Month: January 2009

Posted on

Thoughts on Why Human Sexuality is Sacred

By Jim Spiegel

Contemporary debates about human sexuality and reproduction—abortion, in vitro fertilization, birth control, gay rights, etc.—tend to be highly charged with emotion.  While it is often easy to carry on a dispassionate debate about even such life or death issues as war and capital punishment, issues in sexual ethics are much more challenging in this regard.  It is apparent why this is so when one considers the stakes.  For permissivists on such issues (e.g., pro-choicers, gay marriage advocates, etc.) personal autonomy and, by extension, a whole way of life, is at stake.  And for conservatives the sanctity of life and family itself (as traditionally understood) is at stake.  And for folks on both sides of these debates a sense of what is ultimately good for society as a whole hangs in the balance.

But for Christian moral conservatives there is a further dimension to these issues which makes them especially urgent and emotionally charged—the notion that human sexuality is sacred.  So what is it about sex such that it should be considered “sacred” or somehow religiously significant?  From the standpoint of Christian theology, of course, part of the answer lies in the fact that God ordained sex and blessed it as a means of procreation, marital unity, and pleasure. 

But could there be something even more significant about sex which traces back to the nature of God?  One possibility is that sex and procreation actually reflect the Trinity.  Sex is an intimate communion between two persons (man and woman) from whom proceed a third person (child), and all three of these persons share the same (human) nature.  This mirrors the divine nature, which consists of an intimate communion between two persons (God the Father and God the Son), from whom proceed a third person (the Holy Spirit), and all three of these persons share the same (divine) nature.

Now this analogy might appear to break down in the fact that God the Son also proceeds from God the Father, which is not mirrored in a human marital relationship.  However, this procession is reflected in the Genesis creation account where the woman proceeds from the man, via the “rib” of Adam.  Anyway, though human sexuality and procreation are imperfect images of the Trinity (one must be careful not to go too far with such images), they are profound analogues of the divine nature all the same.  And this is one more reason why we should regard sex as sacred, from a Christian perspective.  And it helps to explain why behavioral distortions of our sexual teleology are regarded by Scripture as especially heinous and harmful.  See, for example, such passages as Prov. 6:32-33, Rom. 1:26-27, 1 Cor. 6:9.  The severity of judgment in these passages is more understandable if such acts constitute attacks on the Godhead.

Posted on

On a Certain Irony in the Case for Gay Rights

By Jim Spiegel

When it comes to the debate on human sexuality, typically it is traditionalists who are painted as enemies of freedom.  After all, they are the ones who insist that extra-marital sex is wrong and should be discouraged.  However, the central argument used by many gay rights advocates also opposes freedom but in a much more fundamental sense than traditionalism. 

Let me explain.  Consider the popular gay rights slogan “biology is destiny” and the argument which often accompanies this phrase.  The idea is that some people are “born” homosexuals, due either to certain genetic factors or neurological hard-wiring which strongly predispose them to have a sexual attraction to members of the same sex.  For this reason, the argument goes, the traditionalist view that homosexual relations are immoral is wrongheaded, not to mention insensitive.  For how can people be blamed for what they cannot control?  As Immanuel Kant said (paraphrasing Pelagius a millennium before him), “ought implies can.”  If homosexuals cannot choose to be other than what they are, then there is no sense in telling them they ought to act otherwise.

Notice that the “biology is destiny” argument really amounts to the claim that homosexuals cannot help themselves regarding both their sexual preference and their choice as to whether to have sex at all.  The implication (or at least suggestion) in both cases is that their desires are irresistible.  That is, given their biological (and psychological) make-up, they cannot act otherwise than they do.  Now there is a general name for views such as this:  determinism.  Determinists believe that all phenomena, including human behavior and choices, are caused.  Among determinists there is disagreement as to whether we are, nonetheless, free and responsible for our behavior.  Those determinists who affirm the logical compatibility of determinism and freedom are called compatibilists (or, alternatively, soft determinists).  In contrast, those who maintain that determinism rules out human freedom and responsibility are called hard determinists.

