A 1988 Presidential Debate (Among Primary Candidates)

On YouTube, I watched a 1988 Presidential election debate that was moderated by Tom Brokaw.  Or, actually, it was two debates: it alternated between a debate among the Democratic primary candidates, and one among the Republican primary candidates.

It's definitely worth watching!  Here are intelligent people engaging in a wonkish discussion of the issues.  Usually, they're tactful and respectful to each other, and, when they have an opportunity to ask another candidate a question, they are simply giving the other candidate a chance to express his point-of-view on an issue, rather than attacking.  But there are some attacks: Al Gore asks why Dick Gephardt voted for the Reagan tax cut, Al Haig quizzes George Bush about Bush's possible role in Iran-Contra, etc.

There are also some surprises.  Pete Du Pont is defending his proposal for private Social Security accounts, which George Bush, Bob Dole, and Jack Kemp attack.  This was ironic, considering that Bush's son, George W. Bush, would be a major proponent of private Social Security accounts as President.  Then there was the exchange about school choice between Pete Du Pont and Pat Robertson.  Du Pont is defending school choice, and Robertson responds that he's for it, too, as long as it does not discriminate against the poor and minorities.  I was impressed by Robertson's sensitivity to this issue, since it has been widely held that the religious right originated from an attempt to defend private schools from policies against racial discrimination.  But I probably shouldn't be too surprised by what Robertson said, since he did spend his early days in ministry in the inner-cities.

I respected each candidate in these debates, for various reasons: Michael Dukakis' technocratic emphasis on balancing the budget, Dick Gephardt's defense of his vote for the Reagan tax cuts (he said that he feared that a recession was coming, and he also noted that the tax cuts went to the middle-income, too), Al Gore's criticism of the Reagan tax cuts as unequal, Jesse Jackson's description of the plight of the working poor, Paul Simon's support for government spending to bring people jobs, the other Democratic candidates' criticism of Simon's plan as pie-in-the-sky, Bruce Babbitt's lament about a company that paid its workers less while giving management huge bonuses, the Republican candidates who were concerned about human rights abuses in the Soviet Union, George Bush's humor and defense of Oliver North, Pat Robertson's sensitivity to the needs of the elderly when it comes to health care and nursing homes, the Republicans' debate over whether Social Security truly was solvent (Robertson and Du Pont said that it still had plenty of IOUs, while Dole and Bush said it was solvent), and the list goes on.  You can probably tell that I can admire one candidate for defending a certain position, and another candidate for attacking that very same position that the first candidate holds.  That's because I don't believe that issues, policy proposals, and people are totally right or totally wrong: in many cases, they have their advantages and their disadvantages.  There are plenty of shades of gray and dimensions of reality. 

In any case, you can watch the debate here.  Enjoy!

Blinded by Might 8: Authenticity

For my write-up today on Blinded by Might: Why the Religious Right Can't Save America, by Cal Thomas and Ed Dobson, I'll talk some about Cal Thomas' interview with Tony Hall.  According to the wikipedia article about him, Hall was a Democratic congressman from Ohio, but he became pro-life during the 1980's on account of a born-again experience.

In Thomas' interview with him, Hall narrates that he was criticized by a number of Christian conservatives because----while he voted according to their views on such issues as abortion, homosexuality, and pornography----he did not vote according to right-wing standards when it came to issues like the budget, the Department of Education, and taxes.  Hall believes that concern for the poor is a biblical imperative, and he criticizes the evangelical right for judging the poor as lazy, when actually "Most of the poor today in the country are the working poor" (Hall's words on page 233).  In response to his critics, Hall said, "You know, I look to and fro for what Jesus said about capital gains and could not find it."  He denies the proposition that those who vote with the Moral Majority and the Christian Coalition are the true Christians who deserve Christians' support, while others are non-Christians, and he notes that he knows of two politicians who voted the vast majority of the time with the Moral Majority, yet they were not exactly moral, according to evangelical standards: one was a homosexual, and another had an affair with a page.

