Toward a Theology of Nostalgia: Advent, Anglicanism, and Angst
November 30, 2009
In the penetential spirit of Advent, I offer this confession…
I am Seething Lump of Paradox
I have long been fixated on a particular paradox that in many ways defines me, and explains many of the things that I do. One way of articulating this paradox is to say that I am at once a hippie and an wanna-be aristocrat. That is to say that I am simultaneously driven by a desire to see social and economic justice done on earth, and by the lure of ivory towers, fine living, and of all the “gentlemanly” things one would expect a landed, well-bred, roman-nosed, trust-funded English baron might be interested in and driven by: wine, falconry (don’t laugh you bastards), heraldry, the “classics,” architecture, fox-hunting, mahogany furniture, etc., etc., etc.
One look inside my closet provides an example of the near schizophrenic behavior this paradox has pushed me to. Over the past 5 years my wardrobe buying patterns have oscillated between garb befitting an English country gentleman (replete with bow ties, hunting and smoking jackets [God forbid you wear your hunting jacket in the smoking parlor, or your smoking jacket whilst hunting harts in Her Majesties' Forests]), and all fair-trade, eco-friendly, anti-sweatshop attire (No Sweat Shoes, shirts made of organic cotton by a women-run co-op in Nepal).
By confessing my confusion, I hope to put my turning to Anglicanism/Episcopalianism into perspective. In Anglicanism have found an entire Communion of Christians who are living the very same paradox that is me. Torn between justice and tradition; landed and monied, serving fair trade coffee and running day centers for the homeless; mixing gothic architecture with radical hospitality; this is what being Anglican is about. Two rows behind me at church, a retired international investment banker sits next to a homeless woman whose grocery cart full of tin cans is parked next to the big red doors which proclaim to the city “this is a sanctuary for all.” Anglicanism is a way for me to live in tension with myself and not be consumed by guilt on the one hand (that hand which is elegantly gloved in black calf-skin), or self-righteousness on the other (that hand which offers a warm meal to a stranger in the park).
Nostalgia and Advent
Nostalgia is the best word for what drives my wanna-be aristocratic side. And–since I grew up in a trailer park and have no land, nor title, nor bank accounts brimming with neither old or new money–it is really a nostalgic longing for a time and place that I have never experienced first hand. I am nostalgic for some idealized version Edwardian British Imperial domesticity that neither I nor my family had any part in whatsoever. Simultaneously, I am revolted by the oppression, and the economic, environmental, and cultural destruction that such imperialism has wreaked on our planet and on my fellow human beings in places like Africa and the Indian sub-continent. Interestingly, in this huge colonial morass I come again to Anglicanism, which was, at different points in history and sometimes simultaneously, an endorser, a restraint, and a healer of this imperial carnage.
Where does this nostalgia come from? Obviously, the answer is the books I’ve read, the TV shows and movies I’ve watched. As a boy, Tolkien and Lewis colonized my imagination (they might as well have raised a British flag over it), and turned me into an insufferable Anglophile.
Whereas my nostalgia (which extends far beyond my Anglophilism) can and does get me in trouble, it is also one of the reasons Advent is my favorite season of the Church calendar. Advent is about having a nostalgia for the Kingdom Reality that one has not yet fully experienced. It is an intense longing for a time and place both in the past and the future, which drives one to work for that Reality in the present.
A form of nostalgia is also at work in the active colonization of a sacred Christian feast by the demonic forces of materialism and consumption (and so my hippie side once again raises its dreadlocked head). A highly manipulated nostalgia for the idealized Platonic Form of Christmas Past is at the very heart of the advertising frenzy which causes shoppers to literally kill each other in the race to buy things that they have been convinced will allow them to relive those glory days of Christmases gone by: when everything was perfect, everyone was happy, and the big fuzzy horses trotted by pulling a sleigh down the gas-lamplit street as snow began to fall on the head of Tiny Tim as he uttered the immortal words, “Walt Disney bless us, bless us every one.”
I don’t know anyone who has ever lived this Hallmark Channel Christmas, and yet we are all willing to sell our souls to corporate America on the promise that if we just put up the decorations early enough, and open a few more credit cards this Christmas will be the Christmas. Nostalgia is a dangerous thing.
That is why Advent is so important to me. Through Advent Christ offers me the chance to have my nostalgic imagination colonized by the Kingdom of God, rather than by the Kingdom of the World. Advent is a tool to keep my out-of-control selfishness at bay and to paradoxically allow me to live in the moment that God has given me, while lifting my head in nostalgic anticipation for the Future that brings about our collective redemption.