So here’s the point.  In using the “biology is destiny” argument, gay rights advocates tacitly endorse hard determinism, at least as far as human sexuality goes.  That is, they deny that human beings are free when it comes to their sexual choices and behavior.  More than this, they deny we are morally responsible in these matters.  Ironically, then, proponents of the biological argument are enemies of human freedom and in a much more profound sense than their traditionalist opponents.  They deny freedom both morally (in the sense of responsibility) and metaphysically (in the sense of the ability to choose). 

Of course, not all gay rights advocates believe, strictly speaking, that “biology is destiny,” that there is a “gay gene” or some other entirely biological determinant of homosexual orientation.  But even the skeptical gay rights folks almost always accept some sort of determinism in the matter, whether it is psychological, social, or some combination of factors including biology.  How ironic it is that traditionalists are routinely criticized for being anti-freedom when it is gay rights advocates who implicitly deny freedom in a much more radical way.

Posted on

Shifting Legos and the Sands of Time

By Amy Spiegel

I must confess that when I woke up on January 20 to the usual sounds of shifting legos and pounding feet (Don’t let them fool you, there is no such thing as the pitter-pattering of little feet unless you own a cat.) I wasn’t thinking about history being made. I was running through the subjects the boys and I needed to get through before lunch and whether or not we should go to Fazoli’s for $1.00 kids’ meals after Maggie’s gymnastics lesson. When Jim reminded me that it was Inauguration Day, I did a head slap and then went back to thinking about the previously stated subjects. Then Jim dropped the bomb that he wanted me to be sure that the kids witnessed the swearing in of Barack Obama as our forty-fourth president. Ugh.

It isn’t that I wanted to deny my kids the privilege of witnessing history. It’s wasn’t even that I resent the fact that Obama won the election, at least not entirely. It’s that witnessing history is often inconvenient and time-consuming. After all, I had lesson plans to complete and leotards to wash. Still, I begrudgingly agreed to plant the kids in front of the computer at snack time and even offered a cookie to anyone who would sit still and watch. Unfortunately for us, the event was delayed, so snack time had came and went and the kids’ attentions spans were stretched and snapped by the time President Obama was sworn in. They did come running when I bellowed “More cookies! Quick!” and thus they became observers of undoubtedly a momentous event in our nation’s story. So for my kids, January 20, 2009 will stand out as the day mom went crazy and surprised them with cookies—twice. 

The day held a few surprises for me as well. I was surprised at the tears and emotion which rose in my eyes and heart as the kids and I prayed for our new president, for his safety and leadership and for our nation as a whole. I was surprised by the wave of cynicism that swept through my heart, especially anytime I turned on NPR. I felt left out and marginalized. This wasn’t the guy I voted for. He doesn’t represent my perspective or viewpoint, so why even bother to tune in? But other thoughts struggled against these dark clouds of pessimism. I have spent the last eight years wishing people would just give the President the benefit of the doubt, wishing that they would just listen for a minute before giving a knee-jerk, partisan response. And here I was on day one, full of suspicion and ready to pounce. At least now I understood the urge—you always sound cooler being against something than for it. 

The final surprise of the day was how quickly this moment was lost in the rhythm of the day’s ordinary events. As easily as you change the channel, we switched from history in the making to lunch making, naps and video time. I felt a bit chagrined at my fickleness, but perhaps this is the way it is meant to be. Perhaps we aren’t meant to dwell in the big picture for too long. We are creatures of the immediate, if for no other reason than because to linger on the large scale too long is to begin to feel terribly insignificant. After all, we are all history in the making, all starring in the role of our lifetime. So what to do? Shrink in the light of the massive scope of history or magnify the size of our own small world until it’s all we see? It is my intention to do a bit of both. To wake up each morning, whispering a small prayer for my President, my leaders and my country, taking a moment to stare the big picture head on. But then listen to the call of those pounding feet and legos at work and take on my part, one unmemorable day at a time.

