The Honor Of God

I made passing mention in my book Got Grace? the popularity of the “prosperity gospel” made recently famous with the incredible success of Bruce Wilkinson’s “The Prayer of Jabez” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Prayer_of_Jabez, among others.

Ross Douthat has an interesting response to the health & wealth gospel which he calls it the “Osteen-Schori vision of God.”:  

From Jody Bottum’s very fine essay on American Protestantism in the latest First Things, a brief analysis of the theology of Katherine Jefferts Schori, presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church:

To be saved, we need only to realize that God already loves us, just the way we are, Schori wrote in her 2006 book, A Wing and a Prayer. She’s not exactly wrong about God’s love, but, in Schori’s happy soteriology, such love demands from us no personal ­reformation, no individual guilt, no particular penance, and no precise dogma. All we have to do, to prove the redemption we already have, is support the political causes she approves. The mission of the church is to show forth God’s love by demanding inclusion and social justice. She often points to the United Nations as an example of God’s work in the world, and when she talks about the mission of the Episcopal Church, she typically identifies it with the U.N.’s Millennium Development Goals … Her Yahweh, in other words, is a blend of Norman Vincent Peale and Dag Hammarskjöld.

The Norman Vincent Peale bit, I think, is particularly telling, because it gets at something that I think is often missed about the current religious landscape: Namely, the extent to which Schori’s theological premises are shared across the culture-war divide, by Christians who oppose gay marriage and abortion and voted eagerly for George W. Bush as well as by liberal Protestants who consider the contemporary GOP an abomination. Peale’s heirs occupy the pulpits of what remains of the Protestant mainline, but they preach from the dais at numerous evangelical megachurches as well. The people who read Joel Osteen and Joyce Meyer and The Prayer of Jabez may be more politically conservative then the people who read A Wing and a Prayer, and read certain passages of Genesis and Leviticus more literally, but the theology they’re imbibing is roughly the same sort of therapeutic mush. Indeed, the big difference between the prosperity gospel that Osteen and his ilk are peddling and Schori’s liberal Episcopalianism has less to do with any theological principle and more to do with what aspect of American life they want God to validate. And this difference, I suspect, has a great deal to do with social class. Osteen and Co.’s God wants us to pursue financial fulfillment because they’re largely preaching to entrepreneurial, upwardly-mobile members of the middle class, whereas Schori’s God wants us to pursue a more personal fulfillment - sexually, emotionally, philanthropically - because she’s preaching to a demographic that, financially speaking, has already got it made. (Which, in turn, is why it isn’t a surprise that as American evangelicals grow more prosperous, they’re starting to discover their God’s Dag Hammarskjöld side as well.)

Obviously the world of religious conservatism also includes lots of people who are invested in actual Christian orthodoxy, as opposed to the Osteen-Shori vision of God as a really powerful life coach. But the theological continuum that encompasses both Schori-style liberal Protestants and Oprah-watching, The Secret-reading spiritual seekers - call it moralistic therapeutic deism, call it gnosticism, call it the American heresy - extends way deeper into the “religious right” than a lot of people think.   http://rossdouthat.theatlantic.com/archives/2008/07/the_american_heresy.php

As everyone knows, there has been a recent spate of books attacking Christian belief and religion in general. Some of these books are little more than screeds, long on vituperation but short on reasoning, long on name-calling but short on competence, long on righteous indignation but short on good sense; for the most part they are driven by hatred rather than logic. Of course there are others that are intellectually more respectable—for example Walter Sinnott-Armstrong’s contribution to God? A Debate Between a Christian and an Atheist¹ and Michael Tooley’s contribution to Knowledge of God.² Nearly all of these books have been written by philosophical naturalists. I believe it’s extremely important to see that naturalism itself, despite the smug and arrogant tone of the so-called New Atheists, is in very serious philosophical hot water: one can’t sensibly believe it.

Naturalism is the idea that there is no such person as God or anything like God; we might think of it as high-octane atheism or perhaps atheism-plus. It is possible to be an atheist without rising to the lofty heights (or descending to the murky depths) of naturalism. Aristotle, the ancient Stoics, and Hegel (in at least certain stages) could properly claim to be atheists, but they couldn’t properly claim to be naturalists: each endorses something (Aristotle’s Prime Mover, the Stoics’ Nous, Hegel’s Absolute) no self-respecting naturalist could tolerate.

