What is Christian Individualism?

On my Amazon author page I begin by describing myself (in the third person) as a Christian Individualist and end by referring to my study of Bible teacher Otis Q. Sellers (1901-1992), a work-in-progress since 2017: “It [the prospective book] will explain what Flood means by ‘Christian Individualist,’ if anyone is interested.”

That’s too long to wait for an explanation; thus, this site. Its log line is “Helping you navigate this dispensation’s last days (2 Tim. 3; Eph. 3:2).” God’s present administration or dispensation being characterized exclusively by grace, or so goes the Sellersian thesis to which I subscribe, “Christian Individualism” stands for what is required of believers in the Lord Jesus Christ today.

And what is not required, namely, membership in a “church,” the English mistranslation of ἐκκλησία (ekklēsia) that we’re apparently stuck with. Being a Christian Individualist does not prevent one from engaging in any given activity that one might associate with being a church member. Any similarity, however, is purely coincidental, for no organization today corresponds—could correspond—to what ἐκκλησία signifies in the New Testament.[1]

Continue reading “What is Christian Individualism?”

The Divinely Inspired Satire of the Rich Man and Lazarus

“All Scripture is given by inspiration of God. The story of the rich man and Lazarus is a divinely inspired satire …. It is as much the Word of God as any other portion of Scripture. It was not given for the purpose of teaching men about the ways and works of God. Its purpose was to turn the light upon the Pharisees. It is not the place to go to find what our Lord taught about death, the state of the dead, future punishment, or future bliss.”[1]

It bothered Otis Q. Sellers when writers would take a biblical passage that was about one thing to support a doctrine not at all under consideration. Nowhere was this abuse of Scripture more egregious than in the deployment of Luke 16:19-31 to support the doctrine of eternal conscious torment of the lost.

In 1941, he offered an interpretation under the title The Rich Man and Lazarus. Following his What Is the Soul? (1939), it was just as radical a break with tradition. That Lucan passage is the prooftext for the traditional church doctrine of “hell” as the destiny of the damned, a place or state of interminable suffering. It was not enough to show that “hell” in English Bibles translates a Hebrew word (sheol) and three Greek ones (hades, Gehenna, and tartaros.) It was also necessary to deprive tradition of its favorite prooftext.

In 1962 Sellers reissued his study after “the whole matter could be carefully reconsidered and rewritten.” Much church doctrine hangs on this passage: “Many preachers are no longer able to distinguish between their sermons … and the record written in the Word of God ….”[2] When Sellers decided to do for “hell” what he had just done for the soul, he began by taking Luke 16:19-31 off the table.

… it has been my happy and fruitful labor to examine with microscopic exactitude every one of the 859 passages in the sacred Scriptures that give testimony concerning the soul. Careful analysis of every one of these passages has resulted in the inescapable conclusion that the Bible teaches that man is a soul—not that he has a soul as is generally believed. That man has a soul is the Platonic theory; that man is a soul is the Biblical testimony. Furthermore, these studies have demonstrated that there is no such thing in Scripture as an immortal soul, or a never-dying soul. However, in seeking to present these findings to others I discover that with many the effort is useless, for they firmly believe that the story of the rich man and Lazarus, which does not even mention the word soul, stands in opposition to all that I have found to be true and try to teach (3).

Continue reading “The Divinely Inspired Satire of the Rich Man and Lazarus”

“Philosophy after Christ”: James N. Anderson’s review

This morning James N. Anderson, Carl W. McMurray Professor of Theology and Philosophy at Reformed Theological Seminary in Charlotte and author of What’s Your Worldview?: An Interactive Approach to Life’s Big Questions—see a list of his other publications—alerted me to his review, published today, of my Philosophy after Christ: Thinking God’s Th0ughts after Him. It appears on his blog Analogical Thoughts (a.k.a., προγινώσκω, proginōskō, “to foreknow”; see Romans 8:29). For his praise of the book I am grateful, but for his criticisms, I am indebted to him. Please take this link.

