Walker Percy, Bourbon, and the Holy Ghost | First Things

Ruminations on the spiritual power of bourbon, from Walker Percy, nonetheless: Walker Percy, Bourbon, and the Holy Ghost | First Things.

To return to more earthly spirits, bourbon is for Percy a way to be for a moment in the evening. Why might one take an evening cocktail? Baser reasons are: an addiction to alcohol, or the desire to appear sophisticated. Better reasons, according to Percy, are the aesthetic experience of the drink itself—the appearance, the aroma, the taste, the cheering effect of (moderate) ethanol on the brain. Another reason is that a drink incarnates the evening; it marks the shift from the active workday to a reflective time at home. One simply must choose a way to be at a five o’clock on a Wednesday evening. Instead surrendering to TV, Percy recommended making a proper southern julep. I prefer my bourbon as an old-fashioned, a drink that reflects the colors of an autumn day. “Love God and do what you will,” Saint Augustine advised. This presumes that you have allowed God’s grace to order you to love properly, and you have taken proper note of your own God-given gifts and dispositions. Then, praise God, and be.

Walker’s original essay can be read here.

 

Remembering 9-11

The media are full of 9-11 commemorations. Linda Holmes mentions many of them, and watches part of one, 9-11: The Days After. Her response:

What I personally felt was a rolling back of a ten-year process in which my memories became less raw and my sadness became more manageable than it was when I stood on the lawn of the state capitol watching a co-worker pal of mine eulogize his brother at my state’s official memorial service. Mind you, my experience of this was strictly from far away, living as I did in the Midwest at the time. I was marked so much less than almost anyone else, and yet feeling that healing effectively un-happening was profoundly unnerving, and I found myself wondering why I was doing it.

Susan Jacoby attacks the “sacralized myth of 9-11” with power:

This Sunday, Sept. 11, 2011, will undoubtedly mark the apotheosis of the long sacralization of the terrorist attacks that brought down the towers of the World Trade Center and killed more than 3000 in New York, Washington and Shanksville, PA. By sacralization, I do not mean the phantasms of those who see a crucifix in a surviving piece of metal among the ruins but an ongoing attempt, usually in religious but also in secular rhetoric, to elevate this event from one more chapter in the history of human evil to “the day that changed everything.”

This mass murder did not change everything; it changed only some things. And what it did change, it generally changed for the worse.

Some religious reflections:

The Myth of Closure

An interview with Nancy Berns, author of Closure: The Rush to End Grief and What It Costs Us. Berns argues that closure “simply doesn’t exist. While grief can diminish over time, there is no clear process that brings it to an end – and no reason that achieving this finality should be our goal.

People are told they need closure whether we’re talking about bad relationships or terrorist attacks, so it’s a wide variety of issues. We also see closure become an essential part of sales talks, whether it’s in funeral, grief, or relationship advice industries, as well as a political argument for issues ranging from the death penalty to memorials … .Closure really has saturated our popular culture … because it’s an effective way to sell ideas and to sell politics and products. As a result, people have come to believe that they do need closure.

 

More links on Islam and Islamophobia

The cousin of the Ft. Hood shooter has started an anti-terrorism foundation.

Andrew Sullivan points to this chart from a Brookings Institution study of American values after 9-11:

What it means: If a Christian (say Anders Breivik) commits an act of terrorism, only 13% of Christian Americans identify him as Christian. If a Muslim commits an act of terrorism, 44% of Muslims identify him or her as Muslim. In other words, Americans operate with a double-standard, refusing to accept that Christians can do despicable things (“they’re not really Christian”). But of course our faith proclaims that we are all sinners in need of forgiveness.

Patheos identifies the top ten (+1) Islamophobes.

On the other hand, Eric Trager reports on the high percentage of Arabs who don’t believe Al-Qaeda or Arabs perpetrated the 9-11 attacks.

How dead is dead?

Interesting study explores attitudes toward death. It seems that to many people, somebody in a persistent vegetative state is seen to be “deader” than someone buried in a coffin. This is especially true for religious people. The authors of the study postulate that belief in the afterlife is a cause of that discrepancy.