I'd like to clarify something, in case I wasn't clear in the above paragraph: Hall is not saying that Christian conservatives are non-Christians.  Rather, he's disputing the notion that only those who vote with the Moral Majority and the Christian Coalition are the true Christians, while those who deviate from that platform are not.  Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson distance themselves somewhat from that sort of attitude in Thomas' interviews with them.  But there have been times when Falwell has held that true Christians adopt certain political stances, as when he advertised an article that he wrote entitled "Why True Christian Women Do Not Participate in the Feminist Movement" (see here for interactions with that article).

Also, some of my readers will probably take issue with Hall's portrayal of homosexuality as immoral.  I think, though, that even those who disagree with Hall on this can see some value in what he says.  Politics can easily push people to be inauthentic, as people compromise for the sake of power.  I wonder if that homosexual politician who voted with the religious right felt any conflict in terms of his votes.  How could he support policies that stigmatized homosexuality, when he himself was a homosexual?  Was he fighting who he was?  Or did he make the political stances that he did out of a desire for power?

I think that one reason that I distanced myself from the religious right was that I desired authenticity in terms of my religion and spirituality.  I could vocally defend Christian conservative political stances against liberal detractors and act as if that's what made me a Christian.  Or I could pursue a more substantive approach: follow the path of service and love for God and my fellow human beings.  And part of this authenticity, for me, was being concerned about the plight of the poor----how government policies affect them, whether those policies make their lives harder, etc.

I'd like to now clarify: I'm not saying that the path of Christian conservatism is incompatible with the path of authentic Christianity.  There are Christian conservatives who love and serve God and others.  They, too, have a concern for the poor.  They give to charity, and they feel that left-wing economic policies hurt the poor whereas their own policies help them.  I'm just saying that, for me personally, following a Christian conservative path led me in a direction opposite to that of Christian values, such as humility, love, service, wholeness, etc.

That's not to say that, now that I'm more of a liberal, I lack the character defects that I had back when I was a conservative.  I can still find myself hating and demonizing the other side, or putting down people when I'm debating them, or seeking to save face.  But, nowadays, I hopefully have something other than a particular political stance to guide my life and my interests.  I have a political stance, yes, but I also have spirituality----or at least I pursue spirituality.

Just, Yet Unjust

1. In Ancient Israelite Religion, I read Abraham Malamat’s “A Forerunner of Biblical Prophecy: The Mari Documents.” Mari was a city in Mesopotamia, and its documents date to the first half of the second millennium B.C.E.

Some things that stand out to me in Malamat’s discussion of Mari prophecy:

Like the biblical prophets, the Mari prophets were concerned about social justice. A prophetic passage exhorts the king, “When a wronged man or woman cries out to you, stand and let his/her case be judged” (36). A letter offers a tangible example of the king executing justice, when he delivers a woman from kidnappers after her companion (at the instruction of the god Dagan) appeals to him for assistance.

Unlike the Bible, however, the Mari prophets usually don’t rebuke the king or the people; rather, they’re often nationalistic and optimistic.

Yet, not all prophets of Mari were professionals, so one can’t say that all of them were going with what benefitted their pocket-books when they made their prophecies. There were professional prophets, and there were lay prophets.

Malamat also makes this point about how Mari tested prophets, as opposed to biblical criteria for whether prophets are true or false: In contrast [to Mari], in Israel the prophetic word, whether accepted or rejected by the king or the people, is never subjected to corroboration by cultic means; it is simply vindicated by the test of fulfillment (47). Mari’s techniques for verification included seeking omens through divination and “sending the hem of the garment and the lock of hair of the prophesier” (47).

