I will no longer be using this blog. My new blog, with the same title, is now hosted at Wordpress.com
I hope that you enjoy the new look, and hopefully the new content.
Peace
KC
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Of Course
Look, perhaps I was being an asshole when I responded to the original report that Obama had decided to close Gitmo with skepticism. In fact, I remember specifically saying something incredibly cynical about how on the same day he decided to bomb Afghanistan.
BUT MY SKEPTICISM HAS BEEN PROVED WORTHY!!!
http://www.realclearpolitics.com/articles/2009/05/20/white_house_closing_gitmo_a_hasty_decision_96593.html
"White House Press Secretary Robert Gibbs said closing the detention center at Guantánamo Bay, Cuba, was a 'hasty decision,' in his daily press briefing with reporters."
WHAT? Hasty? You mean, you made that decision to differentiate yourself from your predecessor, but looking back you now realize that you can't possibly pretend to be that different? Or was it hasty because you actually don't care about 'universal human rights'? Or perhaps there is political and economic pressure to continue torturing and imprisoning people? Something you couldn't have foreseen?
I, for one, will continue to call bullshit on American politics and political figures.
BUT MY SKEPTICISM HAS BEEN PROVED WORTHY!!!
http://www.realclearpolitics.com/articles/2009/05/20/white_house_closing_gitmo_a_hasty_decision_96593.html
"White House Press Secretary Robert Gibbs said closing the detention center at Guantánamo Bay, Cuba, was a 'hasty decision,' in his daily press briefing with reporters."
WHAT? Hasty? You mean, you made that decision to differentiate yourself from your predecessor, but looking back you now realize that you can't possibly pretend to be that different? Or was it hasty because you actually don't care about 'universal human rights'? Or perhaps there is political and economic pressure to continue torturing and imprisoning people? Something you couldn't have foreseen?
I, for one, will continue to call bullshit on American politics and political figures.
Friday, May 08, 2009
Truly Radical Christianity?
From Craig Carter's blog:
Apparently Carter was a "Yoderian" (see his book Rethinking Christ and Culture: A Post-Christendom Perspective) before undergoing a conversion to "pre-modern conservatism." Seeing the names he associates his position with, it makes me wonder how much this position has in common with the people at Front Porch Republic, especially this post: Letter from a Traditional Conservative. In this article, a similar argument is made regarding modern (enlightenment) presuppositions about the atomistic individual:
I think this position is often labeld as "agrarianism" or "communitarianism," on such people as Stanley Hauerwas and Wendell Berry (and others like them). I have had a hard time (and I recognize the error in even attempting this) figuring out whether people like Berry and Hauerwas are "liberal" or "conservative." I read one thing and am convinced one way, only to turn the page and be baffled at the apparent juxtaposition of contrary opinions scattered throught their writings. But the difficulty in identifying where they stand on the liberal/conservative spectrum is difficulty precisely because they reject the very categories being used.
I think I will do the same.
"I have come to believe that the only truly radical (getting to the roots) way of being a Christian in late modernity is to embrace a pre-modern conservatism that challenges all forms of liberalism (left liberalism & neo-conservativism alike) by challenging the fundamental, bedrock assumption of modernity common to all strands of modernity and postmodernity, which is the priority of the autonomous self. True conservativism hearkens back to a time before the priority of the autonomous self, a time when family was fundamental, civil society was robust, tradition was sacred and the state was limited. It does not want to go back to that time (which is impossible), but it does want to mine that tradition for resources that can help us rebuild a church that has been decimated by modernity.
What resources does it offer? It offers such treasures as a metaphysics of a universe in motion moved by the love of God (C. S. Lewis, John Milbank), virtue ethics (A. MacIntyre, S. Pinckears), proper confidence in reason's ability to know truth (St. Thomas Aquinas, Benedict XVI) and a way of reading Scripture for its spiritual meaning (H. de Lubac). These are just the examples that come to mind first."
