Conclusion to Chapter 1

Early opponents and unsympathetic observers of fundamentalism held that the clash was between the country and the city. The country and the city served both as symbols for the ideas that clashed in the modernist controversy and as symbols of the constituency for each side. The fundamentalists were caricatured as the country bumpkins; the modernists were portrayed as urbane and learned. Change in general and progress toward the things modernists wanted to bring about were more welcome in the city than in country. The notion of city against country had some truth to it, but not enough.

There was a clash of cultures. The materialistic culture of progress and scientific knowledge bastioned in the industrialized cities of the North loomed threatening over the agrarian and rural culture, the vestiges of a non-materialistic culture such as the culture of the South. Secularism, the religion of a materialistic culture, threatened orthodoxy. While the threat was faced as a theological threat, the sense existed that there was some sort of a cultural threat, that the culture and religion of modernity were allied. Correspondingly there was a sense that orthodoxy also had a cultural ally, the culture of the folk rather than the culture of the elites.

I shall argue that the fundamentalism of the early twentieth century can best be understood as the attempt to preserve orthodoxy by sheltering it in popular culture.* I shall demonstrate that the consensus of fundamentalism tried to preserve orthodoxy in popular culture at the expense of degrading orthodoxy and still losing the battle. To do that I contrast the three leading proponents that Marsden mentions (Machen, Sunday, and Bryan). Each one of these three men identified with the fundamentalist cause, but they identified differently. To understand these men, sort out their allegiances, and interpret their identification with fundamentalism I want to look at a speech they each delivered. For Bryan the speech was the last great speech of his career. For Sunday it was the sermons delivered at the height of his popularity and influence. For Machen it was an early speech, but one that defined his course through all his career.

*Do I maintain that folk and popular culture are the same? This reminds me of a quip by the famous Mr. Joel Zartman who when asked what was worse than folk culture gave the insanely hilarious reply, “I don’t know.” Back in 1973, of course, people might have been outraged, but we live in more enlightened times. Nowadays most people would just grin and turn back to their comic books.**

**This is reminiscent of an aphorism which the famous Mr. Joel Zartman was fond of: “Everything in moderation, especially folk culture.” The famous Mr. Joel Zartman was not very partial to genuine folk culture in the least. He wanted it mitigated or traduced in order to partake of it, if at all, for a very short time. The raw and undiluted form he found as palatable as chewing on a leather boot.***

***From this degenerative series of footnotes the reader may gather that something in the way of a comment on folk and popular culture is required. The great Nathan O. Hatch, in his triumphant work, never was subjected to such an indignity. In fact, never along the way has anybody other than the unmentioned Ken Myers ever deal with the phenomenon as such. One cannot, alas, in a serious work of this nature introduce a reference to Ken Myers’s book as an authority, for an authority it is not, for all that is spends a whole chapter on the Kaplan article. What one thinks one will do, is to have in hand the requisite information and then find where it is most pleasing to one’s instructors to have it introduced.****

****This is a lot of blogging for one day. I have to go quickly for I have four more chapters to cover before the end of February and three are longer. And as you have noticed, commentary on the latest Nick of Time is rather on the unentertaining end of the spectrum.

Two Big

In The Democratization of American Christianity, Hatch argues that, “The democratization of Christianity . . . has less to do with the specifics of polity and governance and more with the incarnation of the church into popular culture.” His book shows how the years following the American Revolution and into the Second Great Awakening shaped American Christianity in ways that cast off the restraint of the past, moved away from traditional ecclesiastical institutions and high culture, and made for a new  “profound commitment” to the audience. During these years Christianity became a democratic phenomenon. This accounts for the populist appeal that Hatch argues is the “central force” in American religion.

    Even when Fundamentalists set out to defend the truth, their temptation was to rally large constituencies to the cause rather than to prepare for scholarly exchange. William Hutchinson has noted that the movement’s signal attempt to defend supernatural Christianity, The Fundamentals, published between 1910 and 1915, was more a warning to the general Christian public than a scholarly grappling with the roots of modernism. It seemed more important to the project’s backers to distribute three hundred thousand copies of The Fundamentals free of charge than to meet the liberals on their own ground in theological debate.

    Carpenter’s book, Revive Us Again, might have been the sequel for Hatch’s. The same populist impulse that Hatch describes is seen in the reawakening of the years of consolidation and recovery that Carpenter tells. Carpenter contrasts fundamentalists with the orthodox and anti-modernist Missouri Synod Lutherans who objected not only to the eschatology of fundamentalists, but also to their “deemphasis of the sacraments” and “their interdenominational latitude.” He shows that fundamentalists were more than just orthodox Christianity, that they included the more pragmatic among orthodox Christians.