2. Last night and today, I read quite a few essays in Matitiahu Tsevat’s The Meaning of the Book of Job and Other Biblical Studies. One essay I read was “God and the Gods in Assembly.” In Psalms 58 and 82, God judges the gods who tolerate or favor the wicked. Although many (perhaps even Jesus in John 8:34-35) have interpreted the “gods” as unjust human judges, Tsevat appears to see them as the actual gods of the nations. After all, does not Deuteronomy 32:8ff. say that the Most High apportioned the Gentile nations to the gods, while reserving Israel for YHWH?

It’s interesting that Tsevat has this essay in his book, considering that his essay on Job says that God in his whirlwind speeches denies that he engages in just retribution (see Vegetarians Start to Eat Meat, God Discusses Justice with Job). Essentially, Psalms 58 and 82 accuse the gods of the other nations of the same things that Job attributes to the true God: of tolerating (and thereby encouraging) wickedness. The message of so much of the Bible, however, is that God judges the wicked.

Why’s the world as screwed up as it is? Could it be that so many nations are ruled by unjust gods? Apocalyptic literature makes this point. The angel Michael, after all, had to contend with the princes of Persia and Greece in order to reach Daniel (Daniel 10:13, 20). Are there unjust spiritual powers behind earthly rulers?

Could this have been Pat Robertson’s point about Haiti? I’m not sure if the Haitian slaves believed they were making a deal with the devil, but (assuming the folklore is even true, which is disputed) could they have made one with an evil spiritual force? Maybe God didn’t cause the earthquake. In the Book of Job, after God allows Satan to do with Job as he pleases, a wind kills Job’s sons and daughters while they are eating and drinking (Job 1:18-19). Can Satan cause natural disasters like tornadoes, perhaps even earthquakes? When people make a deal with an evil spiritual force, are they inviting any mayhem that such a force may cause, for its twisted pleasure? And that’s not to mention the factors behind Haiti’s poverty that clearly flow from injustice, the sorts of things that Psalms 58 and 82 criticize: political corruption, a mal-distribution of wealth, etc.

There’s a lot of discussion about whether or not Israel was more just than other ancient Near Eastern nations. As we saw in (1), Mari had a concept of justice. The idea of allowing the poor to glean is found in Egyptian sources. Hammurapi talked about defending the poor from their oppressors. Other ancient Near Eastern countries were more egalitarian than Israel in their inheritance laws, allowing women to inherit property, even when their father had sons. Moving into Greece, Zeus was viewed as a god of justice.

Yet, I read a good post by Lawson Stone yesterday, Day 308: Post Modern Bronze Age. Here’s how he characterizes economic life under the great kings of the Late Bronze Age:

The end of the Bronze Age in the 13th century B.C. was arguably the most catastrophic event of antiquity. It was a perfect storm. The culture was highly urbanized, based on trade in luxury goods by wealthy ruling elites who controlled all the economic resources of the region primarily with the goal of extracting resources with little concern for local economies and cultures. It was a global culture as the 4 or 5 principal “Great Kings” of the Late Bronze Age (1550-1200 BC) all maintained contact with each other and with their lackeys all over the eastern Mediterranean. These urbanites and the economy they depended on lived off of agricultural produce increasingly imported from subject nations, where it was raised by a shrinking peasant population forced to feed growing but non-producing urban bureaucratic centers with an increasing appetite for imported luxury goods but no concern for local economies, local cultures and local lives.

In the midst of this imperialistic exploitation, “terrorists” such as the Shasu, the Apiru, and other bandits spread their mayhem. Eventually, the oppressive societies weakened as the paper-tigers that they were.

Lawson Stone views the society that the Torah promoted as a refreshing contrast:

But the Old Testament’s vision of freehold agrarianism, local self-sustaining economies whose basic production serves the local needs, never exceeding the carrying capacity of the land, which is cherished and used kindly as a gift of God, a constrained and compassionate use of animals, limits on lending at interest, limitation of trade to surpluses, not staples, selection of leadership from persons most embodying the community’s core values, with families defended by a shared ethos of purity, integrity, memory and relatedness, all united under the concept of a covenant with one righteous and holy God to whose law even rulers and kings submit…these are arguably among the most transformative ideas about human civilization ever proposed.

