in every sport, NCAA rules violations commonplace, overcrowded jails, pornography studies in higher education, jobs outsourced at an increasing rate, and cell phone/Internet dependency, the situation looks grim.

Fear not!  God is still in control, Jesus is alive and well, the Church is growing, and the transcendent standards of Beauty, Truth, and Goodness are still as relevant and accessible as ever.  Once in awhile a good album, book, and movie comes out, and the classics are still there, regardless of what the future may bring.  Thanks for the good questions, David.  Keep them coming, Faithful Readers!  Excelsior!

Transformation of Our Minds: What is Reality?

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Christopher Rush

Romans 12:1-2 is a continuation of the direction of Romans as a unified letter, especially its immediate context of chapter 11.  It is after the doxology of 11:33-36 that Paul refocuses our response to who God is and what He has done through our spiritual act of worship in 12:1 and our spiritual transformation of our minds in 12:2.  Before we can “dive in” to Romans 12:1-2 (as so many previous chapel speakers have done), it is important to get a grounding in the direction of Paul’s thought, especially since it concerns one of the most rudimentary and therefore essential questions: what is reality?

To an extent, the expression “the real world” is a contradiction in terms.  The universe, mankind, and all of the material world — and even the angels and demons — are artificial, in that they have been created; they have an origin external to themselves.  Thus, when you are eating “all natural food,” you are, in a way, eating something artificial.  The distinction, though, is admittedly tenuous here.  What God has directly created is certainly real: simply, it is important to understand metaphysically that God, a spirit Being with no origin, is ultimate reality, and thus what God is, in attribute and subsistence, is the “most real,” if you will allow the expression.  I am not advocating an ascetic dualism — the body and the material universe are both real and important.  An integral part of our identity/nature as people is our physicality and the sensuous ways we interact with and understand the created material world.  We will receive resurrected physical bodies as part of God’s master plan, re-incorporealizing our souls for eternity.  But as people created in the image of a non-material Being, what most connects us to God are our supernatural, non-physical attributes, those that connect us to what is originally (though without origin) “real.”

A moment ago, I mentioned that the expression “the real world” is a bit of an oxymoron, though only in a causal sense of secondary/created origin.  The world is real, yes, but the problem now is that most often it seems when people use the expression “real world,” they are not actually referring to the “real world.”  What do they mean?  “Once you graduate from high school, you are going to go into the ‘real world.’”  What?  If this is not real — if high school is not real -– why are you wasting your time with it?  I suspect that only those who did poorly at high school consider it not real in their later years; perhaps their high school thought education was something it is not – more in a moment on that issue.  The “real world,” they say.  “You gotta go to college so you can get a degree and training for a job so you can succeed in the ‘real world.’”  Total shash.  Again we see the misunderstanding about the nature and purpose of education but also the complete misunderstanding of “the real world.”  To these people, the “real world” consists only of fruitless, monotonous labor, purposeless existence, taxes, a job — not a vocation, but a job — and financial security.  Financial security!  Zeus is less mythological than “financial security”: let’s get that straight.

What else does the “real world” consist of to these people?  A substantial house that can fit all your needs with room enough for all your pseudo-necessary material things, a serviceable fleet of cars that can get you everywhere you need to get.  At least one graduate degree so you can afford more children and things to put in your ever-expanding house.  But mostly, again, to them the real world is taxes and bills and the need to work some job so you can pay your taxes and bills.  This, to them, is the “real world.”  Who are these people?  Maybe they live in your house.  Sorry about that.  Maybe they snuck into your house when you became a junior and replaced what used to be a reasonable, clear-thinking parent.  In my experience, the people who mistakenly and vociferously think taxes, bills, and a job constitute the majority if not the sum total of the “real world” are what the social scientists call “Baby Boomers,” at least the latter half and most likely the early half of Generation X as well.  The generation that still refers to them as the “Chicago Transit Authority.”  Those people.  The generation that grew up in the affluency of post-WW2 America, who, having grown up with no want other than not going to Vietnam, decided that the goal of life was “personal peace and affluence,” as Dr. Schaeffer so succinctly puts it.  And when they became the adults (and possibly your parents), their primary goal became their children’s happiness.  They feel they are “looking out” for the best interests of their kids because they want them to be safe, secure, successful, and happy.  Unfortunately, the standards of safety and security here are not God’s.  The abundant life Jesus came to impart in John 10:10 bespeaks nothing of opulence, affluence, material security, or even, really, happiness as a distinct, achievable, psycho-emotional phenomenon.

Interestingly enough, Jesus’ great comfort about the abundant life comes directly after, as a contrast, the nature of the Devil as the thief who comes to steal, kill, and destroy (the connection to the thief here in John 10 and the Devil in John 8 is too similar to be ignored).  What a better paraphrase in the 21st century for work of Satan?  “Steal, kill, and destroy” become “taxes, bills, and a job.”  That sounds funnier than I intended, but the point is the same.  Satan, the Father of Lies, desires to steal, kill, and destroy the abundant life given to us by the Good Shepherd — what better way to do it than by deluding us into believing (if not downright coveting) the idea that reality, and the abundant life, is merely about achieving enough social notoriety and material solubility to conquer taxes, bills, and a job?  If we can do that, our lives are a success, according to the puerile standards of the world and the Devil — even “well-intentioned” people.  You must pay your taxes, as Jesus clearly indicated in Matthew; you should pay your bills and be as debt-free as possible, don’t misunderstand me there.  As for a job — better to follow your God-given vocation than just “get a job.”  A job is something from which you can retire — there is no retiring from the Christian life, so we should focus our energies as soon as possible in following our God-given vocation of the connection between both what we do and who we are.  All these are real and important, but not the sum total of the real, real world.  Not even close.

What, then, is the “real world,” you ask?  An adroit question.  Paul addresses that in Romans 11:33-36, the predicatory basis for Romans 12:1-2.  In order to understand what he means in 12:1-2, though, we obviously have to approach it in its context.  The context of the three distinct parts of Romans 11:33-36 is, clearly, chapters ten and eleven.  The main subject of Romans 10 and 11 is the partial, temporary, spiritual hardening of the nation of Israel: “I do not want you to be ignorant of this mystery, brothers, so that you may not be conceited: Israel has experienced a hardening in part until the full number of the Gentiles has come in” (11:25).  Paul tells his Roman audience about the unfulfilled destiny of Israel so they won’t be conceited or “wise in their own estimation” as the NASB puts it.  Who needs to hear that more than the inheritors of Seneca, Cicero, and Marcus Aurelius?  Israel, says Paul, is now what you, the Christians of Rome, used to be, but God is not done with them.  When he says in verse 26 that all Israel will be saved, we do well to remember earlier in Romans 9 that Paul made clear not all “Israelites” are Israelites in the sense Paul uses here.  The Israelites of the promise, here, in chapter 11, are demonstrating God’s mercy — we now have been grafted in to the root of Jesse.  But God is not done with the original plant source yet.  The real Israel, the “more real Israel,” if you will, will be shown mercy (11:31).  11:32 takes us back even further, to the Garden of Eden: “God has shut up all in disobedience so that He may show mercy to all.”  God did not desire sin, but He allowed it and justly punished mankind through its ambassadors in part, it seems here, to show mercy.  Our infralapsarian cousins will tell us this mercy became “emergency plan B,” but Paul disagrees.  The intentional, planned mercy of God of 11:31-32 (its intentionality is made clear by the progression of chapters 9-11) leads to the doxological outburst of vv33-36 — it is not just an interpolation but also a logical and emotional reaction to the mercy of God.  It is this doxology that defines the real world and lays the foundation for our proper spiritual responses in 12:1-2.

What makes it more than an interpolation? you wonder.  You are just rife with impressive questions today.  Paul intimates there is a causal chain in v32 — God desired to show mercy!  What an incomprehensible thought!  No wonder Paul follows up that causal chain (God’s creation sinned, God justly punished in order to show mercy) with a declaration of the inscrutable nature of God’s intellect.  Who but God would go through what He did to redeem mankind (man-un-kind, as e.e. cummings calls us) and show mercy even perfunctorily? let alone from a desire to do so!  Some might suspect that God created man free to sin with the hope he would sin so God could show this eagerly anticipated mercy, but Paul has already squashed that notion back in chapter six: should people keep sinning so God’s mercy can happen even more?  May it never be! says Paul.  Certainly the Bible continually reminds us God desires obedience.  In a paltry analogy, we may desire to be kind and generous to our friends, but we wouldn’t desire them to get into painful circumstances in which we can demonstrate that friendship.  Similarly (though more importantly), God punished mankind for his free will sin, not wanting it to happen though knowing it would, and continued “the plan” to begin His mercy, as inaugurated in the protoevangelium of Genesis 3:15.  It is this paradox of God, the perfect union of otherwise mutually exclusive ideas, justice and mercy, that sends Paul into an outburst of praise.  Before looking more directly at this doxology that leads into our key passage on mental transformation, a brief look at what another inspired, near-Scriptural author tells us of mercy:

The quality of mercy is not strain’d,

It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven

Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest;

It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:

’Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes

The throned monarch better than his crown;

His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,

The attribute to awe and majesty,

Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;

But mercy is above this sceptred sway;

It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,

It is an attribute to God himself;

And earthly power doth then show likest God’s

When mercy seasons justice. Therefore …

Though justice be thy plea, consider this,

That, in the course of justice, none of us

Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy;

And that same prayer doth teach us all to render

The deeds of mercy.

Perhaps no better commentary on mercy, and thus God’s mercy, exists.  This inscrutable conjunction of justice and mercy (which did not exist in Shakespeare’s Venice) takes Paul into his outburst of praise.  Now we are ready to examine Romans 11:33-36.  Please turn there now if you haven’t already done.  I will be quoting the NASB, to which you can compare your NIV.

v33 Oh the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God!  How unsearchable are His judgments and unfathomable His ways!

v34 For who has known the mind of the Lord, or who became His counselor?

v35 Or who has first given to Him that it might be paid back to Him again?

v36 For from Him and through Him and to Him are all things.  To Him be the glory forever.  Amen.

Verse 33 tells us four things of the nature and source of the planned mercy of God:

1. deep riches of wisdom

2. deep riches of knowledge

3. unsearchable judgments

4. unfathomable ways

Having already discussed the riches of God’s kindness, tolerance, and patience in chapter 2, Paul now distinguishes God’s wisdom and knowledge.  Both are deep (so much so they are boundless) and are both described as riches, i.e., worth attaining and having.  Many have defined wisdom and knowledge as discrete mental/spiritual qualities, yet all remind us of their connection and mutual dependency.  Cardinal Newman reminds us that real knowledge is not simply a passing familiarity with the elements of reality as discrete, isolated events.  You don’t really have knowledge about a monkey wrench if you don’t know what distinguishes it from other tools or even how to use it (being skilled at using it is another issue).  Knowledge is a two-fold comprehension of the elements of reality both in their intrinsically valuable sense and in connection and relation to the rest of the created order of reality.  You don’t have knowledge bout biology if you don’t know what the purpose of life is and how life is part of the created cosmological ecosystem of metaphysical reality.  Knowledge is an understanding of relationships and interconnectedness.  This is the fundamental reason why contemporary post-secondary education in the West is a total failure.  And, probably, why most people think high school isn’t the real world — perhaps it isn’t, if their high school didn’t convey real knowledge.  More so than the permeation of Marxism, the emphasis on discrete courses and majors leading to overspecialization has destroyed our understanding of knowledge itself.  (This is also, incidentally, why watching most news programs today is a complete waste of time — read Amusing Ourselves to Death by Neil Postman for clarification).  Knowledge is understanding how all of reality is connected, in both utility and aesthetics.  Wisdom is the proper use of knowledge: wisdom is knowledge in action.  Paul begins with action and ends with action in v33, reminding us that knowledge by itself is dangerous and ultimately futile, a kind of idolatry.  But while he reminds us that proper action is central to life, he emphasizes the superiority of the unseen — knowledge and judgments — the spiritual aspect of reality, since God is a spiritual Being (and Romans 12:1 tells us to worship spiritually — more we shall say in a moment).

Why does Paul describe God’s wisdom and knowledge as “rich”?  They certainly did not become rich after mankind needed mercy.  God was and is complete and sufficient.  Milton reminds us that God needed and needs no one or no thing.  God did not create man to worship Him because He needed it.  God’s “internal” attributes of wisdom and knowledge were rich before we came along.  They are valuable because they belong to God.  And because we too belong to God and are enjoined to become like Him, we need to value His wisdom and knowledge, undaunted by their bottomless nature.  To a degree, they are attainable, even though they direct and guide what we really can’t search out and fathom: God’s judgments and ways.  It’s possible that Paul distinguishes the wisdom and knowledge of God from His judgments and actions because we are to seek out one pair and worship/revel in the other.  I don’t want to press the point too firmly, since God’s thoughts and actions are connected just as ours are.  It is likely that Paul is setting out a challenge for us to pursue that which we won’t be able to complete but is regardless worth pursuing, since the whole section we are examining today is one long chain of ideas, whose connection will hopefully become more lucid in a moment.

Verses 34 and 35 give three reasons why God’s judgments and ways are inscrutable to us now, highlighting what are not yet in contrast to what His mercy tells us of Himself in v33 and who He is in v36:

1. knowers of God’s mind

2. His counselor

3. lender to God to make Him a debtor

We don’t know the mind of God yet — remember Paul is constructing a remarkable logic chain — hold on for a few more moments.  No one is counselor to the Wonderful Counselor — not then, not now, not to come, but that doesn’t mean He doesn’t want to talk to us.  Through Isaiah we are told God does desire rational discourse and intelligent conversation with us.  Part of the reason David was a man after God’s own heart was because he was after God’s own heart — through music, prayer, petition, and rational dialogue.  Simply, it is not our role to tell God what to do.  But this can get admittedly tricky: the Lord’s Prayer has no “please”s in it, no “please give us this day our daily bread” or “please forgive our debts.”  Jesus seems to welcome us to come boldly before the throne of God with requests: though I would urge two words of caution.  First, both the Old and New Testaments are painfully clear that God is eager to grant requests if they align with His will (which we will get to soon, I promise); second, remember that while you are approaching boldly, you are still approaching a throne – and you are not the one sitting on that throne.

I wonder, though, what God’s tone was like in Genesis 18.  You recall that God has told Abraham He is going to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah, and Abraham, knowing his nephew Lot was there with his family, gets downright uppity with the theophany visiting him on a social-turned-informative tête-à-tête.

v23 And Abraham came near and said, “Wilt Thou indeed sweep away the righteous with the wicked?

v24 “Suppose there are fifty righteous within the city; wilt Thou indeed sweep it away and not spare the place for the sake of the fifty righteous who are in it?

v25 “Far be it from Thee to do such a thing, to slay the righteous with the wicked, so that the righteous and the wicked are treated alike.  Far be it from Thee!  Shall not the Judge of all the earth deal justly?”

Pretty bold words indeed!  But God does not get defensive; He does not respond with, “Excuse me?  Who do you think you are?  Didn’t I just tell you what I was going to do and you are telling me ‘no, you’re not’?”  Based on how long the back-and-forth goes, I can almost imagine a sort of gleam in the tone of this pre-incarnate Christ: “Nope, not for 50.  45?  I can do 45.  40?  That would work.  You want 30?  I can do 30.  20 is no problem either.  10?  Sure, let’s go with 10.”  Perhaps Abraham was feeling bold because he had already enjoyed several occasions of walking and talking with the Lord of all the earth and had received direct promises of what God was going to do with and through him.  But even so, in his boldness, Abraham acknowledges his position: “Now behold, I have ventured to speak to the Lord, although I am but dust and ashes,” he admits with no-doubt genuine sincerity in v27.  And the end of the chapter is especially telling: “And as soon as He had finished speaking to Abraham the Lord departed; and Abraham returned to his place” (v33).  God was willing to continue the conversation until He was finished, patiently (if not humorously) listening to Abraham’s bootless cries.  Yet, the last independent clause perhaps speaks to us on more than one level: Abraham went back to his place physically, having said what he wanted to say, but it’s also quite possible (without stepping too far into linguistic eisegesis) that Abraham “returned to his place” rhetorically as well, not just to his home but also his proper inter-relational spot as the doer of God’s deeds, not the advisor to God’s actions.

Later in the Pentateuch, Moses seems to change God’s mind on more than one occasion, essentially by using the same argument Abraham used above: clearly you aren’t going to punish the good with the bad and act contrary to your nature, are you God?  Perhaps Moses does change God’s mind, but I hesitate to acquiesce definitively.  When Paul asks “who has become God’s counselor?” he is quoting Isaiah 40:13, one of the most encouraging chapters in the whole Bible: “Comfort, O comfort My people” says your God.  It would be easy to say Abraham and Moses were able to talk to God like this because they were Abraham and Moses, and you aren’t them.  That’s too easy.  We are to boldly approach the throne of grace as I said before, but remember who we are positionally, as even the great men of faith Abraham and Moses did.  Reason together with God, but remember that no matter how great your ideas are, He is already enacting the best plan for the good of those who love Him.  It may seem messy and unjust to us at times, but Paul’s quotation of Isaiah here in Romans 11:34 leads to the commands of Romans 12:1-2, as we shall see soon.

Just as we are never in a position to truly counsel God, we are never in a position to be so generous to God that He becomes indebted to us.  Paul recalls a variation of Job 35:7 in this verse; Malachi 3:10 reminds us perhaps even more forcefully how incapable we are at overwhelming God with generosity.  No matter how generous we are to God (the only time we are encouraged to test God’s faithfulness is here in this issue), He is eagerly awaiting to overwhelm us with real generosity.  The basis for His ability to be generous is found in Romans 11:36, as Paul’s causal chain of logic grows ever stronger.  This verse tells us three central things about God in terms of the metaphysical ultimate reality where we began this investigation: “For from Him and through Him and to Him are all things.  To Him be the glory forever.  Amen.”  In addition to the source and nature of God’s mercy, in contrast to who we are now, in relation to reality God is three things:

1. From: Creator/Originator/Giver of all things, spiritually and materially

2. Through: Director/Connector/Conduit of all things

3. To: Receiver/Worthy One who has earned and deserves all

With the implicit self-existing, uncreated ontology of God, v36 affirms for us ultimate reality.  All things had their origin in God, all created things come from God, and all of created reality is purposed to return back to Christ-who-is-God.  Clearly, we can’t be too generous in such a situation.  What do you give the God who has everything, who created the base materials from which all the so-called inventions have ever come?  Paul has anticipated that question in v36: not only do the entire created material and immaterial worlds return to God (though in diverse ways, for even the punishment of the fallen, unredeemed angelic world will accomplish this), but all the glory of the universe returns to Him, not once, not on major holidays, but for ever.  Reality has an intrinsic meaning in its position as the work of God, and it emanates glory back to its source.  Hopkins tells us “the world is charged with the grandeur of God”!  Clearly that is being accomplished in limited fashions as Paul has earlier told us in Romans 8 that the world is groaning in its sinfully damaged state now, waiting the restoration that will come in one sense in the millennial kingdom and more fully in the New Heaven and New Earth.  This, finally, is the real real world: that which has its origin, direction, and completion in Christ-who-is-God.   How much more significant and awesome than the bastardized version advertised incessantly on too many channels, stations, and sites!  Clearly life is not just about getting a job so you can pay taxes and bills and overflow a house with lots of stuff.  (A personal library is another matter, of course.)