Born Alone. Die Alone.
November 29, 2009

He brought him outside and said, ‘Look towards heaven and count the stars, if you are able to count them.’ Then he said to him, ‘So shall your descendants be.’ And he believed the Lord; and the Lord reckoned it to him as righteousness.

Night Sky at Petra, Jordan
Adapting a prominent cliché, Orson Wells famously said, “We’re born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we’re not alone.” While impressively stoic, the faith community behind Genesis 15 would likely find Wells’ statement absurd.
In Abraham’s world—a less individualistic, less literal place—such a sentiment would be unthinkable. It could be argued that the very goal of life was to insure one did not die alone, and that those for whom one was responsible were not born alone. These relationships could never be illusions, for they were the very means by which one survived in a harsh world especially cruel to loners. Communities did not exist to create a bubble of happiness. They existed to make existence possible. Thus, the irony of ancestor and descendant was one of origin and legacy: A son found his identity in his father. The father lived forever through his son.
This ancient vision of community should give readers in our radically individualistic culture pause when considering the nature of God’s promises in the Abraham cycle. The guarantee of an heir was an offer of eternal significance and the prospect of land was an offer of elected provision. The significance of showing Abraham stars is not merely to showcase their number, but their permanence. The intimacy of 15:6 should not be missed. What is happening between God and Abraham is not something that can be described in a series of steps or in dialogue as in the first five verses, but only observed from a theological distance. It would seem Abraham’s faith and subsequent righteousness is neither the result of an obedient act nor a pious prayer but a feat accomplished while stargazing.
From his son, Abraham would discover his place within community. From the stars he would discover his place in creation. New Testament communities would later locate his place within salvation history. Christians today are called to discern no less. By faith we explore these three relationships—God, community and creation. They are not illusions, nor the byproduct of our selfish ambitions. They are the reality that we’re never alone.
What a Nifty Idea – “Robert’s Rules of Theological Blog Debate”
November 25, 2009
We, here at theophiliacs (a group of young upstarts that make frequent and protracted forays outside of our own areas of expertise), have kicked around the notion of posting a list of “comment rules.” Either because we are too damn lazy or because our detractors never stick around long enough for us to actualize the need for said rules, we have never posted anything of the sort.
I, gentle reader, have decided to do something about it – well, no, not really… what I have decided to do is lift a very clever post from Fr. Robert Hart over at The Continuum in it’s entirety. Hey! It’s Thanksgiving, be happy I am trolling the internets at all – and I quote from “Go West“:
No one should want to come across like the east end of a west bound horse. But it happens, and all too often it happens in debate. Even theological debate can lead to this when anyone fails to heed the maxim of our blog founder, Albion Land: “Robust if polite, discussion of matters theological and ecclesiological.” The problem with ignoring this rule, even more than that of causing offense, is the appearance of heading east while the horse goes west; or as a Pennsylvania Dutch farmer once observed: “Vy ist der more horse’s asses dann horses?”
Therefore, I want to present Robert’s Rules of theological blog debate for the benefit of young men who need to go west, provided that is where the horse is pointed. Breaking these rules causes one to lose points; not to lose them by any referees call, but in the eyes of onlookers.
Each of the following violations results in a loss of ten points.
1. No ad hominem attacks
Example:
Voice of Reason said:
I must disagree with Theocrat’s interpretation of the commandment. “Thou shalt not commit adultery” cannot possibly mean that we should not fry our food in anything but “pure unadulterated vegetable oil.”
2:41 AMTheocrat said:
You are ugly and your mama dresses you funny.
2:42 AMNotice, the response fails to actually answer the objection. Therefore, the ad hominem attack does nothing to argue one’s point.
2. No repetition of a disputed point without first answering the challenge.
Example:
Voice of Reason said:
I must disagree with Theocrat’s interpretation of the commandment. “Thou shalt not commit adultery” cannot possibly mean that we should not fry our food in anything but “pure unadulterated vegetable oil.”
2:41 AMTheocrat said:
As I was saying, “Thou shalt not commit adultery” means that we should not fry our food in anything but pure unadulterated vegetable oil.
2:42 AMThe weakness of this approach is that it does not fool anybody. The challenge has been evaded, not refuted.