Could Psalms 58 and 82 have a point that the gods ruling the other nations were unjust, oppressive, and exploitative, whereas the God of the Israelites was a God of compassion and humility? Or were the kings of the Late Bronze Age betraying the principles of their religion, as the Bible accuses Israelite society of doing? Or was their religion a rubber-stamp or a justification for oppression? When that happens, maybe there’s not much of a difference between worshipping the true God falsely, and being guided by an unjust false god.

Haiti

I’m having another fit of insomnia, and my slight headache is still annoying me. One of my tasks tomorrow: get some Tylenol!

I’ve been thinking about Rachel Held Evans’ post, We already failed Haiti , which deals with theodicy and the Christian obligation to help the poor. Polycarp also discusses the recent earthquake in Hundreds of thousands dead in Haiti quake and Organizations where you can help the people of Haiti. Here are some thoughts about Haiti:

1. I don’t know how to pray for large-scale events. I can pray for an individual who needs healing or money for food, but I don’t know what I should pray when it comes to an entire nation. Should I pray that God will keep people from dying? What makes me think he’ll answer that prayer? He hasn’t kept people from dying so far.

One thing I hope about Haiti is that it will become more just, that people will become convicted to love their neighbors as themselves. At a meeting yesterday, a friend was talking about how the wedding of Baby Doc (a former leader in Haiti) cost millions of dollars. This is tragic, when there are so many who are dirt poor in that country. So I pray for conviction.

2. Polycarp posted Don Miller Pities Pat Robertson; Rush Limbaugh weighs in. To be honest, I have a hard time hating Pat Robertson for his comments. They are problematic theologically, but his voice was shaking when he made them. It was like he was discussing a solemn, serious, saddening issue rather than just shooting from the hip, which is what he did when he said we should take out Chavez. Rush Limbaugh’s comments, however, disgust me. Why’s he have to take a tragic situation and use it to bash President Obama as having a sinister motivation?

Rush would probably say that the liberals did that with 9/11. Personally, contrary to the views of some on the right, I don’t think that 9/11 should have insulated the Bush Administration from criticism. And, if Obama does something wrong when he helps Haiti, or if there are better ways to assist the nation than he proposes, then that should be pointed out. But, please, don’t bash the President as having a sinister political motivation, when we can’t even read the man’s mind! Maybe he sincerely wants to help.

3. There are people in my family who are skeptical about charities, and appropriately so. Money was misappropriated after 9/11 and the tsunamis, and that’s tragic. People would respond, however, that we shouldn’t allow cynicism to keep us from donating to charities, since what’t important is that we’re giving, regardless of what the charities do with our money.

I wonder if there’s a middle ground or a third way to look at the situation. Sure, I don’t think cynicism should paralyze me from giving, but I also think it’s mistaken to say I shouldn’t care how charities spend my money. Money is scarce for me, so, when I give it to charity, I hope it’s accomplishing something positive.

4. I’m not sure if I’ll donate money to help Haiti. I already give some to my local Food Bank, which helps the hungry in Cincinnati. There are all sorts of causes out there, and I can’t help all of them.

5. One point Rachel made is that many in America live in luxury, and she’s convicted that she does so when there are so many people who lack the basic necessities. I said on her blog that I don’t have much money, but that’s not a good excuse, for I spend some of what I do have on such luxuries as cable, Internet, going out to eat every now and then, etc. And I’m extremely hesitant to part with that.

I don’t plan to part with my luxuries, since life would be pretty miserable if I had to live a Spartan existence. Does part of me feel guilty about that? Yes. But my mind’s made up.

6. Rachel linked to World Vision, and it only costs $38 a month to help a child. That’s not too much. Granted, if I gave to World Vision, I’d stop donating to my local Food Pantry. But it’s still not that much.