Apparently Carter was a "Yoderian" (see his book Rethinking Christ and Culture: A Post-Christendom Perspective) before undergoing a conversion to "pre-modern conservatism." Seeing the names he associates his position with, it makes me wonder how much this position has in common with the people at Front Porch Republic, especially this post: Letter from a Traditional Conservative. In this article, a similar argument is made regarding modern (enlightenment) presuppositions about the atomistic individual:
Contemporary American-style conservatism and liberalism are merely two faces of that intelligible beast, (Eighteenth Century) Classical Liberalism. Its vision says the substantive unit or entity in politics is strictly the individual, and the freedom of the individual is the primary good after which society and government seek. Since, therefore, the term “society” indicates nothing more than a numerical aggregate of the individuals in a given area, then the only purpose of government must be to defend the potentially infinite number of “private” interests of these loosely gathered individual freedom-maximizers...I have often felt like I don't fit into either of the classic "liberal" or "conservative" camps, and have been reluctant to identify myself with any group. Increasingly, however, I find that my positions tend to be much more firmly rooted in a protest against enlightenment individualism - which can often seem to be closer to the classic "conservative" side. But this new category, whether it is called "Traditional" or "Pre-modern" conservatism, is MUCH closer to what I would consider my own position and (rightly) avoids the mistakes of enlightenment individualism.
They are both simply expressions of the basic tenets of bourgeois classical liberalism. Generally, when someone says, “I’m conservative on some issues and liberal on others,” what he really means is that he is just a more consistent classical liberal than American-style conservatives and liberals, i.e. he has traced out more fully the consequences of the individual as the sole entity in politics and the individual’s protected freedom as its end.
I think this position is often labeld as "agrarianism" or "communitarianism," on such people as Stanley Hauerwas and Wendell Berry (and others like them). I have had a hard time (and I recognize the error in even attempting this) figuring out whether people like Berry and Hauerwas are "liberal" or "conservative." I read one thing and am convinced one way, only to turn the page and be baffled at the apparent juxtaposition of contrary opinions scattered throught their writings. But the difficulty in identifying where they stand on the liberal/conservative spectrum is difficulty precisely because they reject the very categories being used.
I think I will do the same.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Friday, March 06, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Democracy in (North) America
“I think there is no country in the civilized world where they are less occupied with philosophy than the United States.
The Americans have no philosophic school of their own, and they worry very little about all those that divide Europe; they hardly know their names.
It is easy to see, nevertheless, that almost all the inhabitants of the United States direct their minds in the same manner and conduct them by the same rules; that is to say, they possess a certain philosophic method, whose rules they have never taken the trouble to define, that is common to all of them.
To escape from the spirit of system, from the yoke of habits, from family maxims, from class opinions, and, up to a certain point, from national prejudices; to take tradition only as information, and current facts only as a useful study for doing otherwise and better; to seek the reason for things by themselves and in themselves alone, to strive for a result without letting themselves be chained to the means, and to see through the form to the foundation, these are the principal features that characterize what I shall call the philosophic method of the Americans.
If I go still further and seek among these diverse features the principal one that can sum up almost all the others, I discover that in most of the operations of the mind, each American calls only on the individual effort of his reason.
America is therefore the one country in the world where the precepts of Descartes are least studied and best followed. That should not be surprising.
Americans do not read Descartes’ works because their social state turns them away from speculative studies, and they follow his maxims because this same social state naturally disposes their minds to adopt them.
Amidst the continual movement that reigns in the heart of a democratic society, the bond that unites generations is relaxed or broken; each man easily loses track of the ideas of his ancestors or scarcely worries about them.
Men who live in such a society can no longer draw their beliefs from the opinions of the class to which they belong, for there are, so to speak, no longer any classes, and those that still exist are composed of elements that move so much that the body can never exert a genuine power over it members.
As for the action that the intellect of one man can have on another, it necessarily very restricted in a country where citizens, having become nearly the same, all see each other from very close, and, not perceiving in anyone among themselves incontestable signs of greatness and superiority, are constantly led back toward their own reason as the most visible and closest, source of truth. Then not only is trust in such and such a man destroyed but the taste for believing any man whomsoever at his word.
Each therefore withdraws narrowly into himself and claims to judge the world from there.
The American way of taking the rule of their judgment only from themselves leads to other habits of mind.
As they see that they manage to resolve unaided all the little difficulties that practical life presents, they easily conclude that everything in the world is explicable and that nothing exceeds the bounds of intelligence.
Thus they willingly deny what they cannot comprehend.”
Alexis de Tocqueville, 1840.
The Americans have no philosophic school of their own, and they worry very little about all those that divide Europe; they hardly know their names.