3. No Bulverism.
For the definition, I quote from “Bulverism” by C.S. Lewis, an essay in the collection entitled God in the Dock. 1
You must show that a man is wrong before you start explaining why he is wrong. The modern method is to assume without discussion that he is wrong and then distract his attention from this (the only real issue) by busily explaining how he became so silly. In the course of the last fifteen years I have found this vice so common that I have had to invent a name for it. I call it “Bulverism”. Some day I am going to write the biography of its imaginary inventor, Ezekiel Bulver, whose destiny was determined at the age of five when he heard his mother say to his father — who had been maintaining that two sides of a triangle were together greater than a third — “Oh you say that because you are a man.” “At that moment”, E. Bulver assures us, “there flashed across my opening mind the great truth that refutation is no necessary part of argument. Assume that your opponent is wrong, and the world will be at your feet. Attempt to prove that he is wrong or (worse still) try to find out whether he is wrong or right, and the national dynamism of our age will thrust you to the wall.” That is how Bulver became one of the makers of the Twentieth Century.
Example:Voice of Reason said:
I must disagree with Theocrat’s interpretation of the commandment. “Thou shalt not commit adultery” cannot possibly mean that we should not fry our food in anything but “pure unadulterated vegetable oil.”
2:41 AMTheocrat said:
Well, that is exactly what we would expect to hear, coming from you.
2:42 AMThe weakness of this approach is explained in the quotation of C.S. Lewis, with this one additional observation of mine: Bulverism only works if those who observe the non-argument it produces happen to be outrageously stupid. Therefore, the loss of points may be doubled.
4. No attempt at diagnosis.
This breaks down into two kinds.
a) Psychological.
Example:
Voice of Reason said:
I must disagree with Theocrat’s interpretation of the commandment. “Thou shalt not commit adultery” cannot possibly mean that we should not fry our food in anything but “pure unadulterated vegetable oil.”
2:41 AMTheocrat said:
Are you nuts?
2:42 AMb) Spiritual (or moral)
Example:
Voice of Reason said:
I must disagree with Theocrat’s interpretation of the commandment. “Thou shalt not commit adultery” cannot possibly mean that we should not fry our food in anything but “pure unadulterated vegetable oil.”
2:41 AMTheocrat said:
I perceive that thou art in the gall of bitterness, and in the bond of iniquity.
2:42 AMLike Bulverism and repetition, the attempt to diagnose is also an obvious evasion of the actual challenge posed by refutation.
In closing
You may have noticed that we see in these rules that points are taken away and none given. I may actually write Robert’s Rules for gaining points in theological blog debate, but only if I ever figure out how that can be acheived.
1. God in the Dock: Essays on Theology and Ethics, C. S. Lewis, Walter Hooper (Editor), Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Company; Reprint edition (October 1994; original copyright 1970 by the Trustees of the Estate of C. S. Lewis).
And so, I offer you, Fr. Robert Hart a hearty congratulations on a wicked-clever list of rules by which we can all post.
He Who Screams Loudest… Must Be A Hypocrite?
November 24, 2009
I ran across this article while trolling the internets: Hypocrites
I mention it, because it sparks one of those unofficial and probably ill-informed ideas I have about people. Is it just me, or has anyone else noticed that those people who seem the most outspoken, even vitriolic, about certain issues tend to have their own person struggle with the issue?
This phenomenon was most clearly demonstrated to me when in my early twenties. When one of the Vice Presidents of a certain college was caught surfing pornography in his office late into the night (a scandal that later uncovered pornography use by two professors – and the rampant use in the dorms, duh?) , I had a friend that seemed to react more than others. In fact, his response was negative in the extreme. We happened to be attending church where the aforementioned VP sang in the choir, and my friend would literally shake with fury that the man was not being paraded around on stage as a heretic and pervert.
“Months later, in tears, he confessed his own horrible struggle with pornography.”
I remember initially thinking, “you freaking hypocrite, how dare you pursue a personal vendetta against someone for doing the exact same thing.” However, since he was coming to me for mercy and accountability, I decided that wasn’t the best response.
My feelings have since changed about that encounter, but I cannot help noticing that this overreaction seems to be common in people. Why is it that they lash out and attack things in others when they know they are struggling with it, too?
Apparently, there are a lot of famous people that fit this profile (you know, being an obnoxious opponent of something while engaging in the behavior themselves). So, in the spirit of the web article I linked, and in the hopes of snatching the title of “most controversial blogger at theophiliacs” away from James for at least one day – here is an amended list of the most famous, obnoxious hypocrites in recent memory.