Now we are ready to see how this causal chain grounded in ultimate reality culminates in Romans 12:1-2.  Paul reminds his audience of the central, incomplete work being done in Israel and how marvelous God’s grace is through the in-grafting of the Gentile world into that cosmically organic work.  But not just the importance of the deed itself; Paul contextualized the temporary hiatus of Israel as justice in contrast to the mercy of Gentile incorporation, and through the paradoxical intertwining of these apposite opposites, Paul grounds the work of Christ in the flow of His eternal nature and plan: through the disobedience of man-un-kind, God lavishly poured out His generosity in the incarnation of His Son (in part as an invitation to engage in a contest of generosity with His creation) — the embodiment of the logos to continue and redeem the much-missed dialogue between Him and His creation further valuing the physical demi-nature of mankind.  Through this hypostatic union of God and Man comes the hypostatic union of justice and mercy, a gift of unsearchable judgment and a sacrifice of an unfathomable action, grounded in bottomless depths of the valuably priceless wisdom and knowledge of God, who knows without counsel and gives without receipt as the Originator, Conduit, and Receptacle of all reality and all glory for all time.  That is reality and that leads Paul to the conclusion of his logic chain: what then should we do?  If we can’t counsel God, if we can’t give what He doesn’t need, what do we do?  What do we give the God who has everything?  Paul’s answer: the one thing He doesn’t yet have — yourself.

The NIV translation is, as you most likely have in front of you, “Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God — this is your spiritual act of worship.”  Though Paul’s “therefore” may most directly refer to the juxtaposition of justice and mercy from 11:32, it is also a continuation of the thought we’ve just explored in the doxology of v33-36.  Because of God’s eager demonstration of mercy, our response to the Creator of all should be as follows.  Paul continues the heightened tone of excitement initiated by the awareness of God’s eager display of mercy, continued by his epideictic doxology, which he transforms into a hortatory response: now he urges us to respond appropriately and in kind.  Not just an “if you can get around to it that would be swell,” as we so often consider New Testament imperatives of conduct to be.  Not “please pencil this into your Franklin-Covey™ Day-planner when you get the chance”; no.  Paul urges us to do this, and we should obey immediately.

The next phrase is translated in a variety of ways, which is unfortunate, since it is an integral part of Paul’s exhortation.  Mostly it is an issue of preposition.  Many, if not most, of the hermeneutical uprisings in the history of exegetical warfare have been instigated over prepositions, the most notable being the rapture brouhaha centered in the preposition ek in Revelation 3:10.  Tyndale’s version, “I beseech you therefore brethren, by the mercifulness of God, that ye make your bodies a quick sacrifice holy and acceptable unto God which is your reasonable serving of God.  And fashion not yourselves like unto this world: but be ye changed in your shape, by the renewing of your wits that ye my feel what thing that good, that acceptable, and perfect will of God is” … is quite lovely, but not terribly helpful.  The NIV, “in view of God’s mercy,” strikes one as passive at best, a complacent observation virtually synonymous with the just-mentioned “therefore.”  The NASB here says “by the mercies of God.”  It’s doubtful this connects to his motivation of urgency; he has already used the adverbial conjunction “therefore,” which the NIV repeats unnecessarily.  The “by” most likely does not mean “for the reason of.”  The “by,” instead, indicates a second effect of God’s mercy.  Not only does his demonstrated mercy counterbalance His justice and enable us to receive the abundant life in the first place (called “justification”), but it also here enables us to respond appropriately.  What, finally, is that appropriate response?  A free-will offering.

We are to present, firstly, our bodies to God.  V2 deals with the crucial mental aspects of genuine worship, but Paul must continue to develop the appropriate context and deal with the physical first.  Our bodies are to become gifts of sacrificial worship.  These gifts we present have three qualities: living, holy, and acceptable (“pleasing” in the NIV).  God made His preferences clear throughout the Old Testament, especially in the Minor Prophets, that burnt, dead, oily sacrifices are not terribly intrinsically interesting to Him.  God has always been desirous of living, authentic worshippers.  Living things grow, develop, and mature — worshippers must then be the same.  Static, one-time offerings are not what God wants.  In our new position of gifts of worship, we are to live as an offering, one that improves with age and use.  The second attribute, holy, has certainly developed a lot of mystical detritus around it.  It doesn’t mean “perfect,” it doesn’t mean “awesome” — even when spoken in a hushed and apprehensive timbre — it doesn’t mean nearly any of the kabalistic super-spiritual things people use it to mean.  It’s a much simpler and wonderful concept: distinct, set apart, unlike the rest.  Real “holiness” is very quiet.  Some like to say that God’s holiness is the main attribute that drives Him, but that is nonsense.  No one single attribute of God’s works better or more effectively than the rest.  We are to be distinct offerings, devoted solely to the purpose of living a worshipful, maturing life.  We are set apart from the one-use dead offerings replete throughout the Old Testament, surfeiting so much of the contemporary church.  Our lives should appear, in deed and action, since Paul is telling us to offer our bodies, to be doing things unlike what the rest of humanity is doing.  Our actions have a different purpose and a different goal.  Thirdly, these head-to-toe gifts we present are to be pleasing or acceptable to God.  The very existence of this third attribute should clearly remind us that “holy” is not an all-encompassing adjective.  What does it mean to live a life pleasing and acceptable to God? One simple answer is to read the rest of Romans 12.  Following an exhortation that these lives of worship are actually to be lived on one giant altar holding all Christians as one integrated body that need one another (much more than we like to remember), Paul presents a series of aphoristic commands, all of which are mostly subordinate clarifications of verse 9: Let love be without hypocrisy, abhor what is evil, cling to what is good.  We shall return to this list momentarily, as Paul oscillates between examples of physical acts of worship as inaugurated here by verse 1 and mental acts of worship as continuations of verse 2, to which we now turn.  That the NASB calls this gift a “service” of worship and the NIV an “act” of worship needs little further explication; they are quite similar, though “service” does tinge it with a bit more importance, reminding us of the One positionally worthy to be served.

In verse 2 of Romans 12, Paul arrives at the climax of so many chapters of doctrinal development.  Beginning back in chapter one with the pattern of the world, Paul reminds us it is time not only to do something different as holy offerings but to be and think differently as well.  Again the NIV and NASB have different perspectives: the NIV says “do not conform any longer”; the NASB says “do not be conformed.”  Clearly the NIV is more active and aware of the history of sin than the NASB seems to be, but the simplicity of the NASB gets to the heart of the issue a bit faster.  The remedy for dis-conformity is not external, remember.  Paul has transitioned to a different aspect of the worshipful life.  Just as worship is not a one-time has-been drop off, real transformation and sanctification come from the non-physical, from the invisible attributes that make us human, primarily … the mind.

We don’t need to go over what “the pattern of this world” is, do we?  I have a suspicion that most of you have a pretty good conception of what the “pattern of this world” is.  It comes at you incessantly, in sights and sounds and everything else.  We have already talked about the dangers of thinking the “real world” and its pattern is all about utilitarian education and an acquisitive lifestyle as the means to happiness and fulfillment.  Pursuing genuine education, an understanding of real knowledge as a complex of integrated relationship, not for material ends but as an end in itself, is to pursue the pattern of the real world, the spiritual world God created and originally embodied.

Paul is overt that two patterns exist: clearly not all kinds of living or belief systems are acceptable to Paul.  Some actions and beliefs are of the world, some contribute to a sanctifying transformation.  It’s always a dichotomy, isn’t it?  A juxtaposition of two opposing ideas, as we discussed two years ago.  Sometimes the dichotomy is simple: milk chocolate goodness or dark chocolate depravity? enjoying eating at McDonald’s or being a sad, confused moral wastrel? appreciating the nonpareil brilliance of Shakespeare and Homer or living and dying alone and unloved?  Sometimes the choice is easy.  Sometimes the choice is more important but still easy: to be or not to be — the answer is obviously “to be.”  Sometimes the choice is important but difficult: should I love this person who doesn’t care about me or not? and if so, how do I do that?  Life is always about choices, which Paul implies by his exhortation to choose the path of transformation instead of conformation.

The benefits of renewing our minds are two: freedom from the pattern of the world, which always ends in tears and death, and the ability to reason out and understand what God actually wants.  What could be more important than that?  Did you notice the distinction Paul makes between the two patterns?  I know some of you are going to disagree (even though disagreeing with what the Bible says is rarely a good idea), but Paul intimates that it is not the Christian life that leads to boring, mindless, static conformity.  Yes, I know — you were starting to suspect that Christianity is boring and mundane — not so, says Paul.  It is the world that leads to conformity, the safety and security of “fitting in,” being a part of the popular crowd, subordinating your own talents, desires, and individuality for the sake of some Rousseaean “will of the people.”  Remember: one of the primary reasons the world hated Jesus is because He did not fit in with their standards and values.  Despite the pretense and lauding of the James Dean image, the world does not love “the rebel.”  This is why, essentially, the world hates Christianity.  Christianity rebels against the pattern of the world; Christianity seeks renewal and improvement.  Liberalism, despite its own press releases, seeks homogeneity in every aspect of society.  True, the goal of the Christian life is conformity to Christ-likeness, but conformity to perfection and the source of creativity instead of conformity to the dumbed-down, forced egalitarian mindless pap of secular society is hardly comparable.  What is boring about refashioning oneself into the image of reality itself?  The worshipful life of spiritual service is an exciting commitment to endless renewal.  It truly is transformation, not conformation.

As a brief aside, a further word should be said about boredom.  If you are a Christian, you have no excuse for ever being bored, even if you are in math class.  Stop being so erotically attached to being happy and enjoying life and start seeing reality for what it is: a display of God’s glory.  Dr. Johnson reminds us that if you are afraid to be alone, with only your thoughts, unable to be apart from pleasing external stimuli and unable to find meaning and importance in your own minds and whatever situation within which you find yourself, the fault, dear Brutuses, is not in your stars, but in yourselves.  You have a mind given by God; if you are truly renewing your minds as God expects of you, you will never be bored.  If you are, you, not your circumstances, are to blame.  Back to Paul.

It has fascinated me for quite some time that Paul declares this transformation comes from the renewing, not of our spirit or soul, but of the mind.  Initially we might suspect that it should be “the renewing of our soul” — after all, isn’t that the special invisible eternal aspect of us that is going to go to Heaven when our mortal coil has finished shuffling?  I suspect Paul does not tell us to renew our souls because, frankly, we can’t, at least not directly.  Sure, we may talk poetically about Matthew Arnold’s “Dover Beach” reaching into our souls and wrapping it in peace, or we may feel that some aesthetically pleasing sunset or painting wraps our soul in newfound sublimity heretofore non-existent to human experience, but that is mostly just figurative language.  The real conduit to our souls, the primary means of understanding and discerning reality, and thus the primary means of engaging in authentic worship, is the mind.  Paul uses the imperative “be transformed” because of all the supernatural components to human metaphysicality, the mind is that over which we have the most control.  The Bible wouldn’t tell us to take every thought captive if it wasn’t possible.  Similarly, as regenerate Christians, by the never-ending mercies of God, we have the ability to renew our minds.  We can now think clearly and accurately about reality!  That is not to say we will always get every piece of datum correct: being a Christian doesn’t make you an expert on logarithms, character analysis, or even the age of the earth.  What it means is that we can now start the ultimate adventure: knowing God and His reality.

Moments ago we said that much of the remainder of Romans 12 is an elaboration on both what the life of true worship is from v1 and what the will of God from v2 is.  Perhaps it is a coincidence that both our gifts of life-long worship and God’s will itself are “pleasing” or “acceptable,” but I doubt it.  So often we, as Christians, spend too much time lamenting, “what is God’s will for my life?  Why doesn’t He just write down what He wants me to do?”  I’ve got good news for you, young Christian, if you have ever asked those questions.  If you have a Bible open to Romans 12, God’s will for your life is right in front of you.

God’s will begins with proper mental alignment with reality.  Know your role.  V3 enjoins us not to think of ourselves too highly — I take it Vitruvius and Petrarch didn’t read this passage.  Know how you are connected to everyone else: your actions affect others, your choices affect others, you are on the same altar of worship with every other Christian — live in harmony as you transform your thinking by beginning with proper self-awareness and self-understanding as subordinate to God and subservient to fellow Christians.  Whatever skills and abilities you have, you are to use them for the well-being and betterment of those around you.

The great shift to personal worship in v9, as we mentioned before, never strays far from the interconnected nature of Christians as members of one body.  Notice how the dominant theme of the authentic life of worship, instigated by the renewal of our minds, is love.  Whether it is in action or thought, life is all about love.  Perhaps highlighting the centrality of mental-spiritual worship, Paul begins with a list of mental worship commands in v10-12:

Be devoted to one another in brotherly love.  Honor one another above yourselves.  Never be lacking in zeal or diligence, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord.  Be joyful in hope, patient (“persevere”) in affliction, faithful in prayer.  True, prayer is an action, though genuine prayer (like all genuine actions, as Lennier reminds us) must come from the right mentality and so acts as a good transition to a short list of mostly action-worship commands in v13-20:

Share with God’s people who are in need.  Practice hospitality.  Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse.  Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.  (Apparently God doesn’t want us to be happy all the time.  Reality is groaning in pain; if we are happy all the time, we are not paying enough attention to the world and people God loves.)  The NASB’s version of v16 connects the flow of thought better to v2: Be of the same mind toward one another; do not be haughty in mind, but associate with the lowly.  Do not be wise in your own estimation.  Returning to the NIV,

v17 Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everybody.

v18 If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.

v19 Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,” says the Lord.

v20 On the contrary: “If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink.  In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.”

v21 Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

With this, Paul returns to verses 1 and 2.  The only way we can avoid conformity and the only way we can do anything substantial for the world is to exchange the old, sinful conception of reality for the even older, more accurate, godly conception of reality by doing good.  And we can only do good when we know what it is, when we no longer think inaccurately but engage in a continuous renewing of our minds, motivated always by love.

Love drives these actions and thoughts, love for one’s enemies (the people and their needs, not the worldly pattern they embrace), love for fellow Christians (as evidenced by the commitment to be devoted to one another and of the same mind), and love for the God who created the universe, knowing what His role is and what ours is.  If we do these actions and think about ourselves and reality in these ways, we will be doing the will of God, a will that can be understood and proven through the renewing of our minds, which then guides are actions appropriately.

How do we, finally, renew our minds?  These actions and mental attributes at the end of chapter 12 are effects to the cause, since if we don’t have the proper mindset, we certainly aren’t going to see any point to, let alone actually do, any of the actions we’ve just read.  The entire year has been emphasizing this notion that we have to renew our minds: the theme has been transformation.  Practically, if this is transformation, we must go from some mentality to another.  We know what the world’s pattern is, how the world thinks, what the world values.  We know what God’s pattern is, how God thinks, what God values.  How do we get from A to B?  Death to life?

You can probably guess where I’m going with this.  In order to transform our thinking to God’s, we must enmesh ourselves in his Word.  The blessed man delights in the law of the Lord, upon which he meditates day and night, says Psalm 1.  Once you have committed to studying, memorizing, and meditating on God’s Word, you will be ready to engage in the Great Conversation, the one that takes place in the Realms of Gold — you know, what we spend most of English and Bible class time doing.  The one listed on the summer extra credit pages: begun with Achilles, refashioned by Hamlet, rejected by Julian Sorel and Leopold Bloom, and culminating (essentially) with Londo and G’Kar, the Great Conversation, grounded in the Word of God, is how we think clearly, and how we know who we are, what we want, and why we are here.  I encourage you, as Paul encourages us still through his epistle to the Romans, transform your life by renewing your mind.  Plant yourself by the River of Life in the Realms of Gold: meditate on God’s Word day and night and participate in the Great Conversation.  Read the great works of all time and contribute through your own written responses and creative works.  It is never too late, my friends, to seek a newer world.

But remember: we don’t read to learn about ourselves.  We read the great books not to find “the answers.”  If we did, there wouldn’t be so many of them.  We read, we write, we engage in the Great Conversation because we are to engage in the spiritual and mental conflict of reality.  We are to renew our minds, not our bodies, because, as Paul says in Ephesians, our battle is not against flesh and blood but a continuous battle against the spiritual forces of evil who will try to take you captive through deceptive philosophy.  That doesn’t mean you should avoid it — far from it.  How will you wage a successful defense if you do not know the intellectual terrain upon which the battle is being fought?  We need to read to engage in the ideas of the world — we need to know what they have said, what they consider true.  And the more we read, the more we will understand the nature of the battle, and all the more we will be driven back to the only book that gives real answers to the genuine questions about reality all the other books ask.  A classical education is based on asking questions.  A Christian education is based on the existence of all the right answers to all the right questions.  This education does not end in high school: it is only just beginning.  Explore forever the Realms of Gold, but always return to the Word of God, both incarnate and inspired, the gold standard of what is true, what is beautiful, and what is real.

This essay is adapted from a chapel address given May 21, 2010.

The Supper of the Mighty One — Foxtrot: Gabriel’s Genesis Retrospective, pt. 4

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Christopher Rush

No Line (or Apostrophe) on the Horizons

Genius is rarely recognized immediately.  Foxtrot reached only #12 on the charts in England and did not chart at all in America.  These nonsensical historical anecdotes aside, in 1972, Genesis gave us one of the greatest musical experiences of all time: Foxtrot.  The band is in full stride here, continuing its mature sounds and lyrical creativities from the success (if not commercial success) of Nursery Cryme.  If there was indeed a sense of subdued relief at the completion of the diverse and inaugural classic-lineup album, the energy has been refreshed and renewed, as evidenced by the initial archetypal sounds of Tony Banks’s mellotron.

“Watcher of the Skies”

For any fan of good music, all one has to do is hit the play button (or drop the tone arm into the grooves) and emit the unmistakable sounds of Tony Banks’s Mellotron Mark II, and after but one second of the sound everyone will know instantly that this is “Watcher of the Skies.”  It is that recognizable.  The introduction is very good, despite the progression through discordant chords — even Tony Banks detractors have great difficulty in rebutting this powerful and energetic introduction.  The gigantic sound sets the mood for the cosmic powers at play.

The lyric of the song is a strange supernatural tale about a galactic observer (doubtful it’s a supreme being, more likely a cousin or friend of Uatu) who discovers planet earth, apparently at the point of man’s last gasp, almost as if man is about to leave Earth behind — either because he is exterminating himself or because he is about to journey to the stars (but his self-destruction by his own devising is more likely).  The title is taken from John Keats’s delightful “On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer” (the poem that also gives us Keats’s great description of the world of art, literature, and beauty: the “realms of gold”): “Then I felt like some watcher of the skies / When a new planet swims into his ken.”

The story is ambiguous, as indicated in the uncertainty above: at times the words indicate life is going and possibly has been gone from Earth for a long time; other verses indicate that mankind is about to progress to another advanced phase: “Think not your journey done / For though your ship be sturdy, no / Mercy has the sea, / Will you survive on the ocean of being?”  The optimism of man’s potential shifts again in the final verse, along with the potential downfall and isolation to the point of extinction of the Watcher himself: “Sadly now your thoughts turn to the stars / Where we have gone you know you never can go. / Watcher of the skies watcher of all / This is your fate alone, this fate is your own.”

With the immense power of the music of this opening track, finishing up the weight and vastness of the Stephen Vincent Benét-like lyrics, Genesis has satisfied both the audience that believed Nursery Cryme was the cusp of greatness and the audience that knew Nursery Cryme was the beginning of the band’s peak output.  Gabriel’s lyrical skill has surpassed its tentative forays from the early years, building upon his initial attempts at ambiguity mixed with concrete emotional evocation, and achieving the longed-for narrative skill the band needed to complement its musical talents.

“Time Table”

In a way, “Time Table” continues the pattern Nursery Cryme set by alternating the fast-paced epic songs with the more melodic, almost quaint English life ballads.  However, the pattern is not complete, since “Time Table” has a stronger, more emphatic chorus than “For Absent Friends” and “Harlequin.”  Further, “Time Table” is more reminiscent of Trespass — the talk of kings and queens of old draws one back to that sophomore (not sophomoric in any way) effort.  The precision of the language is better than those days, though, especially in the chorus: “Why, why can we never be sure ’til we die / Or have killed for an answer, / Why, why do we suffer each race to believe / That no race has been grander? / It seems because through time and space / Though names may change each face retains the mark it wore.”  Not only is it refreshing that Gabriel is answering his own questions (finally), but also the melodic shifts of the “answer” lines are unlike any other motifs in the song, furthering the band’s connection between the music and the lyrics as integrated and integral aspects of their poetic/musical output.

