I have been blissfully disconnected from the talking-head broadcasts on television and radio for nine years now.  Ironically, my departure from that circus maximus was the evening of George Bush’s State of the Union address in the aftermath of 9/11, during which I stood up and cursed at the television, expressing my extreme dismay at the President’s belligerent words “Axis of Evil.”  I do still get a sense of the latest events and political shenanigans by virtue of the select few websites I frequent, so I am aware of the current outrage over the proposal for construction of a mosque near Ground Zero.  The whole affair grieves me, but not for the reasons I’ve seen cited in the press.

I suppose it could be debated whether the ground is hallowed or sacred, as some talking-heads (including Pat Buchanan, with whom I often find myself in agreement) have asserted.  I haven’t viewed the inappropriateness of such a proposal in those terms.  It’s not a violation of sacred ground, but it is a gesture of religious fortitude, something increasingly alien in this so-called Christian country.  My grief isn’t over what some bold Muslims or Islamophiles have proposed, but over what the country of my birth obviously lacks in grounds for protest.  We object to a symbol of religious fortitude being planted in New York City because it brings up painful memories of a time nine years ago when radical advocates of that religion took down symbols of our religion, the deracinated gods of wealth and power.  And we baptize the land upon which those secular symbols stood with terms like hallowed and sacred.

What was our national response to the events of 9/11 after the heroic efforts by civil servants were exhausted?  We gathered the nation’s leaders and televised to the watching world a religious service from the National Cathedral which could only be described as an abomination to a devout adherent of any religion, let alone our own Christian religion.  That is what I grieve over.   Islam isn’t a rival of Christianity in my country.  It is a rival to the politically correct elite who brook none other than tepid civic religion.  Have your religion, but keep it to yourself.  So the Muslims have the gall to build a mosque at Ground Zero and all we have as foundation for protest is a vague notion of the sacredness of the ground and talk of heroism.  We have no common religion to defend.   We are the dry bones of our Christian beginnings.  But my hope is in Jesus Christ, who will restore His bride, the Church.  She won’t be wearing red, white, and blue.

A Christian man running for office is interviewed by a mainstream cable news outlet.

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Reporter: Mr. Standfast, you have made a pretty strong showing in the polls in your first run for Congress as a traditional conservative. We understand you are a Christian.

Mr. Standfast: Yes, I am.

Reporter: What does that mean to you as a politician? What do you believe?

Mr. Standfast: I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth.

Reporter: That’s fine. Thank …

Mr. Standfast: Pardon me, I wasn’t done. I believe in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord, Who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, and born of the virgin Mary.

Reporter: Now you’re getting a little exclusive, aren’t you?

Mr. Standfast: Please let me finish my answer, sir. It is very important that I answer faithfully. He suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried; He descended into Hades.

Reporter: Mr. Standfast, we don’t have time for a sermon …

Mr. Standfast: I’m almost done. The third day He arose again from the dead. He ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of God the Father Almighty.

Reporter: Your Jewish and Muslim constituents aren’t going to appreciate this …

Mr. Standfast: Perhaps not, but this is the answer that Christians down through the centuries have given to your question. Almost done. From there He will come to judge the living and the dead.

Reporter: Well, we’re about out of time. I was going to ask how your faith affects your politics, but …

Mr. Standfast: You just heard how. Jesus reigns. I am faithful and loyal to Him. To conclude … I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting. Amen.

Reporter: We’re out of time. Next up, after the break, Phil reports on signs of revival among the evangelicals. …

I am blessed to be an American and I give thanks to God that I have the privilege of being born here, of living here, and of having the freedom (for now) to worship our Lord Jesus Christ and to proclaim His lordship over all as its citizen.  I would describe this sentiment as American Gratitude, in contrast to what Andrew Sandlin is positing here and here.  I was alerted to these posts by a brief response offered here by Douglas Wilson, which also makes use of the term gratitude.  Our sense of patriotism and loyalty should find its source in the font of gratitude.

Sandlin would agree with Wilson that God, not our nation, is worthy of worship, but he exudes a measure of pride in country that shifts the glory, if you will, from God and the grace He has bestowed on America and its impact as a nation.  Just take Sandlin’s crescendo into American Exceptionalist praise which concludes his second post: “[I]ts successes have far outweighed its failures, and for the reasons I have enumerated, America at the beginning of the 21st century (like at the beginning of the 19th and 20th) is the last, best hope for the world.”

The last best hope for the world is none other than Jesus Christ.  What blessings and excellences that have accrued to our nation have not been due to any other font than that which the founders were known to call “divine Providence.”  To take those blessings in hand as it were, and to claim a national pride based on them, is to redirect the glory of God onto that which He has showered blessings upon.  It is to worship a creation rather than its Creator.