Just in case anyone wants to pick a fight, allow me one caveat. Please remember the point of my post – I am NOT trying to highlight the sins of other people. The person whose wickedness I am best informed of happens to be me. I know my own demons well. The point of the list is to demonstrate that there seems to be a pattern of people viciously attacking a problem/”sin” of which they happen to be quite guilty.
Let’s get the obvious, preachers, out of the way first.
Jim Bakker – I know you remember him, he was one of the first to create the modern stereotype of bad-hair brandishing, too much make-up wife marrying, golden fixtures on the stage while orating, televangelists: charged with 24 counts of fraud and conspiracy for pocketing nearly $4 million from contributions to PTL in order to maintain what the government called a, “lavish and extravagant life-style.” The combination of preacher and “lavish and extravagant life-style” ought to be hypocrisy enough for anyone. However, you’ll remember this all came about because of that famous trist with Jessica Hahn.
Jimmy Swaggert – who can forget that theatrical, bible-thumping, A/G preacher who was ousted for his own infidelity after dispatching another pastor with a rival TV ministry (Marvin Gorman, pastor of First A/G in New Orleans) upon learning of his extra-marital affair in confidence.
Ted Haggard – this is probably recent enough for you to remember, but I quote the article by MSN,
“He was pastor to thousands, president of the National Association of Evangelicals and consultant to presidential strategist Karl Rove. Ted Haggard, 52, was also a regular customer of male prostitute Mike Jones, who in 2006 claimed monthly, drug-fueled romps with the preacher. Haggard confessed to “sexual immorality” and resigned from his Colorado Springs’ New Life Church. As Jones later told the New York Times, “Here is Ted preaching about being shameful — You won’t see the kingdom of God if you’re gay, and blah, blah, blah — and then he sneaks around with me.”
Rush Limbaugh – Let’s face it, his rhetoric is mystifying. The man may be obnoxious (and a hypocrite), but he is good at what he does.
“If people are violating the law by doing drugs,” Rush Limbaugh pontificated in 1995, “they ought to be accused and they ought to be convicted and they ought to be sent up.” Eight years later, the radio giant was himself under investigation for violating drug laws, and after three years of legal wrangling, Limbaugh was charged in Florida with fraudulently concealing information to procure prescription drugs. Translation: He allegedly “doctor shopped” to feed an addiction to painkillers.
Eliot Spitzer – There has been a lot of ink spilled over this guy, and I still feel most sorry for his wife.
Jaws dropped in March when the New York Times identified holier-than-thou New York Gov. Eliot Spitzer as Client 9 of a big-bucks prostitution ring. Wasn’t Spitzer, 49, the white knight who vowed to restore ethics to Albany? The guy who, as state attorney general, routed out Wall Street corruption? The same crusading prosecutor who only years earlier had busted up prostitution rings? Indeed it was.
Bill Bennett – I just become more and more disillusioned with people associated to the Bushes and Reagans
Education secretary for President Reagan and the first President Bush’s drug czar, Bill Bennett, 65, calls himself in his official bio “a man of strong, reasoned convictions.” He writes books with titles like “The Moral Compass” and “The Book of Virtues: A Treasury of Great Moral Stories.” Basically, not the kind of guy expected to lose an estimated $8 million over a decade at video poker and slot machines. But in 2003, the Washington Monthly revealed Bennett had done just that. Perhaps recalling his own harsh words toward irresponsible addicts, America’s morality maven said he would quit gambling.
Laurie David – just in case you think we’re only picking on conservatives here.
The go-to green gal for Oprah Winfrey and other media titans, Laurie David, 50, has done more to sound the global warming alarm than almost anyone except her chum Al Gore. She even produced the former vice president’s Oscar-winning documentary, “An Inconvenient Truth.” So why does the soon-to-be ex-wife of comedian Larry David keep homes in both California and Massachusetts, and fly a private jet between the two?
Strom Thurmond – this guy is just so creepy
This controversial son of the South led the splinter party Dixiecrats in the 1948 presidential campaign on a pro-segregation platform. After losing his White House bid, Thurmond served a record 47 years in the U.S. Senate, punctuated by his 24-hour, 18-minute filibuster (another record) against the 1957 civil rights bill. Yet throughout this era, he knew he had fathered a child of an African-American housekeeper. The child, Essie Mae Washington-Williams, was 78-years-old when Thurmond died at age 100 and it became public that she was his daughter. As the New York Times indelicately put it, Washington-Williams is “the unacknowledged mixed-race daughter of the Senate’s most notorious white supremacist.”
Thanks again to Ian Hodder, contributor for MSN – I borrowed nearly all of the “footwork” from him (here)
What the Frack?