It is easy to see, nevertheless, that almost all the inhabitants of the United States direct their minds in the same manner and conduct them by the same rules; that is to say, they possess a certain philosophic method, whose rules they have never taken the trouble to define, that is common to all of them.
To escape from the spirit of system, from the yoke of habits, from family maxims, from class opinions, and, up to a certain point, from national prejudices; to take tradition only as information, and current facts only as a useful study for doing otherwise and better; to seek the reason for things by themselves and in themselves alone, to strive for a result without letting themselves be chained to the means, and to see through the form to the foundation, these are the principal features that characterize what I shall call the philosophic method of the Americans.
If I go still further and seek among these diverse features the principal one that can sum up almost all the others, I discover that in most of the operations of the mind, each American calls only on the individual effort of his reason.
America is therefore the one country in the world where the precepts of Descartes are least studied and best followed. That should not be surprising.
Americans do not read Descartes’ works because their social state turns them away from speculative studies, and they follow his maxims because this same social state naturally disposes their minds to adopt them.
Amidst the continual movement that reigns in the heart of a democratic society, the bond that unites generations is relaxed or broken; each man easily loses track of the ideas of his ancestors or scarcely worries about them.
Men who live in such a society can no longer draw their beliefs from the opinions of the class to which they belong, for there are, so to speak, no longer any classes, and those that still exist are composed of elements that move so much that the body can never exert a genuine power over it members.
As for the action that the intellect of one man can have on another, it necessarily very restricted in a country where citizens, having become nearly the same, all see each other from very close, and, not perceiving in anyone among themselves incontestable signs of greatness and superiority, are constantly led back toward their own reason as the most visible and closest, source of truth. Then not only is trust in such and such a man destroyed but the taste for believing any man whomsoever at his word.
Each therefore withdraws narrowly into himself and claims to judge the world from there.
The American way of taking the rule of their judgment only from themselves leads to other habits of mind.
As they see that they manage to resolve unaided all the little difficulties that practical life presents, they easily conclude that everything in the world is explicable and that nothing exceeds the bounds of intelligence.
Thus they willingly deny what they cannot comprehend.”
Alexis de Tocqueville, 1840.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
The Political Importance of Wednesday
This was published in etcetera on Oct. 28, 2008.
The Political Importance of Wednesday
How can we distinguish between true and false modes of Christian political action? This is the same question that began my article from Sept. 30, and I want to begin again with it today. In that article I was hoping to challenge our assumption that voting is the best or only way to bear faithful witness to Christ during the elections in the United States in 2008. I came to the conclusion that it is neither, and offered the action of non-voting as a better alternative. Today, however, I don’t want to talk about voting - which Ben Amundgaard calls “one of the only opportunities a citizen has to directly alter the position of the government under which he or she must live” – rather, I want to talk about the public and political nature of the church.
We don’t normally talk about the church as being ‘public’ or ‘political’. The reason for this is because those words have been co-opted by the state in order to put the church in its proper place. Unfortunately, that place is no place. “Political action” is voting, running for office, and starting political action committees. The closest the church can get to being “public” is by talking about being “visible”, which usually ends up being nothing more than a discussion about church building funds. “Public” is specifically used in contrast to “private”, which is the only thing the church can be: a place for the private affairs of a dwindling number of nostalgic, self-deluded believers.
I want to reject these distinctions and the implications they lead to. I want to argue that it is the church – the ekklesia – that is the most political entity in God’s creation and, consequently, the most public. However, these words (political and public) must be used on the church’s terms rather than those dictated to us by the state. In his book Political Worship, Bernd Wannenwetsch states: “It should be borne in mind that the church has its own ‘politics’ (and economics), its specific way of dealing with the differences in social life... This means that it enters into a struggle which is certainly not directly ‘political’ (since it does not follow the prevailing political rules) but is primarily a struggle about politics, a struggle for the true form of political existence.” Wannenwetsch goes on, “…the Church has to bring its own form of political praxis into the game, by playing along, but with other rules.”