If America is the “indispensable nation,” we have much to be worried about, because the blessings bestowed at its founding are being squandered at a rapid pace today.  To say that were are a distinctly Christian nation today is to deny a flagrant paganism that rules the land.  This 300 year-old infant nation didn’t take long to go the way of Rome.  It is worth noting, by the way, that Sandlin hearkens back to the founding while leaving the current state of affairs unmentioned.  He might have had a stronger case for American Exceptionalism had it been made in the late 18th century, but at the opening of the 21st, that case is getting weaker.  As Wilson alludes, I don’t think baby America will figure as prominently as the American Exceptionalists seem to think when that “postmillennial wahoo is fulfilled.”

Update: For those not inclined read through comment threads, I found Wilson’s response to a comment from David Bahnsen helpful: “The stumbling block is the word exceptional. If we are exceptional on the basis that you describe, then we would have to say we believe in English exceptionalism, because our common law liberty came from there. But now we have two exceptional nations, and there are more lined up behind England. And if we decline into apostasy and judgment, there will be others coming behind us, who will contribute more to the cause of the fulfillment of the Great Commission than we have. And so on. Why not just say that we have been greatly blessed? Blessings and curses are a covenantal category. Exceptional status (for any nation other than Israel) isn’t.”

The handshake has fallen on hard times.  I was reminded of this today, as I introduced myself to a young engineer, fresh from college, who had joined my company and my engineering group, just a few weeks ago.  He didn’t refuse to shake the hand that I extended to him and it wasn’t what is commonly called a “dead fish” handshake on his part, but it lacked vigor.  It lacked conviction.  The connection definitely failed.

This isn’t my first encounter with a handshake connectivity issue.  It’s a regular occurrence, in fact, and I can predict with fair confidence when a connection will fail before I make an attempt.  Yet attempt I do, because when the connection is made, when that visceral clasp is engaged, when arm-jostling, genuine eye contact, and kind words are then exchanged, I am reminded again that I am not alone in this world.  The man with whom I have had such a transaction has pledged a common humanity, neighborliness, brotherhood.

In my place of employment I am an initiator of handshakes, more often than not, and I have found, in large part, that handshake attempts fail with younger men.  But it’s not merely a generational phenomenon, because I have found far fewer failures to connect handshakes with even the youngest of lads at church.  What explains this difference?  Will Christians save the handshake?

This rumination might, perhaps, be influenced by my recent reading about the internet, its fragmenting of our brains, and its detrimental impact on our ability to contemplate deeply, but I’ll run with it anyway.  My generation is hardly immune to the effects of the internet, especially when it comes to the time and conversational drain of social networking, but that recent college graduate I encountered today was essentially born into that mode of communication and hasn’t known a time before the internet.  What does that have to do with a handshake?

A handshake is an anchor point for face-to-face conversation, be it the opening gesture, the closing, or both.  It’s rare for a handshake not to be associated with conversation.  Social networking, on the other hand (pun alert!), encourages shallow personal interactions and, I submit, robs face-to-face conversation of essential elements that animate and enliven it: story, discovery, surprise.  If it was shared on Facebook as a status message to 300 “friends” the information has been delivered already.  That connection was already made and the face-to-face version is merely a recap of an already stunted communique.  ”Yeah, I saw your post.  Great news.”  Eventually, we figure this redundancy out and face-to-face conversation declines.

The handshake has gone the way of the dial-up modem, the beeps and whorls of which were emblematic of the dawn of the internet age.  We called a good modem connection a “handshake” and it was essential to establish that “handshake” before a conversation could ensue with our online friends, be it via email or instant message.  But dial-up is so 1990s now.  With our contant broadband internet connectivity and our 3G cellphones, we can network without a “handshake” at all.  No high-tech initiatory preambles needed.

I mentioned the counter-example of young men in my church, not because I think they are immune to the effects of constant networking and indirect communication but, because even while they might be prone (as am I) to let conversation decline, rendering its signature gesture obsolete, they have the benefit of community with eternal import.  A conversation (politeuma) is in progress and it is renewed every week as we gather as one people.  Our handshakes confirm and continue that conversation, expressing brotherly comraderie, a common humanity, and a common Lord.

The handshake is a declining custom it seems, but we should reclaim and revive it as Christians, even as a means to establish that conversation with unbelievers in our midst.  Always make the attempt.  Extend that hand, grasp firmly, and make eye contact.  Make a human connection.  Let him know he’s not alone in a networked crowd.