    Because fundamentalism had been mainstream before the Modernist Controversy, the memory and longing for a greater audience was still there after the controversy. It was a longing harbored by leaders not usually scholarly, who did not deal in ideas, who fostered Bible schools, and who wrote pamphlets instead of books. The story that Carpenter wants to tell is how these men regained their popularity in the decades following the Scopes Trial. The task was twofold: the fundamentalists had to rebuild their basic infrastructure of institutions, and they had to speak through the greater organs of mass communication. Carpenter shows how this task was accomplished by the hands and efforts of men frantic to seize any means for the propagation of the gospel. What it indicates is that, as with Finney, Moody, Sunday, and again with Graham, fundamentalism latched onto popular culture.

After Marsden

Although nothing has been published to date that commands the respect that Marsden’s book has, or that in any way challenges his understanding of fundamentalism as the most accurate, there have been several works which complement and enhance the understanding that Marsden provides.

    Several excellent works deal with fundamentalism but specialize in directions that move them outside of the scope of this thesis. Harriet A. Harris’s book Fundamentalism and Evangelicals demonstrates that both a high view of Scripture and a need to prove that high view were the elements of fundamentalism that the British and American varieties had in common. Harris wants to deal with the elements of fundamentalism still present in Evangelicalism and to challenge the evangelicals to recognize the fundamentalist mentality so that their position is as clear and consistent as it should be. Her work explains the philosophical root of the fundamentalist mind set. She establishes this in the empirical rationalism of Scottish Common Sense Realism. For the purpose of this thesis, her considerations are parallel, but not entirely to the point addressed here.

    Douglas W. Frank’s Less Than Conquerors is an attempt to demonstrate how evangelicals suffered by embracing Common Sense philosophy, dispensationalism, and the triumphalism of Victorious Life theology. Frank’s selective portrayal, while interesting in the details, is not convincing. His explanation of why people would embrace Common Sense philosophy, dispensationalism, or Victorious Life theology is neither sympathetic or plausible; he deals tendentiously.

    William Glass’s Strangers in Zion really does not begin to complement Marsden till Glass recounts events after 1920. Glass chronicles fundamentalism in the South, which travels on a different trajectory than fundamentalism in the North. Fundamentalism in the South was a different thing because religion in the South was a different thing from religion in the North. The essential supernaturalism of religion was not disputed in the South as soon as it was in the North.

    Barry Hankins argues that fundamentalism was introduced to the South by J. Frank Norris. Hankins insinuation that Norris was the origin of the insidious fundamentalism resurgent in the SBC today, strikes one as a protracted ad hominen argument. Even if Norris was the greatest single influence for fundamentalism in the South, it is hard to think of him as the precursor to men so committed to denominational co-operation.

    Less preposterous but also less interesting is Douglas Karl Abrams’ Selling the Old Time Religion which argues that even though fundamentalists rejected modernity they applied its mechanisms and methods to their task in a way that was sometimes careless. They preached against the popular evils using the popular methods, not any more shy of mass culture than the average American. “To their credit, fundamentalists utilized mass culture to spread and defend what was most important to them.” The fundamentalists’ ambiguous and generally favorable embrace of modern mass culture is something Abrams describes without censure. For him, the simple awareness that not every part of mass culture is untainted, and the concession that sometimes the fundamentalists used the things that were tainted, is enough. It is not an ambitious argument, although thoroughly researched.

Four Approaches to Culture

Marsden associates dispensationalism with those who stood radically against (or radically indifferent to) culture; Arno C. Gabelein and I. M Haldeman were the leading examples. They did not believe that society would be fixed and withdrew from any effort but evangelism. Since Christ would return and set the world right, Christians should wait for the return of Christ. The Christian should not seek to save the world, but to evangelize the men of the world. This first approach, while not exactly a majority, represents fundamentalism in general, being the position that resulted from the lack of consensus. Marsden considers this approach a minority approach by 1910.

The second approach he associates with William Bell Riley. Riley represents a changing attitude, an emerging consensus that is uneasy with the more withdrawn view; it is the beginning of a movement toward greater involvement. Marsden remarks that this position was rather hard to pin down. The rise of the Bible institute is what impelled this early consensus to greater unity. In the early days, it was the Bible institute that most gave fundamentalism its coherence as a movement.

Marsden also points out the deficiencies in the curriculum of the new Bible institutes—a curriculum which was “less than a total endorsement of the disinterested study of the Western intellectual tradition.” He is quick to add that this only suggests an anti-cultural bias, and not an outright rejection of the things of intellect. The presence of an anti-cultural bias in turn suggests there was some continuity between the first approach and the second. The continuity consisted in a persistent reluctance to deal with culture.

The growing consensus (still the second approach) gradually became represented in the figure of Billy Sunday. Early in his career, Billy Sunday did not meet with a great deal of support, which Marsden attributes to a popular preference for a more Victorian formality. Sunday had none of this, but, as times changed, he did not need it. What Sunday did was more informal and decorous, but: “It was difficult . . . to argue with success.”