The verses are reminiscent of Tu Fu’s “Jade Flower Palace” with a dash of Shelley’s “Ozymandias.”  Without trying to imply that Peter Gabriel is a better poet than either of those world masters, “Time Table” is a better lyric than those poems (though I admit I have only read “Jade Flower Palace” in translation — perhaps the original surpasses Gabriel).  The fullness of the title itself is more creative than the simple declaratives of the other two titles.  Initially is the extreme Britishness of the time table itself, harbinger of trains, schedules (with a “shed” sound, not “sked,” of course), and punctuality rivaled only by the Germans.  “Here is a song of the passage of time, how it has been chronicled and organized since the days of Bede and the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle,” says the title.

Four words into the song, though, the title takes on additional layers of significance: “A carved oak table, / Tells a tale….”  The time table is, in fact, an actual table, a carved oak table.  The layering is doubly rich: not only have we the table itself telling the tales by evoking memories “[o]f times when kings and queens sipped wine from goblets gold,” but the table is of carved oak, recalling to mind the aspect of knowing a tree’s age by cutting it down and counting its rings, telling a tale of its age and the weather incidents that affected its development and trunk life.  The title of this song is rich indeed.

The Britishness of the song continues, as the carved oak table tells the tale of English kings and queens and their glory halcyon days of old, when “the brave would lead their ladies out the room / To arbors cool. / A time of valor, and legends born / A time when honor meant much more to a man than life / And the days knew only strife to tell right from wrong / Through lance and sword.”  The subtlety of Gabriel’s lyric is impressive: what starts out as a nostalgic look backward to medieval jousting combats, feasts, and castles suddenly becomes a diatribe against uncivilized barbarity.  It seemed like a civilized time of honor and nobility, but their definition of glory (evinced by Ivanhoe himself) was, fundamentally, “might makes right.”  The chorus, quoted above, furthers the political overtones of the song.  Beyond the medieval imagery, the song is a universal denunciation of all xenophobic military mindsets, British or otherwise.  The winsome music accompanying the “answer” section of the chorus turns out to be an almost ironic response, as if the answer is so self-evident it can’t be answered with a straight face: human nature (barbaric, aggressive) never changes.

Verse two is even more reminiscent of “Jade Flower Palace”: “A dusty table / Musty smells / Tarnished silver lies discarded upon the floor / Only feeble light descends through a film of grey / That scars the panes.”  The narrator cannot even recall the scenes with zestful authenticity anymore; the oak table, once a sign of strength and security, is just a collector of dust.  The cool arbors are replaced by musty smells.  The refulgent gold goblets and chargers are scarring, miasmic, filmy grey memories.  “Gone the carving, and those who left their mark, / Gone the kings and queens now only the rats hold sway / And the weak must die according to nature’s law / As old as they.”  Gabriel works in another great subtle line, as the carved oak table (first carved as an example of craftsmanship, now carved as a memory bank of those who sat and dined, lived and loved there) is shown against the scarring light — the notches of conquests are now the scars of memories and the scars of faded glory.  The strong warriors and leaders fell away, succumbing to the passages of time and the unconquerable reign of nature.  The lament-filled chorus returns and the Trespass-like sounds soon play the memories into oblivion.  The fading dulcimer tones are quite appropriate for the final moods of the song.

“Get ’Em Out By Friday”

In the vein of “Harold the Barrel,” “Get ’Em Out By Friday” is a multiple-narrator story, but the song as a whole is more complex (which does not imply “better”) and more social awareness-oriented like Selling England By the Pound.  Without looking at the words the first time one listens to the song, one might suppose the song is about shipping clerks, but it’s not, unfortunately.  The song has three main characters: John Pebble of Styx Enterprises, Mark Hall of Styx Enterprises (“The Winkler”), and Mrs. Barrow (a tenant).  Not too much time passes before we realize Styx Enterprises is not about the band (especially since the band had not yet reached mainstream popularity) but the Underworld.  Pebble and The Winkler are clearly in league with Satan, but the song is not as darkly supernatural as that accusation implies.

John Pebble is a landowning entrepreneur in the most acquisitive and degrading senses on the word: “Get ’em out by Friday! / You don’t get paid ’til the last one’s well on his way. / Get ’em out by Friday! / It’s important that we keep to schedule, there must be no delay.”  Before the first verse is over, Pebble makes his priorities clear: profit is the supreme good.  The well-being of people, even employees, is irrelevant.  The legality of Pebble’s threat that his employees won’t get paid until they finish evicting all the tenants is suspect, but who knows what wage systems were in place in 1970s England.

Mark “Winkler” Hall follows orders.  “I represent a firm of gentlemen who recently purchased this / house and all the others in the road, / In the interest of humanity we’ve found a better place for you to go-go-go-go-go.”  The Winkler puts the most dangerous spin on economy: the interest of humanity.  The real interest, of course, is Styx Enterprise’s profit interest.  Mrs. Barrow, poor tenant, provides the typical human response (phrased in a typical British way): “Oh, no, this I can’t believe, / Oh, Mary, they’re asking us to leave.”  Since The Winkler is asking them to leave, it’s possible that Styx Enterprises has no legal recourse to evict the people after all, especially since his supreme value of profit does not allow basic human sentiment.  If they had the right to evict them, they would do so immediately, especially without bribing them to move.

Back at Styx Enterprises, Mr. Pebble is upset and flustered: “Get ’em out by Friday! / I’ve told you before, ’s good many gone if we let them stay. / And if it isn’t easy, / You can squeeze a little grease and our troubles will soon run away.”  Like a typical Barney Miller slum lord, Pebble is concerned about immediacy of his plans and is willing to resort to a slightly smaller profit margin (with distributed bribe money) if it forestalls widespread public awareness of their methodology.

Mrs. Barrow’s response to The Winkler is confusing.  She desires to stay in her home so badly she offers to pay twice her current rent, but she allows him to convince her to take 400£s and move to a flat with central heating based on a photograph.  She even admits they’re “going to find it hard” at that place.  Now that Pebble has his way, acquisitiveness rules again: “Now we’ve got them! / I’ve always said that cash cash cash can do anything well. / Work can be rewarding / When a flash of intuition is a gift that helps you excel-sell-sell.”  I’m not certain acquisitiveness is either a gift or a flash of intuition, but pecuniary-minded people think strangely about reality.  The Winkler informs Mrs. Barrow that her rent for her new place has been raised, to which she responds, “Oh, no, this I can’t believe, / Oh, Mary, and we agreed to leave.”

A musical interlude indicates the passage of time, during which Styx Enterprises disappears, and Mr. Pebble has been knighted and now works for United Blacksprings International.  I suspect Styx Enterprises has transformed into UBI, since “Blacksprings” is too like the river Styx to be anything but infernal.  Now that the year is 2012 (in the song), a modern, futuristic name is needed to hide its diabolical business.  In this futuristic world run by Satan’s Pebbles of the world, Genetic Control has declared that people will only be four feet tall, in order to fit more tenants in UBI’s tenements.  The new representative of the common man, Joe Ordinary, who frequents the Local Pub-o-rama (definitely a British expression of the future), recognizes their shady and unscrupulous practices.  As Gabriel sang in “Time Table,” the names have changed but the motivations and methods never do: “in the interest of humanity,” says Joe Ordinary, “they’ve been told they must go-go-go-go.”  The interest is not of humanity, of course, but of the Blacksprings.  Sir John de Pebble rouses The Winkler from some sort of dormancy (is he, after all, a spirit?): he has more work to do.

The end of the song is another layered ambiguity from the lyrically mature Peter Gabriel (whose name is incredibly ironic concerning this song).  According to the liner notes, the last two lines are a memo from Satin Peter of Rock Developments Limited.  Whether “Satin” is an accidental misspelling of “Saint” is unclear, though it could be an intentional Saint/Satan ambiguity (or Gabriel could be prefiguring Bryan Earwood’s typical spelling of “Satan”).  I doubt Gabriel is positing Peter and Satan are the same, and as mentioned before, the song is not as overtly diabolical as this brief treatment may make it seem.  Gabriel’s intelligence is shown by having Peter work for Rock Developments Limited, since, if it is really Saint Peter, Gabriel’s knowledge that he is the rock is impressive, even if he is somewhat derogatorily saying the developments of the rock (perhaps the church herself) are a “limited” enterprise, especially in contrast to the dominance of United Blacksprings International.  The memo itself is again Blakean: “With land in your hand you’ll be happy on earth / Then invest in the Church for your heaven.”  You can figure that one out for yourself.

“Can-Utility and the Coastliners”

Genesis’s range of source material has clearly transcended its scriptural From Genesis to Revelation beginnings.  Trespass gave us, among others, the beast fable of Fang the wolf.  Nursery Cryme showed their penchant for classical myth and Victorian fantasy.  Here, on Foxtrot, Genesis extends their mythical range to the Viking King Canut (Cnut the Great) of Denmark, Norway, England, and parts of Sweden who ruled shortly before the Norman Invasion destroyed most of pre-1066 history.  Cnut’s invasion of England was complete by 1016.  By 1027, Cnut ruled the rest of those northern Norse men territories.  Within a few years of his death in 1035, Edward the Confessor reigned, setting the stage for William the Conqueror thereafter.  The apocryphal story has variations, of course.  Supposedly King Cnut once placed his throne on the shore, tired of his sycophantic court, and commanded the waves to part and not wash upon his throne or his robes to demonstrate his true power (and mock his courtiers who believed the waves would heed him).  Of course the waves did not honor his request and lapped around him.  Some accounts, such as Henry of Huntingdon’s, declare Cnut then placed his crown on a crucifix and gave the glory to the God of the Bible as the deity whom the natural world obeys.  Gabriel’s version here does not have that sort of climax, but it does relate a similar story as a whole.

Gabriel personifies the natural setting, and the musical accompaniment at the beginning is as mellifluous as anything Genesis ever did, opening with one of the most evocative opening lines in their canon: “The scattered pages of a book by the sea, / Held by the sand washed by the waves.”  No more mention is given of what this book was, though it may be fair to assume it is a book about King Cnut.  “A shadow forms cast by a cloud, / Skimming by as eyes of the past, but the rising tide / Absorbs them effortlessly claiming.”  The clouds as “eyes of the past” is a wonderful image, one of Gabriel’s best metaphors.  As the verse continues, the shifting vocalizations and musicality increase as the tide and Cnut’s disappointment swell, leading into one of the most dynamic musical interludes not just of the album but in Gabriel’s entire tenure.  Referring to Cnut as “Can-Utility” is impressively ironic again, since the entire story is about what Cnut could not do, though he was desperate for useful followers and worshippers, not mindless flatterers.  The story follows the climax of Cnut’s experiment, as Hackett and Rutherford’s contributions mimic the waves and Cnut’s emotions.  From reaction to worshipful declarations, the diversity in this song is most impressive.  Instead of the Christian conclusion though (as can be supposed), Gabriel ends with a mysterious tag: “See a little man with his face turning red / Though his story’s often told you can tell he’s dead.”  Much like “Time Table,” “Can-Utility and the Coastliners” (the Coastliners are most likely the unheeded flatterers who resemble fox hunters/hounds on the cover) reminds us of the passage of time during which the power and reigns of even the mightiest and proudest rulers will eventually conquer mortal rulers, no matter how often their stories are told (or re-imagined, as Genesis does here).

“Horizons”

Little needs be said about possibly the most beautiful song of Genesis’s career.  Though the re-mastered cd release calls “Horizon’s,” the title has no apostrophe.  Steve Hackett’s masterful work is a marvelous prelude to the epic “Supper’s Ready,” making the B-side of Foxtrot probably the best B-side in the history of music recording.  It has been noted that Hackett begins with the central theme from Bach’s cello Suite No. 1 in G Major, but he soon progresses to his own baroque-influenced song.  Like all the great soft Genesis numbers, one is almost left with the impression that it is too short, that there should be more song, but that, of course, misses the point entirely.  It is a precisely-structured musical expression of the soul in a beautiful world — any more would be over-indulgence to the point of aural gluttony.  We must re-train ourselves to appreciate and enjoy what is there and ask for no more.

“Supper’s Ready”

Oh, boy.  Time for the great supernatural epic, one of the top-tier songs that defines Genesis’s career (by those aware of the Gabriel era, that is).  Various accounts credit very bizarre sources for the inspiration of this mighty work (many of which do not have the same tone and direction that the song itself has), and the reader can seek those out at his leisure.  Gabriel’s intro of the song in concert gives it a different context as well.  At the outset of this series I indicated we were going to focus solely (as much as possible) on the lyrics and music of the songs themselves — admittedly, though, we have used some liner note stories and other historical references to explain some of the allusions where appropriate, and we will need to do a bit more of that here.  As for The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway next issue…well, we’ll cross that bear when we get to it.  Though we won’t utilize all the interviews and dvd bonus material available for simplicity’s sake, we will use quotations from the 1972-73 concert tour handout that explains (in typical covert Gabriel fashion) the story.  The nearly twenty-three-minute musical epic is divided into seven sections, in a variation of the sonata form.

I. Lover’s Leap

The opening scene of the magnum opus is a calm, quiet evening in a British home of two typical British young lovers (since the episodes that influenced the writing of this song were from Gabriel’s wife, we shall call the main characters a married couple, one woman and one man).  The simple melody and restrained accompaniment hearken back to the folk days of Trespass.  The couple seems to be newly reunited (“I’ve been so far from here, / Far from your warm arms. / It’s good to feel you again, / It’s been a long, long time.  Hasn’t it?”), but it could also (or instead) be a metaphorical separation that is being bridged.  The song opens with the male narrator turning off the television and looking into his wife’s eyes, perhaps for the first time in quite a while, thus necessitating the repeated encouraging line, “Hey my baby, don’t you know our love is true.”  Outside this familial scene the supernatural is coming to life: “Out in the garden, the moon seems very bright, / Six saintly shrouded men move across the lawn slowly. / The seventh walks in front with a cross held high in hand.”  Additionally, the wife is also going through supernatural transitions: “I swear I saw your face change, it didn’t seem quite right.”  The mystical work outside completes the transformation of the couple inside.  The guide summarizes this quiet scene of transformation nicely: “In which two lovers are lost in each other’s eyes, and found again transformed in the bodies of another male and female.”

II. The Guaranteed Eternal Sanctuary Man

“The lovers come across a town dominated by two characters; one a benevolent farmer and the other the head of a highly disciplined scientific religion.  The latter likes to be known as ‘The Guaranteed Eternal Sanctuary Man’ and claims to contain a new secret ingredient capable of fighting fire.  This is a falsehood, an untruth, a whopper and a taradiddle, or to put it in clearer terms, a lie,” says the guide.  The melodic line of this section is recalled at the climax of the song in part seven, though the lyrics there are much more Biblical and life-affirming than the lyrics are here.  The pacing and melody of the sounds in this section, though, are great.  The challenge of this section is to discern whether Gabriel is satirizing (a gentle word for it) Jesus and Christianity (since he wore a crown of thorns during this portion of the song for some live performances); though Gabriel is not an overt Christian, I posit that he is not denigrating Christianity itself but the materialistic, “scientific” versions of it (such as televangelists and others of that ilk), primarily because of the biological science references.  I hope I am not being credulous.

I don’t know if anything should be made of another farmer reference, though it is interesting that Genesis often speaks of farmers (“Seven Stones” from Nursery Cryme, “The Chamber of 32 Doors” from The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway, among others).  The farmer doesn’t seem to have much to do in this section of the song, though; after the brief mention of his skill and concern for his task caring for the natural world (in a Chaucer-like description), the focus shifts entirely to the GESM.  I have no knowledge if Gabriel has read Fahrenheit 451, but it is clever that his fireman, the GESM, “looks after the fire” and doesn’t put out fires.  The guide, quoted above, intimates the secret ingredient to fight fire is some sort of salvation, if the fire is the eternal fires of damnation from the Lake of Fire.  This might contradict my earlier position that the GESM is not an attack on Jesus, but I don’t think it does.  We know that Jesus does not provide falsehoods, untruths, whoppers, and lies about the afterlife — even if the GESM is an attack on the Bible, Gabriel would be wrong, and there would be no need to be concerned, provided we then explained this misconception rationally and thoroughly.  If the GESM is just a type of false gospel promoter, Gabriel is thoroughly correct that the technological, scientific “secret” is “a lie.”

The quiet chorus after the final lyrical and musical climax of this section is difficult to understand: “We will rock you, rock you little snake, / We will keep you snug and warm.”  The quietude of the conclusion transforms into a flute recapitulation of the “Lover’s Leap” melody.  This in turn prepares the way for the third section of the work.

III. Ikhnaton and Itsacon (Its-a-con) and Their Band of Merry Men

“Who the lovers see clad in greys and purples, awaiting to be summoned out of the ground.  At the GESM’s command they put forth from the bowels of the earth, to attack all those without an up-to-date ‘Eternal Life License,’ which were obtainable at the head office of the GESM’s religion,” according to the guide.  Ikhnaton is none other than Akhenaten, the Egyptian pharaoh and husband of Nefertiti, whose “Great Hymn to the Aten” we read in 10th grade.  The GESM conjures him and Its-a-con (furthering the song’s antipathy toward false religion and pseudo-scientific-intellectualism) and a mighty battle rages, as evidenced by the faster pace, louder percussion, and interaction and interplay of Tony Banks’s organ and Steve Hackett’s guitar.  The arpeggiated musical break is one of the musical highlights of the entire album (and Genesis canon).

The verses of this section further the song’s satiric approach to such a diversity of subject matter, this time war.  “Wearing feelings on our faces while our faces took a rest, / We walked across the fields to see the children of the West, / We saw a host of dark skinned warriors standing still below the ground, / Waiting for battle.”  I’ll admit I don’t know who the “children of the West” are, nor do I fully comprehend what “wearing feelings on our faces while our faces took a rest” means, though I suspect it also connects to the attacks on hypocrisy throughout the number.  Reminiscent of most battle songs from Genesis (“The Knife,” especially), Gabriel points out the paradox of war: “Killing foe for peace… / Today’s a day to celebrate, the foe have met their fate.”  Like Homer, though more acerbic, Gabriel reminds us that “war, no matter how much we may enjoy it, is no strawberry festival.”  The admixture of war satire with religion satire (“And even though I’m feeling good, / Something tells me, I’d better activate my prayer capsule”) makes the mostly music-driven section lyrically full.  Once the battle is over, the momentum is rapidly lost, and the section virtually slams to a halt, despite the final line, “The order for rejoicing and dancing has come from our warlord.”  (I’m pretty sure the live performances change it to “from Avalon,” but I could be wrong.)  The rejoicing and dancing do not appear.

IV. How Dare I Be so Beautiful?

The battle is over and only chaos is left, chaos and Narcissus.  “We climb up the mountain of human flesh, / To a plateau of green grass, and green trees full of life.”  The transformed couple climbs a mountain of war-struck corpses to find Narcissus admiring his beauty in a pool in a forest sitting by the pool.  Suddenly “He’s been stamped ‘Human Bacon’ by some butchery tool. / (He is you) / Social Security took care of this lad.”  This brief interlude of a number hearkens back to the ambiguous lyrics of From Genesis to Revelation, which is ironic since the phrase “How dare I be so beautiful” was a favorite expression of the band’s manager at the time, Jonathan King.  The connection of the “Human Bacon” stamp on Narcissus is most likely a reference to the battle carnage over which the couple has just ascended, since the “he is you” line furthers the representational nature of the previous section.  It is rather nice that the government took care of its fallen soldiers through social security, though the sparse musical accompaniment of this section belies the sincerity of the words.  It is a remarkably quiet section, but it is appropriate as the aftermath of such a battle.  Similarly appropriate with the music is the couple’s quite reverent non-participation (only as observers) of the transformation of Narcissus into a flower, according to Ovid’s version of the myth.  Like Narcissus (especially in variations on the myth), the couple are pulled down into the pool and the inane world of Willow Farm, resulting in a drastic shift from the direction of the song thus far.

