Mere Conservatism: History
by: R.J. Moeller
“I am not urging a lop-sided idolatry of the past; I am protesting against a lop-sided idolatry of the present!” -G.K. Chesterton
“The study of history is a powerful antidote to contemporary arrogance. It is humbling to discover how many of our glib assumptions, which seem to us novel and plausible, have been tested before, not once but many times and in innumerable guises; and discovered to be, at great human cost, wholly false.” --Paul Johnson
In the introductory essay to "Mere Conservatism" a few weeks back I referenced the famed British author C.S. Lewis and his devastatingly effective explanations of the core tenets of the Christian creed. In the first chapter of Book Four in Mere Christianity, titled “Beyond Personality: Or First Steps In The Doctrine Of The Trinity”, Lewis affirms his confidence in the intellectual curiosity and capacity of his reader by letting us know that despite warnings to the contrary from editors and colleagues, he is going to talk about heady, existential ideas regarding a complex topic. In his case, he meant talking about some of the theological basics of the Christian faith.
Today I am going to be talking about History and the importance of integrating the wisdom of the ages in both our private lives and the public square.
In that same chapter of Mere Christianity Lewis astutely identifies the skepticism (and apprehension) most people have toward any attempt to codify or verbalize big ideas and concepts. Many look at, for example, Christianity and see "a bunch of rules and regulations" written well before iPhones and Toyota hybrids that seem to have few practical implications on their modern life. Similarly, in the case of studying our past, our History, many are either bored or insulted by the notion that, for example, what men in powdered wigs said and wrote 200 years ago about government, economics, culture, and the law has any real relevance to our day and age.
Mr. Lewis references a comment that a Royal Air Force (R.A.F.) fighter pilot made to him after hearing one of C.S.’s lectures on the existence of God and the importance of studying theology and doctrine. The candid officer told Lewis that while he certainly believed in the existence of a Higher Power, and had “experienced God” while flying in the cockpit of his plane at night in the desert where he had been stationed, he simply could not bring himself to adhere to a list of “dogmas and formulas” that supposedly described who that Higher Power was and what His prescriptions for living as happy, fulfilling a life as is possible were.
Lewis was in total agreement with the general premise of this soldier’s statement. The real thing, in this instance a real encounter with God, will always be more intense and real than reading about it later.
Now think of this in terms of History. The things we experience every day, the emotions we feel, the gut-wrenching pain and suffering we see, the unexplainable compassion and kindness we witness, all seem to matter so much more than anything that happened last month, let alone in Napoleon’s France, Hitler’s Germany, or even Ahmadinejad’s Iran.
And to a large extent, this is true. We have our immediate needs and responsibilities to look after, and our day-to-day experiences deserve the bulk of our attention and emotions. But there is a bigger picture to consider.
C.S. Lewis points out that the pilot’s first problem was that he held a wrong understanding of what theology even really is. The man was thinking of purely scholastic and theoretical study. Yes, looking at the ocean and then at a map is a different experience, but who would say that because they’ve seen the ocean a couple times they would now need no map to navigate its murky and tumultuous waters if they wanted to travel upon them?
“The map is admittedly only colored paper, but there are two things you have to remember about it. In the first place, it is based on what hundreds and thousands of people have found out by sailing the real ocean. In that way it has behind it masses of experience just as real as the one you could have from the beach; only, while yours would be a single glimpse, the map fits all those different experiences together. In the second place, if you want to go anywhere, the map is absolutely necessary.”
History is a map.
Living history, making history with every breath you take (and, as my boy Sting would remind you, “move you make”), is abundantly more “real” and exhilarating. No one disagrees with this. History, because it is the story of mankind as re-told and recorded by mankind, is similar to the children’s game Telephone: it is susceptible to misrepresentations and misinterpretations. This is another unavoidable reality.
But think of the people you know who only live moment-by-moment with no thought or care of the future, and no interest in learning from past mistakes (or even successes). Are they really all that enviable? Is it really possible to live this way and maintain a job, friendships, or family? I would propose that it is not possible, at least not for long. It would rightly be understood as childish, immature and irresponsible to live in such a manner.
Now think of the times in life where you’ve relied upon past experiences, or the past experiences of others, to make a decision and it turned out to be the wrong one. Would any sane person gather from that incident that they should never again trust their own past, or the past of others, to help guide them in making a future decision? Everyone has had a bad meal before, but no one decides that as a result of your aunt’s questionable meatloaf you won’t be eating any food again.