7. When I attended Harvard, a prominent liberal evangelical was promoting a sponsor-a-child-in-a-foreign-country charity. I vaguely remember him saying that, if I don’t donate, then I’m not a true Christian. I’m going with my memory here, and it’s flawed. But I resent manipulation. Evangelicals do well to point out that we should think of others besides ourselves. But some evangelicals’ method of doing this makes me recoil from evangelicalism. Part of it is that I don’t like being told what to do. My gut response when I hear something like that is “I’ll do what I want with my own money, thank you very much, and I won’t let you guilt-trip me with your intimidation and your power-trip, prominent evangelical whom people would recognize if I named him, so I’ll keep him anonymous so I’m not sued for libel!” I like how Paul handled charity in I-II Corinthians (which Rachel quotes): he focused on the positive. He encouraged. He presented God as someone who wants to bless. He talked about how donations could accomplish good. He tried to bring out the best in people.

8. On the theodicy issue, I don’t know what to say. Rachel dislikes the notion that the earthquake was God’s punishment because innocent people (e.g., children) have suffered, but there are plenty of times in the Bible when children die as a result of God’s wrath. Another problem Rachel has identified with blaming natural disasters on human sin is that we really don’t know what sin God would be punishing if that were the case. John Piper blamed a natural disaster on homosexuality, but who’s to say that God wasn’t punishing Christians who hate homosexuals? If God is chastening us with natural disasters, it’s basically our guess what his lesson is. What kind of pedagogy is that?

I don’t worry about theodicy because I don’t have any answers as to why bad things happen. I am commanded to love people, however—to at least be concerned with their pain, and, if I can, to help them out. In addition, at least the doctrine of Christ’s second coming gives me the hope that things will be made right some day. That’s why I don’t understand atheists who refuse to believe in God on account of the problems in the world. If there’s no God, what hope is there that things will be made right?

Matthew 12:22-37: Blasphemy Against the Holy Spirit

In Matthew 12:22-37, Jesus heals a demoniac, prompting the Pharisees to repeat their claim that Jesus did his exorcism through the power of Beelzebub. Jesus responds that this is absurd, for Satan would not undermine his own kingdom by freeing people from demons. That would be against Satan's own self-interest! According to Jesus, his exorcisms were signs of the binding of Satan and the arrival of the Kingdom of God. Then, Jesus makes a statement that has baffled and troubled numerous Christians. He asserts that those who blaspheme the Son (Jesus) can receive forgiveness, but those who blaspheme the Holy Spirit will never be forgiven, in this world or the world to come. Jesus then says that out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks: good words flow out of people with good hearts, while evil words flow out of those with evil hearts. Jesus then emphasizes the importance of words at the last judgment: "I tell you, on the day of judgment you will have to give an account for every careless word you utter; for by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned" (NRSV).

What is blasphemy against the Holy Spirit? Suppose I hit my little finger with a hammer and curse in anger? Did I just blaspheme the Holy Spirit? John Bunyan thought he had blasphemed the Holy Spirit when he expressed a desire for Jesus to leave him. That dismay put him in a spiritual pit for a long time!

Most Christians treat blasphemy against the Holy Spirit as an attitude. For them, the Pharisees knew that Jesus was the Messiah on the basis of his miracles, yet they rejected him anyway. Their continual rejection of Jesus placed them in a position where they could not believe and be saved. According to many Christians, if a person is worried about having committed blasphemy against the Holy Spirit, then he most likely has not done so, since he is displaying an attitude of repentance. The Pharisees, however, could not repent, for they were dismissing the very evidence for Jesus' Messianic status. People could reject Jesus and later repent after they recognized their ignorance. But if they rejected Jesus' miracles and good works on behalf of the Kingdom, then what more could Jesus do to convince them? They are in a state of spiritual hopelessness, for their hearts are hard against God himself.