V. Willow Farm

“Willow Farm” was a separate song worked in to “Supper’s Ready,” helping to distinguish it from other lengthy, unified narratives such as “Stagnation,” according to Tony Banks.  This portion of the number gave us one of Gabriel’s most iconic moments during live performances: the flower mask.  Lyrically, the song is diverse and often called Python-esque for its verbal wordplay (though it may be more Sellers-esque, if not Goon Show/Beyond the Fringe-esque).  The couple has by now climbed out of the pool into a different existence, an unusual world that makes Wonderland seem like the Reform Club.

The opening section has the feel of being welcomed by Kaa the python into his lair — Gabriel’s voice has all the unctuous charm of impending doom for the listener.  It is from this section we get a rare reference to a fox (“Like the fox on the rocks”), though the fox is not trotting, nor is it wearing a red dress like the fox on the Paul Whitehead cover of the album (Gabriel would sometimes wear a fox head and red dress during some Foxtrot song performances in concert).  Perhaps the narrator is a Reynard the Fox character, since the fox reappears again in the next section of the song.  The verbal rigmarole includes political commentary (“There’s Winston Churchill dressed in drag, / He used to be a British flag, plastic bag, what a drag”) and fable references (“The frog was a prince, the prince was a brick, the brick was an egg, and the egg was a bird / Hadn’t you heard?”).  Gabriel even includes a sly self-reference to “the musical box.”  Suddenly, a whistle blows, diverse sound effects occur, and the garden/woodland scene transforms into a typical British daily life tableau reminiscent of “Harold the Barrel.”  The verbal flummery continues (“Mum to mud to mad to dad / Dad diddley office, Dad diddley office, / You’re all full of ball / Dad to dam to dum to mum / Mum diddley washing, Mum diddley washing / You’re all full of ball”), based more in the sounds of the words than in their denotative sense (perhaps precursoring A Bit of Fry and Laurie — the British love their intelligent, verbal humor, and their non-intelligible verbal humor, that’s for sure).  Gabriel’s original narrative voice (mixing Grima Wormtongue with Uriah Heep) returns for the final few lines, and the menace grows until, just like the sudden climax before, the whistle blows again and the scene transforms: “You’ve been here all the time, / Like it or not, like what you got, / You’re under the soil, / Yes deep in the soil. / So we’ll end with a whistle and end with a bang / And all of us back in our places.”

VI. Apocalypse in 9/8 (Co-starring the Delicious Talents of Gabble Ratchet)

Unlike the peaceful follow-up to the abrupt end of “Ikhnaton and Itsacon,” the musical interlude between sections five and six does not fit with any previously-heard musical motifs, and its ominous timbre is not encouraging.  Instead of “Gabble Ratchet,” the guide indicates the co-stars are wild geese, a version of the “hounds of Hell.”  The ominous interlude quickly transmogrifies into a full diabolical performance as the rhythm section beats out a disjointing 9/8 rhythm.  Gabriel dons a geometrical headdress for a Magog costume, and the apocalypse is upon us.

“At one whistle the lovers become seeds in the soil, where they recognize other seeds to be people from the world in which they had originated.  While they wait for Spring, they are returned to their old world to see Apocalypse of St. John in full progress.  The seven trumpeteers cause a sensation, the fox keeps throwing sixes, and Pythagoras (a Greek extra) is deliriously happy as he manages to put exactly the right amount of milk and honey on his corn flakes,” says the guide, which actually makes matters worse in its obfuscatory George S. Kauffman-era Marx Brothers style.  We have traveled from seven shrouded saintly men from the garden to seven trumpeteers “blowing sweet rock and roll.”  The apocalyptic language is a mixture of Revelation, folktale, myth, and William Blake, both here and in the final section.  The musical variations during this section are more grinding and fretful than enjoyable, which is appropriate after a fashion for an apocalyptic climax (Tony Banks has commented that his organ solo was a parody of Emerson, Lake, and Palmer).  Couched within the diabolical imagery is the essential warning of the song: “You can tell he’s (the Dragon, Satan) doing well, by the look in human eyes. / You better not compromise. / It won’t be easy.”  The relevancy of Gabriel’s warning is even more relevant in the soul-siphoning digital age than it was during the uncertainties of the 1970s.

As Pythagoras writes out the lyrics to a new tune in blood (it’s doubtful Gabriel is equating geometric equations with the apocalypse, but he could be), the diabolical rhythms draw to a close, and we (and the couple) are saved from a disastrous fate as the opening melody from “Lover’s Leap” returns.  As Dante’s successful navigation through the Underworld resulted in his restoration to Love and Truth, so, too, does our heroic couple’s journey restore their love.  In a declaration reminiscent of Donne’s classic “Valediction: Forbidding Mourning,” the journey has only strengthened their union: “And it’s hey babe, with your guardian eyes so blue, / Hey my baby, don’t you know our love is true, / I’ve been so far from here, / Far from your loving arms, / Now I’m back again, and babe it’s going to work out fine.”

VII. As Sure as Eggs is Eggs (Aching Men’s Feet)

The “Lover’s Leap” motif transforms directly into “The Guaranteed Eternal Sanctuary Man” motif, but the lyrics are much more uplifting than before.  Though there are some elements of William Blake in there, the feeling the song evokes is pure Biblical catharsis.  This is as great an ending to an epic as any out there in any medium.  “Above all else, an egg is an egg,” says the guide.  In pure British simplicity, the self-evidence of the conclusion both discards the symbolic language of the entire song and allows us to believe exactly what the words are saying, at face value.  In simple logic, the tautology of the section title reminds us “as sure as eggs is eggs,” good will conquer evil, God will conquer Magog and the Dragon, and light will conquer darkness.  (The “aching men’s feet” line is probably just another admission that the journey is done, the album is over, and the band is tired out again.)  This is a great song, with an ending that puts to shame most (if not all) contemporary “Christian” music that gives us a pale, shoddy version of the glories of the life to come.  As Phil Collins presses his climactic snare roll, Gabriel sheds his Magog costume for an angelic white costume declaring the victory of goodness over evil. “Jerusalem,” says the guide, “= place of peace.”  What else is needed?  Now we know what the title of the song means: the armies of the Dragon are defeated, and the angel (in Revelation 19:17) invites the birds to feast on the flesh of the wicked.  Supper’s ready not just because the lovers are reunited, and not just because He has prepared the victory feast of His enemies, but more importantly because the Messiah (the Mighty One) has returned to prepare His marriage feast with His Bride, the Church.

Gabriel’s voice is as epic as it gets here.  “Can’t you feel our souls ignite / Shedding ever changing colors, in the darkness of the fading night, / Like the river joins the ocean, as the germ in the seed grows / We have finally been freed to get back home. / There’s an angel standing in the sun, and he’s crying with a loud voice, / ‘This is the supper of the mighty one,’ / Lord of Lords, / King of Kings, / Has returned to lead His children home, / To take them to the new Jerusalem.”  Now that’s a song.

“Now I’m Back Again, and Babe It’s Going to Work Out Fine”

By this point, the greatness of Genesis, especially in the Peter Gabriel era, should be evident to all.  They were diverse and talented lyrically and musically.  They told stories of apocalyptic battles and ballads of couples enjoying life and love.  Their melodies and harmonies, vocally and instrumentally, can still surpass just about anything today.  Their reputation commercially and in concert after the release of Foxtrot was no longer a well-kept secret.  Foxtrot was their first album to break the top 20 in England, and most of these songs became staples of their concerts for years to come.  Foxtrot is a great album from the first mighty chords of Tony Banks’s mellotron of “Watcher of the Skies” to Peter Gabriel’s worshipful exultations at the cathartic conclusion of “Supper’s Ready.”  Listening to Foxtrot is a great experience that should be enjoyed again and again.  Even for those who doubt the greatness of Nursery Cryme, Foxtrot is an uncontestable work of genius, cementing the greatness of Genesis.

Procrastination

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Emily Grant Privett

Procrastination is an inescapable force that we all suffer from at one point or another.  I cannot think of anyone who has not put something off until later.  Putting off something, big or small, is a common human action.  A common excuse is that “I will feel like doing it more later” or “I work best under pressure.”  But sadly, these things aren’t really true.  No one feels more inclined to do their work the next day.  Working under pressure just leaves less time for proofreading and the ability to improve one’s writing.  The fact is that procrastinators lie to themselves.

There are different types of procrastinators.  Some people like the rush of working under pressure.  They find it difficult to work without that urge to finish their assignment.  Working under this pressure is what drives their desire to finish the assignment.  It is almost seen as a challenge to them to finish their work.

Another type of procrastinator is one who avoids their project.  Often, people avoid assignments because they are afraid of failure, and in some cases, success.  These sorts of people are very concerned with what other people think of them.  They don’t want to create something that could cause disapproval from others, so they avoid the problem altogether.  They would rather have people think that they lack the effort to accomplish their job than to lack the ability.

The final type of procrastinator is the sort that cannot make a decision.  They cannot make a decision, meaning they are not responsible for the outcome of the events.  They put off making a decision until the very last minute, having then to react in a hasty way.  For example, when thinking of a topic for this article, I was at a loss.  I had no idea what I wanted to write on.  I was unable to make a decision about what to write. Because of this, I put off the writing of this very article.  Until analyzing my own actions, I was acting within this sort of procrastination.

Now that I have defined the different sorts of procrastinators, it is time to explain how procrastination affects people’s lives.  Twenty percent of all people identify themselves as chronic procrastinators.  Procrastination has consumed their life.  It has become their lifestyle.  From not paying bills on time, to waiting until Christmas Eve to buy Christmas presents, these people are greatly affected by their life choices.  Whether one likes to believe it or not, procrastination is not a problem of time management.  Everyone has the same ability to manage their time, but it is whether they chose to manage their time well that is the issue.  Procrastinators are merely more optimistic than others.  We don’t bother to stop what we are doing at the time.  We block the commitments we have on our minds, only to be bothered with them later.

Another problem that procrastinators have is finding common distractions.  These distractions don’t require a lot of commitment on their part, nor do they require a lot of effort.  Personally, Facebook is a common distraction, as it is currently up in another window.  Another common distraction is checking one’s e-mail, as that is up in another window as well.  Any simple thing that can be used to avoid one’s commitments is a worthy distraction used by procrastinators.

Procrastination is capable of destroying relationships in the workplace as well as private relationships.  When dealing with people who don’t do their share of the work until the very last minute, stresses rise.  Tension between group members or team members easily rises.  It takes its toll on the others around one because it shifts the procrastinator’s responsibility on the other.  Avoiding one’s problem is the same as avoiding one’s responsibility.  This is another cause of excess stress between one’s communities.

Finally, procrastination has been proven to affect one’s heath.  During one academic year, it has been proven that procrastinating college students have more compromised immune systems.  It has been shown these students are more likely to get colds and the flu when suffering from procrastination.  Another common health issue is insomnia.  As William James said, “nothing is so fatiguing as the eternal hanging on of an uncompleted task.”  Especially with students, sufficient sleep is extremely important.  With procrastination comes stress.  With stress comes sickness and insomnia.  These two factors lead to a rather unhealthy lifestyle.

Sadly, as a whole, we do not take this problem as seriously as it should be taken.  We see it as a problem, but we don’t do anything to work against it.  Often times, excuses are accepted because procrastination has become such a common problem.  Such a simple problem is often responsible for stress-related problems like the destroying of social and private relationships, as well as health issues.  It’s a shame that such a problem nearly everyone deals with is so accepted.

From the person sitting next to you in Bible and English class, to the struggle you personally have, procrastination is all around us.  I’m not one to say procrastination is wrong and everyone who procrastinates is a terrible person, because that would make me hypocritical, as this very article is the work of a procrastinator.  I am saying though, that procrastination is a common, difficult problem to overcome.  Procrastination steals time away from us.  Whether willing to admit it or not, everyone suffers from procrastination at one point in their life.  Procrastination is something worthy of overcoming, but I’ll work on that later.

Final Fantasy VI

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Christopher Rush

Those Were the Days

Final Fantasy VI is the best RPG (role-playing game) of all time.  This makes it the best video game of all time.  I understand the FPS, MMORPG, Sims, Mario, Link, and Kratos fans will disagree, but reality is what it is — no use arguing.  I enjoy Mario Bros., Legend of Zelda, and God of War games as much if not better than most people.  I enjoy the nonlinear form of Myst and SimTower.  I have spent hours of delight playing Return to Zork, The Oregon Trail, Number Munchers (most MECC games — those were the days), Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego? (where did you go Brøderbund?), Pac-Man, Ultima Underworld, Wing Commander II, Indiana Jones and the Fate of Atlantis, Galaga, Maniac Mansion, TIE Fighter, Conquests of the Longbow, King’s Quest V (Activision and Sierra…you are much missed), D/Generation, Heroes of Might and Magic, NCAA Football 2003, Tetris, NES Golf, BattleToads, Mega Man, Metroid, Double Dragon, and many more.  And you thought I just watched tv all day.  We barely even mentioned the golden arcade days.  Before that were memorable years of Texas Instrument games you’ve never heard of, many of which are superior to the games being made today.  Those were golden days, when the small bit size required compelling storylines and creative gameplay to make a game — not fancy graphics and nonsensical button-mashing combinations.  Though I have and still do enjoy these great games from days of old (and the occasional newer games such as the Assassin’s Creed and Uncharted series), the RPG is the superior game genre, and Final Fantasy VI is the best of them.

Declaring something “the best” is a bold move — one that lends itself readily to ridicule and contumely.  One could easily make an argument for the “milestones” of computer/video games as the best or most important: Pong, Space Invaders, Pitfall, Asteroids, Donkey Kong, Paperboy, Dragon Warrior, Street Fighter II, Mortal Kombat, Shadow of the Colossus, and Tomb Raider (to name a few).  Those games, while influential and important for the history and development of the gaming industry, are sometimes considered good mainly for sentimental reasons.  There’s nothing wrong with sentimentality, especially when given to the right things for the right reasons, but when considering the “best” video game ever, more than nostalgia and influence are important for such a declaration.  The best has to be intrinsically worthwhile and enjoyable.  Part of the problem is that sometimes people are limited to a platform or two: computer gamers often favor their computer platform over console games and platforms.  Nintendo users don’t talk to PlayStation users.  Neither of them associates with Xbox users.  This may have been more of an issue in the late ’90s and early ’00s.  Nor does this include any of the handheld consoles.  Personal experiences often inform (a nice way of saying “bias” or “taint”) our favorites: when Dragon Warrior came in the mail, my brother and I held it aloft and made a slow, majestic procession from the living room, down the stairs, and to the family room where the NES was.  Playing Dragon Warrior was a life-changing experience that helped solidify the superiority of RPGs: “A slime draws near!  Command?”  I have killed a few Metal Slimes in my day, I don’t mind telling you.  Dragon Warrior IV is indeed a classic worth playing, in part because it “breaks the mold” of traditional RPGs.  It was better on NES than the DS remake, but if you don’t have a working NES, you have to go with what you’ve got.  The Dragon Warrior (Dragon Quest in Japan) series is older and more popular than the Final Fantasy series in Japan, and Dragon Warrior solidified what turn-based RPGs would become (perhaps forever).  Dragon Quest VIII, recent release for PS2, has helped renew America’s interest in the Dragon Quest series and is worth checking out.  The differences in style takes some getting used to, but it is still an enjoyable game/series (and more humorous than the Final Fantasy series).  A few other enjoyable and worthwhile RPGs (and near-RPGs) include Lagoon, Breath of Fire, EarthBound, Secret of Mana, and Illusion of Gaia.  Each presents a different perspective on the RPG format, and they are all worth playing, for the spiritual questions they raise and the fun they are to play.

Returning to the issue at hand, a handful of games vying for “the best” spring readily to mind (in addition to the games already listed): Super Mario World, Super Mario Kart, Super Metroid, Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past, Mega Man X, God of War, Assassin’s Creed.  Then there are the handful of ultra-elite games: GoldenEye 007, Final Fantasy IV, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy XII, Super Mario 64, Chrono Trigger, and, of course, Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time.  Each of these deserves their own articles, tributes, and lifetimes of play.  I enjoy them all and have played them for years (though not FFVII so much).  Each can make a case for being the best of all time, and I welcome any such response.  As mentioned before, any attempt at making a declaration of “this is the best of its kind” is going to be rather arbitrary.  Unlike Tanner’s impressively thorough defense of Battlefield: Bad Company 2, this defense of Final Fantasy VI will be less detailed (I won’t list every weapon, piece of armor, spell, and item) with fewer categories.  Even so, though this is designed to be a defense of Final Fantasy VI as the best video game ever, if you are prompted to play the game for yourself or at least think about it and try any RPG for yourself, then this article will be a success.

III = VI

There are so many “final” fantasies because they all take place on different worlds.  The original Final Fantasy for NES was an Americanized version of the Japanese Final Fantasy.  As mentioned above, it drew heavily from Dragon Warrior/Quest and established much of the menu-based design of the series.  The Japanese Final Fantasy II did not come to America until the recent PlayStation, Game Boy Advance, and PlayStation Portable ports.  It added now-classic elements to the series such as Cid and chocobos.  Likewise, the Japanese Final Fantasy III was not available outside of Japan until the DS remake in 2006.  Like many DS remakes, it modifies some of the original elements (including the obvious 3D graphic renderings), adding side quests and other tidbits.  Final Fantasy IV came to America as Final Fantasy II on the SNES, which made for some confusion in the ’90s and ’00s, though most of that should be dispelled by now.  Some RPG fans claim FFIV is better than VI.  It has many elements in its favor: 5 characters in the party (sometimes 4, though 3 is more frequent in the later installations); the Active Time Battle system replaces the turn-based system, so players have to pay attention and act with more haste and decision; an impressive variety of locations, including an underground world and even trips to the moon; a diverse set of characters with set character classes, unlike most of the other early FF games.  FFIV is a very deep game, with impressive character conflicts and emotional (and believable) ebbs and flows throughout the game.  Attributes raise at set levels, unlike the DS remake, which adds the nonsensical Augments aspect (with some other unfortunate “tweaks” and the very fortunate Chrono Trigger-like “New Game Plus” feature).  The story is deep, the characters are real, and the developments that occur keep the game interesting throughout (especially the SNES version without the Augments nonsense).  Final Fantasy V stayed in Japan until the PlayStation and GBA ports in America.  It returns to the structure of FFIII with character class changes and tweaks the ATB system by adding the gauge feature, allowing the player to know which character’s turn is coming next.  Final Fantasy VI was released in America on the SNES as Final Fantasy III, which made the next American release, Final Fantasy VII on the new PlayStation console, give some of us youths at the time the feeling we had missed something — what we missed was not being Japanese.  I really think so.

Final Fantasy VII is considered by many to be the best in the FF series.  I’m not sure why, but I have some suspicions: being the first FF game on PlayStation’s cd platform allowed the introduction of 3D computer graphics and backgrounds (what Super Mario 64 did for the Mario franchise, but on an even more “advanced” scale); VII was the first FF game released in Europe; VII’s setting is a futuristic dystopian world, unlike the usual medieval (with airships) setting of I-V; it has one of the most (if not the most) shocking moments in video game history (but I don’t want to spoil it for you if you don’t know what I’m talking about — and if you don’t, welcome to video games).  VIII is similarly well-regarded, thanks to VII’s solidification of the PS1 and realistic character renderings, but it changes a number of the usual FF elements that not all players would enjoy (no MPs? really?).  IX returns the series to its roots with more comically-drawn characters, a medieval setting, and character class settings (VII and VIII have more character customizability, if you like that sort of thing).  Overall, IX is generally easier and more user-friendly than VII and VIII, and it is more of a nostalgic homage to Final Fantasy’s own roots (almost like a flashback episode of your favorite tv show).