History matters because it involves the creators of it: us. There are names and dates and places to learn, but learning History should be seen as the pre-requisite to the prized end-goal: understanding History. Wisdom comes from a healthy comprehension and appreciation of facts and realities that have occurred in the past. There is no area of study, no academic discipline, no political or ideological movement that is not completely reliant upon information collected from the past.
So why then is there generally such a divergent view between conservatives and liberals as to what role History ought to play in making personal and collective decisions? Why is it that no matter if we are talking about History in a theological, political, or economic sense, liberals tend to downplay the credence we should pay to the wisdom of the ages, and conservatives usually call for an embrace of it? Why is one side so enamored with sweeping “change” and perpetual “progress” and the other so much more focused on maintaining and modifying what has been proven to work?
I believe the ideological divide comes down to one word: authority.
The strand of progressive-liberalism produced by the cultural revolution of the 1960’s and 70’s that typifies the thinking and values of our media, academia, and current president recognizes, I believe, no real authority save itself (and themselves).
The Constitution does not allow for the type of all-encompassing change the Left’s good intentions compel them to push for, so the “living, breathing document” myth and a rabidly activist judiciary are foisted upon a misinformed and/or disinterested America. The Bible does not condone the bulk of the Left’s secular-progressive social values, so it is either rejected outright, marginalized, or annexed into the government’s control (see: Europe). History confirms the Left’s penchant for centralized power and a government-run economy to be (at best) a fool’s errand, so the History of the Christian West, especially the History of the United States, is re-cast as a harrowing tale of how benevolent, science-minded collectivists founded and developed the freest, most prosperous civilization in human history despite the racists, sexists, homophobic, bible-thumping xenophobes who believed in things like free markets, personal liberty, personal responsibility, and a Creator whose authority supersedes the whims of a corruptible, power-craved State.
The reason I put Theology first in the “Theology-History-Economics” triumvirate that most clearly defines Mere Conservatism is because I believe that when first things are first, everything else will fall in place. As soon as the Theology I outlined last week is in place, as soon as you acknowledge a Creator (who bestows purpose and grants rights) and the reality of mankind’s fallen state (e.g. sin), History’s relevance and importance becomes self-evident.
History is important because our Creator thought it worth the time to create and put us in it. History is relevant because it is the collection of all that the things that have worked and failed as long as we’ve been on the earth.
History is an imperfect source, but matters a great deal because there is a great deal more of it than anything else. How does one study the present? The future? We go to our grandpa or grandma for wisdom not because they know how to Tweet, but, in large part, because they’ve been around since before the inventor of Twitter was born.
The Left confuses the need for a “trust but verify” attitude towards the authority of History with a regrettable disdain for, and flat out rejection of, it. Shortsighted axioms such as “Don’t trust anyone over 30” were ingrained into American culture and society when they should have been saying to one another, “Don’t listen to anyone who isn’t intimately familiar with what happened in their own country beginning 30 years ago and working backward to its founding.”
Or how about, “Don’t trust anyone who hasn’t read a book published at least 30 years ago”?
I realize that for some, this talk of History and authority will either blow over their head, or anger them. To those liberals offended, I mean no personal
disrespect. Conservatives are not perfect; we simply ascribe to better ideas and truer values. And to those who see little point in this whole discussion, I apologize for not mentioning my thoughts on who you should start in Fantasy Football, Kanye West, or even just one of People’s “50 Sexiest People Alive” in this essay.
For the rest of you, to those interested in accepting the call to confront the socio-political challenges of our time, please understand that the writer of Ecclesiastes was right when he said, “There is nothing new under the sun.”
Anything and everything we don’t like about what is happening to our country and culture, and in our churches and synagogues, is a direct result not of unforeseen occurrences or unpredictable challenges but unpreparedness and a pervasive inability to reinforce those same weak links in our spiritual, intellectual and moral armor that consistently allow us to be struck where the most damage can be inflicted.
Not knowing, and more importantly, not understanding, our past is helping to cripple America. Mere Conservatism seeks to help change that.
“In other words, [History] is practical: especially now. In the old days, when there was less education and discussion, perhaps it was possible to get on with a very few simple ideas about [History]. But it is not so now. Everyone reads, everyone hears things discussed. Consequently, if you do not [spend time investigating History], that will not mean that you have no ideas about [History]. It will mean that you have a lot of wrong ones – bad, muddled, out-of-date ideas.