Posted on

Snapshots

By Amy Spiegel

Brief comments on film by Amy.
Some old, some new.  Domestic films and foreign too.

John Adams—Any movie that I can get Jim to watch with me is a good movie (with the grim exception of Tropic Thunder—Ugh). Any six-hour movie I can convince him to watch is an instant classic. This one was so good that immediately after finishing the first disc via Netflix, we went out and rented the second at Blockbuster. I am a big Paul Giamatti fan (Sideways, Lady in the Water), and he doesn’t disappoint. Great performances, especially by Giamatti and Laura Linney who plays Abigail Adams.  I was in awe of the production and grateful to the filmmakers for simply telling the story without getting in the way or passing judgment. Various perspectives are presented and you are to decide for yourself what you think of Adams’ choices, both professionally and privately. They even portray marriage and commitment in a way that neither glosses over the ugly bits nor makes it appear one step higher than purgatory. If you have any interest in American history, this is a movie for you.

Proof—One of my Netflix buddies once told me that I enjoy far too many films. That may be true. However, there are at least as many that I loathe. I particularly hate movies that make me feel like an idiot for not liking them. Perhaps there should be a warning alongside the rating and the two “thumbs way up” on such films, reading something like “Be advised: People who don’t like this movie are morons and just don’t get it.” What’s not to like after all? It’s a movie about math brought to us by the mathematical genius who brought us such greats as Shakespeare in Love and Captain Corelli’s Mandolin. I felt like I could hear the writer giggling behind the television, waiting to explain the movie to me in long drawn about syllables, using very small words in case I was too dense to understand. “See…it’s called “Proof’ and she needs proof that she isn’t crazy. And that he loves her. And that she can trust him. Get it?” Take my advice. Never watch a film about math where the camera pans away and music swells every time the characters actually start talking about math.

Little Children—I watched this movie after a night of domestic duties, which this film suggests is a trap to avoid at all costs. Feeding dinner to the kids, cleaning up afterward, putting them to bed—all instruments of torture. The opening scene portrays moms who come off like Stepford wives on steroids—who would be enough to send women running to the nearest pharmacy demanding a lifetime supply of birth-control pills, or at least to their local childcare facility. I am not sure whom the makers of this film hate more—traditional stay-at-home moms, wives in general, husbands in general, or law-enforcement officers. You know it ain’t pretty when the most sympathetic character of them all is a pedophile. To me, this movie is a clear indicator of just how far into the moral abyss Hollywood has sunk. This is not dangerous beauty—lies and distortions wrapped in the seductively attractive wrappings of great art. This is lies and distortions wrapped in a brown paper bag with one or two corners ripped off. In other words, not only is the movie false and evil, it is also really, really badly done. It is as if the evil lurking in Hollywood has warped filmmakers’ aesthetic sense as well as their moral code. The combination of bad filmmaking, reprehensible preaching, and gratuitous nudity make this movie one to avoid.

The Tenant of Wildfell Hall—I usually review three films, but rather than end on a down note, let me recommend a movie that is worth going out of your way to see. If you are at all inclined to watch people dressed up in movement-restrictive clothing and ride around the country side on horses while searching for true love, this is a flick for you. Romance that doesn’t require you to check your morals or good sense at the door? What a novel concept. (Subscribers to Netflix can find this one in “Watch Instantly.” Great movie and it saves space in the ole queue. Can’t ask for more than that.)

Posted on

The Real Offense in Christianity

By Jim Spiegel

In my previous post—January 8—I discussed some aspects of Christianity which might explain why people might find it so offensive—it’s supposed dangerousness, blatant irrationality, and the exasperating nature of some Christian people.  None of these factors really explain the anger and hostility so often directed at Christianity.  So what is the explanation?  Since Christianity provokes people much more than Judaism or Islam (or generic theistic belief), there must be something about Jesus himself or the gospel message that bugs people so much.  What could that be? 