Jesus told the Jewish leaders in John 10:37-38: "If I am not doing the works of my Father, then do not believe me. But if I do them, even though you do not believe me, believe the works, so that you may know and understand that the Father is in me and I am in the Father." For Jesus, the miracles that he did were obviously from God, and the Pharisees should have known that, especially when they were doing similar works themselves. And, of course, when they did them, they claimed they were from God! So why did they assume that Jesus' exorcisms were any different? But their attribution of them to Beelzebub was evidence of their opposition to God's goodness and the corruption of their hearts.

The popular Christian answer has a lot of merit, but I have at least two problems with it:

1. Most Christians treat the blasphemy of the Holy Spirit primarily as an attitude of rebellion. And, indeed, Jesus does criticize the Pharisees' hearts. But he also focuses a lot on their words, for he affirms that useless speech can lead to condemnation at the final judgment. And I prefer to translate artos as "useless" or "without redeeming value," not as "careless." In my opinion, Jesus was not condemning the Pharisees because they misspoke or said something without a whole lot of thought. Rather, Jesus believed that what they said was bad.

Matthew 12:32 states, "Whoever speaks a word against the Son of Man will be forgiven, but whoever speaks against the Holy Spirit will not be forgiven, either in this age or in the age to come." The word translated as "speaks" is an aorist, which means a single incident as opposed to a continuous activity. A Greek professor of mine once said that the present tense is like a movie, whereas the aorist is like a snapshot. Therefore, Jesus was criticizing the Pharisees' single statement that Beelzebub had helped out his exorcisms, not just their continual mindset. Those who view the blasphemy against the Holy Spirit as a continuous attitude should address this point. Jesus says that anyone who says one word against the Holy Spirit will receive no forgiveness. Sure, the word proceeds from a heart that is continuously corrupt, but the word is still what condemns someone.

Pat Robertson was the first preacher I heard who addressed that point. He was asked about the blasphemy against the Holy Spirit on the 700 Club, and he replied that it was a single rather than a continuous act, since Matthew 12:32 uses the aorist. But (if my memory is correct) his advice for Christians was not to worry too much about it, since God is merciful. Then why did Jesus get into this whole discussion of forgiveness and blasphemy against the Holy Spirit, in the first place?

(UPDATE: My understanding of the aorist have changed since I wrote that post.  There are different uses of the aorist, so the use of the aorist in Matthew 12:32, by itself, does not necessarily mean that Jesus was condemning a single act.)

2. My second point may not be too crucial, but I do see a need to make it. For most Christians, Jesus was saying that those who blaspheme the Holy Spirit cannot repent. But Jesus doesn't explicitly say that. Rather, he stresses that they will not be forgiven. Granted, repentance is what leads to forgiveness, and a person cannot be forgiven if he is unable to repent. But Jesus may mean, "Look, that sin is so bad that God will not forgive it. Watch out, people!"

These are problems that I have with the prevalent Christian interpretation. Now here are three of my problems with the passage itself, or at least people's use of it:

1. Jesus acts as if his miracles are obvious signs that he is from God. But the Bible says on many occasions that false prophets are able to do signs and wonders (Deuteronomy 13:1-5; Matthew 24:24; II Thessalonians 2:9; Revelation 13:13-14). Pharaoh's magicians could duplicate some of Moses' miracles, for example (Exodus 7:11, 22; 8:7, 18). Such a motif appears in Christian literature. In Frank Peretti's The Visitation, for instance, a false prophet does healings that initially help people yet eventually turn out bad. So if the bad side can do miracles, then why should we be so shocked that Jesus' miracles failed to convince the Pharisees? Of course they can say that the bad side was helping Jesus out! That was an option in the Bible: that a false prophet can do some pretty miraculous things.