The third approach to Christianity and culture was found in William Jennings Bryan whose “religious interests . . . resembled his political ones.” Marsden believes that Bryan represented the “culturally dominant evangelical coalition” of the first quarter of the century. Bryan, so immensely popular, not only represents a fundamentalist approach to culture, but the popular attitude to culture in his time. At this point, if Marsden is right, there is an almost complete merging of fundamentalism with popular opinion.

“Bryan’s defense of Christianity was essentially pragmatic, resting on his concept of civilization . . . Bryan thus abandoned, in the spirit of popular American pragmatism, not only the fine points of theology but also any attempt to present a theoretical defense of Christianity and relied on the evidence of practical results in individuals and in nations.” Marsden notes that Bryan and Sunday held very similar positions with regard to Christianity and culture. This proximity of approach seen in the erosion of intellectual labor and the pragmatic attitude that Bryan and Sunday both represent, suggests a continuity between the second and third approaches.

To sum up: the first approach was mostly indifferent to culture; this gave way to the second approach which was biased against culture (which is a sort of indifference to its benefits); the third approach was pragmatically opportunistic toward culture (which is a sort of bias against its proper uses). What these three views have in common is the negligence of a proper consideration of culture.

The fourth approach that Marsden relates was exemplified by J. Gresham Machen. In Machen’s day, within the Presbyterian camp, following the trajectory of the New School, came the liberals with the modernist approach that subsumed orthodoxy to culture. In contrast to this Machen advocated the consecration of culture. He also stood in contrast to fundamentalists because he realized the need for fighting the intellectual battles–the battle of ideas–inside the academy, for he saw the outcome would spread outside the academy. He did not believe that an intellectual crisis could be separated from a cultural crisis. His desire was to address the crisis. Machen understood the value of culture: he did not remain indifferent toward it, he had no bias against it, and he found it too crucial to use in an opportunistic way.*

*Ibid., 135-138. Significantly, the names that Marsden keeps mentioning in this section, besides that of Machen, are those of Bryan and Sunday, who are also serve as contrasts to Machen. “[T]he New School party of the nineteenth century helped to open the door for the growth of Presbyterial liberalism. At the same time, however, a conservative version of the New School tradition of activist revivalism and patriotic social reform was carried into the fundamentalist era by such leaders as Bryan and Sunday” (136).

Three Paradoxes

Fundamentalism exhibits three themes according to Marsden:

The first is a tendency to identify both with the establishment and with outsiders. The establishment was changing. The fundamentalists, reacting against this change, stood against the establishment. But in their political and social involvement fundamentalists still identified with the establishment. Marsden does not believe a “consistent ideology” will account for this, but that it must be regarded as a paradox.

The second paradox consists of an ambivalence toward the evangelical heritage. Why was it that fundamentalists looked to such an innovator as D. L. Moody while they claimed to preserve the old time religion? How did individualism and private interpretation come to play such a big part in the collective effort to save a civilization? Marsden points out the contrast between the individualism which he calls the pietist impulse and the organized and collective effort he ascribes to the Calvinist tradition.

The third paradox was evident in the tension that existed between trust and distrust of the intellect. “This involves the strong ambivalence that provides this book with its recurring motif.” Scottish Common Sense Realism, which had been the established doctrine of respectable science in the 19th century, was still advocated by most fundamentalists. It was considered outdated by the 1920’s.

Marsden is interested in these paradoxes because he believes that fundamentalism has been more than simply a reaction to the encroaching advance of secular civilization. And he believes that a theological definition of fundamentalism alone is not adequate, for this leaves too much tension; the paradoxes of fundamentalism are too obvious for either alternative alone to be adequate. How does one account for these things?

The answer this thesis argues is that the fundamentalism of the first quarter of the twentieth century represented the meeting of two incompatible streams. One of those streams was protestant orthodoxy: the fundamentalists stood for theological orthodoxy and therefore reacted against modernism. Modernism, however, did not represent merely a theological position, but a position that entailed a secular culture and the secularization of American culture. Likewise, the fundamentalist position sought to resist the culture of modernism, although not through conscious reflection. The fundamentalists were those who reacted by taking refuge in popular culture.

Marsden chronicles the change in attitude toward culture that the fundamentalists described as they became increasingly aware of the threat posed by modernism.

Curious Things

My first impressions of Robert Penn Warren’s All the King’s Men was how very much it resembled Faulkner . . . and Hemingway, I thought with some hesitation (they are so different; it was a curious mixture; I was left uncertain). I am awfully fond of Hemingway and Faulkner both. I need to spend a lot more time with Faulkner, and with Brooks on Faulkner. I do not feel that I need to spend a lot more time with Hemingway because I have done my time.

