Farenheit 815 (Parody of ECUSA, apologies to Ray Bradbury)

“Have you ever tasted the rain before?” Clarisse interrupted, as she stopped abruptly at the street corner. The clouds above had darkened threateningly, and the first few drops of rain had begun to stain the sidewalk. “Sometimes I like to tip my head back, open my mouth and let it fill with the glorious rain!”

By now Rev. Montag had become accustomed to Clarisse’s tangents, as strange and wonderful as they were. “You were asking about priests…”

“Yes, of course, I’m sorry,” Clarisse apologized, shaking herself out of her momentary wistfulness. “You know, I heard once that priests actually spoke about Jesus and evangelized people, and not this pagan stuff…”

“Silly girl!” laughed Rev. Montag. “No, no, in this un-diocese we do not evangelize people, we devangelize people!”

“Oh, yes. It really is a wonderful thing!” enthused Rev. Montag, pulling his copy of Introduction to Wicca, purchased from the Episcopal un-Church’s official online bookstore, from his bag. “See, in the un-Church, we believe that since human beings wrote scripture, we can re-write it as well. So, the really bad thing is when people actually believe the scriptures, not when they reject them.”

“Shouldn’t a Christian church teach people about Christ?” Clarisse offered. “I mean, his atonement for our sins, and…”

“It’s that very blood-atonement language that we reject here in the un-Diocese of Pennsylvania, Clarisse. Just listen to the advice of our anti-Bishop, the Left Rev. Nosinneb. He says we should stop talking about blood and sin, and then the church would be in better shape.”

“But the church isn’t growing, it’s shrinking! Fewer and fewer people are coming to church these days!” Clarisse cried.

“Everything comes down to church growth for you people, doesn’t it!” Rev. Montag argued. “Growth isn’t the important thing.”

“That the church is shrinking is good news! You can be spiritual without being religious, you know. You don’t even need to be Christian! We’ve got Buddhists, Muslims, Druids, and even a Zoroastrian as priests here in the un-Diocese of Pennsylvania, and they don’t even believe that Christ was divine!”

“Oh, no!” said Rev. Montag. “In this diocese we discipline orthodox priests, not the druid-priests!”

The quiet and distant tapping of the rain suddenly accelerated. In a moment, the air was filled with thousands of drops of falling rain. Clarisse looked down the street, to her home.

“I think you’d better go on home, Clarisse,” Rev. Montag suggested, offering her his umbrella.

“No thank you,” Clarissa smiled brightly. “I rather like the rain.” And with that, she strolled off delightedly, without care or concern, down the street, along the white fence and beyond the yew tree, where she disappeared from view.

Rev. Montag looked up at the rain, briefly considering tilting his head back and allowing himself a brief taste of the falling rain. Did it really taste like wine? he thought. But his common sense got the better of him, and in a swift motion he lifted his umbrella, opened it, and walked briskly down the sidewalk toward home.

When Puzzle and I originally came up with this idea of using Fahrenheit 451 to parody the recent pagan rite scandal in the Episcopal Church, we both thought it would be funny. But this weekend I went back and re-read Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451. It’s not funny. And neither is what I wrote, above. And so I apologize for trying to do to Bradbury’s work what Michael Moore also did in his Riefenstahl-esqe Fahrenheit 9/11. It was a sin against art, if not a sin against God, and for that I offer an apology to Bradbury.

Strangely enough, however, being prompted to re-examine Bradbury’s work turned out to be a useful endeavor. I was unexpectedly struck by Bradbury’s scene where the fireman Guy Montag and his crew have doused a woman’s house in kerosene, and are trying to remove her from the premises before her house—and the books within—are burned to the ground. She quotes Hugh Latimer’s last words to Nicholas Ridley, as they were about to be burned at the stake on October 16, 1555: “Be of good cheer, Master Ridley, and play the man, for we shall this day light such a candle in England as I trust by God’s grace shall never be put out.” Then she ignites the fire, burning herself, her home and her books.

The words she spoke were not lost on Montag, and they weren’t lost on me either. I believe I sat for a full five minutes in my chair, conflicted and convicted. How much are we ready to leave behind as we stand for the faith once delivered to the saints? Are we willing to be burned, as Latimer and Ridley were, for their faith?

Bradbury notes in his epilogue to Fahrenheit 451, there is more than one way to burn a book. He noted the supreme irony of those who censored the “damn”s and “hell”s from his own book—itself a treatise on censorship—to make them acceptable for school reading, and those who deleted all the “adjectives that count” from the classics to fit them into condensed versions for easy consumption. Yes, there is more way than one to burn a book.

And then I thought of the clever omissions from the liturgy, and creative elision of troublesome passages from the scriptures in the lectionary. The rejections of basic Christian teachings, done with both increasing frequency and volume in the Episcopal Church. The willingness of some to discipline the orthodox while refusing to discipline heresy. I suppose it is just as true that there is also more than one way to burn faithful Christians.