When I was a kid, I heard a sermon by a preacher from an Armstrongite church. As Armstrongites usually do, this guy was criticizing Protestants, especially those from the charismatic movement. Essentially, he was attributing their miracles to demons. "So these guys cast out demons. Big deal!" he said. "Satan can tell demons to leave someone. He put them in the person, after all." I was just a kid, but my jaw dropped. "Isn't that the same argument that Jesus was trying to refute?" I thought. "And Jesus said that this argument was blaspheming the Holy Spirit!" That brings me to my next point:

2. Many charismatics act as if anyone who disagrees with them on spiritual gifts is blaspheming the Holy Spirit. Their logic runs like this: The Holy Spirit is the one who influences charismatics to speak in tongues and prophecy. To certain Christians, these activities look rather bizarre, if not downright creepy, so they either attribute them to Satan or say that they aren't from the Holy Spirit. For charismatics, since these Christians are criticizing an activity of the Holy Spirit, they are blaspheming him.

But can't there be room for doctrinal disagreement, without saying that people from a certain side are placing themselves permanently outside of God's forgiveness? It's not as if non-charismatics are hardening themselves against God (even though many of them do seem to put God in a box). There are many charismatics who act as if they're special because they have these gifts while others do not, and they want everyone to pat them on the backs. But do they have to say that those who don't pat them on the backs are on their way to hell?

3. Now that I've bashed both non-charismatics and charismatics, allow me to talk about liberal Christians. They too have appealed to Jesus' statement on blasphemy against the Holy Spirit. I once had a Harvard professor who believed that non-Christians could be saved on account of their good deeds. He was once a conservative Christian who maintained that Jesus was the only way to God, but he changed his mind when he met some nice Jewish people. One rabbi he knew did many good works. He loved God and helped the poor. When he prayed, his prayers were answered.

"Now, you could tell me that all of this was from Satan," he told me. "But that's what the Pharisees told Jesus. And Jesus said that, if they couldn't acknowledge goodness when they saw it, then you can't do anything for them!" For my professor, a refusal to acknowledge the goodness of non-Christians resembled the Pharisees' denial of Christ's good deeds.

Indeed, that is a hard one. So now we have to compromise on Jesus being the only way, or we're in danger of blaspheming the Holy Spirit. It seems that, according to a lot of interpreters, it is virtually impossible not to blaspheme the Holy Spirit, unless one buys into the interpreters' own peculiar ideology.

My professor may have a point. I don't know. A person's theological or religious construct can influence how he reacts to certain phenomena. If a Christian believes in total depravity, then he will try to explain away the good deeds of non-Christians, depicting them as not truly good (ergo Jonathan Edwards' The Nature of True Virtue). Similarly, the Pharisees tried to explain away Jesus' deeds to fit their own construct. "This guy can't be from God," they thought. "He doesn't keep the Sabbath properly. He rejects the traditions of our elders. He dares to forgive sins, something that only God can do. His miracles must be from Satan!"

But, then again, maybe they were supposed to accept Jesus' miracles on the basis of their own religious construct. Jesus made the point, after all, that they saw exorcism as good, since there were Pharisaic exorcists. Why was it right for them to do it and not Jesus? And some (such as Brad Young) have argued that Jesus was not really going beyond the pale of Judaism, for there were rabbis who (like Jesus) were open to plucking grain on the Sabbath for a little snack. According to this view, the Pharisees' criticism of Jesus' disciples in Matthew 12:1-8 was part of an inter-Jewish dispute, not an accusation that Jesus was completely overturning Judaism. If that is the case, then maybe the Pharisees should have been open to Jesus and his miracles, but they weren't because they were grasping onto their power, which Jesus dared to threaten.

Pat and Jerry Up Close

I just finished Mel White's Stranger at the Gate: To Be Gay and Christian in America (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1994). Mel White was a ghostwriter for such figures as Jerry Falwell, Pat Robertson, and Billy Graham. Unknown to them at the time was Mel's sexual orientation. Mel White is a homosexual.

Mel talks about Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson up close, for he got to work with them on several occasions. What's interesting is that his account of their personalities matches what I have read or heard about them elsewhere, in a variety of sources. Or, actually, I have several sources about Falwell. My information on Pat Robertson is from someone who's met him.