There are some author’s and some works it will not do to start on too soon. For me it was like that with Mellville. I started on Moby Dick too soon and was unable to proceed. Later I did Billy Budd, Foretopman and then got onto Moby Dick, after some disappointments, and did much better. So much did I enjoy Moby Dick that I read it again later. Something quite opposite has happened to me with Steinbeck. I have gloried as I have seldom gloried in the books of Steinbeck back when I was more confused and less conservative. I especially enjoyed East of Eden; I thought there were passages in there that were sheer poetry, and I exulted. I have read a great deal of his works for that is how it works with me: I find an author and I keep going like a broken record. And so for many years I enjoyed Steinbeck as I enjoyed few authors, but now I cannot stomach him.

I started out too soon, or perhaps rather in the wrong place with Hemingway. I thought he was all bravado; I quickly lost all interest. But then one day I somehow ended up with Death in the Afternoon. After that, there was no turning back, it all fell into place. It may be that had I read The Torrents of Spring first, I would have understood him by comparing that with his other works, but I did not run into that one until later.

I have been reading the third edition of Understanding Fiction. I cannot speak too highly of that book; Brooks and Warren have put together something really valuable again. The book has explanations for each thing they are covering and then stories. Some of the stories have a brief discussion after them, some only a series of questions, and some a long and involved discussion. You have to work your way through the textbook, without selecting or skipping, in order to get the whole effect, and the effect is very good. The long discussions are the best because they reiterate the theory given before the stories, using all the examples from the stories. And the discussions sometimes branch off into other minor elements in ways that are most enlightening.

They have a whole variety of author’s stories in this collection. (I have been introduced to Guy de Maupassant, who is really good.) And, in the collection, I just read one by Hemingway. It has a discussion after the story. The discussion is long. I have never read any criticism of Hemingway, but I would be surprised if there is anything out there (other than Hemingway’s Death in the Afternoon) that really explains Hemingway as well as Brooks and Warren do in this discussion–at least not something so brief.

The point of the discussions is not to tout an author, but simply to elucidate the point they are showing with the story. In this case it was the theme of the story. But the choice of theme, and how the style and characterization both serve to shape the theme, naturally brought them into an explanation of Hemingway I thought was really fine. There is no little admiration expressed in a way that would have been most gratifying to old Hemingway: altogether indirectly.

And after reading that discussion, there is no doubt in my mind that Robert Penn Warren managed to mingle in some Hemingway along with the Faulkner that was coming through in All the King’s Men. Of course, it is all his own, he is no immature imitator. Still, it is gratifying, especially considering I cannot seem to find me friends that enjoy Hemingway, to see the old boy living still in the influence of–of all people–the Southern Agrarians.

Two Influences

Originally, the opponents of fundamentalism understood fundamentalism to be the last remains of a passing way of life. That Marsden does not entirely dismiss the idea is evident when he says that fundamentalism “was militantly anti-modernist Protestant evangelicalism”. Marsden agrees with the modernists since both understand fundamentalism as clinging to the old and opposing the new.

Marsden also considers Sandeen’s suggestion that theology was at the heart of the fundamentalist movement. Marsden adds to millenarianism the doctrines of inerrancy and dispensationalism. The reason Marsden thinks Sandeen’s idea is not adequate is that it does not account for the whole. “This broader fundamentalism in turn had wider roots, cultural as well as theological and organizational.” Marsden wants to understand fundamentalism in terms that account for the culture that shaped it and also in terms of the culture which it shaped. Still, Marsden does not want to dismiss a theological understanding of fundamentalism.

**********

One does have to wonder whether it is right to distinguish out the particular doctrines of millenarianism, inerrancy and dispensationalism. I don’t have enough research to go into it, and it isn’t the point of the thesis, but for most of us these doctrines are not departures from orthodoxy: they are orthodoxy. They should have an effect on Christianity when they are elaborated more carefully, but not change its trajectory. I think Sandeen and Marsden both take these doctrines as something that changes the trajectory of a part of Christianity and contributes to fundamentalism. I would understand the development of the doctrine of inerrancy as the natural outcome of the concerted attacks on the Bible that were being sustained. Orthodoxy must always after affirm inerrancy; but these authors would hardly agree.

And I wonder if the emerging historical consciousness that I have read Lukacs hint at–and need to read more, some of which is the idea that Collingwood wrote about and was in the air before and in his day, for example: what he says about Hegel–had something to do with turning the mind toward viewing things in a way that made the dispensational approach come to light. I’m not thinking about a particular elaboration of dispensationalism, but the idea of thinking about Scripture synthetically more systematically and of locating oneself in an order that includes all of history. I wonder in a great deal of ignorance: I’m spinning together a light and unsubtle idea about dispensationalism and a very wispy thread of the thing I think Lukacs and Collingwood describe. Still, I wonder.