 

Sellers on translating Colossians

Otis Q. Sellers (1901-1992)

Rather than let February slip away without at least one post, I’m reproducing Otis Q. Sellers’s thoughts on how he went about translating a portion of Scripture, in this case Paul’s letter to the Colossians. His verse-by-verse commentary is available in his tape library, TL081-TL087. (Go to this page of his site.) Here’s my lightly edited transcription of TL081 (from about the 16:00 mark to about 21:33).

 

On Translating Colossians

When we get into this, we want to do the research. We want to see if we can come to some understanding of what is meant by the actual words here. For thousands have made a study of Colossians as far as the King James Version is concerned without any reference to the original Greek. But those who desire the knowledge of what Paul said, and not just a version of what he said, they’re forced to go back of its renderings. They’re forced to go back and consider the Greek text.

Some will do this and come to a conclusion concerning a few words, and thus a word here and there is straightened out. Others may give careful consideration of every word in the Greek text and come to certain conclusions concerning all of them. These conclusions concerning single words will then be linked together, and they can form phrases and sentences.

I have given such consideration, to every word in the Greek text of Colossians. The result is what I will present to you in an honest attempt to tell you what Paul meant by what he said when he wrote this epistle. In the past two centuries, an almost unbelievable amount of Biblical expository material has been put into print since the King James Version was translated. The research worker can find on his shelves page after page of the most critical discussion that covers every one of the more than fifty-five hundred Greek words that are found in the New Testament, including the proper names.

I look about my study here; I’m surrounded on two sides by books, and in them I can find the discussion of every single Greek word in the New Testament on which some man has concentrated and done the work. Every important word in Colossians has been discussed at great length by men whose goal was to get at its meaning. Some of this material is nothing more than one man just seeking to step into the footprints of those who have preceded him.

But some of it will be found to be the efforts of men who have made the most minute inquiry; their findings are of great value. When I think of the works of men like Herman Cremer and of Moulton and Milligan, and when I think of Thayer, then I’m setting forth examples of this. I will draw freely upon the labors of such men. But, when it comes to the final analysis, the conclusions as to what this word means has to strictly be my own.

What I do, as a rule, is to take each word in the Greek and write it a vertical column, one word after another—the big words, the little words—in a vertical column. Then in a parallel column, I take the word and parse it. I check all the authorities in doing this to make sure that I do not go wrong. We can parse these words. We’ll know whether it’s past or present or future; we’ll know if the verb is in the aorist tense or not. A number of authorities have worked on these; we can check one authority against the other. Then in the third column after I have done this, I give a tentative English rendering.

Every word has to be checked in every possible way a word can be checked, with supreme consideration given to the use of the word in other passages in the New Testament. Then I also give due consideration to the translations that have been made by others. In working on Colossians I am sure I have referred to at least 25 different versions of the Colossians epistle; I would say about the same number of commentaries have been searched for material that may be of value in translating and interpreting this epistle.

The commentaries as a rule are a little disappointing, but we find also that sometimes a commentator has made a drive for the truth; it’s just evident that he went into this word, and not repeating something that was said before (although it’s good to repeat things said before if those things prove to be true). All of that is brought together, and this is what we give to you as being the meaning of what was said in the Greek when Paul wrote Colossians.

* * *

For a detailed written example of the application of the precepts, see Sellers’s work on Paul’s letter to the Ephesians in six issues of Seed & Bread SB058-SB063.

I hope to have more substantial posts next month.

Links to other posts on Otis Q. Sellers

“Capitalism”: another socially engineered misnomer?

The label “capitalism,” a staple of anti-free market propaganda since the days of Das Kapital, reinforces the idea that history consists of a series of stages of which “capitalism” is but one, scheduled for displacement by another. It’s a misnomer but, as Hayek suggested, it’s one we’re probably stuck with.

Capital is what wealth becomes when traders do not consume the yield of their labor or trade, but invest it in an enterprise so as to earn interest or (as it was once called) “usury.”[1]

Capital is a factor of production, alongside two original factors, land and labor. “Capitalism” should clang in our ears as would “landism” or “laborism.” There is no justification for referring to any stretch of human history as “capitalism,” as though once upon a time people did not exchange property titles and will one day “return” to a marketless, and propertyless social order, all the wiser for having passed through the hell of “class society.”