Mel White describes Falwell as a practical joker. Jerry once put a baby crocodile in his bathtub, scaring his wife, Macel Pate (who may be related to me, who knows?). That matches something I read on the Internet. There was a journalist who did not like Falwell because of the divisions he caused in her community. She visited Liberty University in Lynchburg, Virginia to do a story about him, and, much to her surprise, she found him to be a nice, funny guy. When she rode around with him in his truck, he pretended that he was about to run over the students. He definitely had a funny streak.

But, according to Mel White, Falwell also had problems with the truth. White says that Falwell was not overly homophobic up close, for he had a homosexual on his staff. For Falwell, as long as the gay kept his homosexuality to himself, he and Falwell would get along fine. But, at the time of White's writing, Falwell denied that he had a homosexual on his staff (according to White).

White also refers to a mass-mailing that Falwell sent out, detailing his rescue from a homosexual mob in Los Angeles. According to Falwell, the LAPD had to rescue him from a bunch of murderous homosexuals. But the police deny that this even occurred.

I've read in other sources about Falwell's problems with the truth. In Keeping Faith, Jimmy Carter recounts that Falwell was telling people that he (Carter) had homosexuals in his administration, based on a statement that Carter allegedly made to him in a meeting. But, in Carter's recollection, he told Falwell no such thing. Carter says that Falwell later apologized, yet he still aired ads in which a mother told her little girl that Carter was bad because he tolerated homosexuals.

In William Martin's With God on Our Side: The Rise of the Religious Right in America (New York: Broadway, 1996), Falwell recounts that his church began reaching out to African-Americans in the early 1960s. Here's Falwell's version of events:

"[T]he real test came--it was probably 1960 or '61--when a black family came forward to join our church and wanted to be baptized. I said, 'All right, I'll baptize you,' and I did. But I told them that night, as we were about to go down in the water, I said, 'Neither one of us may come up out of that water, so I hope you're right with the Lord. I am.' And I baptized them. We lost a couple of families over that, but just that quickly it was all over. And as far as I know, we became the first church in this town to aggressively begin ministering to everyone...[I]n 1960 in the South, it was a big deal. And it caused criticism--in the city, in the community, not just in the church. There were people wondering, 'What is this young preacher trying to do, ruin our town?'"

According to Martin's research, Falwell's story is inaccurate, for "Thomas Road Baptist Church remained segregated until 1968, and the first baptism of an African-American person appears not to have occurred until 1971" (page 58).

So was Falwell a liar? I don't know. Maybe he just had a certain perspective on past events. On some level, we all place things that happened to us into a narrative, which isn't necessarily accurate in every detail. Perhaps Falwell sincerely believed he was telling the truth.

Regarding Pat Robertson, Mel White depicts him as very intense. White contrasts Robertson to Falwell: "Pat Robertson, on the other hand, was almost always polite, but distant, totally self-absorbed in his ambitious plans, and certainly not much fun." When White was on Robertson's plane, Robertson dropped him off, put a more influential person in Mel's place, and took off again. Mel found himself in a strange airport, "hoping to catch a commercial flight home" (page 205).

That reminded me of someone who told me a story about Pat Robertson. "Why don't you invite Pat Robertson to this area?" he was asked. He replied, "I know Pat and Dee Dee. I've had lunch with them. They're charming, wonderful people. But his attention span for you is like that if you don't present him with the hottest thing since French toast." When he said "that," he snapped his fingers. "If I invite Pat here to speak, he'll look through the curtains to see if he's got a big crowd, and I don't want him to be disappointed."

His interpretation of Pat wasn't as negative as White's, but both seem to present similar characteristics: a man who is ambitious and driven, yet friendly.

When I hear different people say the same thing about someone, I think, "Okay, we're talking about the same person here." But who knows? These figures may have had deeper things in them that never came to the surface. Can we truly say that we know someone? Motivations may be hidden.