November 23, 2009

I got home from school today and had received in the mail a fancy little paper booklet. It was professional looking yet casual. On the cover it read “Overcome: Brighter Days are Ahead”
Turning the page there is more hip design; a drawn picture of a car whose nose is stuck in a snow drift and an invitation to “Overcome…the ‘Barrier’ ” followed by a series of questions:
- “What is it that’s holding me back?”
- “Is there a nagging feeling that you just can’t overcome? It’s like your wheels are turning, but the reality is – it feels like you’re not going anywhere. You may be stressed. Frustrated with yourself. And crabby.
- “Is there Hope?”
On the next page we are urged to “Overcome…the ‘Mirror:’ This is not who I was supposed to be.”
- Did you once have high hopes about how you were going to turn out? The career. The marriage. The body. Your outlook on life. You see your reflection staring back and wonder, “What Happened to Me?”
- “Is this really me?”
Also, I guess, we are supposed to overcome “The Comparison”
- I’ve gotta have MORE and do MORE.”
- Where did that feeling of contentment go? The desire to matter, to leave your mark. Now, it’s not enough. You want more. The house isn’t big enough. The car isn’t nice enough. Other people seem to be living the dream…
- “Why Can’t I?”
Well if I or you are suffering from such upper-middle-class maladies and live in the Twin Cities you can “Overcome whatever it is that holds you back in life” at one of Three convenient locations where you are all going to hear the same rock-star message from “Mr. Important” who, having invested massive amounts of money, is able to transmit his message live to video screens at whatever other two locations do not have him.
Apparently “Bible Based” churches are excused from such blatant christ-less/gospel-less pointless dribble. But what rubs me raw is that it’s the same that get all heated up on Mainline churches “abandoning the Gospel” – what with they gays and all. I’m so glad that “Bible Based” churches have no problems with not preaching the Gospel.
No thanks EagleBrook in three convenient locations. I’ve already got a McDonalds a block away where I can have my children cared for in a tub of balls without being told that my experience there is “Bible Based.” The healing of my existential problems for being amongst the richest in the world with time to burn on my self image and self pity will have to wait until you add a fourth convenient location half a block away from my house.
Christendom, the Reformation, and Baptist Polity: Part III
November 20, 2009
John Smyth and Thomas Helwys Unleash a Burgeoning Polity and Theology
Insofar as church polity had been about political control for the previous one hundred years, the goals and aspirations of the Separatists, and eventually the Free Church movement, were politically conceived as well. However, their political aspirations did not seek to have the national Church succumb to their demands; rather, they sought to have the true church come out from under the authoritarian and adulterous relationship it had endured with the magistracy. This, consequently, was not a direct complaint against the episcopacy as much as it was a plea for religious freedom.
As an Anglican priest, to say Smyth had only political problems with the Anglican Church would be a gross mischaracterization, however, the consolidation of James’ political power within the church prevented those theological problems from being worked out in an ecclesiastical setting. In fact, Smyth had personally exercised a myriad of options searching for the means to deal with the discrepancies he saw. Coffey explains:
“Smyth went through a prodigious number of religious incarnations; he began his career as a puritan within the Church of England, became an Independent, moved on to separatism, baptized himself, and finally joined the Waterlanders, a Dutch Mennonite sect. Although his 1610 Confession of Faith was published before he had joined the Mennonites, it reveals significant Anabaptist influences, not least in its comprehensive statement on freedom of religion: the magistrate, wrote Smyth, was ‘not to meddle with religion or matters of conscience’.”[1]
This left Smyth and those like him having to reject political power in order to have theological dialogue. Like Luther and Calvin before them, their attempt to call the church to theological purity was hindered by demagoguery, though some would have certainly accused Luther and Calvin of being demagogues themselves at this point.