These days naturalism is extremely fashionable in the academy; some say it is contemporary academic orthodoxy. Given the vogue for various forms of postmodern anti-realism and relativism, that may be a bit strong. Still, naturalism is certainly widespread, and it is set forth in such recent popular books as Richard Dawkins’ The Blind Watchmaker, Daniel Dennett’s Darwin’s Dangerous Idea, and many others. Naturalists like to wrap themselves in the mantle of science, as if science in some way supports, endorses, underwrites, implies, or anyway is unusually friendly to naturalism. In particular, they often appeal to the modern theory of evolution as a reason for embracing naturalism; indeed, the subtitle of Dawkins’ Watchmaker is Why the Evidence of Evolution Reveals a Universe Without Design. Many seem to think that evolution is one of the pillars in the temple of naturalism (and “temple” is the right word: contemporary naturalism has certainly taken on a religious cast, with a secular priesthood as zealous to stamp out opposing views as any mullah). I propose to argue that naturalism and evolution are in conflict with each other.

I said naturalism is in philosophical hot water; this is true on several counts, but here I want to concentrate on just one—one connected with the thought that evolution supports or endorses or is in some way evidence for naturalism. As I see it, this is a whopping error: evolution and naturalism are not merely uneasy bedfellows; they are more like belligerent combatants. One can’t rationally accept both evolution and naturalism; one can’t rationally be an evolutionary naturalist. The problem, as several thinkers (C. S. Lewis, for example) have seen, is that naturalism, or evolutionary naturalism, seems to lead to a deep and pervasive skepticism. It leads to the conclusion that our cognitive or belief-producing faculties—memory, perception, logical insight, etc.—are unreliable and cannot be trusted to produce a preponderance of true beliefs over false. Darwin himself had worries along these lines: “With me,” says Darwin, “the horrid doubt always arises whether the convictions of man’s mind, which has been developed from the mind of the lower animals, are of any value or at all trustworthy. Would any one trust in the convictions of a monkey’s mind, if there are any convictions in such a mind?”³

Clearly this doubt arises for naturalists or atheists, but not for those who believe in God. That is because if God has created us in his image, then even if he fashioned us by some evolutionary means, he would presumably want us to resemble him in being able to know; but then most of what we believe might be true even if our minds have developed from those of the lower animals. On the other hand, there is a real problem here for the evolutionary naturalist. Richard Dawkins once claimed that evolution made it possible to be an intellectually fulfilled atheist. I believe he is dead wrong: I don’t think it’s possible at all to be an intellectually fulfilled atheist; but in any event you can’t rationally accept both evolution and naturalism.

Why not? How does the argument go?⁴ The first thing to see is that naturalists are also always or almost always materialists: they think human beings are material objects, with no immaterial or spiritual soul, or self. We just are our bodies, or perhaps some part of our bodies, such as our nervous systems, or brains, or perhaps part of our brains (the right or left hemisphere, for example), or perhaps some still smaller part. So let’s think of naturalism as including materialism.⁵ And now let’s think about beliefs from a materialist perspective. According to materialists, beliefs, along with the rest of mental life, are caused or determined by neurophysiology, by what goes on in the brain and nervous system. Neurophysiology, furthermore, also causes behavior. According to the usual story, electrical signals proceed via afferent nerves from the sense organs to the brain; there some processing goes on; then electrical impulses go via efferent nerves from the brain to other organs including muscles; in response to these signals, certain muscles contract, thus causing movement and behavior.

Now what evolution tells us (supposing it tells us the truth) is that our behavior, (perhaps more exactly the behavior of our ancestors) is adaptive; since the members of our species have survived and reproduced, the behavior of our ancestors was conducive, in their environment, to survival and reproduction. Therefore the neurophysiology that caused that behavior was also adaptive; we can sensibly suppose that it is still adaptive. What evolution tells us, therefore, is that our kind of neurophysiology promotes or causes adaptive behavior, the kind of behavior that issues in survival and reproduction.