George M. Marsden, a View from 1980

For a quarter of a century George M. Marsden’s book on fundamentalism has been the definitive work in this field of study. In his work, Marsden refines all the previous views, adding to them, and arranging the whole so that the parts make better sense together.

As an aside, the staying power of Marsden’s book makes it all the more formidable. When Oxford put out the new edition 25 years later, he spent a year (from what I can tell) adding on a new appendix the size of a ThM thesis. It is thoroughly researched (one feels silly pointing that out) and deals with the developments in the literature since the first edition. But it does not change the main part of the book itself. You can even use the same pagination for all but the last section–thanks to the thoughtful editors at Oxford who expanded the size of the page and of the font, and still saved the scholars an awful lot of work. For Marsden’s work to remain the way it has, in the world of scholarly research, is no mean feat. Whatever he has to say stands well the test of time.

Ernest R. Sandeen, a View from 1970

Ernest R. Sandeen wrote because he thought the understanding of fundamentalism that prevailed was too limited; he wanted to expand it. This prevailing understanding, characteristic of the works of Cole and Furniss, took fundamentalism as the rural reaction to urban secularism, a reaction which culminated in the Scopes trial. Sandeen did not disagree with the prevailing understanding as long as it was not offered as an exhaustive definition.

In the social sources from which it drew its strength fundamentalism was closely related to the conflict between rural and urban cultures in America. Its popular leader was the agrarian W. J. Bryan; its rise coincided with the depression of agricultural values after the World War; it achieved little strength in the urban and industrial sections of the country but was active in many rural states. The opposing religious movement, modernism, was identified on the other hand with bourgeois culture, having its strength in the cities and in the churches supported by the urban middle classes.

Sandeen wanted a deeper explanation because he maintained that fundamentalism itself existed before and continued long after the controversies in the twenties. This observation sheds some light on the reason those who went before him were not able to define fundamentalism as clearly: they were not taking a wide enough scope of time; their view was limited, myopic.

For Sandeen, the statistical evidence was enough to overthrow the notion that the fundamentalists represented the rural resistance of an urban encroachment; the fundamentalists were not all from the farm. In fact, they were mainly city dwellers and carried on their greatest ministries in urban centers. Besides, he argued, they did not go away after the controversy as their enemies predicted. If fundamentalism was just a reaction to secularism culminating in the defeat at the Scopes monkey trial in 1925, why was it still around during the 1960′s? What distinguished fundamentalism as a lasting movement from the controversy in which it was so famously defeated? The crucial matter, for Sandeen, was theological: “For it is millenarianism which gave life and shape to the Fundamentalist movement.” Therefore, Sandeen examined the history of millenarianism in order to find the roots of fundamentalism.

Inside the Science Fiction

We spent the day yesterday mostly at Methodist Hospital. It is odd how much the place makes me want to write: that busy, teeming little city.

So we got there in the dark for them to screw a frame into Katrina’s cranium. Ten hours later they did the procedure. I think what took them long was the other man who was getting it done. He had cancer and the strategy for nuking the tumors in his brain was probably more involved than the strategy for nuking the tumor in Katrina’s pituitary gland.

The old man spent a long time in radiation. I glanced into a room in the Radiation Therapy department, as I walked past. I saw him sitting in a wheelchair and for the first time without the frame screwed into his head. He was bald from fourteen sessions of chemotherapy for the colon cancer that had now spread to his brain. He looked like death.

Methodist Hospital has good places in which to wait if you are not a patient. Katrina had a hard day of it, sitting in a chair for eight long hours, unable to rest her head on anything, with the pressure of the frame and the tension of the anticipated and unknown procedure. They gave her a little room, and they got her a comfortable reclining wheel-chair; but the waiting there is not so comfortable as the armchairs by the fire are.

I had an egg, some corned beef hash, and wandered through the cardiovascular center. I solved a problem I’ve been having with a chapter in my story that is very bad. I went back up to the third floor to stay with her. Then I went to lunch. I had a book of short stories by Barrington J. Bayley that I finished later on that day.* In the early afternoon I wheeled her around the hospital a bit. She was not feeling well around lunch and eventually gave up her breakfast. After that she was better. By the time the call came, she was standing where the nurse could not find her, holding up a magazine so she could read it through the frame that limited her view.

At last they took her in when it was dark outside again. She came out and her eyes were dull and dark; her speech furtive; two bandaids on her forehead. She could not stop shaking afterward; not all the way home.

On the way home I got an idea about another chapter for the Chronicles of Fundamentarlia. I was not allowed to share it because laughing made her head hurt, for the pressure of the frame on it all day, being removed, had left an almost frantic sense of greater pressure. Modern life is full of things bizarre. One wanders through it and one is not always sure that one is still awake.