The series entered the current millennium with X on the new PlayStation 2.  Ahh, FFX: we had such high hopes for you, and how did you repay us? a 3-character team and…blitzball.  Our very own Danny Bogert said it best when he said blitzball is like soccer plus calculus minus fun (I avoid quotations marks because I paraphrase from memory here).  The voice acting and cut-scenes are great and cinematic — but that’s not what the Final Fantasy series is built upon.  The graphics are impressive with the replacement of the pre-rendered backgrounds to full 3D areas.  The ATB system is replaced by the interesting Conditional Turn-Based system.  It’s possibly better than the ATB since it allows one to strategize without the time-pressure of the ATB and allows the player to make long-term character battle decisions, which is especially helpful in boss fights.  The old “bird’s-eye view” world map and town/dungeon maps are replaced by a fairly smooth, continuous, to scale world map, making the size of the world and your experience of it more realistic.  Perhaps the cleverest change to the series comes in the Sphere Grid, a predetermined network of upgrade nodules that allows the player to decide what improvements to give to each character when leveling up.  At times the Sphere Grid is a different and fun way to play a Final Fantasy game, since instead of predetermined levels of learning spells and gaining new techniques or attributes as in the early games, you, the player, get to decide how to develop each character.  This allows for great re-play potential, as you can change the characters away from their intended function (such as turning Yuna the spell caster into a strong fighter).  At times, though, one doesn’t want to strategize too much and just wants to raise levels the old fashioned, preprogrammed way, so one must be aware of that going into FFX (and … blitzball).  The story is great and complex: in effect you are accompanying your old friend on a pilgrimage so she can learn what she needs to sacrifice herself to stop the main adversary, Sin (it’s not what you think).  The diverse characters are good, but not as great as other characters in other games in the series, in part because one gets the feeling they are trying to be too diverse — try to picture Barney Miller occurring in the late ’90s on Lifetime.  X is the first in the series to get a direct sequel, X-2; while X-2 resolves some of the plot/character issues from the end of X, it is sort of a “Girls, we want you to play RPGs, so here is a game with 3 female characters who wear different dresses that help them raise levels and learn abilities” kind of game — I’m not saying it’s bad, just bit of a let down (as many sequels tend to be).  X-2 has multiple endings and options depending on the choices made during the game, which could be the only reason to play it more than once.  FFX showed us what the PS2 was capable of (just like FFVII did for the PS1), in time for God of War I and II to fulfill PS2’s potential and herald the PS3.

FFXI and XIV are MMORPGs, and thus are fit only for players that like that sort of thing; many consider XIV a big disappointment.  Considering they were released in Japan before released in America and Europe, new gamers had to contend with Japanese players that were already far more powerful and advanced.  I don’t understand why people would want to buy a game then continue to pay monthly fees to keep playing the game, especially when the world around you continues to advance whether you play it or not, forcing your commitment to be rather intense.

FFXII has an even stronger case to make than FFIV for the best game of all time (though VI still is superior).  XII takes the advancements of X on the PS2 to the platform’s pinnacle (though the first two God of War games may have done that as well, as mentioned above, depending on one’s perspective — perhaps they both do so, for their different genres).  XII, Stars Wars meets Ancient Rome, is a winning combination of standard FF elements and new developments that make it far more enjoyable than the differences in X.  The only drawback is the 3-character battle party, though some may dislike the fair amount of back-and-forth travel, especially when playing the many side quests available.  Magic points are now Mist points, which renew gradually as the characters move around.  Instead of getting gold from defeating enemies, conquered foes drop items for players to sell in shops, further expanding the layers and complexity (in a good way) of the game.  Random battle encounters are replaced by visible encounters on the world map (much like Chrono Trigger), to be avoided when desired (but you can’t raise levels without battling).  Again the battle structure is changed with the addition of “gambits,” programmable responses for each character to make battles more fluid (though this is an optional element; old-time gamers can still manually input each command).  Since most battles take place in the open world, there is no longer a transition to a battle screen, which means the classic “victory theme song” is only heard after major boss battles (not such a bad change).  Another change to character level raising is the addition of the license board — similar to the sphere grid of X, but more enjoyable (though the choices of who gets which Esper can be tricky).  Like X, each character can get every level-up attribute, provided you earn enough experience points.  The world of XII is vast and impressive, and the side-quests (especially the hunts) make it worth travelling over again and again.  Other changes, such as the quickenings, must be experienced to be understood and appreciated.  If one cannot get a hold of FFVI, FFXII is the way to go (though IV should be played as well).  It was worth the 5-year wait after X.

XIII brought Final Fantasy to the current generation platforms, including the Xbox 360, which was a big surprise to many of us.  I admit that I haven’t played it yet, so I can’t say too much about it.  I hear good things about it, and I hear not so good things about it.  It has apparently tinkered with the battle components yet again, with a new combination of AI support characters and a modified return to the ATB.  The character leveling system sounds like a modified sphere grid from X, with emphasis on crystals (one of the foundational elements to the series).  I am certainly willing to play it, especially now that the price has gone down considerably, but I am hesitant to think it rivals XII or VI.

Now that we have surveyed (in an admittedly superficial and cursory way nowhere near the extent to which the series deserves) the diverse and mostly wonderful worlds (as far as gaming enjoyment — you certainly wouldn’t want to live any of these places) of the Final Fantasy series, how could it be possible to single out one specific game among so many similar titles as the best video game ever, especially on a platform that stopped production before most of you whippersnappers were even born?  Let’s find out.  (And I mean “whippersnappers” in as nice a way as possible.)

Gameplay

The end of the fourth generation of video game consoles in the early ’90s was an important turning point in the history of electronic gaming.  In a way, the end of the 16-bit era was the end of the “golden age” (Nolan Bushnell might disagree).  Other than the N64, the cartridge era was over, and 3D renderings and polygons took center stage (which is ironic, considering Nintendo declared 1994 “The Year of the Cartridge”).  By April 1994, the NES had released all but its last game, the Entertainment Software Rating Board was created to change the nature of gaming advertising forever, and two of the best games of all time (one the best) had arrived: Super Metroid and Final Fantasy VI (to us it was III).

Though we ruled out “influence” as a factor in calling a video game “the best,” it is not hypocritical to emphasize Final Fantasy VI’s place in video game history to better understand its gameplay.  Super Metroid uses 24-bits instead of the usual 16, and Chrono Trigger in 1995 uses 32-bits.  That extra advantage is often overlooked when people rank them higher than FFVI.  VI maxes out the 16-bit system using the SNES Mode 7 graphics.  What that means is FFVI has an early 3D look to a lot of its graphics, such as the world map and airship flights.  The fight scenes are more active than FFIV, but obviously nothing like later installments on more advanced systems.  Gameplay aspects that help VI stand out are the four-person combat team, the unique special ability each character can implement during combat, the customization elements (relics and magicite), and the diversity of gameplay itself.

The four-person combat team is the ideal size for combat teams.  Though five in IV is nice, it does get cumbersome (and adds to the difficulty of the game, not to imply that VI is a cake walk).  Three-person combat teams are just silly.  This is most evident in X, with the open field combat world: the “realism” of the game is tainted if your 3-person team is wiped out by a berserk Malboro and eight characters just stand there watching while your game suddenly ends.  (Dragon Warrior/Quest IV doesn’t have this problem, as the other characters can jump in to replace the dead characters — very helpful.)  XII has 3-person combat teams, but the game is so fun it overrides that flaw (thanks, in part, to the quickenings, when those are finally mastered).  What makes the four-person combat team in VI so good is that before too long into the game, once all the characters are gathered, the player can decide who is in the group.  Various stages in the game require formation of multiple groups, and the player controls, at times, who is in each party.  Unlike the linear narrative demands of IV, the player eventually has control of 14 different characters to play with throughout the game.  Thus, the variety and number of characters are key aspects of what makes VI the best.  Each of these fourteen characters has a unique skill or ability that can be used in combat, either as a substitute for a regular attack or as a substitute for some other combat-related element (many times these special skills are more helpful than just regular attacks, but it depends on the character, setting, and position in the game — requiring some skill on the player’s part).

In addition to the usual four-fold equipment (right hand/weapon, left hand/shield, head/helmet, body/armor) that modifies character attributes and levels, VI gives most characters the ability to equip up to 2 relics: rare(ish) objects that give different abilities; some are character-specific, others are attribute bonuses.  Some of the better relics cast permanent spells on characters that save a great deal of time and MP during combat, especially later in the game.  What makes this so great is that these relics and their attribute bonuses are in addition to the generic attribute bonuses gained by regular level raising (before the expansive, yet limited nature of the sphere grid and license board systems).  Additionally, the Esper/magicite system is part of the magic casting/eidolon summoning foundation of Final Fantasy, but unlike most earlier and later incarnations in the series, the magicite system allows the 12 main characters (the 2 hidden characters, Gogo and Umaro, are not as controlled by the player as the main 12) to learn every spell.  After battles, characters gain both experience points for regular level/stat raising and ability points to learn spells from their equipped magicite/Esper.  Though only two characters are natural magic users, given enough patience (and ingenuity finding all the magicite), as just mentioned, each character can learn every spell — much more helpful than the static roles of earlier incarnations and the limitations enforced by the sphere grid and license board in X and XII.  This requires a willingness on the player’s part to fight a lot of battles, but such effort and time simply make the later stages of the game that much easier, since the characters’ stats and abilities are that much higher.  Magicite can also be used by every character to summon the Esper that created it, much better than the limitations in later installments as well, foreshadowing the increased role of summoners/Espers/eidolons in later games.

Regardless of its combat and equipage influences, the diversity of gameplay in FFVI cements its gameplay aspect as the best video game of all time.  Like most RPGs, FFVI has a good deal of linear gameplay, true, but as mentioned above VI provides different opportunities to divide the characters into different groups for small portions of the narrative.  Early in the game, the story divides the characters into three story paths (much like the narrative separation of the characters in Ivanhoe, only to re-gather them shortly thereafter for the next major plot point).  The player has the choice in what order he/she wants to play the various paths.  This helps the player get to know the large cast of characters in small groups while advancing the major story.  During the second half of the game, the player has many side-quests to play (or not to play) in order to re-gather the main characters (or not), find major equipment and magicite, raise levels, and other sundry activities.  There’s an auction house for rare items, a coliseum to face rare enemies and upgrade equipment, an airship to explore, and there’s even a kind of fishing event to decide the fate of a character (more pressure than the fishing mini-game in Ocarina of Time).  Certainly the most unusual gameplay aspect of FFVI is the signature event in the game: the opera scene, in which your undercover character has to sing the right lines of the libretto to advance the game and enjoy one of the most poignant scenes in gaming history.  The opera scene is usually everyone’s favorite part of the game (“It is a duel!”), even with the “limitations” of the 16-bit cartridge.  One does not need CGI cut-scenes to sing along with and treasure the genuine pathos of the “Aria di Mezzo Carattere,” unquestionably one of the greatest scenes of all time in the greatest video game of all time.

Setting

FFVI changed our perception of where RPGs can go.  Yes, earlier RPGs in other media went extraterrestrial, subterranean, and even subaqueous; there were historical military RPGs (wargames aren’t really RPGs), Western RPGs, and Superhero RPGs — but American RPG video games were mostly medieval fantasies, often dungeon crawling experiences.  VI breaks that mold.  While retaining the classic sword-and-sorcery RPG elements, FFVI occurs on a world (originally called simply the World of Balance) with a late 18th-century European cultural setting.  Opera, painting, steam technology, railroads, coal mining, and carrier pigeon communications are the order of the day — except in…the Empire.  Unlike most RPGs and fantasy games/stories that accept magic as a regular part of life, magic is a part of the ancient and mythic past when FFVI begins.

1,000 years before the opening credits (yes, it’s one of those stories — the better kind of stories, the in medias res kind), the War of the Magi started to destroy the world.  The Warring Triad (the Demon, the Fiend, and the Goddess) created the World of Balance (and mankind) but soon, fearing each other’s magical powers, started the war.  Their magical energy, amidst the chaos, transformed unwitting humans and animals into Espers, berserk magical beings.  Some humans were magic-infused without becoming Espers.  The parallels to Athena, Aphrodite, and Hera beginning the Trojan War are not accidental.  When the Triad realized what they were doing, they gave the Espers self-control and free will, then encased themselves in stone statues.  The Espers hid them away, keeping the statues in proper balance; magic using humans (Magi) faded into obscurity; and the Espers themselves fled to their own inaccessible realm.  Until…

982 years later, young Madeline stumbles into the Esper world somehow and is rescued by sensitive but masculine Maduin.  They fall in love, marry, and have a child.  2 years pass, and the seal between the worlds is transgressed again, this time by the power-hungry Gestahl, a soldier-scholar who seeks the secrets of the magic of legend.  The Espers banish Gestahl and his soldiers, but not before he captures some Espers; the child is also accidentally expelled, to be raised by Gestahl for his own purposes.  Over the next sixteen years, Gestahl, with access to ancient magic, creates his Empire on the mixture of science and Esper magic, called Magitek.  He is not satisfied, of course, and is desperate to return to the Land of Espers and gain more power.  Somehow, though, he keeps his true plans hidden from even his most trusted generals, except for his right-hand man, Kefka.  Like under most tyrannies, a rebellion forms…

The beginning of the modern world meets the ancient mythic and magical past in FFVI; in the World of Balance, the Fine Arts are as popular as steam and coal technology.  And then, suddenly, half-way through the game, a seal is broken, a continent rises from the sea, and the world is literally destroyed.  How could you not love a game like that?

Characters and Story

For anything to be “the best” of anything in this dark world and wide, it has to say something meaningful about, while trying to eschew banality, the human condition.  Fantasy and science fiction do this better than any other genres.  More so than the unique yet familiar gameplay, the characters are what make the game.  The setting is unique in gaming, the gameplay is unlike any other game, but the characters (and the story they tell) make it the best.  Without giving away too many (more) plot spoilers, we shall survey this large cast of memorable characters as briefly as possible.

Terra, the first character, is a soldier for the Empire tasked with acquiring a recently-found Esper.  It does not go well, and she finds herself thrown in with the underground rebellion known as the Returners.  While Terra is the central character of the overall story, FFVI does such a great job with the largest playable cast in FF history that we tend to forget it’s mostly her story.  Like many great heroes (Achilles, Ivanhoe), Terra disappears for a time, allowing other characters to lead the story along (coupled with the many times the player divides up the characters into little away teams).  She is mainly a magic user.  The next character is Locke, the Han Solo rogue-like treasure hunter with a tragic past who now works for the Returners mainly out of vengeance against the Empire.  He is an all-around character, though it’s easy to make him a very strong physical attacker.  His special “steal” ability is one way to get many rare and valuable items from monsters in battle.  Celes is an Imperial general in exile, rescued by Locke from imminent execution for a treasonous response to Gestahl’s poisoning of Doma Castle (it will make more sense when you play it).  She is a product of Magitek infusion, and her true loyalty is an issue throughout the game.  Celes is the main character in two emotional highlights of the game: the opera scene and the quiet events on Solitary Island.

Two of my favorite characters are the twin brothers Edgar and Sabin, princes of Figaro with no desire to rule.  Years before the game started, Edgar “lost” the coin toss that determined who would take over the Figaro kingdom from their ailing father.  Sabin’s victory enabled him to pursue his destiny as a martial arts expert, leaving Edgar the mechanic to rule Figaro (sort of).  Edgar’s tools, especially the drill and crossbow, are powerful and very fun to use.  Sabin, as can be guessed, is a dominating physical force and most likely a must for your final party at the end of the game (a tough decision in FFVI, since you have control over the characters so much, in contrast to the linear movement of FFIV, among others).  Sabin’s backstory is typical of Japan’s love of warrior monks, but it plays very well in the game.

Cyan, the loyal samurai retainer of the fallen kingdom of Doma, is typical of the “last survivor from the clan” character, while adding an Elizabethan nobility (and dialect) to the game.  FFVI contains a great deal of sacrifice and loss, but it only makes the main characters more heroic and enjoyable.  One possible exception to that is Shadow, the mysterious ninja who is sometimes available for your party and sometimes working for the Empire.  Depending on decisions the player makes in the game, Shadow may or may not be available in the latter half of the game.  Tip: when asked, always wait for him.  He is worth having around.  When you learn his backstory, and his connection to another member of the cast, you’ll be glad you waited for him — especially at the very end of the game.

Gau is a unique character in video game history (his type is watered down as an “energetic boy” in later FF installments).  As an abandoned, feral child, Gau grew up on the Veldt, the home ground of the monsters in the World of Balance.  The scenes of Cyan the Elizabethan samurai and Gau the feral hunter together are highlights of the game, both for humor and heartache.  Setzer is a gambler and owner of the only airship in the world (or is he?).  Setzer is like Gambit from the X-Men, in that his main fighting action is to throw playing cards at the monsters.  Also like Gambit, Setzer is a womanizing scoundrel (less heroic than Locke, at first).  His special technique is a slot machine that can either deal heavy damage to enemies or heal the characters, depending on the success of the player playing the slots.

Strago is a descendent of the Magi living in the secret magic-user town of Thamasa.  Strago can learn magic spells used against the party during combat, which help makes him a valuable magic user at various points in the game.  He is the grandfather of Relm, a young artist and precocious girl.  Her presence in the party later in the game will determine whether Strago will rejoin the cast after the tumultuous events midway through.  Relm can sketch various enemies that magically come to life during combat, being a descendant of magic users.  She is also connected to another character in the game, though I will leave that discovery to the attentive eye of dedicated gamers.  The final main character is Mog, a moogle who can speak English (unlike all the other moogles in the game).  He and Edgar are the only characters that can use the powerful lances in the game, which can make him a strong fighter.  Alternatively, his special dance technique alters the environments of battles and does context-appropriate forms of damage.  He is fun to have around, especially while building up levels of various characters, and it’s always enjoyable to watch his little dances.

Mog is necessary to have in the party to acquire one of the two secret characters, Umaro the yeti.  Mog can speak both languages, apparently, and will convince Umaro to join the party when they encounter him late in the game (though he is spotted and spoken of throughout the game).  Constantly in a berserk state, Umaro is a powerful fighter though uncontrollable by the player.  The other secret character is the most mysterious in the entire game: Gogo.  Gogo’s gender is unknown, his/her motivation for joining the cast in unclear, and his/her general purpose in life is vague.  All that is known is that Gogo is a master of mimicry, and his/her customizability allows the player to have Gogo mimic or use almost all the other characters’ special abilities.  This versatility makes Gogo helpful during specific points of the game, but the player can get along just fine without either secret character.  Completists who want to enjoy the entire gaming experience of the best video game of all time, however, will want to seek them out and recruit them.

The major villains of the story are worth mentioning in passing.  Much has been said of Emperor Gestahl already, who must never be trusted despite certain appearances.  The Cid of FFVI is the chief magitek/Esper researcher of the Empire, who experiences a change of heart (too late, as most heart changes are).  Like with many characters in this game, Cid’s fate is eventually placed in the player’s hands.  The story progresses in any event, but the right decision is to save his life.  Ultros, while not a major villain, is a recurring source of irritation mingled with comic relief.  General Leo is the typical warrior-with-a-conscience, the admirable man of honor caught between the trying circumstances of a tyrannical emperor and the duty of a soldier.  And then there’s Kefka.  Ahh, Kefka.  Kefka must be experienced to be understood — and even then, it’s hard to understand him.  Calling Kefka a nihilistic madman would be unkind to nihilistic madmen.  Nihilistic madmen don’t destroy the entire world.  Kefka does.  He’s not conflicted, or overcoming a troubled past — but he’s not pure, unadulterated evil either.  Kefka is unique in the history of villainy, and, as unpleasant as it might sound, helps make this game so good.