I suspect (as some readers intimated in their comments) that the resentment really has to do with the implications of Jesus’ crucifixion—the idea that he had to die (and resurrect) for our sins.  This implies, of course, that there is something wrong—terribly wrong—with humans which needs fixing.  Specifically, we need to be forgiven, and our offenses are so egregious that they called for a blood sacrifice.  And not just any blood-sacrifice.  Killing a toad or even an AKC-registered poodle wouldn’t do the atoning work.  In fact, not even a human child sacrifice would do.  No, it had to be the execution of a morally perfect person—God incarnate.  Now if that isn’t insulting to our pride as a species, I don’t know what is. 

Of course, this moral insult is well-deserved, if we are as naturally depraved as Scripture teaches.  But for those who think there is nothing wrong with human nature (despite the constant wars, human trafficking, ethnic cleansing, child molestation, and countless other evils all over the globe), I can see how this would seem ridiculous and even be a rather annoying claim.  Indeed, as the Apostle Paul said, “the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing” (1 Cor. 1:18). 

Lest we forget, the Christian story is also a profound compliment—that God loves us so much as to provide that sacrifice himself.  Again, to quote Paul: “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Cor. 5:21).  And, as it turns out, this is the only way to reconciliation with God, as Jesus declares, “No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6).  Yet this, too, is a blow to human pride, as it implies that we cannot save ourselves; even the most perfect repentance, apart from Christ, would be ineffectual in avoiding God’s judgment. 

So whatever else might bug people regarding Christianity, the ultimate source of offense is human pride.  People are offended by Jesus because his crucifixion represents both a divine condemnation of our sin and a statement that we cannot escape that condemnation on our own.  Again, I do see why this would bother people who think the Christian message is false.  If the Christmas and Easter stories are fictions, then our worldview is merely a profound insult; and as Paul says, “we are to be pitied more than all men” (1 Cor. 15:19).  But if Jesus really was the God-man and really did die and rise from the dead for us, then, well, that is wondrous—mind-boggling, in fact, and should make us very, very glad.  Far from being offensive, it is the best possible news.

Posted on

Voice Mail, Answering Machines, and Life “After the Beep”

By Amy Spiegel

This past week I called a friend on her cell phone and, finding her “unavailable,” I was passed on to her voice mail. The automated message proceeded to explain the process by which I could leave a message. (I believe that most tribes in the far-reaches of the Amazon Jungle now understand this process. Could we cut to the chase, please? We get it—wait for the beep.) I noted my friend’s carefully chosen and somewhat stilted tone and came to a relatively unimportant conclusion. As a rule, I dislike modern technologies. I heat my soup on the stove top rather than in the microwave (though I would cook on an open stove in the backyard if Jim didn’t think I would somehow burn down the neighborhood.) I rarely answer the call-waiting that was included our telephone service. I still own a pen and have been known to put it to use now and again. But among the resented but tolerated intruders lurks one of my most loathed technologies—voice mail and its more backward cousin, the answering machine. 

What is not to love about these automated wonders which magically communicate our messages from Aunt Suzie, Dr. So-and-So and our son’s basketball coach, you ask? Well, for starters there is the announcement recording. Never do I feel such pressure to make a good impression, to strike just the right balance between clever and to the point as I do when called upon to push the button and begin speaking after the beep. This is, of course, ridiculous because the people that are calling fall into three basic categories: 1) people that already know me and are entirely certain of my uncoolness. No need to try and pull the wool over their eyes. It isn’t as if one day, upon hearing an astoundingly amusing but considerately succinct announcement on our machine, my friends will suddenly reconsider their basic assumptions with regards to my hip rating; 2) people entirely unknown to me who are only trying to inform me that the gas bill is due or that Sam has a dentist appointment next Thursday at two. I truly pity these creatures of the telephone. I can only imagine how many unhappy hours they spend listening to worn out clichés recorded for all to hear, over and over again; and 3) my dear friend “Toll Free Number.” Jim and I receive innumerable calls from “Toll Free” and his good buddy “Unknown.” Unfortunately, they never seem to leave a message for us to return their call. If this last category of calls were the only ones we received, there would be no problem whatsoever. I would simply record nails on a chalk board and be done with it. 

