On Switching Angels

Do not turn my heart to any evil,
to busy myself with wicked deeds
in company with those who work iniquity;
do not let me eat of their delicacies. (Psalm 141)

My Lectio Devina this morning recalled for me last night's news coverage about the Oiler victory "celebrations" on Whyte avenue.

If you tuned in, you saw images of, well, common idiocy. You saw guys under the spell of the mob-angel, fueled by too much alcohol, do what comes natural under those conditions. You saw thousands of other people who would normally call down or report such vandalism, or at least leave the scene, which would dissipate the power of the mob-angel, instead stand by and cheer. An action that makes them as complicit as the trashers and maulers.

Actually in principle, this event is not unlike a civic, or political, or religious rally. When given the chance, the mob-angel–or the "irrational collective spirit"–operates the same way at every such gathering, in every venue. It uses a point of common identification, or invents one. It then produces a common enemy, or a fear, or a cause, or an appeal to nationalism or civic pride, in whatever form. Then, having laid the ground work it strikes the match–Der Fuhrer speaks or the Oilers win–and the thing explodes. The type and size of the explosion and the type and size of the mob-angel, is of course dependant upon the elements involved. Nuremberg is a long way from Whyte Ave., but the "giest" at work is of the same nature.

And what of our involvement? Our susceptibility of, and our contribution to the mob-angel depends on the strength and quality of our desires. It is because we don't know what we desire and because our desires are weak and often contradictory that we are susceptible to the social-dictates of the herd.

Our mothers always warned us of the corrupting influence of "bad company". But a warning is not really what we need. We need to reorient, deepen, and make simple, our desires. And the only way this happens is through imitation of one who loves us and has good desires for us.

Allow me a bit of a paraphrase. Do not be conformed to the desires of this world, but be transformed, by the renewing of your minds, in imitation of Christ, so that you may discern what is good and acceptable. (Romans 12)

Pardon the double negative but…we do not get to not serve something, however we usually do get to choose who and what we serve.

In imitation of Christ there is detoxification, allowing our desires to be redefined. Mind renewal allows us to switch angels; from having our actions scripted by the mob-angel to becoming willing captives of the Peace-angel.

Devine Geography

…who by understanding made the heavens,
for his steadfast love endures forever;
who spread out the earth on the waters,
for his steadfast love endures forever;
who made the great lights,
for his steadfast love endures forever. (Psalm 136)

Today my wife and I had an opportunity to be serenaded by birds, squirrels, and a few dogs in the distance.

We watched a downy woodpecker scamper up a tree quick as sound and tap out a few drum roles.

I lit a fire and burnt some dead-fall as well as some pruning's. We watched it die down to where the coals came alive and flashed orange and peach-pink.

Overhead, aspen leaves shimmied and high spruce boughs swayed.

There is something reverent about time spent with trees. We lose touch with the earth to our detriment, physical and psychological detriment. Perhaps we even lose touch with a dimension of God. The God who shows us steadfast love through the things God created.

Jubilant City Spirit

It's a curious phenomenon how a sports team can bring a city together. Well, "together" with qualifications.

Still, driving home tonight from my son's place on the north side of Edmonton, it seemed like the whole city was leaning on its horn in congenial exultation.

I know this can turn sour with the emergence of the irrational collective spirit, and things get silly crazy–especially over on Whyte. I overheard a conversation by a couple police officers telling some people at the Tokyo Express the other day, how they prefer to see the Oilers lose.

But this aside, as we were driving down 97th Street and then along 104th Ave, seeing groups of people waving flags, leaping and cheering, and car horns blaring, strangers high-fiving…the city felt jubilantly friendly.

If only we could find a spirit that could keep us like this all the time.

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It's truly disappointing that Mark Dever only mentions in passing, and so easily dismisses the work of Rene Girard. If he would but scratch the surface of this anthropologists thinking he would understand that the language of sacrificial atonement serves not to promote but to undermine and expose our ways of running culture through sacrifice.