It might sound like the game has too many characters, like it could be confusing or hard to keep track of everyone.  It’s not.  A remarkable aspect of Final Fantasy VI is that even though it has the largest cast in the series, it presents its characters better than any other game in the Final Fantasy series.  The characters are extremely well-developed, even those who don’t appear very long and those who are mysterious (like Shadow).  Because of the diverse narrative and structural episodes, FFVI allows for plenty of time with each character in little groups (much like the development of G.I. Joe characters in pairs or trios).  You get to know these characters very well: their pasts, their frustrations, their failures, their motivations, and their desires for the future.  The great length of the game is as well-developed and moving as any novel, and the characters are a meaningful part of that story.

A fair amount of the basic story has already been intimated in the “setting” section above.  Like most Final Fantasy games, FFVI is basically a ragtag group of rebels struggling against a tyrannical empire (the Star Wars parallels are overt at times, unashamedly so, since Star Wars certainly didn’t invent that kind of story/conflict).  The admixture of the technological revolution with the reemergence of magic and the rediscovery of the Esper world provides a unique spin to the otherwise typical plot devices.  The diversity of characters, as indicated above, also makes the story far more interesting than most RPGs or action-adventure games: a ninja, moogle, yeti, mimic, feral child, forgotten mage, precocious artist, wanton gambler, treasure-hunter (thief), and more.  The story deals with all of these characters and their lives throughout the overarching freedom-fighter frame story.

It would be difficult to discuss even more of the story without giving away too many plot twists and surprises.  Perhaps a brief overview of the early sections of the game and the order in which the main characters are met would whet your appetite for further game play (if this article hasn’t already demonstrated the enjoyable greatness of this game).  The story begins with Terra and some Imperial soldiers marching on Narshe (the base camp of the Returns, though that’s unknown at the time) to gather a recently-discovered frozen Esper, as indicated earlier.  The failed assault leaves Terra unconscious and free of her Imperial control, though her identity is lost to her.  Locke the treasure hunter rescues her and vows to protect her (for reasons we discover later in the game), helping her join the Returners.  The two make their way to Figaro Castle and meet up with Edgar and eventually Sabin.  The group gets broken up shortly thereafter as Locke goes to investigate the Empire (where he rescues Celes), Sabin is carried away and meets up with Cyan and Gau (and Shadow, briefly), and eventually Terra meets Mog (though he doesn’t permanently join at this time).

Once the player navigates through the three diverse narrative paths, the characters re-gather at Narshe to defend it against an Imperial assault.  Following this defense, Terra leaves (in a very dramatic fashion that shan’t be spoiled here), and the main characters go looking for her.  At this time the Espers start to play a major role in the motivation and waking consciousness of the characters — no longer is the story about rebels against a material tyranny.  As the Returners become increasingly enmeshed in this magic-heavy world during their search for Terra, they require the use of an airship, which leads to the gulling of Setzer and the wonderful Opera House scene.  Mog eventually joins the party, and the characters make a startling discovery on their way to rescue more Espers and find Terra.  When Terra is eventually discovered, her connection to the Espers brings the two plotlines together rather compactly, and the player is soon leading a charge into the Empire itself, after the Espers make their presence felt rather dramatically.  After more deceit and subterfuge, an unusual away team meets up with the final main characters Relm and Strago (the two rare characters do not become playable until later in the game, as mentioned above).  Shortly after the party is all together, sudden and saddening losses occur just before what seems to be the final assault on Gestahl and the Empire.  And then, without warning, the world is destroyed.  And the game has only just begun.

Like Swords or Cold Iron

C.S. Lewis gave The Lord of the Rings the greatest praise any work can receive: “Here are beauties which pierce like swords or burn like cold iron.  Here is a book which will break your heart.”  Final Fantasy VI is such an experience.  In an age of short attention spans, a dearth of quality programming, and a pervasive malaise in the hearts of American youth, a return to the greatness of yesteryear and the best videogame of all time would provide an enormous boon to the world today — and we’re always on the lookout for enormous boons.  Some argue that RPGs are slow and boring — this is nonsense.  Admittedly, one has to enjoy the hours of level-raising requisite for success in an RPG.  “Grinding” is an unfortunate and unnecessarily derogative term for the gameplay needed for RPG progression.  Several solutions are readily apparent: commit a couple hours in an evening, or an entire Saturday afternoon, to primarily raising levels; turn the volume down; and pop in some classic albums to listen to while raising levels (saving one’s game frequently) — perhaps the oeuvre of Genesis during the Peter Gabriel era, or some deep cuts from Deep Purple, or the Led Zeppelin box set, or U2 or Pink Floyd or Queen or Rush or The Moody Blues — the possibilities are virtually endless.  Not only will you get to enjoy some quality music, but you will also get to enjoy playing the best video game of all time, raising your characters’ levels high enough to have them learn every spell and have enough HP and MP to survive the final exciting boss battle extraordinaire.

Final Fantasy VI has it all: customizability, opera, love, ninjas, magic, chocobos, moogles, heartbreak, apocalypse, and eucatastrophe.  Final Fantasy VI is a great story, far superior to even the better stories in recent games and series.  There’s no button mashing, even for Sabin’s combos; instead, strategy and flexibility.  It has no vulgarity, no excessive violence; instead, the fine arts — music, painting, dance, and writing.  It is expansive, challenging, and long.  Most importantly, it is fun.  Final Fantasy VI is enjoyable to play: the characters are worth knowing, the story is engaging and soul-moving, and the game is fun.  The game speaks truth about reality.  It brings light and warmth and joy into one’s soul.  ChronoTrigger, Ocarina of Time, Super Metroid — they are great games, and well worth playing, but Final Fantasy VI is the best video game of all time.  Play it.  Love it.  Enjoy it.

Huckleberry Finn Commonplace

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Tifani Wood Arthur

Throughout the book Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, slavery is a very pertinent topic.  The view of slavery is quite similar for all the people of the town.  This view also is a factor of the culture.  Huck seems to have a slightly different view of slaves but still accepts slavery as everyone else does.

The general attitude toward slavery is that it’s normal.  It is completely accepted, except by the slaves, of course, though the book doesn’t go into much detail about the slaves’ opinions.  Slaves are viewed as material possessions or property, not human beings.  Some slave owners may treat their slaves a little better than others, as seen with Miss Watson, but they still don’t see them as people.  Even Miss Watson who treats her slaves fairly well planned to secretly sell Jim, only for money, though she promised him she wouldn’t sell him.  Slavery is not only seen as accepted but also the right thing to do.  If someone had been found out they had a runaway slave, they would’ve been punished for doing something wrong, not helping someone be free.  This is evident when Huck encounters a group of men searching people for runaway slaves, forcing Huck to hide Jim and make up a story that he is with his sick family, causing the men to leave.

This view of accepting slavery and seeing it as a good thing reflects the culture a great deal.  This shows first of all, people in this culture saw slavery as a thing they had control over.  The people were power hungry, and slaves were one of the things they had complete control of.  They could sell them if they wanted, make them do whatever they told them to, and make them do all the work.  Owning slaves also showed a sign of wealth.  In that culture if you didn’t own slaves, you were looked down upon and seen as being poor.  Another thing slavery shows about the culture is laziness.  The slaves did everything that consisted of hard work while all the white folk lounged around.  Some white folk did work, but the slaves took on the more difficult tasks, still showing laziness on the white men’s part.

Huck Finn did have a similar opinion as the general view, but his opinion didn’t really change about slavery as a whole.  His view may have been influenced by the culture he was immersed in, and he saw slavery as a good, Biblical thing.  This is evident when he contemplates whether or not to rescue Jim.  In the end he does go to rescue Jim, but he feels that it is a sin as he does it.  He sees it as being morally wrong.  Though Huck Finn sees slavery as something good and accepts it, his view of the slaves does change throughout the book.  At the beginning his relationship with Jim is Huck playing pranks on Jim and that’s it.  As the story progresses, especially after Huck and Jim find each other on Jackson’s Island, Huck’s view begins to change.

As they travel down the river together, Huck slowly begins to see Jim as a person, not just property.  He begins to see similarities between white men and Jim, seeing that there’s not all that much of a difference.  Huck sees Jim has some sort of intelligence when they begin to talk about kings, and Jim talks about all he knows of King Solomon.  Huck also sees that Jim can love just as much as a white man can when Jim is mourning for his wife and children after he hears a noise that reminds him of his daughter in the woods.  Altogether, Huck begins to care for Jim.  Huck starts to feel bad when he plays jokes on Jim, as he wouldn’t have before.  This is shown when he sincerely apologizes for trying to trick Jim.  After Jim tells Huck that he is his only friend, Huck feels pity for him.  In a way Huck and Jim can relate to each other; this may be why Huck sees Jim differently than everyone else sees Jim.  Huck and Jim relate in the way that they are both fighting for freedom from different parts of society.  Huck is fighting for freedom from education and the things controlling him in society, to be on his own, living on his own terms.  Jim, on the other hand, is fighting for literal freedom from the bondage of being a slave, which is a big part of society.

Throughout Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, slavery is very much accepted and seen as the right thing to do.  Huck may just feel the same way as society, because he is immersed in the society.  If he hadn’t been immersed in the society, he may have a different view, considering that he is one of the only people that sees slaves as being more than property as shown with Jim.

Counterpoint: Scripture Alone – A Biblically Supported Truth

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Tanner Rotering

The doctrine of Sola Scriptura or “Scripture Alone” is one of the most controversial subject matters between the Catholic/Eastern Orthodox Church and the Protestant Church.  Because the source from which one derives truth is the foundation of one’s belief system, the positions which these churches hold to concerning this issue determine their positions on countless other doctrines as well.  Thus, a correct understanding of the sufficiency of the Holy Scriptures is vitally important to every Christian, and, as a result, I feel it necessary to address the doctrine after the grossly inaccurate representation of the issue by my well-intentioned colleague, Mr. Hamilton.

Before delving into the heart of the issue, it would be beneficial to clear up a few things concerning the history of the doctrine of Sola Scriptura.  First of all, Martin Luther did not contrive the doctrine of Sola Scriptura as justification for his separation from the Roman Catholic Church as if he needed an excuse for his actions.  Instead, his belief in the principles of Sola Scriptura was actually one of the reasons why he was separated from the church in the first place.  He had realized the importance of relying solely upon God’s Word for truth long before he was separated from the Roman Catholic Church.  In addition, he did not choose to separate himself from the Roman Catholic Church, but instead he was forced out of it.  Luther actually wanted to reform the Roman Catholic Church from the inside, but he was not given the opportunity to do so, being excommunicated by the pope.  So instead of developing the doctrine of Sola Scriptura in order to justify himself for his separation from the Roman Catholic Church, his adherence to it was one reason why he was excommunicated by the Roman Catholic Church in the first place.

Next, the doctrine of Sola Scriptura is in no way “repulsive” to the scriptures.  The scriptures clearly testify to their own authority.  Let us start with the Old Testament’s authenticity as the inspired word of God.  By the time of Jesus, the Old Testament had already been firmly established and accepted by the Jews as divine authority.  Michael J. Vlach, a Ph.D. in systematic theology, says in “How Did the Old Testament Become the Old Testament?” the following about the books of the Old Testament:

There are twenty-four books in the Hebrew canon.  These twenty-four books correspond exactly to the books in the English Protestant Bibles that numbers thirty-nine.  The difference is in the enumeration of the books.  (For example, the Hebrew Bible does not divide Samuel into 1 and 2 Samuel.  The same goes for the Kings.)

By the time of Jesus, all of the books of the Old Testament had already been compiled and agreed upon by the Jews.  They consisted of the very same books in our Bible today.  There are various reasons why we can know that they are all authoritative.  First of all, Jesus himself refers to the Law of Moses, the Prophets, and the Psalms, which in turn correspond to the three divisions which the Jews divided the scriptures into: the Law, the Prophets, and the Writings (Vlach).  In Luke 24:44 Jesus says, “This is what I told you while I was still with you: Everything must be fulfilled that is written about me in the Law of Moses, the Prophets, and the Psalms.”  Luke 11:49-51 is another instance where Jesus’ words indicate that the Jewish compilation of the Holy Scriptures was complete.  Jesus says,

Because of this, God in his wisdom said, “I will send them prophets and apostles, some of whom they will kill and others they will persecute.”  Therefore this generation will be held responsible for the blood of all the prophets that has been shed since the beginning of the world, from the blood of Abel to the blood of Zechariah, who was killed between the altar and the sanctuary.  Yes, I tell you, this generation will be held responsible for it all.

Note that the murder of Abel and the murder of Zechariah are the first and the last murders recorded in the Old Testament, recorded in the first and last books of the Jewish Old Testament, Genesis and Chronicles (see Genesis 4:8 and 2 Chronicles 24:20-22) (Keller 134).  In addition, in John 5:39-40 Jesus says, “You study the Scriptures diligently because you think that in them you have eternal life.  These are the very Scriptures that testify about me, yet you refuse to come to me to have life.”

If Jesus knew that the Jews’ compilation of the Old Testament was faulty in some way, he likely would have told them so, but instead of telling them that their compilation was faulty, he tells them that the scriptures they study are the very scriptures that testify to him.  If they were not divinely inspired would Jesus have said that they testify to him?  Jesus does not refer to any errors in the Jews’ compilation in Matthew 5:17-18 when he declares,

Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth disappear, not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen, will by any means disappear from the Law until everything is accomplished.

Not only is the Jewish Old Testament referenced as a whole, but, as Brian R. Keller says in his book Bible: God’s Inspired, Inerrant Word, “All the books of the Old Testament canon are in some way quoted or alluded to in the New Testament except for the books of Esther, Ecclesiastes, and Song of Songs” (137).

It is also evident from Scripture that the 39 books of the Old Testament we use today are the infallible word of God.  In 2 Peter 2:20-21 Simon Peter makes this very clear: “Above all, you must understand that no prophecy of Scripture came about by the prophet’s own interpretation of things.  For prophecy never had its origin in the human will, but prophets, though human, spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit.”

The Old Testament (and the Bible as a whole for that matter) is not simply the writings of men.  Scripture is inspired.  Or as Paul says in 2 Timothy 3:16, “All Scripture is God-breathed….”  Paul also confirms the divine origin of the Old Testament in Romans 3:2, when he says, “What advantage, then, is there in being a Jew, or what value is there in circumcision?  Much in every way!  First of all, the Jews have been entrusted with the very words of God.”  Thus, it is evident from Scripture that we not only possess the appropriate compilation of the Old Testament books, but that they are also God’s word.

The 27 books of the New Testament as appear in the Protestant Bible are also the appropriate canonical books to be regarded as Holy Scripture.  They are not canonical because the Church declared them to be canonical.  God’s word does not rely upon the “Church Fathers” or anyone else to establish the truth of the Bible.  While it is true that the Church recognized the 27 books of the New Testament to be canonical, the church did not impart any authority to scripture nor did it gain any authority by recognizing it as scripture.  In fact, while we may look to the early Church Fathers for confirmation of what we believe, we should not look to them as anything greater than what they are: mere men.

So how can we be assured that the 27 books of the Bible are God’s word?  To start, the canon was based on the teaching of the apostles.  The apostles were those closest to Jesus, and they were promised the Holy Spirit.  In John 14:26, Jesus tells his apostles, “But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you.”  Later in John 16:12-15, Jesus tells them,

 I have much more to say to you, more than you can now bear. But when he, the Spirit of truth, comes, he will guide you into all the truth. He will not speak on his own; he will speak only what he hears, and he will tell you what is yet to come. He will glorify me because it is from me that he will receive what he will make known to you.  All that belongs to the Father is mine. That is why I said the Spirit will receive from me what he will make known to you.

The letters of Paul, though not one of the twelve, also can be taken as Holy Scripture as 2 Peter 3:15 and 16 indicates.

Bear in mind that our Lord’s patience means salvation, just as our dear brother Paul also wrote you with the wisdom that God gave him.  He writes the same way in all his letters, speaking in them of these matters.  His letters contain some things that are hard to understand, which ignorant and unstable people distort, as they do the other Scriptures, to their own destruction.

Richard L. Gurgel in This We Believe notes that “Peter’s fascinating reference reveals that already while Peter was alive the letters of Paul were gathered and recognized as inspired portions of Holy Scripture.”  David Kuske in Biblical Interpretation: The Only Right Way notes that “[t]he apostles often reminded believers that their words were the spirit’s words” and “[t]he apostles indicated that the words they spoke were, therefore, on par with the Old Testament Scriptures.”

In 1 Corinthians 2:12-13 Paul states, “What we have received is not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit who is from God, so that we may understand what God has freely given us.  This is what we speak, not in words taught us by human wisdom but in words taught by the Spirit, explaining spiritual realities with Spirit-taught words.”  Perhaps even more emphatic is 1 Thessalonians 2:13: “And we also thank God continually because, when you received the word of God, which you heard from us, you accepted it not as a human word, but as it actually is, the word of God, which is indeed at work in you who believe.”

Gurgel also says the following about the New Testament canon.

The books of the New Testament come from the first generation of Christians- those who lived at the time of Jesus.  Our faith is founded on the teaching of the apostles themselves.  The long life of the apostle John also helps verify the list of books in the New Testament canon.  John lived to about A.D. 100 and was a reliable witness to the authenticity of any letters that claimed to be inspired apostolic writings.

There were doubts about the authenticity of some of the New Testament books during the time of the early church, specifically Hebrews, James, Peter, 2 John, 3 John, Jude, and Revelation.  These books (along with those of the Old Testament books whose canonicity has been questioned) are referred to as the antilegomena, while those that were well established as canon were called homolegoumena.  The antilegomena were doubted usually either because of their content or their authorship (Kuske 33).  These doubts were put to rest by 300 a.d.

While the position of the early church concerning these antilegomena confirms the canonicity of these books, once again, this does not mean that the early church has any divine authority.  The early church simply lived closer to the times of the apostles; they were better able to verify the authenticity of the scriptures.  This does not mean that they created the canon, simply that they recognized it and were instrumental in sharing it with future generations.  This is a critical distinction.  Keller points out, “The chosen apostles of our Lord Jesus Christ either wrote or approved every book of the New Testament canon” (141).  Apostolicity is still the historical guiding factor because, as the Bible says, the apostles were divinely inspired.  Therefore, the Bible’s canonicity is still rooted in the Bible.

Yet, there is an even more crucial way in which we as Christians recognize the true canon of scripture.  Because the truly canonical books are truth from God, they are self-evident.  As the “Statement on Scripture,” in Doctrinal Statements of the WELS puts it, “The Canon, that is, the collection of books which is the authority for the Church, is not the creation of the Church.  Rather, the Canon has, by a quiet historical process which took place in the worship life of the Church, imposed itself upon the Church by virtue of its own divine authority.”  This statement seems like a very bold thing to say.  The books of the Bible proved themselves to be canonical?  While the church councils publically recognized the canonicity of the New Testament, the Bible had been showing itself to be canonical.

Hebrews 4:12 supports this idea, demonstrating the power of God’s word.  “For the word of God is alive and active.  Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.”

The authority of the Bible is demonstrated by the Bible itself.  The books themselves illustrate the reliability with which they can be accepted as God’s Word.  Romans 10:17 testifies to the power of God’s Word, saying, “Consequently, faith comes from hearing the message, and the message is heard through the word about Christ.”  Jeremiah 23:29 says, “‘Is not my word like fire,’ declares the LORD, ‘and like a hammer that breaks a rock in pieces?’”  1 Peter 1:23 shows us that it is by God’s Word that we are born again: “For you have been born again, not of perishable seed, but of imperishable, through the living and enduring word of God.”  Romans 1:16-17 confirms this idea as well:

For I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God that brings salvation to everyone who believes: first to the Jew, then to the Gentile.  For in the gospel the righteousness of God is revealed — a righteousness that is by faith from first to last, just as it is written: “The righteous will live by faith.”

