American Satanism, Critical Grace Theory, and Man-up!

The usual assortment of thoughtful essays.

Three links today, beginning with hyperbole that, like all good hyperbole, reveals an essential truth.

How Satanism conquered America: Untrammeled individualism is no longer a sin. By Mary Harrington at UnHerd.

…if devilish imagery mostly feels a bit cringe, the Devil himself has gone mainstream. If being deliberately anti-Christian pour épater la bourgeoisie feels exhausted, for the new, post-Christian bourgeoisie Satan now reads like the good guy. And in the hands of this class, the Devil’s proverbial pride, self-regard and refusal to yield isn’t just celebrated — it’s on its way to becoming the established religion of the United States of America.

Since the rise of critical theory in popular culture, I’ve always had  the thought  that it’s fundamentally right in some respects, such as this: Systemic racism is real and a real problem.  This is not a reach for any person who believes in original sin.  Sin not only infects individuals, but as sinful individuals build institutions, culture, and government, sin will weave its way into those very systems (including the church, by the way).  Yet critical theory doesn’t go far enough, as far as I’m concerned, as there is also plenty of evidence of systemic greed, systemic lust, systemic violence, and so forth and so on. 

Carl Trueman takes this line of thinking and goes even deeper theologically. His is a good introduction to other aspects of critical theory and, more importantly, to a biblical critical theory.

Critical Grace Theory by Carl R. Trueman in First Things.

As debates over critical race theory rage on, both in society and within the church, one important point seems to have been missed by all sides: Many of the most important biblical writers were among the sharpest critical theorists of their day. I may be naive to imagine that an appreciation of the theological resources available to those who wish to hone their analysis of society might move the current discussions forward—given that so many presume that race, class, gender, sexual identity, and the rest exhaust our critical tools. But Christians, at least, should acknowledge Isaiah and Paul as more fruitful interlocutors than Derrick Bell and Kimberlé Crenshaw.

I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of the whining.  Everybody today has good reason to complain about how they are being treated unfairly, how unjust the system is against people like them, etc.  And the usual response is to whine at unfair it all is. Christians, of course, join the chorus with complaints ranging from being marginalized to being persecuted.  You would have thought we would have learned something from our Lord when he said we should consider ourselves blessed, and in fact rejoice, when hounded by others (Matthew 5:10-11).  

Batya Ungar-Sargon reflects on the anti-semitism she endures and adopts a parallel stance, one I think Christians would do well to embrace as we endure the “slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.” 

The Antisemites Scream. And I Stiffen My Spine: The worst thing that could come out of this moment would be for Jews to embrace the victimhood narrative. By Batya Ungar-Sargon at The Free Press. 

It’s uncomfortable to be barked at by strangers. It’s not pleasant to find out that your classmates will not condemn the murder of your people, or to hear thousands of them gleefully chanting the slogans of a genocidal death cult committed to your erasure from this planet. It’s unsettling to know that your peers have adopted a worldview that allows them to convince themselves that you are the bad guy, you are the privileged monster who wants babies to burn—even as they justify and celebrate the burning of Jewish babies. 

It is scary to realize that the same administration that “protects” your fellow students from every perceived slight and insult will side with them against you as they literally call for your annihilation. It can be deeply isolating to open social media and see post after post calling your people the perpetrators of the exact forms of murderous violence that was done to them not three weeks earlier. And it is maddening to watch those who hate us and wish violence upon us fashion themselves as victims—even as heroes.

But that feeling you get when you are facing those things down, that quickening of your heart rate, the flush on your face, the chill down the spine—these unpleasant sensations are what courage feels like. They are the physical symptoms of a moral compass that works, the manifestations of pride in who you are, of the fact that despite millennia of calls for our murder, we’re still here. You’re still here.

Treasure those feelings. Do not cower. Do not tremble.

Grace and peace,

 Mark

Photo credit: gabrielabertolini / istock.com