What are those rules? How many of us have ever considered that most of the rules we live by are actually given to us by the state, not the Gospel of Jesus Christ? The freedom of the gospel allows us to think outside the rules of empire. Why was the term ekklesia used by the early church for self-identification when other concepts were available? Ekklesia, as argued by William Cavanaugh and others, is a particularly political term. To be political was to be involved in the affairs of the polis – the state. They could have self-identified as a guild or an association (koinon or collegium) but opted for a word that denotes a specific stance towards the public life. The choice of ekklesia was a conscience choice to self-identify as the people of the public God who is the Lord of all of life – even the empire. We must recapture this understanding of ekklesia if we will ever be able to engage the state with true political and public worship.
What does it mean to be political? How can we distinguish between true and false modes of Christian political action? I have few answers to these questions but I refuse to begin with the answers of empire. As long as the illusion is perpetuated that says we can divvy up our life into public, private, sacred and secular, it is crucial that the church resists the disintegrating force of the modern political machine driven by propaganda and technique. We must disengage from the dominance of the state – to use the words of Walter Brueggemann – only then to re-engage as Christians to unmask the principalities and powers. The action of disengagement begins with gathering as the ekklesia. After prayer, gathering around the crucified and resurrected Lord is the most significant form of political (public) action we have available to us. And if we don’t engage in these two things with patience, hope, and imagination, we will not be faithful to our call to be the church that resists the world by living the Word. If we can’t understand how praying and gathering are both political and public, then perhaps we should start with that question before simply accepting the imperatives of the state.
Christians in The United States will have the opportunity to engage in some “political” action by voting next Tuesday, but what will we do on Wednesday? If the church is not political on Wednesday then it is not political at all – and there are no elections on Wednesday.
KC Flynn, Oct. 28, 2008
The Political Importance of Wednesday
How can we distinguish between true and false modes of Christian political action? This is the same question that began my article from Sept. 30, and I want to begin again with it today. In that article I was hoping to challenge our assumption that voting is the best or only way to bear faithful witness to Christ during the elections in the United States in 2008. I came to the conclusion that it is neither, and offered the action of non-voting as a better alternative. Today, however, I don’t want to talk about voting - which Ben Amundgaard calls “one of the only opportunities a citizen has to directly alter the position of the government under which he or she must live” – rather, I want to talk about the public and political nature of the church.
We don’t normally talk about the church as being ‘public’ or ‘political’. The reason for this is because those words have been co-opted by the state in order to put the church in its proper place. Unfortunately, that place is no place. “Political action” is voting, running for office, and starting political action committees. The closest the church can get to being “public” is by talking about being “visible”, which usually ends up being nothing more than a discussion about church building funds. “Public” is specifically used in contrast to “private”, which is the only thing the church can be: a place for the private affairs of a dwindling number of nostalgic, self-deluded believers.
I want to reject these distinctions and the implications they lead to. I want to argue that it is the church – the ekklesia – that is the most political entity in God’s creation and, consequently, the most public. However, these words (political and public) must be used on the church’s terms rather than those dictated to us by the state. In his book Political Worship, Bernd Wannenwetsch states: “It should be borne in mind that the church has its own ‘politics’ (and economics), its specific way of dealing with the differences in social life... This means that it enters into a struggle which is certainly not directly ‘political’ (since it does not follow the prevailing political rules) but is primarily a struggle about politics, a struggle for the true form of political existence.” Wannenwetsch goes on, “…the Church has to bring its own form of political praxis into the game, by playing along, but with other rules.”
What are those rules? How many of us have ever considered that most of the rules we live by are actually given to us by the state, not the Gospel of Jesus Christ? The freedom of the gospel allows us to think outside the rules of empire. Why was the term ekklesia used by the early church for self-identification when other concepts were available? Ekklesia, as argued by William Cavanaugh and others, is a particularly political term. To be political was to be involved in the affairs of the polis – the state. They could have self-identified as a guild or an association (koinon or collegium) but opted for a word that denotes a specific stance towards the public life. The choice of ekklesia was a conscience choice to self-identify as the people of the public God who is the Lord of all of life – even the empire. We must recapture this understanding of ekklesia if we will ever be able to engage the state with true political and public worship.