Thus it is evident that both the Old and New Testaments of the Protestant Bible are both canonical and divinely inspired.  Because the Bible is divinely inspired, it is one hundred percent true.  In John 17:17, Jesus prays to the Father “Sanctify them by the truth; your word is truth.”  Proverbs 30:5 says, “Every word of God is flawless; he is a shield to those who take refuge in him.”  Numbers 23:19 says, “God is not human, that he should lie, not a human being, that he should change his mind.  Does he speak and then not act?  Does he promise and not fulfill?”  Furthermore, this canonicity and divine inspiration is evident from the Bible itself.  This is essentially to say that not only is the Bible completely authoritative, but also it is completely authoritative of its own merit; the word of God does not need any external authority to establish its authenticity.  The Holy Scriptures verify their own authority.

The Word of God is infallible, but is it possible that any other source has equal or greater authority?  The answer from the Bible is a resounding “NO!”  How could anything be as or more authoritative than God’s Word?  Isaiah 8:20 illustrates the insufficiency of any other source.  “Consult God’s instruction and the testimony of warning.  If anyone does not speak according to this word, they have no light of dawn.”  The Bereans of the New Testament recognized this fact.  Acts 17:11 says, “Now the Berean Jews were of more noble character than those in Thessalonica, for they received the message with great eagerness and examined the Scriptures every day to see if what Paul said was true.”  The Scriptures are completely sufficient as well.  We know that it is sufficient because it contains all that we need to know concerning salvation.  As Keller points out, “John 20:31 explains why we have the words of Scripture.”  John 20:30-31 say, “Jesus performed many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not recorded in this book.  But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.”  As shown previously in Romans 10:17 and Romans 1:16-17, faith comes from hearing the gospel.  The Scriptures are the only source we possess where we can read God’s Word, therefore only Scripture ought to be looked to for doctrinal truth.

Keller makes this point blatantly clear.

No one has the right to add to God’s Word.  No one has the right to subtract from God’s Word.  No one has the right to change the meaning of God’s Word in any way.  That is the case for every pastor, teacher, or layperson.  That is the case for the pope too.  It is wrong to add human ideas or traditions to the Bible and consider them God’s Word.  It is wrong to try to brush certain teachings of Scripture under the rug because they are not very popular today.

Keller then goes on to point out two more key verses concerning this idea.  Deuteronomy 4:2 says, “Do not add to what I command you and do not subtract from it, but keep the commands of the Lord your God that I give you.”  Galatians 1:8 says, “But even if we or an angel from heaven should preach a gospel other than the one we preached to you, let them be under God’s curse!”

Now we come to the issue of “tradition.”  Mr. Hamilton does well to make the distinction between the tradition of God and the tradition of men.  On that point I most heartily agree with him.  Our interpretations of what those traditions are and what their implications are for us are the real points of contention.  The “apostolic traditions” referred to in Mr. Hamilton’s two key support passages, 2 Thessalonians 2:15 and I Corinthians 11:2, are simply the gospel teachings.  As R. C. H. Lenski says concerning Second Thessalonians 2:15’s use of the Greek word for “tradition,”

The use of paradoseis does not contain something rabbinic, for this term is used in the Gospels and also by Paul in Gal. 1:14 and Col. 2:8 to denote Jewish and human “traditions.”  Here and in 3:6 and in I Cor. 11:2 the word = the gospel teachings, “truth” (v. 13), “the truth” (v. 10, 12), the plural to indicate the different parts of the gospel truth.  The word itself points only to transmission: the things given or handed over from teacher to pupil.  Romanists have appropriated it and refer it to teachings handed down in the church and not recorded in the Scriptures; but this late Romanish use has nothing to do with Paul’s use.  In I Cor. 11:2 Paul also has the corresponding verb (443).

 The NIV translation makes this point more clear.  It reads, “So then, brothers and sisters, stand firm and hold fast to the teachings we passed on to you, whether by word of mouth or by letter.”  The written teachings passed on to the Thessalonians (i.e. the letters) are Holy Scripture, and the teachings delivered by the word of mouth most definitely were in agreement with their letters.  Thus these passages in no way refute the weight with which Christians recognize the Holy Scriptures as having.  Even if one was to claim the possibility that some additional teachings were issued by the apostles’ word of mouth besides that which is recorded in scripture, there is no way that we can know what these doctrines are since they were not recorded.  If they had been recorded and shown to be authentic, they would have been recognized as scripture, but the early church recognized no such writings as divinely inspired except that which they included in the canon.  Some may claim that they were passed on by oral tradition and recorded later, but there is no way to verify the accuracy/authenticity of these oral transmissions.  Therefore, we must still adhere to Sola Scriptura.

Let me again clarify.  I am not denying that the traditions (i.e. the teachings) of the apostles were not divinely inspired.  No, in fact, I agree that the teachings of the apostles were divinely inspired.  As demonstrated earlier in this article when discussing the criteria of Apostolicism for canonicity, the Holy Spirit spoke through the apostles.  What I am saying is that the apostles taught the same gospel both in their letters and in their word of mouth, and that we only have access to the written teachings of the apostles (the Bible).  The doctrine of Sola Scriptura does not deny that there is truth that is not recorded in the Bible (like in some of the Apostles’ oral dissertations); it only says that Scripture is the only inerrant, authoritative, doctrinally foundational source of truth that we have access to, and that it is completely sufficient.

Whenever discussing the doctrine of Sola Scriptura another point of contention that almost invariably arises is the authority of the Church.  What type of authority does the church have and what type does it not?  Is the decree of the visible church infallible?  If so, which visible church is infallible?  What are the powers and responsibilities given to the Church?  All of these are relevant questions when addressing the relationship between the church and scripture.

Let us review the distinction between the visible and invisible church.  The invisible church is comprised of all believers, while the visible church is comprised of all who confess to be believers.  The term “invisible church” refers to what we generally think of as the Church.  The invisible church is “a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession” (1 Peter 2:9).  It is comprised of the “family of believers” (Galatians 6:10).  It is Christ’s body (Ephesians 1:23) and “God’s household” (1 Timothy 3:15).  Galatians 3:26-27 says, “So in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ.”  Romans 11:20 clearly shows you must have faith to be in the invisible Church.  Ephesians 4:3-6 puts special emphasis on the unity of this invisible church: “Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace.  There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to one hope when you were called; one Lord, one faith, one baptism;  one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.

“Why do we call all believers in Christ the invisible church?” you may wonder.  We call it invisible because man, unlike God, cannot judge the heart.  No one can definitively ascertain whether anyone else is a believer or not.  While it is true that all faith should invariably lead to good works or “fruit” as the Bible tells us, this still does not mean man has the ability to judge who is saved and who is not.  Luke 17:20-21 says, “Once, on being asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God would come, Jesus replied, ‘The coming of the kingdom of God is not something that can be observed, nor will people say, “Here it is,” or “There it is,” because the kingdom of God is in your midst.’”  Note that an alternate translation for “is in your midst” for this passage is “is within you.”  The reason we call the body of all believers the invisible church is simple.  Edward W.A. Koehler in A Summary of Christian Doctrine says, “Because faith, by which men become members of the Church, is invisible to human eyes, therefore the Church itself is invisible to man” (239).

It is important to mark the distinction between the invisible church and the visible church.  Koehler says, “Briefly stated: The invisible Church is the total number of those who HAVE true faith in their hearts; the visible Church is the total number of those who PROFESS the faith.  The invisible Church is hidden in the visible church.”  Koehler also notes,

The faith, by which men are members of the Church, is itself invisible (Luke 17:20.21) but it manifests itself in various ways.  All true believers will confess their faith; “with the heart man believeth unto righteousness, and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation” (Rom. 10:10); (Matt. 10:32).  They will also prove their faith by a godly life, letting their light shine before men, that they may see their good works and glorify their Father in heaven (Matt. 5:16).  They will nurse their spiritual life by making diligent use of the means of grace; “he that is of God heareth God’s Word” (John 8:47); (1 Cor. 11:26).  Thus by their confession of faith, by their godly life, by their attendance upon public worship the believers become recognizable to others; these things are the outward evidence of their invisible faith.…  The total number of those people whom we must regard, on the basis of their confession in word and deed, as Christians, constitute the visible Church (244, 245).

There are many organizations which form the visible church, which we refer to as churches or sometimes as denominations.  While we refer to these as churches, many of these are not true churches since they do not teach only true biblical doctrines.  As James F. Korthals writes in his article “The visible church” in the January 2009 issue of Forward In Christ, “A true visible church is one that not only knows the truth but also proclaims the truth of God’s Word in its entirety.”  It is important to recognize, however, that this does not mean that no one within one of these heterodox visible churches is a member of the invisible church.  Nor does it mean that everyone within a true visible church is a member of the invisible church.  Koehler summarizes this relationship between the visible and invisible church very poignantly.

The invisible Church is the only saving Church.  Since faith in the vicarious atonement of Christ is the only thing that saves (John 3:16), and since the Church embraces all those who have this faith, it is apparent that membership in this Church saves.  Whoever rejects the faith, by which one is a member of this Church, cannot find salvation in any other religion.  It is not true that every one is saved in his own fashion, no matter what his faith may be.  Christ says: “I am the way, the truth, and the life; no man cometh unto the Father, but by Me” (John 14:6).  However, no visible church body, or denomination, may claim that it is the only saving church, as the Romish Church does.…  According to the Bible teaching “no salvation outside of the Church” applies to the invisible Church alone (241).

It is evident that the visible church can be further subdivided into true and false (or orthodox and heterodox) churches as well.  In addition, the New Testament warns us of false teachers and deceivers.

Considering what we know about the visible and the invisible church, what can we say about the authority of the church?  As Mr. Hamilton points out, 1 Timothy 3:15 says, “if I am delayed, you will know how people ought to conduct themselves in God’s household, which is the church of the living God, the pillar and foundation of the truth.”  Does it then follow that “the Orthodox Catholic Church” can “define the revealed truth”?  Of course not!  First, we must ask ourselves whether “church” here means the visible or the invisible church.  It is clear that we could not consider heretics and false teachers to be part of the pillar and ground of truth, therefore we must assume that the church being referred to is the invisible church, the body of believers, the body of Christ.  While it is true that these true believers are part of the visible church, they are not the only ones within the visible church, and therefore the visible church as a whole is not the pillar and ground of truth.  R. C. H. Lenski says the following about the meaning of the Greek concerning the word “household” in 1 Timothy 3:15.  “Οἶκοs = ἐκκλησία = not the family in a house but the ‘assembly,’ the church members themselves.  They are this ‘house,’ which is called ‘house’ because God dwells in them.  This is one of the many beautiful expressions for the unio mystica, in this case it is collective with the reference to the church” (606).  Thus this is not a reference to any church body but rather the church as the body of believers.  It is not “the Orthodox Catholic Church” that is the pillar and foundation of truth, but rather all believers.

Next we must consider what it means that the church is the pillar and foundation of the truth.  It does not mean that the church is given the authority to establish what God’s word means in some form of divinely ordained privilege to give life and meaning to the scriptures.  The Church has no authority over Scripture; rather the Scriptures are the guide for the Church.  Each and every member of the church is able to understand and believe in Scripture because of the Holy Spirit’s work in his or her heart.  First Corinthians 2:13-16 says,

This is what we speak, not in words taught us by human wisdom but in words taught by the Spirit, explaining spiritual realities with Spirit-taught words.  The person without the Spirit does not accept the things that come from the Spirit of God but considers them foolishness, and cannot understand them because they are discerned only through the Spirit.  The person with the Spirit makes judgments about all things, but such a person is not subject to merely human judgments, for, “Who has known the mind of the Lord so as to instruct him?”  But we have the mind of Christ.

Likewise, in John 8:47, Jesus says, “Whoever belongs to God hears what God says.  The reason you do not hear is that you do not belong to God.”  The gospel is that truth of which the church is the pillar and foundation, and we find that gospel in the Scriptures.  Lenski says,

 The gospel = “the truth.”  As ἀλήθεια, “reality,” this truth exists independently and is dependent on no pillar, foundation, or other kind of support.  Every reality, and above all this eternal one, is simply there, and that is all.  Yet this Gospel truth which God sent into the world is not just there to be there, i.e., in existence; it is to save men, and thus men it has saved, the living God’s church, bear it as a pillar, yea as a foundation bears its superstructure.  The church thus bears God’s saving truth for all the world.

Because believers are able to believe and understand God’s word through the work of the Holy Spirit, they have the responsibility to study, apply, guard, and spread this news.  In this sense they are the pillar and foundation of the truth.  The Church has no authority to establish the meaning of the Scriptures; it simply has the ability to correctly interpret them, but only because of the Holy Spirit.  It has the authority to teach, but only that which is rooted in Scripture because God’s word is the ultimate authority.

The Church has no authority to teach anything except that found in scripture.  1 Timothy 6:3-4a says, “If anyone teaches otherwise and does not agree to the sound instruction of our Lord Jesus Christ and to godly teaching, they are conceited and understand nothing.”  The Church has no authority to claim anything but what the Bible teaches.  Everything else would be such “traditions of men” (cf. Matthew 15:1-9).  Jeremiah 23:30-32 says,

“Therefore,” declares the Lord, “I am against the prophets who steal from one another words supposedly from me.  Yes,” declares the Lord, “I am against the prophets who wag their own tongues and yet declare, ‘The Lord declares.’  Indeed, I am against those who prophesy false dreams,” declares the Lord.  “They tell them and lead my people astray with their reckless lies, yet I did not send or appoint them.  They do not benefit these people in the least,” declares the Lord.

No one, not even church leaders such as pastors or priests have the authority to teach anything except what is found in Scripture.  These leaders derive their authority only from Scripture.  They have no authority of their own (Koehler 254).

In fact, there is no such thing as the “Apostolic Priesthood.”  Koehler notes that “[t]he keys of the Kingdom were not given to Peter alone (Matt. 16:19), but to the Church (Matt. 18:18).  Peter never claimed primacy or lordship over the Church for himself (1 Peter 5:3); he calls himself just “an apostle” “also an elder” like the others (1 Pet. 1:1; 5:1)” (254, 255).  It is interesting to note that Mr. Hamilton makes reference to Matthew 18:18 as a proof passage showing that Jesus gave the keys to the Apostles, but if you read the chapter in context, it does not specify “the twelve” nor does it use any other terminology that would imply that this is being addressed only to the twelve apostles.  Instead, verse 1 only refers to the disciples which could include anyone who was following Jesus (which included more than just the twelve apostles).  Koehler says,

A comparison of [Matt. 16:19] with Matt.18:18 clearly shows that the power to bind and to loose is given to the church or the local congregation.…  In the case of the incestuous person at Corinth, action was taken by the congregation (1Cor. 5; 2 Cor. 2:6-10).  Although hypocrites within the congregation externally participate in the exercise of this power, they do not share in the right of possessing it, since it properly belongs to those only who have received the Holy Ghost (John 20:22-23), and who by faith are the royal priesthood (1 Pet. 2:9) (255-256).

Mr. Hamilton uses Acts 1:20 as a support passage for the “Apostolic Priesthood” as if the passage somehow supports the continual selection of successors for the Apostles.  It is evident from the context of the passage, however, that this passage is referring only to the replacement of Judas.  Peter himself notes that “the Holy Spirit spoke long ago through David concerning Judas” and not about every apostle.  The fact that this reference is referring only to the replacement of Judas is made even more abundantly clear in verses 21-22 where Paul notes the purpose/criteria of this replacement: “Therefore it is necessary to choose one of the men who have been with us the whole time the Lord Jesus was living among us, beginning from John’s baptism to the time when Jesus was taken up from us.  For one of these must become a witness with us of his resurrection.”  In addition to the fact that nowhere in Scripture is a continual replacement or succession of the Apostles ever mentioned, no one would be able to meet the criteria of being a witness to Jesus’ resurrection as was the case in Judas’ replacement for very long.

Finally, Titus 1:5 is even less of an appropriate support passage than Acts 1:20.  That elders were to be appointed does not mean that these elders were successors of the apostles or that they were infallible.  Koehler notes, “The prophets and apostles are infallible teachers of the Church, because they spake under the inspiration of God (Eph. 2:20; 2 Peter 1:21; 1 Corinthian 2:13)” (255).  Our religious leaders, on the other hand are not.

I would like to bring up one final point concerning the alleged “Apostolic Priesthood.”  Though Mr. Hamilton does not present this specific argument, many will claim that Matthew 16:18 supports such an “Apostolic Priesthood” because of Jesus’ words, “And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church.”  The “rock” which Jesus states that he will build his church on is not Peter.  The word for Peter used in the Greek is Petros, while the word used for the rock upon which Christ will build his church is petra.  Despite what the Catholic Church may have believed the Greek to have indicated, two distinct words are used in this passage, and the rock upon which Jesus said he would build His church is actually the confession made by Peter in verse 16: “Simon Peter answered, ‘You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.’”  Thus the theory of the “Apostolic Priesthood” can hardly be considered scriptural and we must again conclude that the only authority for Christian doctrine is Scripture.

Some will claim that this concept of the sufficiency of Scripture is a relatively new idea that began with the Reformation.  In reality, however, even the early Church Fathers recognized this foundational principle of the Christian faith.  Gregory L. Jackson, in Catholic/ Lutheran/ Protestant: A Doctrinal Comparison of the Three Christian Confessions, provides several quotations from the early Church Fathers.  He says, “The tactic of arguing for the insufficiency of Scripture (and therefore the necessity of another source, whether it be the book of Mormon or Mary Baker Eddy’s Science and Health) is old rather than new, and countered long ago.”  He provides the following excerpt from the writings of Irenaeus.

When they are proved wrong from the Scriptures, they turn and accuse the Scriptures themselves, as if they were not correct and were without authority, both because they speak now one way, now another, and also because the truth cannot be found from Scripture by those who do not know the traditions; for (so they say) the truth was not given through the epistles, but through the living voice, etc.

Jackson also provides a quotation from St. Augustine:

If you believe the report about Christ, see whether this is a proper witness; consider what disaster you are headed for.  You reject the Scriptures which are confirmed and commended by such great authority; you perform no miracles, and if you performed any, we would shun even those in your case according to the Lord’s instruction Mt. 24:24.  He wanted absolutely nothing to be believed against the confirmed authority of the Scriptures, etc.

Some will claim, in spite of such quotations, that the early Church Fathers actually promoted the Orthodox/Catholic idea of Apostolic Tradition.  While it is true that the early Church Fathers did adhere to a form of Apostolic Tradition, it is very different from the form advocated by the Orthodox and the Catholic theologians.  The “Apostolic Tradition” was simply the teachings found in Scripture.  Thus the “Apostolic Tradition” of the early church was actually in support of the sufficiency of Scripture.  Irenaeus said: “We have learned from none others the plan of our salvation, than from those through whom the gospel has come down to us, which they did at one time proclaim in public, and, at a later period, by the will of God, handed down to us in the Scriptures, to be the ground and pillar of our faith.”

William Webster explains the truth of the matter:

The word tradition simply means teaching.  Irenaeus and Tertullian state emphatically that all the teachings of the Bishops that was given orally was rooted in Scripture and could be proven from the written Scriptures.  Both men give the actual doctrinal content of the Apostolic Tradition that was orally preached in the churches.  From this, it can be seen clearly that all their doctrine was derived from Scripture.  There was no doctrine in what they refer to as Apostolic Tradition that is not found in Scripture.  In other words, the Apostolic Tradition defined by Irenaeus and Tertullian is simply the teaching of Scripture.

Webster also quotes Church historian Ellen Flessman-van Leer from Tradition and Scripture in the Early Church.

For Tertullian, Scripture is the only means for refuting or validating a doctrine as regards its content… For Irenaeus, the Church doctrine is certainly never purely traditional; on the contrary, the thought that there could be some truth, transmitted exclusively viva voce (orally), is a Gnostic line of thought… If Irenaeus wants to prove the truth of a doctrine materially, he turns to Scripture, because therein the teaching of the apostles is objectively accessible.

