Left Behind All Over Again?

The cynic in me understands that there is big money to be made on rapture movies, which is why film-makers keep on cranking them out.  The claim is made that these films are intended to lead people to Christ--the stark reality is that they really don't.  But they do make money for those making them, apparently, lots of money.  In fact, we will be treated to two rapture films in just one year.  A couple of weeks ago I posted about another new rapture film, Final Watch.

Billed as the "scariest Christian movie ever," "Final Watch: The Rapture" is marketed as a sure fire way to scare someone into accepting Jesus by using the horror film genre to warn unbelievers (as well as careless "professing" Christians) of the terror of being left behind after the Rapture occurs (h.t. Gene Veith--Cranach).

Now the 2000 Left behind movie, starring Kirk Cameron is being "replaced" (dispensationalists love this word) by a new version of Left Behind, starring everybody's favorite actor, Nicolas Cage.  The sure sign of career failure in Hollywood is when B-list actors like Cage start turning up in moves like this one.  Michael York comes to mind.

And, of course, we are treated to the obligatory movie poster featuring a packed airplane--which we know will either crash because the pilot is a Christian and is suddenly raptured away from the controls at a critical moment in the flight, or suddenly, the plane will be missing a whole bunch of passengers who instantaneously disappear to the horror of all those left behind.

The commercial success of AMC's The Walking Dead, is clearly be responsible for this spate of rapture movies, because one of the promo pictures from the new version of Left behind, tells us of the horrors of having to go through the tribulation, aping the critical issue faced by Walking Dead's main character, Sheriff Rick Grimes and the ubermensch himself, his son Carl.  The rules go out the window after the rapture, just like they do after the zombie apocalypse.

One more pet peeve of mine is, why do characters in movies of this genre always have highly improbable nicknames?  "Buck" Williams sounds far more like a Seinfeld quip applied to George Costanza, than to a nickname someone actually possesses.  Where are the guys named Bob, Steve, Mike, or Fred?  You know, like real people . . . 

If you haven't heard enough, here's the website so you can check it out for yourself:  Left Behind All Over Again

Lots to Learn from Reading Obituaries

I'm a creature of habit.  I still read the morning newspaper before I turn on my computer.  And as I read my morning paper, I always take time to read the local obituaries.  There is much to learn, I think, from what people record in public documents when someone they love dies.

Several things are pretty clear.  People in Orange County no longer die.  Instead, they "pass away."  For years, my dear friend, Rod Rosenbladt, has harped on me to stop saying people "pass away" (which was made popular by the likes of Mary Baker Eddy).  Things "pass away" (cf. 2 Peter 3:10) and cease to exist, but people (who have immortal souls) die.  They die because of Adam's sin and the curse.  A few obits still indicate that people "die," but they now "pass away" at a clip ten times greater.

It also strikes me that even in evangelical dominated OC, there are far more Roman Catholic obituaries listed than Protestant ones.  The likely reason for this is that even nominal Roman Catholics will have burial/death rites conducted in their home church, even if the funeral takes place in the local mortuary.  Protestants tend to conduct funerals in mortuaries and at graveside, and will, on occasion, hold memorial services in their churches (but these are not often mentioned in the obituary, even if the burial is).  A nominal Protestant funeral in a local mortuary will not mention a home church--even if there is one.  I have conducted many funerals in local mortuaries and at graveside, but have never done a funeral at Christ Reformed where the deceased's coffin has been brought into the sanctuary for a traditional funeral service before burial.  This situation creates the perception that Roman Catholics have a much closer tie to the local church than Protestant evangelicals do.

Related to the above, I've also noticed that fewer and fewer obituaries make any reference whatsoever to the deceased's church/religious affliation.  There are occasional references to someone's service in their church (one recent obit mentioned that a man had been a deacon in his church for over fifty years!), or to their faith in Christ (in the true evangelical sense), but the practice is far less common than it used to be.  Jews often post a Star of David in the obit, and others post Lodge or other symbols of fraternal organizations.  But you won't see many (if any) Lutheran, Methodist, or Presbyterian denominational symbols.  Often times, the fraternal symbols win out over the religious one (if both church and fraternal organizations are mentioned in the obit).