Even worse than announcement recording is message leaving. At least with your own machine, you have the option to delete and try again. (I have noticed a growing trend of “If you are unhappy with your message” options for which I am grateful, though sadly I will never be happy with my message, so what’s the use?) With message leaving, it’s do or die and I must say, I usually end up in the latter category—dying of embarrassment. Oh my, did I really just say that? Again, my failed message attempts fall into one of several categories, but for the sake of parallelism I will note three: 1) the casual message that starts off okay but then begins to ramble, leavings lots of impertinent details and ending with a mortified mumbling of apologies. Often times, I am lulled into over-confidence by a good beginning which leads to my ultimate demise. I am not having a conversation with the person, simply leaving a message; 2) the trying-to-be-brief-and-to-the-point message which is usually a result of having left a casual message sometime in the recent past. This message attempts to leave only relevant information but ends up sounding too businesslike and sometimes downright rude. Frequently, after having left a rather demanding message—“This is Amy. Call me.”—I try to cover up and apologetically add “If you want. When you get a chance. Ya know, whenever.” Smooth, Real smooth; 3) Message from Hell. This is probably the most common message left by me these days. This is the one where I am hiding in the kitchen pantry trying to leave a message and the children discover me and begin terrorizing one another at high volume right into the phone receiver. If they can, they also try to throw juicy tid bits out there for all to hear like “Mommy, Sam ate all the candy you bribed us with and then Bailey hit him over the head with the bowl and now there is blood all over the crumbs that Andrew is licking off the floor, and I didn’t get any.” Things like that. Face burning, I turn into the phone and say “So anyway, Doctor, Thursday at two is fine. Thanks for the message and have a great day. If you want to. Or not. Ya know, whichever.”

Posted on

What’s So Offensive About Christianity?

By Jim Spiegel

This past holiday season saw more stories of communities using “holiday trees” instead of Christmas trees and retailers insisting that their employees not say “Merry Christmas” to customers, out of a concern not to offend people.  Some folks are disturbed by Christianity—much more so, it seems, than by the other major theistic traditions of Judaism and Islam.  So far I haven’t heard anyone complain about public use of the phrase “Happy Hanukkah” or “Happy Ramadan.” 

The last few years have also seen a marked upsurge in Christian-bashing, as bloggers and pop culture figures have become more brazen in their criticisms and lampooning of Christianity.  You don’t have to listen or read very long to see that this is not just a matter of intellectual dissent but visceral disgust.  The fact is—increasingly it appears—many people find Christianity offensive.  Why is this so? 

Let’s consider some possibilities.  Perhaps it is because Christian ideas and values are dangerous.  Sam Harris, Christopher Hitchens, and other new atheists think so, based on their observations that many terrible things have been done by religious people, including Christians.  They seem to overlook the myriad social goods that Christians have contributed throughout history and that Judeo-Christian values are foundational to the very concept of human rights (Nicholas Wolterstorff’s book Justice is the latest scholarly demonstration of this fact). The argument of Hitchens, et al. pivots on abuses of Christian teachings, not the doctrines themselves.  A crucial but common mistake.  Of course, notwithstanding all of this, the perception that Christian ideas are dangerous might still explain, in part, some people’s offense.