For a great many of the ideas about [History] which are trotted out as novelties today are simply the ones which real [Historians, Theologians, and Economists] tried centuries ago and rejected. To believe in the popular view of [History] in modern [America] is retrogression – like believing the earth is flat.”
Mere Conservatism: Theology
by: R.J. Moeller
(Note: If you haven't read the Mere Conservatism Intro yet, take a minute and familiarize yourself with what we're trying to accomplish with this series of essays.)
Theology, history, and economics are the three prisms through which my conservative view of the world can be most clearly seen and understood. Obviously these are three broad categories to draw upon, but stick around for each of the next three weeks as I will be narrowing down what it is I mean by each of these loaded terms.
I completely appreciate that for many Americans the word “theology” is perhaps scary, confusing, misunderstood, or meaningless. It’s okay to admit that, even if you consider yourself a spiritual person.
Theology is simply the study, or understanding, of God.
Every person has a theology, even atheists. They make the bold claim that there is certainly no God. Keep in mind that we are leagues away in this intellectual journey from making declarations as to which God is the true Higher Power. I’m merely attempting to help define theology, and then explain the type of theology that I believe usually leads to a conservative outlook on life. If you consider yourself liberal (or anything else) and find that you agree with my sentiments today, then perhaps we aren't as far apart as our partisan prejudices would have us believe.
The presupposition of my definition for theology is that one has already actually thought about God, about a Higher Power. Looking back on our lives, it is nearly impossible to separate the question of God from our own experiences of asking the “Why am I here?” and “What is my purpose?” questions that rightly plague us all. You can brush these questions off for much or all of your life, but the intellectually honest person is confronted with them and eventually says, “Results be damned: I’m getting to the bottom of life’s meaning and God’s existence.”
On a side note: If you have never reached this point of candid self-reflection in your life, I do not intend to debate the existence of God here and now, but we cannot avoid Him in a discussion of America, let alone American conservatism.
As we continue our discussion about theology, add on to the layers of existential soul-searching I just mentioned the practical, daily implications of those eternal questions. For example, issues such as abortion, murder, capital punishment, and war carry with them critically important moral conundrums that no responsible citizen should ignore. Underlying all of this, in the context of a free society like our own, is the question of “rights.”
Here is where I believe the theology of an American matters. Don’t confuse theology with “religion.” You belong to a religion, but you believe in a particular theology.
The question before us, as fellow citizens of a republic, is the genesis of our rights.
Where do they come from? Does everyone have them? Can they be taken away? Should they ever be taken away? What can and/or should be done if they are taken away?
Thomas Jefferson, the author of the Declaration of Independence, believed in a Higher Power, but in one who created the world, wound it up like a watch, and then walked away to let things play out as they will. Jefferson believed that like a watch there were certain truths, what one might call Natural Laws, which governed the universe. He was what is known as a “deist.”
He was also a lawyer and a rationally thinking man.
The core of his reasoned defense for America’s right to be free from British tyranny was this: “All men are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights.” This is, in my opinion, the single most distinctive thing about America. The Jewish people of the Old Testament were the first to claim that mankind was made in God’s image. Jefferson, a deist no less, and our remarkable Founding Fathers took the logical next step and said “If God created us, then our rights come from Him, not a king.”
These "truths" were considered to be "self-evident"...as in, "You have to go out of your way to ignore or deny them."
How does one explain where rights come from without a Higher Power? How does one explain the history of this blessed nation without coming in to contact with a Higher Power?
If it is not God, then our rights are in my opinion arbitrary and illusionary. If our rights do not come from someone or something higher than ourselves, namely a Creator, then we are entirely dependent on the whims of the State.
You don’t have to worship on Sunday morning at Sarah Palin’s church or profess belief in a Six-Day Creation to acknowledge the importance of this point. You don’t have to (and shouldn’t) be the type of person who calls America the “Second Israel” to appreciate the uniqueness of this country’s fundamental claims about life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
The irrefutable genius of our Founders was this: led by their undeniable Judeo-Christian theological influences and values, they conceived a way to ground our national system in theology without forcing people to be religious. You can believe whatever it is you want about God, Jesus, Buddha or the Hale-Bopp Comet. Just remember that this freedom comes from the worldview of our Founders that recognized that our Creator affords each of us a similar freedom while on this earth to accept or reject Him. The system He set up isn’t dependent upon our liking it, but merely accepting it.