I often chuckle at what I call the "evangelicalization" of Roman Catholicism in OC.  Many Roman obits refer to the fact that the departed "loved Jesus" and is now in heaven--the person writing the obit apparently forgetting about Limbus Patrum and the need for the departed to "undergo purification" in Purgatory (cf. The Catechism of the Catholic Church, secs. 1030-32).  How can grandma be anything but a saint, right?  But the Roman view requires grandma to spend some time in purification, because she failed to confess to her priest that she said a four-letter word when the Thanksgiving turkey didn't turn out right, that she made a face at her neighbor, and for thinking that some of her grandchildren are obnoxious brats.

One of the sad realities in reading obits is the rapid decline of the so-called "Greatest Generation."  World War Two vets are dying by the score.  We will miss their courage and wisdom.  Our local Medal of Honor recipient (from D-Day) recently died, and the nearby community center named in his honor didn't even bother to lower their flag to half-mast.  I am afraid people younger than I don't know how great these men are, or what they accomplished on their nation's behalf.  Our community will miss them all, greatly.

Finally, all kinds of sappiness and religiosity comes out in obits.  One child opined that "grandma is making heaven a better place."  Another sought comfort in the belief that his father was golfing in heaven with all his buddies, and would finally get his "hole in one."  The worst of the past week's obits was that of an elderly woman, who's family wrote of her, "she passed into the next phase of her energy force," but then went on to mention that her funeral was to be held in an Episcopal church on the east coast.  As loopy as liberal Episcopalians have become, this really should be no surprise.

Reading your local obituaries will go a long way in reminding you of the inescapable fact that "in Adam's fall, sinned we all."  Death and taxes may be inevitable, and both are the consequence of human sin.  Reading obituaries is a good way to understand what people in your neighborhood believe about God and the world, what they regard as important, and how they view life.

Sex, Politics, and the Preacher

 

Debby Applegate's Pulitzer Prize winning biography of Henry Ward Beecher (2006) is well worth reading.  All of the elements that make for a compelling story are here (at least for those who frequent this blog):  a sex scandal and a sensational court trial, the fiery preaching of political activism and social reform, and an open disdain for confessional Reformed theology.  And this, one hundred years before Jim and Tammy and brother Swaggart made the headlines for much the same.  As Yogi Berra aptly put it, "the more things change, the more things stay the same."  There are many echoes of the "evangelical" preacher Henry Ward Beecher in today's evangelicalism.

Beecher was for a time--as the title of the book informs us--the most famous man in America.  The brother of Harriet Beecher Stowe (the author of Uncle Tom's Cabin) and son of famous Congregationalist/tepid Presbyterian preacher Lyman Beecher, as well as an acquaintance of Abraham Lincoln's, Henry Beecher's story is quite remarkable, and sadly, altogether typical of someone who has lost his way--theologically and morally.  Beecher's story plays out during the pre-Civil War years (and beyond) as we witness Beecher's ambivalence about hitching his personal wagon (and his future as a preacher) to the Abolitionist movement. 

In the "how quickly we forget" department, Beecher stands at the formative headwaters of a distinct "evangelical movement" as several evangelical ministers of that era (when relocation to the West was an important opportunity for empire building) sought more and more public prominence (and larger and more influential churches), and in the process, gave up their fading loyalties to the established Protestant denominations and doctrine of Colonial America.  If Henry Ward Beecher was the most famous man of his day, he is surely among the most forgotten of ours.

Several things ought to be mentioned as items of interest.  As for Beecher's disdain for Reformed theology, Applegate describes Lyman Beecher (Henry's father) as an "orthodox Calvinist" (20), teaching his family a religion of fatalism, fear of sin, and a vivid awareness of human corruption (25).  The Beecher's Calvinism was characterized by a stern and rigorous life of family worship, church attendance (including lectures, memorization of the Westminster Confession, and prayer meetings) as well as continuous religious instruction throughout the week (28).  Henry recalls the Lord's Day as the "dreadful day of the week," a day of "thou shalt not, thou shalt not" (35). 