Another possibility is that people are offended by how pushy and aggressive some Christians are when it comes to their beliefs  This can be very annoying, as people are made to feel more like marketing target than persons.  This is actually one of my own pet peeves about the evangelical world.  But lots of non-Christians in our society are pushy with their beliefs as well.  Plenty of professors and entertainers are aggressive worldview proselytizers.  Every marketer pushes her products.  Every lobbyist presses her agenda.  Even scientists and auto mechanics proselytize others to win converts.  Evangelistic Christians might be more of a nuisance to some people than these other zealots, but, again, this doesn’t seem to explain the degree of offense that so many people feel in regards to Christianity and its adherents.  (In fact, renowned illusionist and atheist Penn Gillette regards such evangelistic fervor as admirable.  Check out a remarkable anecdote here.)

Thirdly, people might be offended by Christianity because they perceive it as obviously false, a blatant flouting of reason.  This seems to be what bugs Bill Maher in his controversial documentary Religulous  as well as the creators of The God Who Wasn’t There.  But, again, this doesn’t quite explain the level of disdain and even hatred that some people display towards Christianity and Christians.  When someone is as badly deluded as Christians are, according to these critics, the proper emotional response is not hatred but pity.  I don’t see a lot of pity on the part of the new atheists and anti-Christian critics.

My pastor recently suggested that the primary offending element is the suggestion, implicit in Christian theology, that there is a moral authority to which one is accountable.  There’s probably some truth to this.  In our culture the idea that one must live according to someone else’s standard, even if that Someone is God himself, is offensive to some people.  The problem with this answer is that it can’t explain why Christianity appears to offend people more than other theistic traditions, most notably Judaism and Islam.  Mention Moses or Mohammed with approval in a public context—or even quote either of them as an authority on some issue—and no one raises an eyebrow.  People may disagree with you, but they won’t try to censure you or get you fired.  But if you bring Jesus Christ into the conversation or—if you have the temerity—affirm his moral authority on an issue, then, well, look out. 

So what is it about Jesus Christ that is so offensive (if, indeed, it is not just his followers but Jesus himself who bugs folks so much)?  I will address this question in my next post but, in the meantime, I’d be happy to hear your own thoughts—in response to this question or anything else I’ve said.

Posted on

Kiddie Film, Aesthetics, and Over-priced Popcorn

By Amy Spiegel

For many years now, I have known of the inadequacies of the system by which movies are rated. Standing in the aisles of many a Blockbuster, I have asked myself the following questions: “Just what does ‘some mild language and crude humor’ mean? Are we talking a fart or two? A mooning here or there? Using the word ‘crap’ but not ‘s—‘?” And the deeper into the world of kiddie film culture I have gone, the more frustrated I have become. Too often “Rated G” not only stands for General Audience but “Generic” or “So mind-numbingly dull it could cause brain damage.” (Yes, I realize the last one doesn’t begin with a “g” but remember I am suffering from “G” syndrome, so cut me some slack.) It isn’t even that the movies are boring for adults. I feel a constant tension in desiring to see my kids develop an aesthetic appreciation for the art of filmmaking when so many of the movies made for them are horribly made, uncreative or transparently agenda-driven. The poor creatures are often forced to watch old classics with Jim and I such as Hitchcock’s Rebecca or Buster Keaton’s The General rather than sitting through two hours of our berating their beloved swill.