Now this same neurophysiology, according to the materialist, also causes belief. But while evolution, natural selection, rewards adaptive behavior (rewards it with survival and reproduction) and penalizes maladaptive behavior, it doesn’t, as such, care a fig about true belief. As Francis Crick, the co-discoverer of the genetic code, writes in The Astonishing Hypothesis, “Our highly developed brains, after all, were not evolved under the pressure of discovering scientific truth, but only to enable us to be clever enough to survive and leave descendents.” Taking up this theme, naturalist philosopher Patricia Churchland declares that the most important thing about the human brain is that it has evolved; hence, she says, its principal function is to enable the organism to move appropriately:

Boiled down to essentials, a nervous system enables the organism to succeed in the four F’s: feeding, fleeing, fighting and reproducing. The principal chore of nervous systems is to get the body parts where they should be in order that the organism may survive … . Improvements in sensorimotor control confer an evolutionary advantage: a fancier style of representing is advantageous so long as it is geared to the organism’s way of life and enhances the organism’s chances of survival [Churchland’s emphasis]. Truth, whatever that is, definitely takes the hindmost.⁶

What she means is that natural selection doesn’t care about the truth or falsehood of your beliefs; it cares only about adaptive behavior. Your beliefs may all be false, ridiculously false; if your behavior is adaptive, you will survive and reproduce. Consider a frog sitting on a lily pad. A fly passes by; the frog flicks out its tongue to capture it. Perhaps the neurophysiology that causes it to do so, also causes beliefs. As far as survival and reproduction is concerned, it won’t matter at all what these beliefs are: if that adaptive neurophysiology causes true belief (e.g., those little black things are good to eat), fine. But if it causes false belief (e.g., if I catch the right one, I’ll turn into a prince), that’s fine too. Indeed, the neurophysiology in question might cause beliefs that have nothing to do with the creature’s current circumstances (as in the case of our dreams); that’s also fine, as long as the neurophysiology causes adaptive behavior. All that really matters, as far as survival and reproduction is concerned, is that the neurophysiology cause the right kind of behavior; whether it also causes true belief (rather than false belief) is irrelevant.

Read the article at http://www.christianitytoday.com/bc/2008/004/11.37.html

Since the beginning of philosophical speculation, there has been controversy over the existence of God or gods. Among the Pre-Socratics, Democritus denied all deity and affirmed a materialist philosophy of atoms in the void, and nothing more. Other early metaphysicians discerned traces of the divine in the natural world. For Heraclitus, beyond the perpetual flux lay the mysterious Logos, which provided order and a kind of moral ecosystem for the world. Anaxagorus attributed the order of nature to something immaterial, Nous (Mind). Although the Pre-Socratic philosophies were inchoate and their theologies (or a-theologies) were metaphysically minimal, we find in them the first philosophical debate over whether anything transcends the natural world.¹

The debates have continued ever since. Atheism gained ground philosophically and culturally in the West, especially after the Enlightenment. However, atheism has been losing ground in recent decades due to the rise of academically rigorous philosophical defenses of theism and critiques of atheism from luminaries such as Alvin Plantinga, Richard Swinburne, William Alston, William Lane Craig, J. P. Moreland, and others. The publication in 2004 of Sam Harris’ pugnacious and polemical The End of Faith catalyzed a brand of atheism that didn’t so much refute theism at its philosophical best but rather condemned religion in toto.

The Twilight of Atheism was written by the prolific Oxford theologian Alister McGrath, just before the rise of the New Atheism. Instead of looking at the intellectual reasons that atheism might be in decline, McGrath focuses on cultural and historical forces. McGrath writes in a graceful and knowledgeable manner, but he is unphilosophical in his approach to the debates between atheism and Christianity. While we should not expect a historical theologian to glean every nuance from technical philosophical debates, McGrath fails to explain or assess any of the pertinent philosophical issues regarding the existence or nonexistence of the deity. Instead he surveys the intellectual and cultural climates that led to the rise of atheism, from the Enlightenment until its recent twilight. (The book lacks footnotes or endnotes. Instead there is a long list of “works consulted” at the end of the volume.)

McGrath claims that much of the atheism of the Enlightenment was more a rejection of corruption in the church than anything else. He argues that Enlightenment rationalism and secularism seem to be in crisis for various sociological and historical reasons; the pluralistic conditions of postmodernity are breaking down the hegemony of unbelief as the only rational approach to life. However, many readers, especially those with more than a passing interest in philosophy, will be left wondering whether these trends away from atheism and toward theism are intellectually justifiable. That is, what are the best arguments for and against God’s existence both today and in Western history?