*He puts together a story very nicely. He is nowhere so fine as Lord Dunsay, but still reminds me of him, somehow.

A Few of Waugh’s Favorite Things

Wodehouse

Very hard to photograph.

The Dunsany & Clarke correspondence was not one of the things Waugh admired, that I know of. But it is nice for me.

Norman F. Furniss, a View from 1963

While fundamentalists held to a different explanation, still the mainstream perception of fundamentalism, as rehearsed by Norman F. Furniss, continued in the vein of Cole. The difference was that Furniss exhibited more condescension. “Equally obvious with violence as a characteristic of the movement was ignorance, even illiteracy.” He treats the bygone battles less as battles of ideals and more as the confrontation of the enlightened against the ignorant. Fundamentalism, for Furniss, was the last of a battle already settled in the nineteenth century but still carried on by the desperate remnant of those who had not realized they were already vanquished.

As Sandeen argues, Furniss used selective evidence. Besides that, how can the cause of ignorance, illiteracy and violence, egotism and sentimentality, result in the concerted effort of a large group of people over the decades? These things may be characteristics and tendencies, but not the heart of the movement; these qualities do not combine to drive people, they destroy them. Furniss’ explanation leaves much to be desired.

While Cole’s thesis of the confrontation of cultures had been a little degraded, it was still the basic understanding with which Furniss operated. This approach was set aside in 1970 with the publication of Sandeen’s work.

Stewart G. Cole, a View from 1931

Stewart G. Cole. wrote one of the first books about fundamentalism. For him, the confrontation between the modernists and the fundamentalists was a confrontation of cultures.* Cole wrote with undisguised sympathy for the modernists, and he wrote only five years after the Scopes monkey trial. The value of his work is that it gives us the view of somebody who was there when the events took place, even though he is too hostile to portray fundamentalism dispassionately.

When he wrote, “Two cultures clashed within the Christian church,”** Cole meant that the culture of secularism and progress ran against the old ways; in his view, the fundamentalists wanted to keep the world from moving forward. Cole understood fundamentalism as a reaction to the progress of civilization: fundamentalism reacted against the culture that fostered such progress. Whatever else Cole was saying, it is clear that he believed the argument to be more about culture than about theology.

*Stewart G. Cole, The History of Fundamentalism (Hamden, CT: Archon, 1963, 1931), xi, 30, 35, 40, 52, 53, 64, 321, 328, 337.

**Ibid., 64.

Ok, once again I’m having troubles with the documentation, or its location, or something. Apparently, the last sentence is coming across as a bold assertion. You can see all the citations in the first footnote (an egregious thing, but I’m anticipating what I still received). I think the solution might be to insert a quotation right before the last sentence.

Of course, the problem could be that the whole thing is so repetitive that is just seems like I’m spinning my wheels and this is what is creating the impression that I’m just making a bold assertion in the last sentence. I suppose I could boil it all down to one paragraph that just says: Cole was there, he was a modernist, for him it was all a conflict of cultures, quotation.

But I think there is a gap between the last sentence and the rest of it. I might add:

Cole was not so interested in meeting the theological objections of fundamentalists as he was in finding a psychological explanation for their peculiar insistence on dogma. “It is just as clear that doctrinaires were unable to maintain their beliefs unconditioned. Psychologically, a fundamental became such for them, because it bore a vital relation to some desired outcome in a controversial situation.” It was the situation, the inevitable* change taking place in the world that drove the unnaturally dogmatic use of doctrine, in Cole’s view. He does not understand the fundamentalists as men who arrive at the situation with the doctrine, but who react to the situation by grasping their doctrine like never before. And if he were able to change their attitude toward the situation, which was the real obstacle, the doctrine would melt away. In this way Cole shows that he understood the fundamental problem to be cultural, not theological.

*Oh evitable! It does strike one how much an assumption that ways must change is necessary for the perpetuation of the liberal outlook in general.

Does that make sense?

The First Paragraph

Fundamentalism has always claimed to be nothing more than the old time religion. Scholars have not found this claim entirely satisfactory and have written many books to explain fundamentalism better. Since the beginning fundamentalism has been seen as a thing of the past and tied to a past culture, a notion that led many to predict its demise even from the first. The idea that fundamentalism must somehow be understood by taking culture into account has persisted, for it is found throughout the literature. A survey of the literature will demonstrate not only the presence of this idea, but the refinement of the idea, over time.

I start out with a generalization, but I think a pretty good one. My thinking is that it really cannot be denied and that it would look really pathetic for anybody to need a footnote to support that kind of a generalization. Where else can you go to hear special music about “Give Me the Old Time Religion”? Who preaches more on the book of Jude? Anyway, I’m being asked for citations and I don’t want to start out with citations on the very first sentence. I’ll go out of may way to avoid it just as much as I’ll go out of my way to begin with the generalization because it is everything in the grand scheme of things. I think it is too much already that I have a footnote in the introductory paragraph; it is pedantical.