We are in a struggle for the soul of our country, and we cannot win if we do not fight, and we cannot fight successfully if we do not know what we are fighting for or who the enemy is, and we cannot know who the enemy is or what we should fight for unless we know who we are. If there is an American nation, it is not a mere set of geographical boundaries or a paper constitution that is turned on its head by the president and the federal courts. America is a people with shared experiences that stretch back to our British and European ancestors, to the philosophers and poets of ancient Greece and to the soldiers and lawmakers of Rome and to the prophets of ancient Israel. It is only by recovering our heritage that we can know fully who we are and transmit that self-knowledge to our friends and children. And knowing who we are, we can understand that our enemies are those who hate our religion, our traditions, our history, our morals, our culture. ~ Thomas Fleming, Chronicles, July 2010

It’s an overstatement to say that technology progresses autonomously — our adoption and use of tools are heavily influenced by economic, political, and demographic considerations — but it isn’t an overstatement to say that progress has its own logic, which is not always consistent with the intentions of the toolmakers and tool users.  Sometimes our tools do what we tell them to.  Other times, we adapt ourselves to our tools’ requirements.  ~ Nicholas Carr, The Shallows

I plan to write more about this book in the future, but I thought I’d share a prayer of thanksgiving that I offered to our congregation a while back, which was inspired in large part by my reading of what I’ll call Nate Wilson‘s wonderful poetry in narrative form.

Our Father in Heaven, we thank you for your Word.

And we glory in the wonder and mystery of it.  Your Word.  In the beginning, there the Word was.  The Word was with you.  The Word was God.  In our hands, we carry your Word, preserved in writing.  We read it, speak it, and live by it through your Holy Spirit.  Jesus is on every page.  This is your story.  We are your story and you are telling that story even now.  With words.  Words made flesh, made of molecules, made real.  In a moment we will see, and handle, and taste your Word in the bread and wine.  You speak to us in a meal and we are fed by your Word.  What a wonder.  What a mystery!  We love your Word.  And He loved us before we loved Him.

Our Father in Heaven, we thank you for your Word.

For elders who bless us with preaching.  Carefully chosen words, arranged with skill.  For words of encouragement, exhortation, and admonishment in our midst.  For words made flesh in good deeds, one to another.  Thank you.  For the words of gifted writers who fuel our passion for you.  For Timothy Keller, who adjusted our reading lamps over a familiar proverb and challenged us by it.  For Nate Wilson who renewed in this reader a “wide-eyed wonder in Your spoken world.”  Thank you.  With Wilson, we marvel at your creative breath. Out of nothing, “[you] sang a song, composed a poem, began a novel so enormous that even the Russians are dwarfed by its heaped up pages.”

Thank you for the laughter of a first grandchild.  For the splendor of Arizona skies at sunrise and sunset.  For the curious invention of coffee.

Our Father in Heaven, we thank you for your Word.

And we smile.  In gratitude.  Amen.

Not surprisingly, postmillennialism is the answer. Not only does postmillennialism ride to the rescue of the world, it also rides to the rescue of a decrepit, rationalistic Calvinism. Calvinists don’t like to be told that when they are hobbling through the universal texts that they look just like the Arminians hobbling through the sovereignty texts. But they do. ~ Douglas Wilson

My journey to the reformed and covenantal understanding of Scripture was, as I often recount, through the back door.  Back in the nineties, I ordered a copy of Last Days Madness, which I found advertised in World Magazine, which I subscribed to as a result of a radio advertisement on, … wait for it … the Rush Limbaugh Show.  Once I understood that it isn’t necessary, as Wilson aptly describes, to “hobble through the texts” to understand eschatology, my eyes were opened to what the Scriptures had to say about other things I had held hostage to one system or another theologically.  The point Wilson makes here is just brilliant.  Read the whole post.

In reality, religion is always already there because God is always already there and religion is simply our way of interfacing with and interacting with God in our moment by moment existence. But the Enlightenment sought to carve out a sector of life which was free from any kind of religious influence – that is to say, a realm where God is neither active nor relevant. This is the Enlightenment myth. Those who adopt the myth will be surprised to find in the end that not even hell is a secular space. Man never escapes the presence of God (Psalm 139:7-12).

~ Rich Lusk, When Church Bells Stopped Ringing

The kingdom is not “in our hearts” nor does it exist as a separate reality from the secular world.  As Lusk asserts above, Jesus is ruler over all.  Every knee shall bow and tongue confess that reality in due time, but it is a reality.  Now.  No matter how much we evade it, by clinging to this Enlightenment myth, our religion is not just a personal relationship.  The longer we live as such, the stronger our rivals will become … and we do have rivals!  Islam is on the rise and its citizens are invading and occupying our lands.  Is there a new mosque in your city?  Bet on it.  Secular Humanism is the religion that the Enlightenment has wrought, in spite of its objective to separate from religion.  Its temple is found down your street at the public school and its catechisms are  just as intent on discipling the nations as are our Christian catechisms.

Jesus is ruler over all.  We must live as such.