On this, The Twilight of Atheism has next to nothing to say. Indeed, McGrath injudiciously asserts that philosophical argument for and against God’s existence has “ground to a halt.” If he means that philosophers have reached no consensus as to the rational status of arguments for God’s existence, he is surely right. But then philosophers seldom reach consensus on anything, especially the great matters of metaphysics. This is no reason to conclude that these debates are dead.

If McGrath means that new lines of inquiry on the existence of God have failed to emerge in recent decades, he is also mistaken. In a long and distinguished line of books defending natural theology, Richard Swinburne has shifted theistic arguments from deductive forms to inductive forms using sophisticated probability reasoning not previously employed in metaphysical arguments. Alvin Plantinga’s modal version of the ontological argument (using the semantics of possible worlds) has breathed new life into an ancient and alluring argument first invented by Anselm and subsequently advanced by a who’s who of philosophers. In the last thirty years, William Lane Craig has revived and repeatedly defended—both in popular and academic settings—an even older theistic argument, based on the impossibility of the universe having an infinite past (as I will discuss below).

By summarily affirming methodological naturalism in his chapter on the “warfare” between science and religion, McGrath also ignores the significant challenge to naturalism (and boost for theism) posed by the Intelligent Design movement, which claims that certain features of nature are explained better by intelligence than by merely material causes. While the Intelligent Design movement is more a critique of naturalism in science than a positive program of natural theology, its method of design detection contributes significantly to the design argument for God’s existence. But McGrath is silent about all of this.

Nor does The Twilight of Atheism have anything to say about the rise of the Society of Christian Philosophers and the significant impact made by Christian philosophers in the academy in the last thirty years. Yet the book offers an entire chapter recounting the dysfunctional machinations of famed atheist Madelyn Murray O’Hair and her fractious disciples—events having little to do with the intellectual issues at hand.

When McGrath does deal with the rational assessment of natural theology, he says nothing more than that God’s existence cannot be proved, since faith is required for Christian belief.² Having dismissed all progress in theistic arguments, McGrath claims that belief in God is determined more by the imagination than by rational argument. The role of imagination in religious belief cannot be disputed nor should it be avoided, but as Pascal warned in a memorable fragment in his Pensées, imagination can often lead us astray when untethered from knowledge. Some of the best apologetics invoke the imagination liberally (think of C. S. Lewis and G. K. Chesterton), but the imagination must illustrate and amplify what reason declares. If reason cannot decisively inform the debate between theism and atheism, then one wonders how a Christian can claim to have any knowledge (justified true belief) about the object of supreme significance (God).

The Twilight of Atheism gives a diagnosis that the patient (atheism) is failing, but offers no philosophical argument as to why the patient should be failing. It claims only that, philosophical arguments for God having petered out, we need a new infusion of religious imagination to do the job. As such, it does little to advance the great debate one way or the other.

Read the article at http://www.christianitytoday.com/bc/2008/004/12.39.html

Reading 1
Jer 14:17-22

Let my eyes stream with tears
day and night, without rest,
Over the great destruction which overwhelms
the virgin daughter of my people,
over her incurable wound.
If I walk out into the field,
look! those slain by the sword;
If I enter the city,
look! those consumed by hunger.
Even the prophet and the priest
forage in a land they know not.

Have you cast Judah off completely?
Is Zion loathsome to you?
Why have you struck us a blow
that cannot be healed?
We wait for peace, to no avail;
for a time of healing, but terror comes instead.
We recognize, O LORD, our wickedness,
the guilt of our fathers;
that we have sinned against you.
For your name’s sake spurn us not,
disgrace not the throne of your glory;
remember your covenant with us, and break it not.
Among the nations’ idols is there any that gives rain?
Or can the mere heavens send showers?
Is it not you alone, O LORD,
our God, to whom we look?
You alone have done all these things.

Responsorial Psalm
Ps 79:8, 9, 11 and 13

R. (9) For the glory of your name, O Lord, deliver us.
Remember not against us the iniquities of the past;
may your compassion quickly come to us,
for we are brought very low.
R. For the glory of your name, O Lord, deliver us.
Help us, O God our savior,
because of the glory of your name;
Deliver us and pardon our sins
for your name’s sake.
R. For the glory of your name, O Lord, deliver us.
Let the prisoners’ sighing come before you;
with your great power free those doomed to death.
Then we, your people and the sheep of your pasture,
will give thanks to you forever;
through all generations we will declare your praise.
R. For the glory of your name, O Lord, deliver us.