Still, kids will be kids, and I thought I had made my peace with the kid-flick industry. This past week, however, my somewhat benign annoyance bubbled over into a case of full-fledged loathing. Jim and I maintain the upper-hand with popular culture to a great extent by not allowing the kids to watch television. By limiting them to DVDs and the occasional, archaic VHS tape, we avoid a great deal of nagging regarding upcoming releases. Over the holidays, however, we visited my parents and my mother-in-law and the boys enjoyed a few days of unlimited access to the Cartoon Network and Animal Planet. They started asking to see Marley and Me and after seeing a few harmless-looking previews, I agreed to take them. I must confess to an ulterior motive in that I love going to the movies. Not just seeing movies, but the act of going to the movie theater, eating over-priced popcorn, the whole enchilada. So off we went. After all, it was rated PG. How bad could it be? Bad…really, really bad. Sure it had plenty “Oh, look they tied the dog to the table and he ran away to chase a cat” moments to keep the boys occupied. But it also had enough “Oh, look Jennifer Aniston is taking off her shirt and jumping into the pool” moments to make me choke on that over-priced popcorn and wish I had stayed home and watched another episode of Flapjack. It isn’t too often that you have discussions with your nine-year old regarding birth control and the inappropriateness of bikinis in one afternoon. While I blame no one but myself for having blindly walked into the theater without much in the way of screening, what are these filmmakers thinking? Have they ever met a child? Do they really think this is what parents and kids want to sit and watch together? I may have my beefs with Walt Disney—hard-core Darwinist and occasional racist that he was—but at least he knew his audience. Call me outmoded, but I long for movies that tell a great story in an appropriate way for kids. When such a film comes out, let me know. I’ll be standing in the aisles of Blockbuster, muttering to myself and trying to keep my rantings at a PG level.

Posted on

Happy New Year (Whatever that Means)

By Jim Spiegel

When I exchanged “Happy New Year” greetings with someone yesterday, I found myself thinking “What a relief that I can use a holiday salutation which is not potentially offensive because it implicitly endorses my religion—Christianity.  Unlike “Merry Christmas,” a phrase containing the messianic title of the One whose birth we celebrate, “Happy New Year” is free from any such reference.  But then, as I reflected, it occurred to me that even this phrase potentially endorses Christianity—at least if we refer to the new year as 2009.  For what does that number signify but the (approximate) number of years that have passed since Jesus Christ was born.  It is, after all, A.D. (Anno Domini—“Year of our Lord”) 2009.  So now I’m wondering when someone will begin a serious public campaign to change the current dating system because it tacitly honors Jesus as the chronological reference point of world history.

Of course, this has already been addressed in scholarly circles by the “Common Era” system, in which the abbreviations “B.C.” and “A.D.” are supplanted, respectively, by “B.C.E.” (“Before the Common Era”) and “C.E.” (“Common Era”).  However, this change is merely nominal, as the dates used are the same as ever, the pivotal reference point still being the birth of one Jesus of Nazareth.  So is there a different historical event which would be a more broadly acceptable alternative?  In the 1790s, supposedly, there was a movement in France to make the French Revolution the key chronological marker.  Obviously, that never caught on.  Perhaps something like Aldous Huxley’s fictional suggestion of “A.F.” (“After Ford”) would be more appropriate.  In Brave New World the “Ford” dating system made pivotal the year (A.D.) 1908, when the first Model-T was made.  Huxley rightly saw how modern technology would change the world (and how we think about the world).  But, with the benefit of hindsight (and some reasonable foresight), we might settle on the computer as a more impactful technology.  Perhaps we could dub 1936 as the pivotal year (marking the introduction of the Z1 Computer, a primitive machine useful for basic calculations).  This would have the natural appeal of allowing for continued use of “B.C.” (“Before Computers”) and implementation of “C.E.” (“Computer Era”), which would represent a sort of compromise between the Christian and Common Era dating systems, at least ostensibly.  That would make this year 73 C.E., and it would also mean that Jesus himself was born in the year 1936 B.C. (or, adjusted for historical precision, perhaps something like 1939 B.C.).

Somehow I don’t think this proposal holds much promise for catching on either.  On the whole, human civilization is just too thoroughly committed to the Christian dating system.  As a Christian, of course, this is okay by me, since I think it makes sense to regard God’s incarnational entrance into human history as the central event.  But should non-Christians be bothered by this?  Should they take offense by expressions such as “Happy 2009” as some are by expressions like “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Easter”?  If so, then perhaps we should qualify our “Happy New Year” salutation somehow.  How about this:  “Happy New Year, Whatever the Word ‘Year’ Might Mean to You.”  Ah, now doesn’t that have a pleasant, inclusive ring to it?  Hmm…  Lets see if it catches on.