All of this inner turmoil and self-discovery culminated in a concerted effort along with Richard Bernard, Thomas Helwys, and others to begin to meet at Gainsborough in 1606 under the auspices of a Separatist congregation in order to formerly resist the established church of King James.[2] Shortly, this congregation was forced to flee to Amsterdam, because of Anglican persecution. Under the influence of Dutch theologian Jacob Arminius, no doubt, this small congregation, lead by Smyth and Helwys, were persuaded that, “baptism should be administered only to those who could testify to a work of grace in their lives and that infant baptism had no precedent in the New Testament.”[3] This subsequent conviction regarding believer’s baptism would become a staple of Baptist faith and polity, and would also prove to be the theological axiom by which their conclusions of separation of Church and State were derived. However, it also proved to be the sticking point for Smyth and drove him to seek membership with the Waterlander Mennonites, which was still pending at the time of his death.[4]
While a Baptist theology was definitely still emerging by the time Smyth’s congregation broke from Helwys in favor of the Waterlanders, Baptist polity had emerged from out of its Separatist and Anabaptist surroundings as a movement toward “extreme toleration.” Helwys even propagated that religious freedom ought to extend to all “peaceable religions,” arguing that the magistracy’s power could not extend to the spirits of men.[5] He rejected more than the political abuses of the episcopacy. He rejected the whole of the Catholic Church in all its forms in favor of a free congregational polity. Indeed, he moved the congregation back to England, in Spitalfields, just outside of London in order to become an evangelistic presence in the “city of the Beast.” This is officially recognized as the first Baptist congregation on English soil.[6]
Helwys’ increasing insistence that the magistrate ought to have no dealings with the church, though Christians could belong to the magistracy, gave rise to church polity founded in the theological notion that the believer’s priesthood supplants not only the Levitical priesthood but also the episcopacy. This was due, in part, because Helwys viewed the episcopacy in both political and theological terms. In Helwys’ mind, it was congruent to simultaneously call for civil toleration from the episcopacy, because they had no right to impose religious views, and proclaim God’s intolerance/judgment upon that same institution, because of the Christian hypocrisy that it engendered. By this time, what began as a civic protest with Smyth and other Separatists had turned into a theological polemic.
The political rejection of the Anglican Church and its use of the episcopacy turned quickly into a theological rejection of the Anglican Church as a whole for Helwys and his followers, which, in-turn nearly ended in a theologically unsound entity. Maclear notes that, “Even obvious polity differences were eclipsed by anti-Anglican polemic.”[7] During the next thirty years, men like Helwys and Barrow would discover that the intricacies of Separatism would be explored in thought and practice, and would come to realize the “disruptive tendencies that conservative Puritanism had been trying to keep in check.”[8] Namely, the very parameters of a congregational church which existed outside the boundary of magisterial authority existed in an experimental realm. There was no doctrine or dogma that could currently speak to the group because they had effectively removed themselves from magisterial restraint, and the group was consequently impotent in dealing with its own problems.[9] Because of their political ostracizing, they were left with no readily available authority structure to deal with errant theology outside of self-regulation. After a generation of battling for religious liberty, the Free Church hardly had the fortitude now to battle internally for doctrinal purity. This theological deconstruction, which came at the hands of their religious liberty, had the effect of amplifying the alienation the group felt. Consequently, many of the initial movement left with other English Puritans to pursue religious freedom in the Colonies.
Conclusion
The episcopacy of the Catholic Church had run unchecked for hundreds of years, and when the need for change in the Church reached its apex those who fought for the purity of Christ’s church found themselves battling much more than the false teachings of a priesthood who had fattened themselves with magisterial authority. They found themselves battling self-propagating notions of authority and structure.
Initially, the Baptist response, in its seminal years, addressed largely political arenas, much like the context into which it spoke. As that polity was tested and gained articulation, however, it became clear to its adherents that the very system by which it tried to argue its tenets was skewed against them. There was no use in trying to wrest political control from a governmental entity by Spiritual means. Nonetheless, as the early Baptist church pursued its calling, believers pioneered the notions of separation of Church and State and religious freedom that became theological cornerstones for colonial Christianity.
[1] Ibid.
[2] Jason K. Lee, The Theology of John Smyth, (Macon: Mercer University Press, 2003), 46.
[3] Bill J. Leonard, Baptists in America, (New York: Columbia University Press, 2007), 8.
[4] Ibid., 9.
[5] Coffey, “Puritanism and Liberty Revisited,” 964.
[6] Leonard, Baptists in America, 9.
[7] Maclear, “The Birth of the Free Church,” 103.
[8] Ibid., 104.
[9] Ibid., 109.




The factors contributing to this change of public heart are diverse and disputed, but at least one underlying cause is shifting views on the nature of personal morality and societal ethics—especially amongst those voting for the first time in the 21st century. Reflecting from within the Judeo-Christian tradition, I believe we can find a fresh relevance for our ancient texts in this environment of cultural redefinition. In particular, the portrait of Holiness as defined by ritual purity, individual behavior and social justice as found in the Law passages of Exodus and Leviticus offer a unique moral vision to the upcoming post-culture war generation.



