Mathematics After The Fall

It’s rare to find a single thing that encapsulates both what I appreciate and what I disdain about a subject. The last minute and a half of this Colbert Report clip. In it, Philip Zimbardo tries to suggest that Lucifer was right, showing incomplete knowledge of theology. Stephen Colbert takes 30 seconds of national cable show time to provide proper perspective. And he gets cheered! When Dr. Zimbardo notes that the host learned well in Sunday School, the response is above: “I teach Sunday School, M—–F—–!” It’s funny. It’s also true, as Colbert notes in this Parade interview. There’s even a blog about Catholic Colbert, which contains clips and information on elements of faith in the show. I didn’t find the time where Colbert recited the Creed, but for an excellent example of Catholic social teaching, I recommend the segments on the 1969 South Carolina nurses’ strike.

The problem, though, is that last word. The juxtaposition of gentle church instruction and a vicious profanity causes us to laugh. It’s strange and unexpected. But, somewhere, I know Mr. Colbert can do better. Lots of comics rely on profanity to get a reaction, beginning about as soon as a kid understands why certain words are uncommon. Like sesquipedalian. That’s incongruous and funny, right? Ultimately, though, we move towards better ideas of irony and atypical situations and strange events, and only the mediocre comedians rely on shock. Because he’s not mediocre, I get frustrated when Stephen drops to that level.

That’s true about his show, and that’s true of his book, I Am America (and so can you!) Lots of parts are quite funny, like how all the figures are of him, and the fake Ordinary People, and the pre-annotated pages. That’s great. So why do he and his writers have to resort to vulgarity? They’re better than that. Without the f-bombs and bad innuendo, this book would be highly recommended. As it is, it drops to a 2 out of 5.

Bellarmine has an Easter Break, which allows me a little time to post reviews of books I’ve read this winter. The first is What Paul Meant, by Garry Wills. Dr. Wills doesn’t appear to have a Web page, because he’s of an older generation. This is part of his series that look at the early Church from a different perspective, which also includes perspectives on Jesus and the Gospels. This book is average on my scale, and receives a 2 out of 5. This book, and many books, would benefit by better use of white space, chapter sub-headings, and such. The other person I knew who read this book agreed. In parts, it’s too easy to get lost. The points look all the same, and just go on and on and on. Isn’t that weird for me to say? I’ve been changed by the visual generation, too.

In those long plain chapters, there are plenty of interesting things. Dr. Wills properly points out that we see Paul through the lens of 20 centuries of Church history. Paul’s viewpoint of the early Church had different context, and the words we use are not correct. In our context, there are better translations. With no fixed, written Gospel, Revelation is a better, less loaded term. Similarly, for ekklesia, “Church” brings to mind pews and big buildings, thus “Gathering” runs closer to what really happened. Reading this book forced me to consider what Paul was thinking when he wrote his notes, and what the early communities were thinking, and that Luke in Acts did not have the same first-person perspective. Historical perspective is good for a historical-psychological theologian.

Nevertheless, this book fails, and it fails because the author is still not fully detached from modern perspective. Many conservatives have this idea of “Founders’ Intent”, whether in the first-century Church or the first-decade US Constitution. I’ve long felt that determining true intent from short documents like letters or declarations is impossible; there just isn’t enough context. Invariably, one’s reading of intent is contaminated by one’s own perspective. For instance, a Justice that invokes “originalism” usually winds up serving modern interests, like those of corporations which did not exist during the “original” period. It’s amazing how often “originalism” looks new, and fails to see the multiple opinions that formed compromises for a document. It’s biased unbiasness.

Dr. Wills does that here. His anger at the Institutional Catholic Church, documented in earlier books like Papal Sin and Why I am a Catholic, comes forward here. The hierarchy in Jerusalem (as in today’s Vatican City) is almost never right. The key quote, from the end, I read as “Religion took over the legacy of Paul as it did that of Jesus - because they both opposed it.” Well then, why was Paul trying to assist the leaders of city communities? Why organize? Why standardize? The writer has his own biased unbiasness. That’s not an evil thing; it’s very difficult to remove personal feelings. I can’t all the time. Plus, exposing other biases is a great help. Nevertheless, what makes this book only average, besides the droning, is the reality of unclear founders’ intent.

About a month ago, political analyst Chuck Todd spoke on MSNBC. To paraphrase, he noted that “you go into the homes of Central Valley (CA) Latinos and you’ll see two portraits on the wall: one of the Pope and the other of JFK.”

I saw a portrait of JFK, in a Hispanic house, though I don’t remember seeing any photos of the Pope. There were Matchbooks in that house, too. It’s been a long while.