What does it mean to be political? How can we distinguish between true and false modes of Christian political action? I have few answers to these questions but I refuse to begin with the answers of empire. As long as the illusion is perpetuated that says we can divvy up our life into public, private, sacred and secular, it is crucial that the church resists the disintegrating force of the modern political machine driven by propaganda and technique. We must disengage from the dominance of the state – to use the words of Walter Brueggemann – only then to re-engage as Christians to unmask the principalities and powers. The action of disengagement begins with gathering as the ekklesia. After prayer, gathering around the crucified and resurrected Lord is the most significant form of political (public) action we have available to us. And if we don’t engage in these two things with patience, hope, and imagination, we will not be faithful to our call to be the church that resists the world by living the Word. If we can’t understand how praying and gathering are both political and public, then perhaps we should start with that question before simply accepting the imperatives of the state.
Christians in The United States will have the opportunity to engage in some “political” action by voting next Tuesday, but what will we do on Wednesday? If the church is not political on Wednesday then it is not political at all – and there are no elections on Wednesday.
KC Flynn, Oct. 28, 2008
The Sacred Right To Not Vote
This was published in the Sept. 30th edition of etcetera, the weekly newspaper of Regent College.
The art of saying ‘No’ sets us free to follow Jesus.
– Eugene Peterson
How can we distinguish between true and false modes of Christian political action? Is voting compatible with a faithful Christian witness? These questions have been on my mind of late and will likely remain on my mind for the next few months. I assume that most readers are fairly comfortable with their “sacred right to vote.” Further, I assume that my own decision not to vote will immediately cause many of you to disregard anything I have to say – especially about voting. But I must do my part, as we all must, of bearing witness to what I have come to believe is the truth of the matter.
Romans 13 clearly demands subordination to the government. True, but what kind of government did Paul have in mind? Does this count for the writers of the Declaration of Independence, or just for us? What about the underground church in China or Nazi Germany? Is the fact that I am being submissive to the former rebellious colonies of the British Empire problematic, or can I just ignore it because, well, that was a long time ago? I raise this issue to show that submission to governing authorities is far from simplistic. Any argument made on the grounds that I am to be a “good citizen” by voting will not work. Our relationship to the governing authorities must be predicated on a more sturdy foundation, and it is that foundation which I will turn to now.
Paul says that “It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.” This is the foundation on which I want to build my case for non-voting. You may think, “Yes, but this is exactly why we should vote! We are free and should not waste our freedom!” Perhaps. But how free are we when we participate in American democracy?
Jacques Ellul, French sociologist and lay theologian, comments on democracy’s necessity of propaganda: “The moment a democratic regime establishes itself, propaganda establishes itself alongside it under various forms. This is inevitable, as democracy depends on public opinion and competition between political parties. In order to come to power, parties make propaganda to gain voters.” Last election, there was $1 billion spent to persuade people to vote either Republican or Democrat. I would like to believe that this money was donated in goodwill to be used freely at the discretion of the political party in the service of the supreme good of humanity. But I suspect that money had certain promises tied to it, which means that it is not freely used and we are hardly the recipients of that advertising as “free” men and women. The only way we can be free of it is if we choose to ignore it, or better yet, choose to test it rigorously against what we know to be true of the reality of the world.
Jesus tells us about this reality. In Matthew’s gospel Jesus taught his disciples about how to become great: by becoming a slave. The paradox that seems to make the disciples “indignant” is that power comes through weakness and transformation is affected by serving. Unfortunately, political advertising—indeed the whole game of American politics—would have us believe that the President of the United States is the most important person in the world because he or she can bring about “change.” The best you and I can do to affect this change is vote.
So, is voting compatible with a faithful Christian witness? In the current political climate in North America, a climate in which powerful political parties try to convince the masses that it is only through allegiance to them that the future hope of the world is secured, I must say that it is not. The freedom granted to us as Christians is more than just the ability to participate in someone else’s game: as the Church, we participate in the reality of the world by gathering together around the risen Christ. That is reality, no matter what any prime-time political advertisement says.
It is clear to me that the heart of this issue is idolatry. The political climate in North America is one littered with the worship of false gods. We listen to the gods of media to tell us how to see the world, we listen to the gods of politics to tell us how to fix the world, and we listen to the gods of money who tell us how to be fully human (and happy!) in the world. All the while ignoring the one true God who speaks to us in Jesus Christ, showing us the way to live, move, and have our being in the world.