Applegate makes no mention of the role of Christ's cross in any of this, repeatedly describing the family's religious life as one of a joyless, almost fatalistic drudgery, capped off by a constant fear of hell.  If this is an accurate representation of life in the Beecher home, we can hardly wonder why Henry W. rejected the Calvinism of his father, even as his father did later in life.  The Calvinistic "orthodoxy" of Lyman Beecher is suspect to the degree to which law is divorced from Gospel.  There is an important lesson in this, since this form of joyless "Calvinism" sounds very much like the predestinarian moralism identified and repeatedly trounced by Scott Clark.

One especially interesting vignette (208-209) is the account of Henry's ordination examination before a board of congregational ministers, including the famed "liberal" pastor Horace Bushnell of Hartford--who did not believe a word of the Reformed doctrine Henry Beecher was required to define and defend in Bushnell's presence. 

When Henry Beecher was asked about the doctrine of election (the first question in his exam), Beecher answered that he had been so busy trying to "save souls" during his time in Cincinnati, that he had not the time to engage in the spiritual calculus he associated with the doctrine of election and its attending doctrine, reprobation.  Whatever reservations the examiners had (apparently enough that Henry did not sustain the exam), they were outweighed by Henry's personal testimony (no surprise there), and his brother Edward's pleas to reconsider (Edward was also a Congregationalist minister and was present for the exam).  Despite the initial negative vote, Henry was eventually, albeit reluctantly, approved by the examiners.  

The Beecher family had a good laugh about the exam later.  Probably not something to laugh about, but exactly what you would expect of Henry Ward Beecher.

All is all, this is a good read, and certainly might be of interest to many of you (especially those with Amazon gift cards to redeem).

You can find the book here: The Most Famous Man in America

Speaking of the Civil War . . .

How many times have you been reading a text in which the author refers to a famous battle as though you could immediately recall all the details, the outcome, the key figures, and the order of battle?

This website is a great resource when you find yourself needing a quick refresher on Washington's crossing of the Delaware, or how Benedict Arnold outmanoeuvred the British at Saratoga.

History Animated provides very helpful and interesting animations of battles from the Revolutionary War, the War of 1812, the Mexican War, the Civil War and both Atlantic and Pacific theaters of World War Two.

I know, it is for school kids . . .  But it is well done and a good place to kill an hour or two "reviewing." 

Check it out History Animated

Allen Guelzo on the Civil War

It is my contention that every American should know something about the American Civil War.  Ken Burn's wonderful PBS documentary is the place to start, but certainly not the place to finish.  The documentary is visually compelling, but pretty thin on substance.  Besides, if you go no further than the Burn's documentary you cannot advance to Civil War "buff" status.  Those of you familiar with the Seinfeld-Costanza dialogue on this topic will know what I mean.

The Civil War looms large even today.  The war was a national trauma.  The scars remain.  Those who have walked the Antietam battlefield and stood at the end of "bloody lane" can only imagine the carnage which took place there.  Those of you who have been to Gettysburg have seen something of the size and extent of the war's various battles.  The scale (the battlefield covers miles) and huge number of monuments from individual states and their regiments reveal the fact that this was a national war.  Men who likely never left their hometowns before, died in droves in far away Pennsylvania.  The national cemetery (where Lincoln gave his famed address) is a grim reminder of this fact.  

More importantly, the Civil War provides the historical context for virtually all contemporary discussions of race, state's rights, and even economics.  The Civil War gave us several presidents (i.e., Grant, Hays, and Garfield), left us with a more centralized and powerful federal government (for good or ill), gave us some of our greatest heroes (Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain comes to mind, as does Clara Barton), two of our greatest generals (Lee and Jackson), and some of our most controversial figures (i.e., John Brown, Abraham Lincoln) as well as notorious villains (John Wilkes Booth and Nathan Bedford Forrest).

For many years I have recommended James McPherson's Pulitzer Prize winning book on the Civil War, Battle Cry of Freedom (Click Here).  I still recommend it.  It is well written, covers the subject quite well (for a survey), and is especially strong in recapping the War's many brutal and bloody battles.  Everyone should read it.  It will get you started as my own Civil War library will attest.