Gospel
Jn 11:19-27

Many of the Jews had come to Martha and Mary
to comfort them about their brother [Lazarus, who had died].
When Martha heard that Jesus was coming,
she went to meet him;
but Mary sat at home.
Martha said to Jesus,
“Lord, if you had been here,
my brother would not have died.
But even now I know that whatever you ask of God,
God will give you.”
Jesus said to her,
“Your brother will rise.”
Martha said to him,
“I know he will rise,
in the resurrection on the last day.”
Jesus told her,
“I am the resurrection and the life;
whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live,
and anyone who lives and believes in me will never die.
Do you believe this?”
She said to him, “Yes, Lord.
I have come to believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God,
the one who is coming into the world.”
or

Lk 10:38-42

Jesus entered a village
where a woman whose name was Martha welcomed him.
She had a sister named Mary
who sat beside the Lord at his feet listening to him speak.
Martha, burdened with much serving, came to him and said,
“Lord, do you not care
that my sister has left me by myself to do the serving?
Tell her to help me.”
The Lord said to her in reply,
“Martha, Martha, you are anxious and worried about many things.
There is need of only one thing.
Mary has chosen the better part
and it will not be taken from her.”

Lectionary for Mass for Use in the Dioceses of the United States, second typical edition, Copyright © 2001, 1998, 1997, 1986, 1970 Confraternity of Christian Doctrine; Psalm refrain © 1968, 1981, 1997, International Committee on English in the Liturgy, Inc. All rights reserved.

“Is it not You alone, O LORD, our God, to Whom we look?… Help us, O God our savior, because of the glory of Your Name…. The Son of Man will send His angels, and they will collect out of His Kingdom all who cause others to sin and all evildoers.”

In addition to the crisis of foreign invasion, chapter 14 of the book of Jeremiah recounts the catastrophe of a great famine. Droughts and food shortages were common from time to time throughout the ancient world, but the prophet bewails the effects of a famine which was evidently quite severe, and particularly bad-timed, coinciding as it did with grave military threats.

Read all of chapter 14 to get the complete picture: false prophets were promising that no famine or war would come, even in spite of the people’s sinfulness. But Jeremiah and the true prophets had announced that the Word of the Lord had foreseen the coming of these adversities because of the people’s iniquities.

And come they did! The people were faced with the unmasked reality of the fruits of their wickedness. Drought is so visibly awful, when life-giving water is dried up, and food sources quickly become scarce. We can recall the Lord’s complaint voiced in Jeremiah 2:13 that “Two evils have My people done: they have forsaken Me, the source of living waters; They have dug themselves cisterns, broken cisterns, that hold no water!” So now, the people physically experience the famine which parallels the spiritual dryness their sins have caused.

For two decades, Stanford University physicist Leonard Susskind battled cosmologist Stephen Hawking over the behavior of black holes. Hawking said that when black holes eat their fill, they disappear, taking with them everything they consumed over their billions of years of existence. Susskind found this idea so disturbing that he publicly declared war — a conflict he describes in his new book, “The Black Hole War.” In a conversation before a recent appearance at the Los Angeles Public Library, Susskind recounted his long struggle to “make the world safe for quantum mechanics.”

How did this war with Stephen Hawking come about?
 was a particle physicist when I was invited to an event at Werner Erhard’s house in 1981. Erhard [founder of the est self-awareness movement] admired scientists and liked to listen to them debate. At one of his events, I met Stephen Hawking. Stephen discovered an amazing fact, which is that black holes evaporate. It’s like a puddle of water out in the sun.

OK.

So the question is, What happens to the information trapped in the black hole? Stephen said it was lost forever. Stephen didn’t just say it, he proved it. At least he convinced himself and everybody else mathematically that it was true.

And you felt that was wrong.

It violates one of the fundamental principles of physics, which says nothing is ever lost completely. You may say, “How can you say information isn’t lost? I can erase information on my computer.” But every time a bit of information is erased, we know it doesn’t disappear. It goes out into the environment. It may be horribly scrambled and confused, but it never really gets lost. It’s just converted into a different form.