To conclude, I want to argue that the Christian witness of non-voting is a valid option because we have been seduced by the power to change the world through something other than the resurrected Christ. How are we to faithfully bear witness to Christ in this situation? Voting for McCain or Obama will not cut it. In a world telling me that voting is the best way to participate in reality, non-voting is one real way to legitimately say that our hope lies not in man but in the God who has revealed himself in Jesus Christ, the crucified and resurrected Lord of all. One way (and not the only way, to be sure) to do this is by saying “No!” to worshiping at the altar of the voting booth in November.
KC Flynn, Sept. 30, 2008
The art of saying ‘No’ sets us free to follow Jesus.
– Eugene Peterson
How can we distinguish between true and false modes of Christian political action? Is voting compatible with a faithful Christian witness? These questions have been on my mind of late and will likely remain on my mind for the next few months. I assume that most readers are fairly comfortable with their “sacred right to vote.” Further, I assume that my own decision not to vote will immediately cause many of you to disregard anything I have to say – especially about voting. But I must do my part, as we all must, of bearing witness to what I have come to believe is the truth of the matter.
Romans 13 clearly demands subordination to the government. True, but what kind of government did Paul have in mind? Does this count for the writers of the Declaration of Independence, or just for us? What about the underground church in China or Nazi Germany? Is the fact that I am being submissive to the former rebellious colonies of the British Empire problematic, or can I just ignore it because, well, that was a long time ago? I raise this issue to show that submission to governing authorities is far from simplistic. Any argument made on the grounds that I am to be a “good citizen” by voting will not work. Our relationship to the governing authorities must be predicated on a more sturdy foundation, and it is that foundation which I will turn to now.
Paul says that “It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.” This is the foundation on which I want to build my case for non-voting. You may think, “Yes, but this is exactly why we should vote! We are free and should not waste our freedom!” Perhaps. But how free are we when we participate in American democracy?
Jacques Ellul, French sociologist and lay theologian, comments on democracy’s necessity of propaganda: “The moment a democratic regime establishes itself, propaganda establishes itself alongside it under various forms. This is inevitable, as democracy depends on public opinion and competition between political parties. In order to come to power, parties make propaganda to gain voters.” Last election, there was $1 billion spent to persuade people to vote either Republican or Democrat. I would like to believe that this money was donated in goodwill to be used freely at the discretion of the political party in the service of the supreme good of humanity. But I suspect that money had certain promises tied to it, which means that it is not freely used and we are hardly the recipients of that advertising as “free” men and women. The only way we can be free of it is if we choose to ignore it, or better yet, choose to test it rigorously against what we know to be true of the reality of the world.
Jesus tells us about this reality. In Matthew’s gospel Jesus taught his disciples about how to become great: by becoming a slave. The paradox that seems to make the disciples “indignant” is that power comes through weakness and transformation is affected by serving. Unfortunately, political advertising—indeed the whole game of American politics—would have us believe that the President of the United States is the most important person in the world because he or she can bring about “change.” The best you and I can do to affect this change is vote.
So, is voting compatible with a faithful Christian witness? In the current political climate in North America, a climate in which powerful political parties try to convince the masses that it is only through allegiance to them that the future hope of the world is secured, I must say that it is not. The freedom granted to us as Christians is more than just the ability to participate in someone else’s game: as the Church, we participate in the reality of the world by gathering together around the risen Christ. That is reality, no matter what any prime-time political advertisement says.
It is clear to me that the heart of this issue is idolatry. The political climate in North America is one littered with the worship of false gods. We listen to the gods of media to tell us how to see the world, we listen to the gods of politics to tell us how to fix the world, and we listen to the gods of money who tell us how to be fully human (and happy!) in the world. All the while ignoring the one true God who speaks to us in Jesus Christ, showing us the way to live, move, and have our being in the world.
To conclude, I want to argue that the Christian witness of non-voting is a valid option because we have been seduced by the power to change the world through something other than the resurrected Christ. How are we to faithfully bear witness to Christ in this situation? Voting for McCain or Obama will not cut it. In a world telling me that voting is the best way to participate in reality, non-voting is one real way to legitimately say that our hope lies not in man but in the God who has revealed himself in Jesus Christ, the crucified and resurrected Lord of all. One way (and not the only way, to be sure) to do this is by saying “No!” to worshiping at the altar of the voting booth in November.
KC Flynn, Sept. 30, 2008
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