In many ways it is misleading to speak of “capitalism” as though this had been a new and altogether different system which suddenly came into being toward the end of the eighteenth century; we use this term here because it is the most familiar name, but only with great reluctance, since with its modern connotations it is itself largely a creation of that socialist interpretation of economic history with which we are concerned. The term is especially misleading when, as it often the case, it is connected with the idea of the rise of the propertyless proletariat, which by some devious process have been deprived of their rightful ownership of the tools for their work.[2]

But are we stuck with “capitalism”? Must bad words drive out good as though in obedience to the linguistic equivalence of Gresham’s Law? Here’s the danger I perceive in acquiescing in the devaluation.

Monsignor William Smith

I remember hearing in the 1990s Monsignor William Smith (1939-2009), who taught moral theology at Saint Joseph’s Seminary, articulate this aphorism: social engineering begins with verbal engineering. The epigram may not have originated with him, but an article on the topic connects him to it and notes Chesterton’s insights into the verbal barbarism underlying the physical consequences of adopting it:

Whenever widespread social engineering of this magnitude occurs, it is invariably preceded by skillful verbal engineering. The late Msgr. William Smith observed that the argument about contraception was basically over as soon as modern society accepted the deceptive phrase, “birth control” into its vocabulary. “Imagine if we had called it, ‘life prevention’,” he once remarked. The great Gilbert Keith Chesterton put it this way: ” They insist on talking about Birth Control when they mean less birth and no control,” and again: “Birth Control is a name given to a succession of different expedients by which it is possible to filch the pleasure belonging to a natural process while violently and unnaturally thwarting the process itself.”[3]

The pursuit of “equity” leads to unequal treatment under the law. Champions of “inclusion” and “diversity” exclude and oppress nonconformists. There’s nothing more illiberal than what marches under the banner of “liberalism.” Like military justice, “social justice” is to justice as military music is to music.[4] Any social order grounded in respect for persons and their right to acquire and exchange property profitably deserves a better tag than “capitalism.”

Notes

[1] As Jesus taught in His parable of the talents, it is sometimes morally imperative to earn interest (τόκῳ, tokō) (Matthew 25:27). Mosaic law, however, under which Jesus and his audience lived, prohibited an Israelite from charging interest to fellow Israelites. (Deuteronomy 23:20) In effect, the Israelite lender was obliged to make a gift to his fellow Israelite out of the foregone use of the loaned money.

[2] F. A. Hayek, “History and Politics,” in Capitalism and the Historians, Hayek, ed., The University of Chicago Press, 1954, 14-15.

[3] Father Tadeusz Pacholczyk, Ph.D., “Verbal Engineering and the Swaying of Public Conscience,” Catholic Education Resource Center, 2009. (One can see Smith teach here.) See also Greg Schleppenbach, “Verbal engineering always precedes social engineering,” Southern Nebraska Register, February 21, 2014.

[4] Apologies to Robert Sherrill.

In defense of Lord Acton, revisited

John Emerich Edward Dalberg-Acton, 1st Baron Acton, 13th Marquess of Groppoli, Knight Commander Victorian Order, Deputy Lieutenant, January 10, 1834 – June 19, 1902

On the birthday of the great liberal Catholic historian John Dalberg-Acton (1834-1902), I’ve decided to republish what I posted three years ago. (It will be new to some, if not most, of you.) It’s prefaced by links to Acton-related posts of mine and followed by the text of a 2006 answer to an attack on Acton—which I’d call ignorant were its author not a learned Catholic historian. Like my Christ, Capital & Liberty, whose chapters began as blog posts critical of another traditionalist Catholic, the arguments and evidence marshaled in my essay deserve more exposure than my old site can give them.—A.G.F.

