What is truth?

George Orwell, writing at the close of the Second World War, draws some thought-provoking connections between totalitarianism, postmodernity and literature. He argues that the view that "all historical records are biassed and inaccurate" plays into the hands of the totalitarian state which demands "the continuous alteration of the past, and in the long run probably demands a disbelief in the very existence of objective truth" and may make it easy for such a government to "set us a schizophrenic system of thought, in which the laws of common sense held good in everyday life and in certain exact sciences, but could be disregarded by the politician, the historian, and the sociologist".1

He also argues that "good writing stops" in any society that not only permits falsification but insists that the false record be presented as true. This is because the presence of taboos dries up the creative impulse - "the imaginative writer is unfree when he has to falsify his subjective feelings, which from his point of view are facts . . . he cannot say with any conviction that he likes what he dislikes, or believes what he disbelieves"2. "To write in plain, vigorous language one has to think fearlessly, and if one thinks fearlessly one cannot be politically orthodox."3

My main response to all this is, gosh, it's a different world today, and we're blessed not to live in this sort of repressive climate. Yet even in this age of peace and political freedom we have taboos, and postmodern perspectivalism (is that a word?) can lead us to accept any interpretation of past events without pausing for critical reflection. As Christians, we need to resist these impulses and speak truth, with due sensitivity and picking our battles, but that should still be our aim.


1 G Orwell, "The Prevention of Literature" in Books v. Cigarettes (London: Penguin Books, first published 1946, here 2008), 28-29.
2 Ibid, 31.
3 Ibid, 33.

Santa Claus and the miracle of travel

I forgot that kids are kids and think of them as short adults. This is good because it means that I treat with them seriousness and respect, and try to get to know them and their interests. But I tend to forget how small their world is and how little they know - and how significant my words and presence can be in their lives. George Orwell reminds me that, "A child may be a mass of egoism and rebelliousness, but it has no accumulated experience to give it confidence in its own judgements. On the whole it will accept what it is told, and it will believe in the most fantastic way in the knowledge and powers of the adults surrounding it."1 He goes on to tell the story of illicitly buying some sweets as a child and, on coming out of the shop, seeing a man looking his way whom he earnestly believed was a spy placed there by his boarding school headmaster.

He also talks about how adults can abuse childish ignorance, and explains that being caned for wetting the bed taught him that his behaviour was both wicked and outside his control. "I was crying . . . partly also because of a deeper grief which is peculiar to childhood and not easy to convey: a sense of desperate loneliness and helplessness, of being locked up not only in a hostile world but in a world of good and evil where the rules were such that it was actually not possible for me to keep them."2

May God help us to treat kids well.


1 G Orwell, "Such, Such Were the Joys" in Books v. Cigarettes (London: Penguin Books, first published 1952, here 2008), 83.
2 Ibid, 69-70.

Decency and tolerance

I was excited to read Christopher Hitchen's brother's book - and a little concerned. My concerns turned out to be well-founded. It's not that the tone was bad; it just wasn't particularly warm or compassionate. And it's not that the cross was omitted; it was just that the health of societies seemed his greater passion. Oh, and he's not as fine a writer as his brother. But the book does include some smart critique of anti-theist thinking. Here are some good quotes:

[I]n all my experience of life, I have seldom seen a more powerful argument for the fallen nature of man, and his inability to achieve perfection, than those countries in which man sets himself up to replace God with the state.

. . . utopianism is dangerous precisely because its supporters are so convinced that they are themselves good.

Godless regimes and movements have given birth to terrible persecutions and massacres . . . . This is a far greater problem for the Atheist than it is for the Christian, because the Atheist uses this argument to try to demonstrate that religion specifically makes things worse than they otherwise would be. On the contrary, it demonstrates that our ability to be savage to our own kind cannot be wholly prevented by religion.

[S]ome of the arguments of atheists also lead them into a dangerous intolerance of Christian moral opinions, and of the Christian education of children, which do not sit well with their self-image as apostles of enlightenment and liberty. Like all foes of liberty, they are all for it except when they are really, really against it. (p119)

I say unequivocally that if a man wishes to bring his child up as an atheist, then he should be absolutely free to do so. I am confident enough of the rightness of Christianity to believe that such a child may well learn later (though with more difficulty than he deserves) that he has been misled. But it is ridiculous to pretend that it is a neutral act to inform an infant that the heavens are empty, that the universe is founded on chaos rather than love, and that his grandparents, on dying, have ceased altogether to exist. I personally think it wrong to tell children such things, because I believe them to be false and wrong and roads to misery of various kinds. But in a free country parents should be able to do so. In return, I ask for the same consideration for religious parents.

from P Hitchens, The Rage Against God (London: Continuum, 2010), pages 111, 101, 113, 152.

Justice

Back in December a man was murdered and his relatives wanted to enact 'traditional retribution', but were prevented from doing so and rioted. The magistrate, David Bamber, told them, "There is no place for violent retribution. The days of payback with violence should end . . . . [They] should be concerned with changing their law. They should be working out ways to deal with disputes without violence rather than feeling aggrieved with whitefella law preventing them from carrying out their old punishments". But I wonder if whitefella punishment is more arbitary and abstracted than Bamber thinks, and if spearing the leg of a person who has commited violence could sometimes be the fairer punishment. Yet I do agree with him that "violence begets violence".

Five months later, the unrest continues. I want to tell the family of the murdered man that they don't need to take justice into their own hands; that there once was a Man who bore the perfect payback they are keening for.

Tough questions

I'm not always very good at answering people's objections to Christianity. Thing is, I need to train someone else in this. So I tried to find a good website that could help us both - and here it is.


H/T Tim Chester (via Nick)

It's not better and it's not real

We're foolish people. Sometimes we think we have a better idea than God of what is good for us and we yearn for this imaginary life. We need to remember:

There's no better life that you're missing out on . . . you're not actually losing out on anything. It's good to live for God, to live for eternity – it's actually the good life . . . . There's no other life that's a better life than living for the Kingdom of God. There's nothing actually to envy out there somewhere. Living for the Kingdom of God is reality. It's the good life. It's the way things actually are. Is a purposeless life of selfish indulgence and endless holidays actually, really going to make you happy? ...the hollowness, the aimlessness ...really? Is the life of the ungodly really a happy life, a perfect life? . . . . Living for God is always the good life. Beware of confusing sacrifice for the Gospel with actually losing out on stuff that really isn't actually good. Beware of the logic 'If I weren't a Christian I'd have so much more fun'.”
(Mikey Lynch, Ministry Challenge conference 2010)

First & foremost

I want to be the sort of missionary who sees the strengths in people. I imagine that this will be an precious attitude to adopt in a confusing world where people don't do things the way I expect them to. I don't want to spend my time pining for 'how we do things back home' or daydreaming about how everything could be overhauled. Instead I want to recognise and esteem the good that is before me. I would appreciate your prayers that I will actually be able to think this way once I'm there.


H/T Kate