Interesting entry related to what is here:
http://www.jeffwofford.com/2006/11/wading-in-skubala.html
And He [Jesus] also told this parable to some people who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and viewed others with contempt:
'Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood and was praying this to himself: "God, I thank You that I am not like other people: swindlers, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I pay tithes of all that I get."
'But the tax collector, standing some distance away, was even unwilling to lift up his eyes to heaven, but was beating his breast, saying, "God, be merciful to me, the sinner!"
'I tell you, this man went to his house justified rather than the other; for everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but he who humbles himself will be exalted.'
Chesterton proposes at the outset of his The Everlasting Man that 'the next best thing to being really inside Christendom is to be really outside it.' He specifically seeks in that book to view history and the Incarnation as though from the eyes of the utterly 'outside' pagan -- not, as he also addresses, his modernist contemporaries who essentially had (as a historical reality) a pseudo-/post-Christian vantage point and not that of the unbiased, pre-Christian pagan.
The next best thing to being really inside is to be really outside. Hence, it is my opinion that there is cause to rejoice over Western culture's gradually living up to what is called a 'post-Christian reality'; it is better (to say nothing of being more honest) to (1) become disillusioned with an odd, limited strain of cultural Christianity that has devolved into pure nihilism than to (2) blithely remark that the U.S. of A. is a nation 'founded on Christian principles' ... like radical libertarianism and dog-eat-dog capitalism.
It has taken me a little over 23 years (a month or two after that) to 'really' realise that we all are/were 'outside' but for the grace of God. Now, such a statement comes easily without any demand for commitment, because we hear and profess this sort of thing in front of photo-ops and social gatherings. 'We're all sinners but for the saving grace of God.' This becomes an issue, however, when we've forgotten what the words crossing our lips 'really' mean. Such terminology has become so trite, abused, and overly familiar that I'm afraid it has generally lost its radical critique of our lifestyles and world-view.
Legalism generally begins with good motives; in the post-Exilic years of Judah, truly pious Jews petitioned the Pharisees for extremely specific Sabbath laws (out of their love for God), yet by the time Jesus enters the scene we find such laws having taken on a life of their own in an abusive, hypocritical systemme of oppression. I have no doubt that there are Catholics who sneer at people who don't genuflect 'correctly' or who roll their eyes at someone who says the Fatima prayer after the Glory Be ... or whatever; I wouldn't doubt that for a minute. In the Nazarene denomination (historically referring to itself as a pietistic movement), in order to make a 'cultural statement,' Nazarenes refrain from the use of alcohol and the tobacco while not altogether calling it a sin. Perhaps this is a noble-hearted intention, but this has created a truly odd and abusive situation. I have been guilty of (and witnessed) the stratification and 'cold-shoulder' evaluation of persons if they have a cigarette in their hand or beer with their meal. Despite all the flowery words about all of us being saved by grace -- those words that came flowing in rivers from my mouth for 23 years -- I as a Nazarene alienated (on a subconscious level) and witnessed other Nazarenes alienate persons who participate in activities that the Nazarene denomination doesn't even call sin! Such an odd phenomenon could be explored at length (I won't do so here) in 'American-Christian' pietism's treatment of race/nationality (e.g. illegal immigrants? outsiders?), social responsibility, environmental responsibility, political affiliation/views, the use of 'swear words', economic status, and so forth. Ultimately, pietism creates hoops through which to jump and criteria to meet -- a legalistic yoke strapped onto true Christianity.
Now, legalism is legalism, and it's bad. This is neither a Catholic nor a Protestant problem; it's a sin problem. Also, living 'loosely' is certainly just as much a sin as legalism (and one in which human persons similarly fall), but I will tie all of this into this entry in a few moments.
...It had been during a daily Mass; it had been a little over 23 years when the solidarity (the catholicity, if you will) of humanity finally took root within my heart. At that point, I had still been completely unfamiliar with the 'order of service'; the whole liturgy presented itself as a beautiful mystery. Suddenly my eyes were opened, and God planted something within my heart in those moments (and such a thing obviously goes beyond this subject at hand, largely beyond the small dominion of my comprehension). Early in the Mass, those gathered participate in a penitential rite, in which they confess their sin to the entire Church and literally beat their breasts, saying 'I have sinned through my own fault ... in what I have done and what I have failed to do...' and then ask the entire Church for their prayers and the Lord for His mercy. At another place, upon preparing to partake in the Eucharist, those gathered pray, 'Lord, I am not worthy...'. All rejoice together at the Scripture readings. Finally, all come to the one table to receive Sustenance. ...And there is certainly more here for consideration upon which I will not even begin to touch.
T.S. Eliot is said to have remarked, 'True art communicates even before it is understood.' On this particular subject -- of humanity's solidarity in sin and salvation -- the metaphor of the Mass is solid and powerful: all are made penitent together, all have sinned and fall short, and (ultimately) all are invited to the table of Sustenance. Those who partake are those who have accepted the King's invitation to His table, have taken up His cup, and have been confirmed to His banquet; but there are no 'special seats' for those who have been confirmed and those who may or may not eventually accept, take up, and be confirmed. The only distinction is in the partaking, which is a sheerly logical distinction. There are only the same silly sheep of the Shepherd at the Mass -- those who are on His pastures, and those He is still seeking to save.
It is noteworthy that erring toward loose living is even so the embrace of something, whereas 'American-Christian' pietism sets up violent walls with its criteria and marks things 'off' its list. Truly Christian liberty is not this fabricated notion of individualism we've cooked up; Christian liberty is the embrace of life and life more abundant. The Incarnation demonstrates how God has sanctified humanity: by taking on flesh and embracing humanity. This is the sanctification to which we've been called: one that takes all of life -- yes, even the tobacco -- in an embrace and transforms it. This is also a harmonious sanctification, not one that avoids alcohol diligently while being horrifically uncharitable with a Democrat.
'Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you tithe mint and dill and cummin, and have neglected the weightier provisions of the law: justice and mercy and faithfulness; but these are the things you should have done without neglecting the others. You blind guides, who strain out a gnat and swallow a camel!'
-rick