 

 

John C. Rao, Ph. D. [Oxon.], Associate Professor of History emeritus, Saint John’s University, College of Liberal Arts and Sciences
“In Defense of Lord Acton,” reproduced below, was written in January 2006 in response to “A Message from Bethlehem: Lord Acton Tends to Corrupt,” a smear of Acton as a “Gnostic” by Professor John C. Rao of St. John’s University. The Remnant, a traditionalist Catholic periodical, published Rao’s defamation of Acton on the last day of 2005. Its original title of my response was, “Do Illiberals Tend to Smear? Or Is It Just Professor Rao When It Comes to Lord Acton?” The editor not only didn’t publish it, but even after more than one query, wouldn’t even acknowledge receiving it.

In Defense of Lord Acton

The significance of the Incarnation of the Prince of Peace for society is always a timely topic, and never a more welcome one than at Christmastime. It is the motif of Professor John C. Rao’s vast historical studies, and I expected his recent column in The Remnant1 to add one more variation on that theme. He more than disappointed any such expectation by taking the occasion of the season to impute heresy-mongering, if not heresy itself, to Lord Acton, a man who regarded communion with the Church as dearer than life itself. That is, Professor Rao maligned a fellow member of his own profession, a towering figure in European historiography who participated in the unearthing of many official archives. And he did it not by examining any of Acton’s own words, but rather by repeatedly asserting what he “really” meant. Feeling glum2 cannot excuse such a lapse from the standards of controversy. Continue reading “In defense of Lord Acton, revisited”

Pat Martino and Herbert Aptheker: Half-century Memories

Pat Martino (L) and yours truly, January 1, 1973, 3:20 A.M., Folk City, 130 West 3rd Street, NYC.

This photo was taken on January 1, 1973 at Folk City, 130 West Third Street, in Manhattan.[1] After several months of screwing up the courage to ask Jazz guitar legend Pat Martino (1944-2021) for a lesson (I had first spoken to him there on September 9, 1972), he agreed earlier that New Year’s Day to give me a lesson if I’d be willing to travel to his home in Philadelphia. Before taking the  train at New York’s Penn Station on January 24th, I noticed the  headlines of the newspapers that day: the Paris Peace Accords ending the Vietnam War would be signed three  days later.

A philosophy student at New York University (NYU)—where I took Sidney Hook’s last course—I had spent 1972 worrying about how I might avoid the military draft. Although my Selective Service (SS) number was 40, I heard they weren’t going to call higher than 25. Shortly after that, Defense Secretary Melvin Laird announced the end of the draft.

I had been anxious about the future. Fighting my Vietnamese comrades was out of the question, but the various “draft-dodging” (or court martial-inviting) options were not much more congenial. You see, I was from 1971 to 1975 a card-carrying member of the Communist Party (CP), one who had registered with SS and was then assisting Communist writer and theoretician Herbert Aptheker (1915-2003) with finding various books and articles pursuant to his literary executorship of W. E. B. Du Bois’s papers.[2]

That’s whom Pat Martino was posing with on New Year’s Day 1973. For the nearly five decades I knew him, I hasten to add, he was never aware of my politics.

On the advice of CP attorney John Abt, who urged me to claim my First Amendment right of freedom of association, I declined to answer the Army’s questions about my political affiliation. After isolating me from other registrants for a few hours and then interrogating me, the SS officers dropped the matter and let me go home. I never heard from them again. I returned to my NYU classes the next day. They probably have a thick file on me.

January 1973 is also the month Aptheker acknowledged my assistance and that of others in his introduction to The Annotated Bibliography of the Published Writings of W. E. B. Du Bois (Kraus-Thomson Limited, 1973), which he edited along with an additional 40 volumes of Du Bois’s writings.

In 1946 Aptheker returned from Europe where, rising to the rank of Major, he had commanded the all-Black 350th artillery unit. That’s the year Du Bois (1868-1963) made Aptheker—unable to secure an academic position in the Cold War’s the first year—the executor of his literary estate. In that introduction my name appeared in a scholarly publication for the first time.[3]

Herbert Aptheker signing over W. E. B. Du Bois’s papers to the University of Massachusetts in 1973 (that is, the portion that had been entrusted to him: the rest went to Fisk University and to Ghana, where Du Bois took up residence in 1961, never to return to the country of his birth).

In a few years I’d part company with him, a story for another time. I eventually settled accounts with my erstwhile political conscience in Herbert Aptheker: Studies in Willful Blindness. 

