Myers observes–with particular poignancy to our current election–that in the early years of this country, the Americans thinking deeply about the nature of governance and legislation were also the ones governing and legislating. In the last hundred years, the particular tasks of politics (and really, the particular tasks that make up all our lives) have been atomized into distinct specializations performed by experts, so that many politicians spend careers focused on the specializations of campaigning and legislating without dealing with  communities as a whole.

The philosophy of specialization and the metaphor of the machine have brought a similar fragmentation to every corner of our lives; our daily jobs, families, and our selves.

Akron Marathon Course Video

I am SO excited. I’ll be running with Rob’s sister Molly, and my neighbor who trained with me last summer is going to be running the Half Marathon. We’ve overcome injuries, lack of sleep, Molly’s gone off to college, and we’re so ready to finally beat the 26.2 miles that have spent the year haunting us.

Wish us luck!

I cringed when McCain said he wanted to “defeat” evil, but its worth noting he immediately talked about hunting down bin Laden and winning the War on Terror. I think both formulations are wrong in their own way (I don’t much care about bin Laden, and I think the phrase “War on Terror” is stupid), but he wasn’t literally talking about the removal of evil from the world in a metaphysical sense. In fact, he was responding to Rick Warren’s formulation of picking between “ignoring, negotiating with, containing, or defeating” evil — I would have chosen “contain,” but isn’t nuance lost in most multiple choice settings?

If you’re going to compare cringe-worthy quotes from the debate, though, Obama’s “above my pay grade” comment regarding giving human rights to babies made me wince far more. Gene Veith discusses that one here.

I was supposed to run 8 miles this morning, but Elise is on a sleeping strike so I woke up moments before Rob had to leave for work. This obviously left no time for me to squeeze in even a shortened run. So instead, I decided to load up the bike trailer and my bike and take the girls on a long nap-time bike ride.

When ever I do my city errands on the bike I’m shouting back to Elise not to drift off between stops so I was certain it would take no time for her to zonk and I would get a good 90 minutes of biking on the trails before Olivia got bored. Well, I was so wrong. SOOOOOO wrong.

Elise didn’t fall asleep until after we had gone about 10 miles and she had cried for the last 3 of them. I kept thinking, “just a little farther and she’ll be out.” But no. I had promised Olivia that we’d see this long tunnel before we turned around, but there was no way I would have made it the next 3 miles before Elise totally freaked out so we headed home, defeated.

I kid you not, a mile and a half after I turned back for home Elise fell asleep, so I asked Liv if she still wanted to see the tunnel. “Yes!” she said, and so I turned around yet again.

We didn’t even make it back to the point where we turned around the first time and now Olivia was telling me that she wanted to go home because she was tired. AAHHHHH! Olivia’s beseaching me to turn around woke Elise back up leaving us with 10 miles of screaming until we could get back to the car.

To make matters worse, I had to stop the bike about every 5 minutes or so because Elise would pull Olivia’s hair in her anger, or Olivia would steal Elise’s water bottle. Or who knows what else they managed to think of to make me have to stop. At one point I was walking down the trail holding a sobbing Elise, walking my bike, which was dragging the empty trailer and being followed by a sobbing Olivia.

What had been carefully planned to take only 90 minutes turned into 3 hours of riding around like a spectacle. I was pitied, glared at, gawked at, and only once did anyone offer to help me. Not like there was anything anyone could have done.

The only thing that I could say I liked about that whole ordeal was when we passed 3 pregnant moms and their spouses riding on bikes in the opposite direction and I could see the look of horror on all of their faces as they thought, “OH! What are we getting ourselves into?!” Other than that I almost swore off biking for life. If the trailer hadn’t cost $250 I might have.

We Lutherans live under a terrible burden of having to be right all the time.  We value purity above all things - purity of doctrine, of practice, of hymnody, of programs, of purpose.  Yet purity is never held out to the sinner-saint as an attainable goal.  It’s a forensic-given in Christ, and utterly impossible in ourselves.  If we claim to be “pure” in what we do, we will ever be on the defensive justifying ourselves against those who claim otherwise and constantly measuring ourselves against the next guy.  Defensiveness tends to bring out the worst of our sinful selves.  Defensiveness and fear open the door to the anger, strife, party spirit, and dissension that war against the fruit of the Spirit.

I believe that much of our Lutheran anxiety has to do with defensiveness and fear.  We want to present our denarius back to the Master pure and undefiled.  And so we don’t take risks, we play it safe, we hedge our bets, we hide behind the skirts of our institutions, we circle our wagons to ward off the challengers.  We wrap our shiny denarius in a sock and tuck it safely in the back of a drawer.  But the Master said, “Do business,” not “keep it pure.”  We are fearful and defensive, not trusting the Word to do His work, not trusting that God justifies the unjustifiable and ungodly, acting as though Jesus needed us to defend Him.  Poor Jesus.  And in our fear and unbelief, we stunt the fruit the Spirit wants to produce in us for the benefit of others.

My thoughts have run along the same lines as Cwirla’s critique lately, especially where he points out our common tendency to use treasured doctrines to defend ourselves from the work of the Spirit, rather than being worked on by the Spirit through them:

I worry about my fellow Lutheran pilgrims who have become so wrapped up in defending their “being Lutheran” that they have lost the sense of wonder and joy at being justified for Jesus’ sake.  I wonder whether we haven’t become the Ephesian church of the Revelation, doctrinally pure yet loveless, able to spot a heretical Nicolaitan from a mile away, yet flagging in the love that once characterized life together.

I wrote about about this in this post (shameless plug!), where I argued that:

The proper distinction of Law and Gospel is not a method for keeping God out of our lives, but for seeing how He has already gotten in. Even the finest doctrine, hermeneutic, or slogan can be misused to avoid vulnerability to the Word. The moment we’ve done so, we’ve turned a blessing to a curse.

In many ways, I see this misuse of God’s promises is one of the central struggles the people of God face. Look at Israel’s history in scripture: If they weren’t wrestling with absolute debauchery, they had become completely consumed with ticking a doctrinal checklist in order to save themselves. Sure, theirs may have consisted of a set of ritualistic rules, but how much does that really differ from our own list of requirements for right-standing with God? Scripture (and Jesus!) makes it clear that it wasn’t the Law that was Israel’s problem, but its misuse. I think the same goes for our catechisms, confessions, and liturgies. Properly used, they are blessings. Wrongly used, they are our own distinctly Lutheran brand of works-righteousness, and a litmus test for admission into our club. But if Israel was entrusted with the very oracles of God, as St. Paul says, how much more richly have we been gifted with the body and blood of Jesus in Word and Sacrament? That’s not something to be frightened over, it’s pleasure and joy, joy, joy.