In your book, you compare Stephen Hawking to the White Whale and yourself to Ahab.

I obsessed over this. This was never a matter of personal animosity. But he couldn’t see how damaging this would be to the rest of physics. And he didn’t see what a great resolution might come out of it if thought about in the right way. I love the man, but I wanted to grab him by the neck and shake him a little bit. Stephen would just smile and say, “I’m right and you’re wrong.”

That’s a pretty heady debate for someone who started out as a plumber.

I was from a poor Jewish family in the South Bronx. My father was a plumber, but when I was 16 he got sick and I had to take over. Being a plumber in the South Bronx wasn’t fun.

When did physics come along?

I was going to engineering school but fell in love with physics. When I told my father I wanted to be a physicist, he said, “Hell, no, you ain’t going to work in a drugstore.” I said, No, not a pharmacist. I said, “Like Einstein.” He poked me in the chest with a piece of plumbing pipe. “You ain’t going to be no engineer,” he said. “You’re going to be Einstein.”

What is the great resolution you referred to?

One result is something called Black Hole Complementarity. Let’s say Alice falls into a black hole while Bob stays on the outside and watches. Nothing drastic happens to her when she crosses the event horizon [the point of no return around a black hole]. Of course she’s eventually going to get it. On the other hand, there is another picture of the black hole, where every bit of information that you throw onto the horizon of a black hole gets sort of stuck on the horizon and builds up a soup of information bits. And this soup is hot, about a 100 billion billion billion degrees.

So Alice would get burned up?

We have a dilemma. One theory, based on general relativity, simply says Alice just floats past the horizon. That would be Alice’s view of things. But Bob’s view of things, if he believes in quantum mechanics, is that Alice falls into this soup of hot bits and her molecules are ripped apart. So, which one is correct? Alice can’t both be killed at the horizon and not killed at the horizon. The answer is they are both correct.

How can that be?

These two ideas are not in conflict because to be in conflict, there has to be a contradiction. Well, nobody can see a contradiction for the simple reason that nobody can send a message from the inside of a black hole. Alice can’t send a message saying, “Bob, I’m OK, don’t worry about me,” because the message can’t get out of the black hole. Yet everything Bob sees is consistent with saying that Alice was thermalized.

It’s difficult to see how both can be true.

We’ve had these things before in Einstein’s thought experiments. Einstein, in the special theory of relativity, proved that different observers, in different states of motion, see different realities.

There’s another strange theory that’s come out of this battle, isn’t there?

Yes, the Holographic Principle. A hologram is a two-dimensional sheet, such as film, which codes three-dimensional information. A simple way to say it is that the black hole horizon is like a hologram. The horizon of the black hole is like the film, and the image is the stuff that falls into the black hole. It’s extremely unintuitive. According to this theory, the exact description of a region of space — no matter how big — is like a film on the boundary, where complicated and extremely scrambled versions of that space are going on. So in that sense, the universe is like a hologram.

Stephen now agrees that the information is not lost when a black hole evaporates.

Yes, he’s seen the light. When he sees the light, he’s very magnanimous.

[Susskind pointed to a page in his book, where a concession letter from Hawking is printed.]

Are there are any evaporating black holes in our region of the universe?

No. They are all accreting [still eating]. Black holes are much, much colder than their surroundings in space. That means heat flows from the surrounding space into the black hole. If we wait for a long, long time, the universe will expand, it’ll cool, and eventually empty space will become colder than the black holes. When that happens, they will start to evaporate. But don’t hold your breath.

A review of God and Gold: Britain, America, and the Making of the Modern World, by Walter Russell Mead

In his new book, God and Gold, foreign affairs expert Walter Russell Mead argues that modern world history can be understood as the global application of a system of economics, religion, and culture developed and directed by the English-speaking peoples. From the time of Oliver Cromwell to the present, the British and the Americans, either individually or together, have won every major war, and have established a commercial and military dominance that remains the foundation of the modern world. “It is perhaps bad manners to say so,” Mead acknowledges, “but that does not make it less true.”