But Allen Guelzo's new book on the war, Fateful Lightening, is also a must read.  Guelzo gives us a much more wide-ranging survey than does McPherson.  Guelzo's volume is not as strong on the details of battle, but he does something from which the average reader choosing a single volume survey will greatly benefit--a thorough explanation of the causes of the war, an important discussion of the debate during the war over slavery and its future, as well as an important treatment of the turmoil created in the war's aftermath (reconstruction).  

Guelzo writes well, and has a wonderful knack for how much human interest material to include, so as to continually remind the reader that this was a war fought by real folk who underwent tremendous personal suffering and manifested remarkable courage.

If you've seen Ken Burn's PBS documentary and stopped there, press on!  You still need to read Guelzo or McPherson (probably both).  Of the two (and it is a close call), read Guelzo.  You can find it here:  Guelzo on Amazon

From Biblical Metaphor to National Myth

For those of you interested in American church history and/or modern politics in light of the two kingdoms debate, you will certainly profit from Richard Gamble's recent book, In Search of the City on a Hill:  The Making and Unmaking of an American Myth.  You can find Gamble's book on Amazon here.

Gamble discusses in great detail the historical context for John Winthrop's famous 1630 sermon "A Model of Christian Charity" given onboard the Arbella before his group arrived in the New World.  As Gamble points out, near the end of his famous sermon Winthrop used the image of a "city on a hill" (found in Matthew 5:14) in a very conventional and biblical way (as an image of the church's witness and pastoral ministry).  Winthrop intended far less by his use of this metaphor than many have assumed. 

How then did this simple biblical image (as used by Winthrop) become such a powerful and ubiquitous political metaphor (dare I say political "myth") in which America (and American exceptionalism) is now, supposedly, the proper point of reference?  Gamble carefully explains the three hundred year evolution of the biblical metaphor into a uniquely American national myth.  The story may not be pretty to those who care about how Scripture is to be handled and interpreted, but it is certainly interesting nonetheless.

One particularly important point in Gamble's volume is his discussion of the use of the "city on a hill" metaphor by several early Puritans (and folk like Jonathan Edwards).  The "city on a hill" image was invoked as support for the supposed existence of a national covenant between God's chosen people living in America (the church) who served as a light to the world.  It was argued that God's providential purpose for America's founding was similar to Israel's role as God's national covenant people under the old covenant.  Gamble discusses the merits (few) and demerits (many) of this view, and points out that at the time a number of seventeenth contemporaries argued against this misuse of national covenant language.  Israel had a national covenant with God.  America does not.  Nor do Christians living in America then or now!  Being members of the covenant of grace in the midst of the civil kingdom will have to do!

This is an interesting and important book and is highly recommended.

There is a helpful interview with the author here:  Interview with Richard Gamble

A World Without the Fall -- Thomas Kinkade's Take on the World

If you are a fan of the late Thomas Kinkaid's work, there is nothing to see here, so you should move along.

If you are not a fan of Kinkaid (I certainly am not), you might be interested in this essay by Daniel Siedell who lays out a very interesting take on Kinkaid's pre-fallen world and its tie to law without the gospel.  Mike Horton even makes an appearance in the essay.

You can read it here:  Click Here

Horton on Same-Sex Marriage

Mike Horton addresses the question of same sex marriage.  He writes, "how would someone who believes that sin is unhappiness and salvation is having `your best life now' make a good argument against same-sex marriage? There is simply no way of defending traditional marriage within the narrative logic that apparently most Christians—much less non-Christians—presuppose regardless of their position on this issue."

Mike's point is that same-sex marriage is here to stay until the basic narrative changes.  Sin is not "unhappiness" but a violation of God's law.  The gospel is not "your best life now," but the good news that Jesus saves us from our violations of God's law.  If we don't get that right, we can't change the narrative.

You can read the entire essay here.  Click Here

Contemporary Trends in American Religion

White Horse Inn producer Shane Rosenthal was on Issues, Etc. to discuss some of the issues and analysis of contemporary religion in America.

To listen, Click Here

Review of VanDrunen's "Living in God's Two Kingdoms"

Here's the link to a recent review of VanDrunen's outstanding book on the two kingdoms

Review of VanDrunen