First Things magazine. Numbers 1, 2, & 3 (March, April, & May 1990). . . . $3 each.
When a Jesuit friend of ours heard of the launching of Lutheran pastor Richard John Neuhauss First Things, he puzzled as to why a religious magazine would be called First Things would it zoom in on politics to the neglect of the Last Things, as in the Four Last Things?
In his inaugural editorial, Neuhaus tells us that politics is not the first thing, that religion points us to the last things, and that the first things are the last things. However confusing, we get the drift, and were encouraged. But we fear the ambiguity wont be dispelled until the magazine is renamed First & Last Things.
But whatever its name, First Things will perhaps be at pains to keep its theological dimension in focus, for, when it comes to religion, this politically conservative (or neoconservative) journal defines itself as unqualifiedly ecumenical. Neuhaus says that his writers, who will address the interaction of religion and public life, will include Christians, believing Jews, agnostics, and atheists. Maybe Neuhaus will be able to pull it off with theological integrity. Surely its worth a try, and surely Neuhaus has the agility and first-rate theological mind to make it work. Curiously though, this sweeping latitudinarianism would make even his bete noire, the National Council of Churches, blush. Perhaps symptomatic of the razors edge First Things will be walking is Neuhauss appreciative (and indeed touching) obituary for atheist/agnostic Sidney Hook, whose career of militant and proselytizing unbelief would make even Mikhail Gorbachev blush. While Sidney was utterly wrong about Jesus and God, apparently his aggressive neoconservatism was sufficient to put him on the side of the angels, so to speak.
Neuhaus is an imaginative thinker and playful impresario, and so were not surprised when he reports that not every article will be by a political conservative. The April issue carries a fascinating piece by Christopher Lasch pointing to the contradiction between cultural conservatism (which Lasch values) and corporate capitalism (which he doesnt). However, it is followed immediately by an equally long article by Jerry Z. Muller rebutting Lasch and holding high the banner of conservative/capitalist orthodoxy. So, politico-economic heresy and apostasy will apparently be on short leashes (First Things has been heavily funded by several right-wing foundations, and this is no doubt the way theyd want it to be).
These caveats aside, First Things is a handsome, impressive, and formidable intellectual phenomenon. It is stimulating yet sober, and not entirely predictable. With collaborators like Peter Berger, Stanley Hauerwas, James Burtchaell, Jean Bethke Elshtain, Carl F.H. Henry, Leonid Kishkovsky, and Paul Seabury, it will certainly spark heady debate. We hope First Things will have a long life and bear much good fruit, and we wish its editors and writers a happy issue when they, like all the rest of us, must face the Four Last Things.
The Day Christ Was Born. By Jim Bishop. Harper & Row. 107 pages. $6.95.
The story never palls for Christians: the birth of Christ narrated here by Jim Bishop in a book first published 30 years ago and now reissued. Christians often dwell earnestly upon the death and resurrection of Christ, relegating celebration of that shattering event, the Incarnation God become man to one fleeting and hectic season of the year. It is almost as if they believe that Christ was born solely to die. They ignore a sublime consequence of the Incarnation: By taking flesh, God reaffirmed the goodness of creation.
In the homely details of his narrative, Bishop accents the humanity and humbleness of all the players in this cosmic drama. Awestruck by the angels announcement, Mary responds with expected trepidation: Her hands began to shake. Why should she, a little country girl be blessed beyond all women? Joseph, rejoicing in the birth of new life, suddenly recalls that this is the one of whom the angels spoke. He dropped to his knees beside the manger.
The story is poignantly funny in many ways. It does not scandalize heaven to laugh. This is, after all, the most divine of all comedies, and any mother or father knows what droll little creatures babies are. The shepherds, themselves scorned as riffraff by the local population, grumble that it is so undignified for the Son of God to be born in a stable. The magi shake their heads in bewilderment. Balthasar pointed out that there was much evidence that the One God acts in ways mysterious to man, and that there must be a reason a reason which escaped them for having the All Highest born of unknown people in a stall for animals. We are too solemn in the face of this breathtaking event. God become an infant in a stable: It is funny. It also turned the world upside down or, rather, right side up.
Acts of Recovery: Essays on Culture and Politics. By Jeffrey Hart. University Press of New England. 242 pages. $19.95.
Although Jeffrey Hart has made his mark as a member of National Reviews merry band of fulminators and polemicizers, he is also, as these essays demonstrate, a gifted and thoughtful cultural and literary critic. These essays embrace a rich diversity of topics everything from the 17th-century poet George Herbert, to lucubrations on pornography; from Dr. Johnson and Boswell to the Blooming of the American mind; from Belloc and Chesterton to pointers on how to survive in the cloud-cuckoo-land of the academy.
In the Preface Hart pays tribute to Lionel Trilling, his former mentor and, for Hart, the exemplary cultural critic. The critic lives as intensely as possible the life of his times, Hart contends, taking if necessary the predictable risks in making individual judgments, in all areas. The critics writings deal, therefore, not solely with literature but with a wide range of subjects, the whole necessarily unified by the critics own judgment and informed point of view.
At a time when many literary critics itch to form an esoteric cult, it eases the mind to recall that wiser and older tradition, which Hart traces from Samuel Johnson to Trilling, with such intervening figures as Hazlitt, Arnold, Chesterton, Eliot, and Edmund Wilson. In this approach, the critics work remains essentially sociable and accessible and therefore likely to be rooted in journalism, a sign of its involvement in both the larger and commoner concerns of the world. Such critics are as scarce today in the universities as a vegetarian at an Alabama hog roast, but even under the most vexatious conditions the grand tradition, embodied here in Acts of Recovery, endures.
Autobiographical Reflections. By Eric Voegelin. Louisiana State University Press. 123 pages. $16.95.
In these engaging recollections and musings (tape-recorded by Ellis Sandoz in 1973 and later edited by him for publication), Eric Voegelin provides a glimpse at the human presence behind the intimidatingly erudite and occasionally impenetrable books he published between the 1920s and his death in 1985. Given the ponderous and clotted prose he favored, Voegelin unexpectedly exhibits a talent for turning a neat phrase, as when he remarks that ideologies are not science, and ideals are no substitute for ethics.
He discards the niceties of scholarly discourse to disclose a penchant for invective, lambasting his critics as ignoramuses and thwacking Karl Marx as an intellectual swindler.
Voegelin evinces a marked sense of humor and an ear for a good story. Having fled to Switzerland in 1938, to escape the Nazi seizure of Austria, he applied at the American consulate in Zurich for a visa to enter the U.S. The consular official, a very nice Harvard boy, took a dim view of the refugees application. He explained, Voegelin recalls, that, since I was neither a Communist nor a Catholic nor a Jew, I therefore had no reason whatsoever not to be in favor of National Socialism and to be a National Socialist myself. Hence, if I was in flight the only reason must be some criminal record . Relishing the drolleries and small absurdities of life, Voegelin chortles that, I have in my files documents labeling me a Communist, a Fascist, a National Socialist, an old Liberal, a new Liberal, a Jew, a Catholic, a Protestant, a Platonist, a neo-Augustinian, a Thomist, and of course a Hegelian not to forget that I was supposedly strongly influenced by Huey Long.
These autobiographical nuggets, combined with Voegelins ruminations on his work as a philosopher and his pointed observations on the philosophers vocation, support Sandozs claim that the Reflections provides the best possible introduction to the person and thought of Eric Voegelin.