Over the last fifty years I pursued philosophical, political, and musical studies in ways I could never have imagined (or, if I could, would necessarily have welcomed). At 19, a half century (a reasonable unit of historical account) seemed impossibly long to me. It does not feel that way today.

Aptheker, a widower in his last four years, passed away at age 87 almost two decades ago; Pat, having made a seemingly miraculous comeback from amnesia-inducing brain surgery in the early ’80s, succumbed to a long illness last year, age 78.

Socially isolated, I left the Party in 1975 and Marxism altogether a couple of years later; I never became either a professional guitarist (not for want of trying) or a professor of philosophy. Each man left his mark on my sense of life. I enter the new  year appreciative of their influence and hope by God’s grace to continue to build on what I’ve learned from knowing them and so many others.

I wish all my subscribers and visitors a happy, prosperous, and healthy new year!

Anthony G. Flood

January 1, 2023

My wife Gloria, Pat Martino, and me, September 9, 1995, Blue Note Club, NYC, directly across the street from where Folk City was, 23 years to the day after I had first spoken with him.

Notes

[1] The Fat Black Pussycat night club/comedy venue does business there now. Before Folk City, there was Tony Pastor’s Downtown (1939-1967).

[2] Of the countless requests he gave me over the years, here are four.

 

[3] 

 

Conceived on December 25th, born on September 29th

Given the season, I’m reposting what first appeared here last July 19th under the wordier title, “Having become flesh on 25 December, 5 BC, He began tabernacling among us on 29 September, 4 BC.” I highlight evidence buried in the notes of E. W. Bullinger’s The Companion Bible, first published a century ago.  Don’t miss the notes appended to this post. (If you have difficulty falling asleep, they should do the trick.) Merry Christmas! —A.G.F.

 

“And the Word became (ἐγένετο, egeneto) flesh (σάρξ, sarx) and dwelt (ἐσκήνωσεν, eskēnōsēn) among us . . . .” John 1:14

In “The Divine Purpose,” Otis Q. Sellers wrote:

In all the work that God has done for mankind, is now doing for mankind, and will yet do for mankind, there is a definite goal, a fixed purpose. To state it as simply as possible, His object in all His work is to produce a people who know Him, who understand Him, who love and appreciate Him, a people with whom He can joyfully dwell, and among whom He can center Himself in view of a greater program for the universe.

If the Bible is read carefully from Genesis to Revelation, it will be found that this end is reached and becomes a reality in Revelation 21. There under a new order of things described as “a New Heaven and New Earth,” the tabernacle of God is seen as being with men, He is dwelling (tabernacling) with them, they are His people, and He is their God. This is as far as Revelation takes us, yet we can rightfully go a step beyond this and envision a great divine program in which mankind will be vitally involved as those who are working and not those upon whom God is working. A tabernacle (skenos) in Scripture when used figuratively always denotes a center of activity, and it could not be that God would bring about such a center and then not use it.[1]

To “become flesh” is to be, not born, but rather “begotten,” that is, conceived. The root of ἐγένετο (egeneto) is γίνομαι (ginomai), to come into existence.

The one who is born, who exits the womb, is already flesh, which precedes “dwelling among us.”[2] (She who “can’t bring a baby into this world” and so procures an abortion only achieves the death of an already begotten and in-the-world baby.)

The English “to dwell” doesn’t capture the Greek ἐσκήνωσεν (eskēnōsēn), the form of σκηνόω (skēnoō) in John 1:14. The root is σκηνή (skēne), originally the hut or tent where players changed masks and costumes behind the stage; later, the stage itself. (Our “scene” descends from this.)

When Jerome translated into Latin the Hebrew הַסֻּכּ֛וֹת (hasukkoth) of, say, Deuteronomy 16:16, he used tabernaculum, the diminutive of taberna. (Our “tavern” echoes this.) He rendered that verse’s Hebrew as in solemnitate tabernaculorum, that is, “in the feast of the tabernacles.”