There are many other quotations from by the Church Fathers affirming the fact that the early church relied solely upon the authority of the Holy Scriptures.  St. Athanasius said, “The holy and inspired Scriptures are fully sufficient for the proclamation of the truth.”  St. Gregory of Nyssa affirmed the importance of every doctrine being in compliance with Scripture when he says, “Let the inspired Scriptures then be our umpire, and the vote of truth will be given to those whose dogmas are found to agree with the Divine words.”  He also said “we are not entitled to such license, namely, of affirming whatever we please.  For we make Sacred Scripture the rule and the norm of every doctrine.  Upon that we are obliged to fix our eyes, and we approve only whatever can be brought into harmony with the intent of these writings.”

St. Augustine of Hippo is also in agreement with the doctrine of Sola Scriptura saying,

Let them show their church if they can, not by the speeches and mumblings of the Africans, not by the councils of their bishops, not by the writings of any of their champions, not by fraudulent signs and wonders, because we have been prepared and made cautious also against these things by the Word of the Lord; but [let them show their church] by a command of the Law, by the predictions of the prophets, by songs from the Psalms, by the words of the Shepherd Himself, by the preaching and labors of the evangelists; that is, by all the canonical authorities of the sacred books.

St. Cyril of Jerusalem declared,

For concerning the divine and holy mysteries of the Faith, not even a casual statement must be delivered without the Holy Scriptures; nor must we be drawn aside by mere plausibility and artifices of speech.  Even to me, who tell you these things, give not absolute credence, unless you receive the proof of the things which I announce from the Divine Scriptures.  For this salvation which we believe depends not on ingenious reasoning, but on demonstration of the Holy Scriptures.

St. John Chrysostom said, “Regarding the things I say, I should supply even the proofs, so I will not seem to rely on my own opinions, but rather, prove them with Scripture, so that the matter will remain certain and steadfast,” and also, “They say that we are to understand the things concerning Paradise not as they are written but in a different way.  But when Scripture wants to teach us something like that, it interprets itself and does not permit the hearer to err.  I therefore beg and entreat that we close our eyes to all things and follow the canon of Holy Scripture exactly.”

St. Basil is yet another early Church Father who confirmed the doctrine of Sola Scriptura.  He also makes the place of the “traditions of the fathers” clear saying, “We are not content simply because this is the tradition of the Fathers.  What is important is that the Fathers followed the meaning of the Scripture.”  The fact that only doctrines from scripture ought to be taught is also made clear in this quotation from St. Basil.

What is the mark of a faithful soul?  To be in these dispositions of full acceptance on the authority of the words of Scripture, not venturing to reject anything nor making additions.  For, if “all that is not of faith is sin” as the Apostle says, and “faith cometh by hearing and hearing by the Word of God,” everything outside Holy Scripture, not being of faith, is sin (all quotations in this section taken from Angelfire).

Though the testimony of the early Church Fathers should not be considered as divinely inspired or authoritative, the fact that they recognized that the Scriptures ought to be recognized as the only authoritative source of Christian doctrine is supportive of the fact that the doctrine of Sola Scripture has been around since the earliest years of the church even if the doctrine was not referred to as “Sola Scriptura.”  After all, it is clearly supported by the Bible.

The emphasis on the doctrinal principles of “Scripture Alone,” though largely neglected by the Catholic Church, soon blossomed in mainstream Christianity with the advent of the Reformers.  The fact that Sola Scriptura was neglected by the majority of professing Christians during the height of Catholicism, however, in no way reduces the authority of the doctrine.  Jesus said in Matthew 24:24, “For false messiahs and false prophets will appear and perform great signs and wonders to deceive, if possible, even the elect.”  We can be assured, however, that the gates of Hell will never prevail over the church.  Matthew 16:18 says, “And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it.”  Some will say that because the gates of Hell will not overcome the church, Protestants cannot hope to justify their beliefs, drawing attention to the extended period of time between the early church and the Protestant Reformation.  In other words, these people construct an argument that follows the general logic chain “because there can never be a time when the church is nonexistent, and because the protestant church was nonexistent during the Middle Ages, the Protestant church cannot be the true church.”  There are several major flaws in this line of argumentation, however.

First of all, there is a fundamental misunderstanding of the two usages of the word “church.”  There is both the visible church and the invisible church, as discussed previously.  Therefore, despite the fact that there may have not been an orthodox visible church during the Middle Ages, it is not then true that the invisible church was therefore nonexistent during this time period as well.  Even if not a single completely correctly teaching visible church existed during the Middle Ages, this does not mean that believers were not present.  Romans 11:1-6 presents an outstanding example of a time when, despite what the situation appeared to be, God had preserved a remnant.

I ask then: Did God reject his people?  By no means!  I am an Israelite myself, a descendant of Abraham, from the tribe of Benjamin.  God did not reject his people, whom he foreknew.  Don’t you know what Scripture says in the passage about Elijah — how he appealed to God against Israel: “Lord, they have killed your prophets and torn down your altars; I am the only one left, and they are trying to kill me”?  And what was God’s answer to him?  “I have reserved for myself seven thousand who have not bowed the knee to Baal.”  So too, at the present time there is a remnant chosen by grace.  And if by grace, then it cannot be based on works; if it were, grace would no longer be grace.

Secondly, we know from Matthew 16:18 that the gates of Hell will not overcome the church, and thus that the invisible church will always exist, but scripture does not say that there will always be perfect doctrinal understanding within this body of believers.  Thus, even if there were periods of time where no believers accepted doctrines like Sola Scriptura, that does not then necessitate that Sola Scriptura is a false doctrine.  Because it is possible to be a believer but not believe in Sola Scriptura, this doctrine may have not been held by anyone during the Middle Ages, but this does not mean that there were not any believers during this time.  Thus the truth that the gates of Hell will never overcome the church is still compatible with the doctrine of Sola Scriptura.

Some also argue Sola Scriptura is self-contradictory because it is not found in the Bible.  While it is true that the Bible does not say the words “Scripture Alone,” it is clearly a biblical principle as illustrated above, and thus not self-contradictory.  Just as Christians believe that there is one God in three (and only three) persons even though the Bible does not say the word “Trinity” or “there are only three persons in the Trinity” because such a doctrine is scripturally supported, so we also believe that there is only one source of God’s Word we can use for doctrinal truth.

In conclusion, because the Holy Scripture (the canonical sixty-six books of the Protestant Bible) is God’s word, and because God’s Word is inerrant, the Holy Scripture is one hundred percent accurate.  In addition, because the Holy Scripture is the only divinely-inspired source God has given to us, we must rely solely on the scripture for doctrinal issues.  This doctrine is clearly supported by the scriptures themselves.  The church is only authoritative insofar as its teachings are based upon scripture.  If they are not in congruence with scripture, they are nothing.  Thus, Christians ought to affirm the doctrine of Sola Scriptura in order to avoid the many snares and pitfalls the world sets up against us.  It should be a comfort to Christians to know the Bible is completely sufficient, and we have all that is necessary for salvation.  Let us never forget the significance of the words of Psalm 119:105: “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path” (KJV).

Works Cited

The Ancient Fathers on “Sola Scriptura.” Angelfire. 06 Mar. 2011. Internet.

BibleGateway.com. 20, 26, 27 Feb. 2011. Internet. Note: Unless taken from a quotation or otherwise indicated, all scripture references were taken from the NIV found at BibleGateway.com.

Berkley , Warren E. “2 Thessalonians 2:15 — Stand Fast & Hold the Traditions.” Interactive Bible Home Page. July 1996. 27 Feb. 2011. Internet.

Gurgel, Richard L. This We Believe: Questions and Answers. Milwaukee: Northwestern, 2006.

Jackson, Gregory Lee. Catholic, Lutheran, Protestant: a Doctrinal Comparison of Three Christian Confessions. St. Louis, MO: Martin Chemnitz, 1993.

Keller, Brian R. Bible: God’s Inspired, Inerrant Word. Milwaukee: Northwestern, 2003.

Kiecker, James G. “Fading Power.” Editorial. Forward In Christ. Oct. 1994. Wisconsin Evangelical Lutheran Synod (WELS): Northwestern. 27 Feb. 2011. Internet.

Koehler, Edward W. A. A Summary of Christian Doctrine; a Popular Presentation of the Teachings of the Bible. St. Louis: Concordia, 1971.

Korthals, James F. “The Visible Church.” Editorial. Forward in Christ. Jan. 2009. Wisconsin Evangelical Lutheran Synod (WELS): Northwestern. 26 Feb. 2011. Internet.

Kuske, David P. Biblical Interpretation: the Only Right Way. Milwaukee: Northwestern, 1995.

Lenski, R. C. H. The Interpretation of St. Paul’s Epistles to the Colossians, to the Thessalonians, to Timothy, to Titus, and to Philemon. Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1961.

Vlach, Michael J. “How Did the Old Testament Become the Old Testament?” TheologicalStudies.org. 20 Feb. 2011. Internet.

Webster, William. “Sola Scriptura and the Early Church — What Did the Early Church Believe about the Authority of Scripture?” Christian Answers® Network™. 06 Mar. 2011. Internet.

Point: Tradition

1 Reply

Seraphim Hamilton

In Martin Luther’s break from the Papal Church, he was forced to develop a doctrine that allowed him to legitimately break from the institutional church.  This doctrine, known as Sola Scriptura, is hailed by many today as divine truth.  In short, Sola Scriptura suggests that Scripture is the supreme witness of divine truth, to be held above the Church’s tradition.  In a more extreme variation, Sola Scriptura is the doctrine that only the Scripture reveals divine truth, with all other church tradition being worthless.

Both of these doctrines are repulsive to the Scripture itself.  Denying the Tradition of the Church does not exalt the Scripture any more than denying God the Son exalts God the Father.  In supporting their doctrine, Protestants often appeal to the Lord’s words in Mark 7:8, where Christ rebukes the Pharisees, saying, “You leave the commandment of God and hold to the tradition of men.”  And likewise, in Matthew 15:3, Jesus asks the Pharisees, “Why do you break the commandment of God for the sake of your tradition?”  From these passages, it can seem to the lay reader that the Bible speaks forcefully against tradition.  However, one must take into account the whole of Scripture.

St. Paul writes in 2 Thessalonians 2:15, “Stand firm and hold to the traditions that you were taught by us, either by our spoken word or by our letter.”  And likewise, in 1 Corinthians 11:2, it is written, “Now I commend you because you remember me in everything and maintain the traditions even as I delivered them to you.”  Yet, St. Paul also writes in Colossians 2:8, “See to it that no one takes you captive by philosophy and empty deceit, according to human tradition….”

What does one make of these seemingly contradictory passages?  The answer is to simply look at the qualifiers attached to tradition.  When the Lord speaks negatively of tradition in the Gospel, He does so against the Pharisaic tradition, the tradition of men, which had corrupted the word of God.  However, it is simply illogical to then infer that there is no divinely inspired tradition.  The Gospel of Thomas is a false and heretical “scripture.”  It does not follow, however, that the Bible is not divinely inspired.  Likewise, there are traditions that corrupt the word of God.  However, there are also traditions that are the word of God.  When St. Paul speaks of human tradition, he is clearly speaking of the former kind.  Again, we see that there is no statement that all tradition is uninspired, only the “human traditions.”

On the contrary, we saw in 2 Thessalonians 2:15 a clear portrait of the status of Tradition.  St. Paul wrote that Christians are to keep the Apostolic Traditions, contained in their writings and in their spoken preaching.  Hence, St. Paul implies that not all of the apostolic faith is contained within their writings.  The Apostolic Writings later became known as the New Testament.  The teaching of the Apostles that was not written in Scripture is known colloquially as “tradition.”  More properly, however, Tradition is the entire deposit of faith, made up of the written Scriptures as well as the rest of apostolic teaching.  Christians are to maintain the tradition of the Church as delivered by the Apostles as steadfastly as they maintain Scripture.  Neither is supreme over the other, because both are divinely inspired.  To say that one is superior is like saying that St. Mark’s Gospel is more inspired than St. Matthew’s.

The final authority on the interpretation of Scripture is not the individual reader.  Rather, it is the visible, united body of Christ, the Orthodox Catholic Church.  It is written in 1 Timothy 3:15, “If I delay, you may know how one ought to behave in the household of God, which is the church of the living God, the pillar and ground of truth.”  It is then the Church of God that is the pillar and ground of divinely revealed truth.  It is the Church that is to guard and define the revealed truth.  Christ endowed his authority to the Church with the keys of the Apostolic priesthood, which He promised to give in Matthew 18:18, where the Lord says to the Apostles, “If he refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church.  And if he refuses to listen even to the church, let him be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector.  Truly, I say to you, whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.”

Christ endowed the Church with the divine authority to render judgment on men and justified this authority by endowing the Apostles with the keys to bind and loose.  Lest the Church lose its authority, the Apostles endowed the grace of the priesthood upon others, as it is written in Acts 1:20, “For it is written in the Book of Psalms, ‘May his camp become desolate, and let there be no one to dwell in it’ and ‘Let another take his bishopric.’”  And likewise in Titus 1:5, it is written, “This is why I left you in Crete, so that you might put what remained into order, and appoint priests in every town as I directed you.”

For 40 years the Church existed without a complete New Testament.  How then could the New Testament be a requirement for the existence of the Church?  The New Testament did not build the Church.  God built the New Testament through His Church.  The New Testament is recognized Scripture only because the Church has decreed it so.  In the synods of Rome and Carthage, the Church ratified the canon of the New Testament as containing 27 books.  Hence, for a Protestant to use the Bible is in itself a subtle acknowledgement of the authority of this Church, and hence, a refutation of Sola Scriptura!

Sola Scriptura is in itself a tradition of men.  Protestants must abandon this corrupt tradition and get in line with the Word of God.

Faramir Restored

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Christopher Rush

In the “Book Reviews” section of our previous issue, I included some thoughts from Katharyn W. Crabbe on heroism in her article “The Quest as Legend: The Lord of the Rings,” taken from Harold Bloom’s Modern Critical Interpretations work on J.R.R. Tolkien’s masterpiece.  Reprinted below is the quotation in question:

The difference between Boromir and Faramir is an expression of the difference in what they have inherited from their Númenórean past….  It is not only knowledge of the past but reverence for it and understanding of it that set Faramir apart, and that knowledge, reverence, and understanding are his links to the golden age….  By exemplifying a hero who values the spiritual life of a culture as well as its physical life, Faramir links the Rohirrim to Aragorn, King of the Númenóreans.

I bring this up again because we are already coming up to the 10th anniversary of the release of Peter Jackson’s The Fellowship of the Ring.  Most of you grew up with these movies as commonplace childhood experiences; the rest of us, though, grew up wondering if a live-action version of these classic novels (or novel, depending on how literate you are in things Tolkien) would ever happen.  The trailers for The Fellowship of the Ring were an exciting promise, made even more encouraging with the declaration The Two Towers and The Return of the King would be coming out in the next two years.  Watching The Fellowship of the Ring was a great experience in the theater; we went knowing that some changes from the book were bound to occur — some were easier to live with (such as the time compression of events for the sake of film pacing, the absence of Tom Bombadil and the Barrow-wight) than others (Arwen — enough said).  Fortunately, despite a fair amount of substantial changes (the fate of Saruman, the absence of the scouring of the Shire), The Return of the King in 2003 brought the movie trilogy to an enjoyable and moving conclusion.  The real problem, though, came in 2002 with The Two Towers.

Peter Jackson’s decision to move some of the narrative elements from The Two Towers to occur simultaneously with events in The Return of the King was a good decision — he captures in film what Tolkien didn’t quite capture with the division of narrations in books three through five.  Still, the final sentences of The Two Towers are some of the most chilling and spine-tingling final sentences in all of literature.  The absence of the greatest use of onomatopoeia is not the real problem, however; the real problem is that Peter Jackson’s movie adaptation had each of the three main groups of characters make the opposite decision they made in Tolkien’s original plotline: the Ents reject Pippin and Merry’s request to join against Saruman; Théoden is an anti-Free Peoples bigot and the battle of Helm’s Deep is blown out of proportion; and Faramir absconds with Frodo, Sam, and the Ring to defend Osgiliath.  The bonus dvds from the four-disc extended edition supplied us with the directorial team’s reasoning behind these decisions: essentially, Peter Jackson thought his version was better than Tolkien’s.

Putting aside the other differences, the most hurtful change was the total destruction of Faramir.  Katharyn Crabbe made the point that Faramir was truly a hero because he knew his people’s past.  He “values the spiritual life of [his] culture as well as its physical life,” linking Faramir in a substantial way to both Aragorn the true king and the halcyon days of Númenor in the Second Age.  The original movie release of The Two Towers gave us no substantial reason for Faramir’s decision to take Frodo and Sam to Osgiliath; at least the extended dvd version supplied some fabricated backstory of the brotherly rivalry with Boromir for their father Denethor’s affections.  The brothers already had enough tension built in with their different valuations of their own cultural past; Jackson needn’t have brought in filial rivalry (a much less interesting motivation).  Faramir also is at least tacitly complicit with the Rangers’ beating of Gollum in the movie, a brutal attribute for one who originally was characterized by “knowledge, reverence, and understanding.”

We were told by the directorial staff that they made these changes to give the characters room to grow (as if the Ents would realistically change their minds just by seeing the destruction Isengard was perpetrating on the forests).  Faramir, though, the real Faramir, does not need to grow — certainly not in the stereotypical Hollywood character arc fashion.  He does not need to see the damage the Ring can do (and apparently does to Frodo after the brief repellence of the Orcs from Osgiliath).  Faramir has already arrived as a hero.  He is the model that Frodo needs to experience and from which to learn, not the other way around.  The danger from this type of Hollywood movie and television series is their message that children and youth are smarter than adults, and that adults need to change their behavior and values based on what the younger generations (or people groups) enjoy.  It’s not about Jesus’ exhortation to let the little ones come to Him — it’s about our culture’s kowtowing to ignorant youths with disposable income; youths need adults to model appropriate behavior and acculturate them into the traditional values of classical/Christian Western Civilization.  Just watch Happy Feet like an intelligent person for a clear example to what Peter Jackson’s total change of The Two Towers can lead.

Faramir knows his culture’s past, he knows the ways of Rangers and thus the natural world, and he knows the spiritual and physical values of the Free Peoples.  This is exactly what Frodo as a heretofore insular being needs to know.  This is why Faramir is a hero, why he can resist the lure of the Ring.  He does not need to be tested to make his character more interesting, nor does he need to fail for a time so his later apologetic reversal seems more dramatic.  The Lord of the Rings already has enough characters who go through growth, maturation, and decline — that’s the whole purpose of the Sam/Gollum/Frodo storyline!  Faramir is a source of stability, a reminder of what has been lost (and even abjured by Aragorn for a time), and a significant element of the ultimate restoration of Middle-earth.  Bringing Faramir down to the level of a typical movie/story character is an embarrassing and unnecessary change.  The directorial staff was wrong.  Faramir is not a better or more interesting character by having faults.  Overcoming sins is not better or a more rewarding story than not sinning in the first place.  A heroic character who does what is right all the time for the right reasons (with a believable context and backstory, unlike frothy, vanilla-flavored Christian fiction) is not boring — it is admirable and enjoyable.  Two words: Atticus Finch.

Changing The Lord of the Rings is akin to covering “With or Without You”: if you don’t know what you’re doing, you are in big trouble.  As mentioned above, if one can tolerate Arwen and the absence of the scouring of the Shire (and all the other unnecessary changes), Peter Jackson’s movies can be rather enjoyable — I doubt we will ever see another adaptation of this work in cinema.  As with other adaptations, such as Daniel Day-Lewis’s The Last of the Mohicans, it helps if you just consider it “a different version” of the story.  If you want “the real thing,” just read the book.  That way, you’ll get to know and help restore the real Faramir, the hero.