Mead addresses six questions which he believes can help us better understand and handle the problems and dangers that confront America today:

(1) What exactly is the agenda of the Anglo-Americans?
(2) Why have they been so consistently successful in their military and economic conflicts with other nations?
(3) How did they manage to build a global order?
(4) Why have they so frequently believed that their successes were about to give rise to a world of peace and prosperity?
(5) Why have they been wrong every single time?
(6) What is the meaning, significance, and future, of Anglo-American power?

As Mead confronts these questions, we find that the strengths of his book include his authoritative mastery of historical, political, and economic facts, which he uses liberally to support his argument, and his ability to weave together cultural, religious, economic, and political strands of history into a fascinating, coherent synthesis. Its weaknesses include a sometimes overbearing repetitiveness of key points and a rather unsatisfying response to the major contemporary criticisms of Anglo-American culture in the end. Nonetheless, the book is a very worthwhile read, both for its historical sweep and—most importantly—for Mead’s lucid and useful suggestions regarding the future of American foreign policy.

http://www.claremont.org/publications/pubid.764/pub_detail.asp

Reading 1
Jer 13:1-11

The LORD said to me: Go buy yourself a linen loincloth;
wear it on your loins, but do not put it in water.
I bought the loincloth, as the LORD commanded, and put it on.
A second time the word of the LORD came to me thus:
Take the loincloth which you bought and are wearing,
and go now to the Parath;
there hide it in a cleft of the rock.
Obedient to the LORD’s command, I went to the Parath
and buried the loincloth.
After a long interval, the LORD said to me:
Go now to the Parath and fetch the loincloth
which I told you to hide there.
Again I went to the Parath, sought out and took the loincloth
from the place where I had hid it.
But it was rotted, good for nothing!
Then the message came to me from the LORD:
Thus says the LORD:
So also I will allow the pride of Judah to rot,
the great pride of Jerusalem.
This wicked people who refuse to obey my words,
who walk in the stubbornness of their hearts,
and follow strange gods to serve and adore them,
shall be like this loincloth which is good for nothing.
For, as close as the loincloth clings to a man’s loins,
so had I made the whole house of Israel
and the whole house of Judah cling to me, says the LORD;
to be my people, my renown, my praise, my beauty.
But they did not listen.

Responsorial Psalm
Deuteronomy 32:18-19, 20, 21

R. (see 18a) You have forgotten God who gave you birth.
You were unmindful of the Rock that begot you,
You forgot the God who gave you birth.
When the LORD saw this, he was filled with loathing
and anger toward his sons and daughters.
R. You have forgotten God who gave you birth.
“I will hide my face from them,” he said,
“and see what will then become of them.
What a fickle race they are,
sons with no loyalty in them!”
R. You have forgotten God who gave you birth.
“Since they have provoked me with their ‘no-god’
and angered me with their vain idols,
I will provoke them with a ‘no-people’;
with a foolish nation I will anger them.”
R. You have forgotten God who gave you birth.

Gospel
Mt 13:31-35

Jesus proposed a parable to the crowds.
“The Kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed
that a person took and sowed in a field.
It is the smallest of all the seeds,
yet when full-grown it is the largest of plants.
It becomes a large bush,
and the ‘birds of the sky come and dwell in its branches.’”

He spoke to them another parable.
“The Kingdom of heaven is like yeast
that a woman took and mixed with three measures of wheat flour
until the whole batch was leavened.”

All these things Jesus spoke to the crowds in parables.
He spoke to them only in parables,
to fulfill what had been said through the prophet:

I will open my mouth in parables,
I will announce what has lain hidden from the foundation
of the world.

Lectionary for Mass for Use in the Dioceses of the United States, second typical edition, Copyright © 2001, 1998, 1997, 1986, 1970 Confraternity of Christian Doctrine; Psalm refrain © 1968, 1981, 1997, International Committee on English in the Liturgy, Inc. All rights reserved.

Jesus is present and working in our world.

At times I look at all the sin, the evil and suffering in the world and ask: How can Christianity survive in such a world? Is there any power present there that can overcome these forces? Is Jesus really present and working in this world of ours?

I find the answer to my questions in the gospels: things may not appear to be going right, but the small seed of the kingdom is always growing, the yeast is always working, if I have the eyes of faith to see and believe.

I pray for the grace to play my part in proclaiming the kingdom of God, no matter how great the forces acting against me are, or how small my part appears to be.