David Berreby comments. He wonders about the implications of such perceptions:

Still, most of us in industrialized societies don’t see death or severe brain damage up close. Hence, a tendency to see mental incapacity as somehow more dead than death could have practical and political consequences—especially in an ever-grayer societies in which instances of dementia are expected to double in the next 20 years.

Atheism–more links

A brilliant essay by James Wood on atheism and belief.

Just as evangelical Christianity is characterised by scriptural literalism and an uncomplicated belief in a “personal God”, so the New Atheism often seems engaged only in doing battle with scriptural literalism; but the only way to combat such literalism is with rival literalism. The God of the New Atheism and the God of religious fundamentalism turn out to be remarkably similar entities. This God, the God worth fighting against, is the God we grew up with as children (and soon grew out of, or stopped believing in): this God created the world, controls our destinies, sits up somewhere in heaven, loves us, sometimes punishes us, and is ready to intervene to perform miracles. He promises goodies in heaven for the devout, and horrors for the damned. Since militant atheism interprets religious faith, again on the evangelical or Islamist model, as blind – a blind leap of faith that hurls the believer into an infinite idiocy – so no understanding or even interest can be extended to why or how people believe the religious narratives they follow, and how often those narratives are invaded by doubt, reversal, interruption and banality.

That should come as no surprise to anyone who has watched or read “Hitchkins.” But I think Wood is also on to something when he says:

Part of the weakness of current theological warfare is that it is premised on stable, lifelong belief – each side congealed into its rival (but weirdly symmetrical) creeds. Likewise, in contemporary politics, the worst crime you can apparently commit is to change your mind. Yet people’s beliefs are often not stable, and are fluctuating. We are all flip-floppers.

Atheist Adam Lee ponders why the numbers of non-believers is rising and postulates:

What all this means is that the rise of atheism as a political force is an effect, rather than a cause, of the churches’ hard right turn towards fundamentalism. I admit that this conclusion is a little damaging to my ego. I’d love to say that we atheists did it all ourselves; I’d love to be able to say that our dazzling wit and slashing rhetorical attacks are persuading people to abandon organized religion in droves. But the truth is that the churches’ wounds are largely self-inflicted. By obstinately clinging to prejudices that the rest of society is moving beyond, they’re in the process of making themselves irrelevant.

After an appearance on a Fox News program, Blair Scott, of American Atheists, Inc., was subjected to more than 8,000 death threats.

James F. McGrath asked, “Are Atheists just like liberal religious believers?” He points out that:

When atheists point out errors, historical issues and stories that defy belief or moral acceptance in the Bible, for the most part that information (when it is accurate) derives from the scholarship pioneered and for the most part carried out by liberal religious believers. Liberal Christians have been denouncing much of popular piety as superstition long before atheists, advocating pioneering, expanding and embracing scientific understanding even when this infringed on what was traditionally considered God’s turf.

McGrath would do well to ponder Wood’s analysis in the essay pointed to above.

Two articles on grief and mourning

From Slate, a report on a survey about “what grief is really like.” In this report, a discussion of what grievers wanted from friends and acquaintances:

Asked what would have helped them with their grief, the survey-takers talked again and again about acknowledgement of their grief. They wanted recognition of their loss and its uniqueness; they wanted help with practical matters; they wanted active emotional support. What they didn’t want was to be offered false comfort in the form of empty platitudes. Acknowledgement, love, a receptive ear, help with the cooking, company—these were the basic supports that mourning rituals once provided; even if we’ve never experienced a loss ourselves, we know from literature and history that people require them. Yet as American culture has become divorced from death and dying, we no longer know how to address the most rudimentary aspects of another’s loss—what to say, when to say it, how to say it. Disconcerted by discomfort, friends or colleagues are all too likely to disappear or turn the conversation to small talk in the aftermath of a loss, not knowing what to say. Our survey-takers reported wanting to grieve communally and yearning to find ways to relate to those around them.

Among other things, the article stressed the meaninglessness of platitudes and the importance of rituals.

An earlier article on the theme.

From Salon, Sheila Trask writes about the lengthy grieving process after three deaths in her family.