Showing posts with label Unproductive Questions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Unproductive Questions. Show all posts

Friday, May 25, 2012

Cultural Protestantism

Behold, the President of Estonia expresses a certain sort of frustration increasingly common in the more fiscally responsible climes of Europe:
The bankrolling of Southern Europe has already and ever-increasingly threatened the fiscally responsible countries, the ones who have shown solidarity and voted to commit to bailing out those better off than we. Moreover, while much has been made of the change of governments in countries that broke the rules, far too little attention has been paid to what to my mind is a far more significant reverberation: the fall of a responsible, poor, new member state government coalition (in Slovakia) that made the hard choice and voted to support a country richer than it is, all for the sake of European solidarity.

That I submit is a problem, a serious problem and a threat to Europe we have only begun to realize. When we still talk about new and old members, we still talk nonsense about “populism” in all the wrong ways. Indeed I believe that the “populism” and the “specter of the 30s” that all kinds of pundits unknowledgeably appeal to has nothing to do with the populism we see in Northern Europe. That is not a populism of the dispossessed, the unemployed. It is a populism more akin to what Calvin and Luther appealed to than what the fascists of the 1930s appealed to. It is, like most populism, based on resentment, and resentment at unfairness. But the unfairness is, as it was in the 16th Century, a resentment of those who flaunt their flouting the rules by which others abide. Resentment on the part of those who take commitments seriously regarding those who do not: Is that the “specter of the 30s”?

I cannot and will not accept any labels applied to Northern Europeans for being “populists” when they have been doing exactly what has been asked of them. The price of following the rules for a “poor” country like Estonia has been harsh.

(Incidentally, the man is to be applauded for his essay's title, "I'll Gladly Pay You Tuesday", which suggests that American culture — Popeye, as it so happens — was far more pervasive in Estonia than I ever imagined.)

It is worth noting that all of the EU's worst offenders, fiscally speaking, are historically Roman Catholic or Orthodox, and nearly all of its most responsible nations have historically had a Protestant majority. (One is obliged to speak in terms of history when discussing European religion, for there ain't much of it left, of course.) Is this merely a coïncidence? Or is it, perhaps, indicative of a larger pattern? Inasmuch as one can speak of "Protestant virtues" or "Roman Catholic virtues" (or "Greek Orthodox virtues"), I submit that they are indeed different. Protestantism encourages industry, thrift, personal conscience; Protestant societies, if one can speak of such a thing, are more egalitarian. Roman Catholicism... well, what are Roman Catholic virtues? For all my of my two years in the heart of American Papistry, I still cannot claim to understand well the Roman Catholic psyche. (Perhaps you'd be foolhardy enough to hazard a guess, Aaron?) In any case, one does not associate the virtues of Protestant societies with Roman Catholic nations. Observe, even, the great differences between those nations colonized by Protestants and the nations colonized by Roman Catholics.

It would be, perhaps, altogether too neat and tidy to say that nature's Protestants (to crib Hilary Mantel's phrase) are predisposed towards fiscal responsibility and better governance, but one certainly can't rule out the idea.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Crazy Religion and Sane Friendship

There are two kinds of sincerely religious people: the crazy ones and the sane ones. We've all observed the former (Fred Phelps & co., Mormons, and now, those people who sold all their possessions for the rapture that's been postponed); the latter are, depending upon whom you ask, perhaps only a theoretical possibility. (If pressed, I'd say I've probably met a few. But they draw far less attention to themselves than the crazy sort do.)

What is one to make of the sincerely deluded? Well, the first thing to emphasize is that they're usually not bad people (with the probable exception of that horrible Phelps clan): they are merely carrying a (nonsensical) belief to its logical conclusion. If I truly believed God was planning to save only 144,000 special folks, why wouldn't I knock on your door to let you know about it (and, if you were out, leave some pamphlets)? The fact that it's an objectively asinine thing to do should not concern me, should it? Your salvation is at stake!

Several years ago I passed a church sign that read, "Friends don't let friends go to Hell". (Yes, it was one of those churches. On a later occasion, the sign read "Pray first, then vote". They must not've had enough letters to spell "Republican".) In all ages of the world this sentiment has been true; all ages, that is, except our present one. Only now is it widely considered a virtue to tolerate heterodoxy among one's friends. (This is assuming, of course, that one believes in an ortho-doxy to begin with.) Is this a positive development? I daresay in many ways it is. I certainly have no desire to befriend the sort of Christian — generally one of the more foaming-at-the-mouth sorts of Protestants — who would endeavor to convert me to whatever obscure non-creedal sect he belonged to.

And yet at the same time this development probably says something about our friendships. It's worth noting that the medievals had a stronger sense of friendship than we do today. The Cistercian Aelred of Rievaulx (1110-1167) considered friendship a gift from God, a point upon which even the most deracinated Episcopalian or Unitarian can probably agree. But Aelred goes further: in true friendship, as in marriage, Christ himself is present as a third person. (I would give you a full quotation, but my library, which includes Aelred's Spiritual Friendship, has gone before me into Iowa.) Is this possible in friendships between two people of different beliefs? That is to say, if friendship is such a deep spiritual connection, to what extent are friendships between people of differing beliefs the real thing? I'm not prepared to answer this question. If Aelred is right, though, I should probably be prepared to admit that I've never truly experienced "spiritual friendship", for so many of my dearest friends indeed do not share my deepest beliefs. For some reason, though, I feel no need to start proselytizing.