I have spend a lot of time on this paragraph, and it still seems to be giving me trouble, but it is the first paragraph so it is going to take some work. What I need is a way to state the first sentence without seeming to push too much.

Fundamentalism has always claimed to be nothing more than the old time religion.

As a generalization, the statement that fundamentalism is nothing more than the old time religion is a pretty good one.

See, that sounds like I’m quoting somebody who said that (or just congratulating myself like I did above) and it is bit too conversational for what I’m doing. But it is going in the direction I want to go. How to fix it?

The Cat Is Out of the Bag

565 views today.

Some person on SI posted a link that wasn’t axed by the vigilant in time (for that thread on the notorious Norman Weiss it seemed like they axed as many as they kept). I had not hoped to bring this upon myself. I admit I bungled my expulsion from SI by using the Clive Staples Donkey. But this?

Maybe now I should make it my goal to get back on the blog-roll while still remaining banned the privileges of membership. That ought to be a bit more challenging goal for the next stage of my relationship with SI.

Well, now it is forward. I have this thesis to finish by the end of February. In order to see about regaining some interest in it, I’m going to post bits of it and ask for suggestions. I was unsuccessful in getting people to read it last time I tried. Perhaps in bits it will be more interesting.

One of the things that needs to improve is the style. I wrote it this summer in great bitterness of soul, and the state of the soul has a lot to do with one’s style. I revised it with loathing and despondency all through the fall. Now it will be a little more scholarly; written in a state of general apathy–which is better than general irritation and more manageable than loathing–it will be more like the meager and unambitious work of those who labor in what passes for the academy nowadays. That ought to help it.

And then after that I can be free till they look through it again which always takes a while!

10 Reasons Why Norman Weiss Is Bogus

1 Because of his incendiary tone where that stupid moron* flames the ministers of God using harsh, imprudent and way exaggerated-against-solid-men-of-God language. Folks, it just isn’t right the way that guy uses elitist vocabulary against fundamenalists. He has fancy words and I do not think they mean good things. I highly doubt that his vocabulary is God-honoring. Yes, in fact, there is a good reason for us not knowing half of what he’s saying: if our mom’s ever caught us speaking with that kind of language, we need to wash our brains.

2 Now I don’t want to cut myself off any lower than I have to on this one, but I really think that Norman Weiss is an ethicist. That is right, I said the “E” word. I had to. No use beating around the bush on this one, folks. Too much of a good thing is too much of a good thing.

3 Because of his arrogancy of tone. He actually squeals when he says such things out loud. I have heard it. I have been there and I have heard it. Folks, it is time to realize that nobody who uses the King James speaks this way. It is just not proper. He minces around with his high tone, and his lifted up pitch, and he thinks he is just so smart, and his fancy clothes, and his designer shoes, and his fancy food, and his slick haircuts, and I just do not think a Bible-Institute-Trained person ought to speak that way.

4 He is letting too many things in the ear gate and the eye gate that ought to be going through the Apollonian gate of the spiritual navel. Now everybody who’s solid is going to agree that there I have a mighty strong point. I say neither that he is for us or against us. But he that is not for us or against us, is still something, you have to admit that. Now when I was young, people used to be either for you or against you and that was that. Nowadays, we have these new-fangled, hippie, communist, middle-of-the-road compromisers. All I say is that even if he is not for us or against us, he is still something. That is troubling.

5 Now, it probably escaped the notice of even such discerning persons as our brother Brian McCrorie that this scum Weiss has a picture on the top of his blog which in the full and unedited version contains nudity. Ouch! Sad but true. Yes, let me be the first, if the most reluctant, to point this out. That is what it has. Is this what godly Bible teachers put on their blogs?

6 What about accountability to a New Testament Independent Fundamenal Baptist KJV church? Is there any? What about the accountability if some leader in fundamenalism doesn’t like the man’s tone? There is absolutely no mechanism they can use to control him. This is highly unsettling because it is just so contrary to everything we have been taught.

7 He does not have a position on length of hair. Let us face it: NOWHERE ON HIS BLOG DOES HE STATE THIS! I can understand not having a doctrinal statement, that’s catholic. I can understand not spelling out what the most Biblical form of the invitation is because there ought to be liberty just like there ought to be invitations. I can even understand not taking a position with regard to whether there should be any other hymnals than the Majesty. BUT you must state your position on hair.