The Founding Fathers were saying. “Go ahead and pray (or not pray) to God in any way you see fit – but we believe in a Higher Power and the only possible chance for sustained freedom and liberty we can see is a nation where everyone, especially those who are lent power to lead, is held to a higher standard.”
And from this a second, and for now, final, theological conclusion can be drawn: mankind is messed up. We are “fallen,” the God-fearing man or woman might say. This should be the most obvious theological point in the world. No one disputes that the world has problems. Our neighbors have problems. We have problems. Things aren’t as they should be a lot of the time.
As G.K. Chesterton (pictured right) phrased it in Orthodoxy, "Certain new theologians dispute original sin, which is the only part of Judeo-Christian theology which can really be proved."
Many secular-progressives excitedly say that while the Declaration of Independence may contain some “quasi-religious rhetoric,” that the real test is the Constitution and its alleged lack of “God language.” Argument won, right?
Well, first of all, there shouldn’t be any argument about the historical fact that the men who put together the framework for our republican democracy, who wrote the Bill of Rights, who signed the Declaration, who led the colonial troops in to battle were predominantly and overwhelmingly religious, theological dudes. This is simply the historical narrative of the country we all happen to live in.
No one wants a theocracy, but to write the Judeo-Christian heritage out of our nation’s history is preposterous and should not be taken seriously. For better or worse, this is who we are.
But more importantly, I contend that the Constitution is implicit in its theology. The very first thing our Framers wrote down was the concept of freedom of religion. Want to take a guess what (or Who) was on their minds when they wrote that? Certainly they were wanting to protect against a State-run church, the kind they had (have) back in Europe, but the reality of a Creator loomed in the words and on the pages of nearly everything these visionary men spoke and wrote.
Was anyone expecting James Madison and the boys, to prove how much they believe in a Higher Power, would have to have thrown in an “Oh by the way, God rules and someday secular atheists like Chrisopher Hitchens will drool,” shout-out in the first ten amendments? If they had included a specific “Jesus is my Homeboy clause” in the Bill of Rights it would have flown in the face of the liberty-based sentiments from the Declaration that was their case to the world as to why they deserved to be free.
Just because haters on the secular Left and zealots on the religious right don’t seem to comprehend these subtle, yet profound, truths about the Founders intentions doesn’t mean we all miss them.
The Constitution is also inherently theological regarding my second point from before: the fallen state of mankind. The separation of powers would not be necessary in a world where enough hope, change, progress, and blaming Fox News for its “bias” could solve all social, political and moral ills. Of course we need protection from those who inevitably do wrong, and consequently we must have debates and votes regarding how much of our liberties we are willing to exchange for security.
Compromise is a reality of life. But so are sin and crime and murder and ponzi schemes and everything in between realities of life. The Founders believed things could be better, but never perfect.
They also believed that a significant contributor to ensuring things would be perennially worse was the centralization of power in the hands of a few “elites” who promised the rest of the population that they knew what was best.
From these two fundamental theological concepts - the existence of a Creator who grants us our rights and the natural depravity of man - a coherent, cohesive, and typically conservative worldview begins to form.
If you came to my church on Sunday or asked me over coffee to explain my religious faith in Jesus Christ, I’d be more than happy to share my life and my doctrinal beliefs regarding the God of the Old and New Testament. I could draw upon deeper biblical insights to explain why I believe Scripture and Christian teaching and tradition point people to a conservative worldview.
But in the public square, in the marketplace of ideas, in a free society that should welcome all points of view, and in an essay attempting to define the basic theological ideas pertinent to a conservative outlook on life, I only need the two I’ve already stated.
This is just the first stop on our intellectual journey, but it is a big one.
Contrary to the caricature perpetrated, it’s not only “greedy” conservatives and Republicans who are interested in how goods, services, and taxes are saved, spent, regulated and collected. In fact, the exact opposite is true: modern American liberals and progressives fervently believe that economic issues are the most important factors to consider in nearly every single political, cultural, and moral decision a country makes.
3. Division of Labor- In the past, a farmer and his family would have to produce for themselves nearly everything they needed to survive. Other than the occasional 4-mile horseback ride to borrow a cup of sugar from the neighboring farm to make those Johnny Cakes your brother Zebedee loved so very much, families relied on what they could make or grow, and the lack of technology, transportation, and communication prevented Americans from effectively maximizing their time, resources and talents.