Tabernacles are booths. Annually, Jews today set up booths where they commemorate סֻכּוֹת‎, Sukkot, one of three Torah-commanded pilgrimages to the Temple which was destroyed in 70 A.D. (The other two are פסח, Pesach, “Passover” and שבועות, Shavous, “Pentecost.”)

In 5 BC, the angel Gabriel announced two conceptions, that of John (the “Forerunner”: Luke 1:13), and then of his cousin, Jesus (Luke 1:31). Gabriel addressed the first to John’s father, Zacharias; the second to Jesus’ mother, Mary. According to E. W. Bullinger: Continue reading “Conceived on December 25th, born on September 29th”

What’s in store for 2023

Otis Q. Sellers, 1901-1992

While my country is being invaded (to name no other enormity about to befall us) I will, God willing, finish my manuscript on Otis Q. Sellers, about whom I’ve blogged (and drafted a lot apart from this platform) over the past few years.

One challenge I’ve faced is how to represent myself. I’m not a professor of Hebrew or Greek or of the Bible, but then I wasn’t a professor of American Communism when I compiled the chapters of Herbert Aptheker: Studies in Willful Blindness; or of political economy when I blogged Christ, Capital & Liberty: A Polemic into existence; or of philosophy (which I did study formally at the graduate level) before writing the posts that became Philosophy after Christ: Thinking God’s Thoughts after Him. Nevertheless, I’m proud of their contents and stand by them.

Reflecting on these books, I see that each expressed a polemical impulse to set a record straight, not to bolster a curriculum vitae. Were I to write my Sellers book to, say, impress a church historian or scripture scholar, I would doom it to failure. I also don’t think I could muster the interest to see it through.

If, however, I were to order my historical and biographical material to tell the story of my Christian Individualism (the new working title for Maverick Workman) as it found fulfillment in Sellers’s, I believe the book can resonate with fellow Christian truth-seekers. (If they manage to stumble upon it.)

While that’s going on in the background, I’ll be giving expression to other interests, especially Marxism, with which I had more than a nodding acquaintance a half-century ago, an ideological cancer that’s metastasizing throughout the body of Western culture (or what remains of it). It continues to scramble people’s minds, and it’s about time I say what I have to about it. Continue reading “What’s in store for 2023”

C. L. R. James: First Amazon Review of New Biography

The following of review of John L. Williams, CLR James: A Life Beyond the Boundaries (Constable, 2022) was published on Amazon today. I’m preparing a libertarian Christian evaluation of James’s life and work, to be published, God willing, next year.—A.G.F.

The Boundaries of a Mind’s Quilt

In his biography of C. L. R. James (1901-1989), published the year before its subject died, James scholar Paul Buhle predicted that James’s story “will look different, more complete and more understandable, from the mid-twenty-first century than from” the late 1980s (C. L. R. James: The Artist as Revolutionary, 1). Before even this century’s quarter mark, John L. Williams has mined and elegantly refined much of that progress in completeness and intelligibility.

The subtitle, A Life Beyond the Boundaries, echoes James’s memoir 1963 Beyond a Boundary. That title in turn reflects his passion, as player and commentator, for cricket as well as his intellectual interest in perimeters, those of the game, of society, and of empire.

A glance at James’s literary accomplishments alone before he reached the age of 40 should move the most casual observer to take notice: Minty Alley (written in the 1920s, published in 1936), the first novel by a African-Caribbean author to be published in the United Kingdom; the translation of Boris Souvarine’s first of its kind and massive Stalin from the French (1936); the play Toussaint L’Ouverture (1934), in which James performed with Paul Robeson; the ground-breaking The Black Jacobins (1938). Each in itself was a tour de force; collectively (this list is not exhaustive) they almost beggar belief, yet those who knew the polymath came to expect that level of achievement from him.

Williams follows the pattern of his profiles of Shirley Bassey, Eartha Kitt, and Michael X; there as here, he is more investigative journalist than intellectual historian. Having enjoyed this book, however, this reviewer believes it’s about time that CLR (as Williams refers to him throughout) got a more personal treatment. In this respect, Williams has delivered. Continue reading “C. L. R. James: First Amazon Review of New Biography”