8 Because Norman Weiss is guilty of the sin of cowardice. You may say that you have never seen him back down. That is because he is afraid to admit that he is wrong! Folks, how long does it have to go on this way? Oh for some David to call this Goliath’s bluff! Why is it that we think he is brave just because he uses and antonym? Not that I’m condoning the use of antonyms, far from it. I don’t go for antonyms or synonyms and I don’t think they’re solid. I do not find them in the King James! But just because he uses an antonym does not mean that he is brave. Cowardice is a sin, but not the sin of cowardice. It is another sin, but still a sin, and let us make no mistake about which sin it is.

9 Because Norman Weiss is an apostate whose harsh rhetoric is too harsh for the sensitive ears of those who listen to solid, fundamenal music. Let us face it. It may be that because this man does not listen to the sounds of solid ministries his ears and the ears of his followers have grown calloused, as the King James states. Look, if you go to Florida, you are going to get a tan. That is just a fact. If you don’t listen to fundamenal music, why should you think that spewing out harsh rhetoric is anything but loving? It just makes sense.

10 And finally, Norman Weiss is bogus because he simply is not true. Who can believe him? He is all a tissue of lies for one to blow one’s nose on. I had a dream while I was studying for my sermon, and in my dream I was not awake. And with that I realized that Norm Weiss was using the false and misleading pseudonym (I don’t believe in those either) because he simply was trying to deceive the people. Folks, we need to wake up! As long as this fellow is around and not exposed, the devil might as well take some PTO and relax on the beach or record some music. Now you may think that is harsh. “Hey, maybe Norman Weiss doesn’t have the benefits of a two year certificate in recycling plastic from BJU! Give him a break!” Folks, it is time to realize that this cannot go on. It is time to put a cork in his mouth for the sake of what we love and hold dear. Some people are being led astray by agreeing with him which just erodes the cause of truth.

*Edited to remove the offense that I committed.

Oh no! They said his name!!

It looks like it is time to put a full blown Life of Dissidens out there . . . just as an example of tough love, you know?

Where it all started:

One day Mrs. Dissidens Sr. had a baby. She wanted to call the baby Sue, but her husband pointed out that it might be associated with a song by Johnny Cash. So she suggested Jason, then Brian, but (fortunately!) both were rejected by the sagacious Mr. Dissidens Sr.

“No,” he said, “We’ll call him Norm.”

“As in, Norman?”

“Yes, William the Conqueror and all that stuff.”

“I’d like to call him Roman, or Fundoevangelical.”

“I like the idea of calling him Fundoevangelical.”

So the Dissidens’s called their baby ‘Fundoevangelical’. And he grew and waxed eloquent and was not so keen on the tea or on wonderbread. But he was secretive.

Later he had trouble because nobody thought he could be called Fundoevangelical Dissidens. So he consulted with his father (but not his mother) and changed his name to something else, although he kept his surname for blogging.

***

One day Jason Janz and Brian McRorie were sitting around wondering why they had a blog exclusively dedicated to the blog of dissidens . . .

Eats, Shoots & Leaves

This book by Lynne Truss is subtitled: A Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation. It comes with a bibliography of some forty other books on punctuation and English usage.

I loved it. It has awakened my inner stickler, and when I am good, I’m going to take it out on other people. This book has helped me to see punctuation in a mystical light (129-130). I used to think punctuation was a sort of musical notation in grammar. Then I recently realized it operates on the basis of grammatical rules. Now I have come to understand that it is all about clarity of thought. That last puts it all into the right perspective; now I want to master punctuation.

What Does It Mean?

I can’t help thinking it means something that the thread on Bauder’s Time of Nick ends up being yet another back and forth about Remonstrans.

I’m very foolish.

I have never enjoyed SI like I have these past months.

Reunion

I listened to A Grief Observed the other day. I read it first about 4 years ago, the summer I read Saving the Appearances. I hadn’t noticed then how Lewis talks about the notion that there are going to be reunions after death. I liked what he said: that he never found the idea in Scripture.

I don’t know how it all works out for my eschatology. I just know that I’m a progressive dispensationalist and I don’t have any of the details down. I’d not be able to answer a question about the rapture or the tribulation or any of that stuff. I agree with whatever we agree with there, I’m sure. But it seemed to me that Lewis’s idea isn’t really going to fly with the millennium. Or is it?

I like the strangeness of his notion, the notion that we don’t know anything about what will happen after we die, but that it will be nothing like what we know now, nothing at all. I have thought for a long time that I would like to write a story about a fundamentalist who thought he’d end it all and escape to heaven by committing suicide. He’d be under the impression that it was a calculated loss, his eternal security would kick in, and he would just have to get chewed out by God and then go on to eternal bliss. But that would not be what would happen, heheheheh.

The main part of the story would be him trying to avoid the inescapable conclusion that he is in what could only be described as purgatory and that he had to go through whatever it is he was trying to avoid with his economist’s approach to eternal matters still. It is a very attractive idea for a story. Maybe one day I’ll figure out how exactly I want to do it; I think it would be a lark.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 53 other followers