Granted, I doubt many Christians here in the West will be asked to give what Latimer and Ridley, and, six months later, Thomas Cranmer, were asked to give. But I know far too many Christians around the world who are indeed asked to give that much and more. Are we willing, as the woman was in Fahrenheit 451, to sacrifice ourselves, our homes, and our books for the truth? To be a witness? Are we willing to leave our churches behind, and the walls of wealth that we have built in the West to keep out the storms of a sacrificial faith?

It is, perhaps, too easy for me, a Western Christian who has suffered little or nothing for his faith, to romanticize the suffering of the faithful. I would prefer, of course, that our Christian brothers and sisters suffering around the world did not have to do so. Even so, I must wonder whether the inoffensive Christianity we live out here in the West is enough. Should we desire, in the words of Brian Walsh, a more “subversive Christianity”? One that puts us more at risk? One that uses the cultural, political, and material capital we have been blessed with so much in the West, rather than sitting on it like a decadent dragon guarding its hoard?

And what does this all have to do with paganism in the Episcopal Church? Everything. The true risk Christians should take is not one which allows such syncretistic innovations to continue (which, in our culture, is no risk at all), but the risk of reasserting in clear terms our faith in Jesus Christ. Might this require, in the context of our own churches, risks to our church buildings? Yes. Pensions and salaries? Yes. Political and cultural influence? Yes.

The problem with the Episcopal Church is that it is too much like Guy Montag—a Guy Montag who (unlike in Bradbury’s tale) never tipped his head back to drink the rain. Like too many of those who go along with the culture uncritically, never stopping to think that the tide of culture may sweep us all past the safe harbors and into dangerous shoals. The Christianity of the Episcopal Church, however daring it might seem to be in embracing pagan spirituality, is really only cowardly parroting the cultural trends of the times. And one day, if the church refuses to stand against it, will find itself drawn further down stream to who knows what end.

Tempted as Latimer and Ridley might have been (and certainly as Cranmer was), they did not allow themselves and their principles be swept aside. My question for us all, is, will we allow ourselves to be swept aside?

There is indeed little daring in embracing a cultural trend and the fashion. What little there is does not rise to more than the petty rebellion of the self-involved adolescent and really answers little more than the personal self-aggrandization such internalization reveals.

I saw a cartoon recently showing 'Larry King' interviewing 'William Buckley' where 'Larry' asks him his greatest regret now he's retiring. 'Buckley' responds 'the infantilization of language'. 'You mean, ca ca and doo doo talk?' 'Larry' responds. To this there is no answer short of a slap but I too am fed up with highly articulate infantile talk. It is truly appalling to read someone throughly examine a pointless and destructive topic with $1 words that only prove the writer can contrive coined language from the roots of language to support what cannot bear simple statement.

So, I simply turn aside from such folk. Their premises are flawed, so unavoidably so will any thought or conclusion they try to draw be. I may try to point to the flaw in the premise, but the most I ever get is that I am being unrealistic (they say) and don't appreciate nuance. It's really a cruel joke because the concept I try to answer with came up by invention. A Wiccan named Robert Anton Wilson invented the 'fnord', the word in texts that people are trained to always consciously ignore but to always preconsciously internalize. The idea was that the 'fnord' would then work on the person to drive them to goals the society wants without having to obtain conscious assent. This would make the citizens subjects partly insane but also more pliable and useable. The concept was then plied to suggest that support for the war in Vietnam was foolish, for instance, or that abstinence from sex before marriage was overly fearful. You see where the idea would go.

Where it really went was to undermine any support for sensible religion or politics and has now produced a cadre in society partly insane and unable to ever examine their own premises or beliefs while simultaneously being convinced that they are the only social critics who actually DO any examination. Part of the delusion is that they do not see that they are examining everyone else's premises and resolutely never their own. There would be a Scripture verse about that, one remarks, snidely.

So, in a sense, I have stood aside and joined an Anglican communion of sure faith and proven Apostolicity. I would love to be able to help lead a crusade to re-evangelize the Episcopal Church. Part of the parody above is to note that it may well be a Screwtape plot to deflate the Church from within, ratcheting up the 'religiosity' while evacuating any real meaning from within. People don't long remain deluded about empty ritual, any more than they are confused by empty political rhetoric. So the pews empty. Sadly, they do not know where to go and so go away altogether. What I want to see is confident witness by the Fathers of the continuing Church.

But, I know what is preventing that: the Continuing Church is actually a congeries of competing churches, many more or less orthodox, but mutually antagonistic for any number of reasons, some of them reasonable. It's hard to assert authority with so many Pope-lets running about asserting vagante authority and confusing themselves and everyone else.

I think that's what we should all be praying for: that the Holy Spirit infuse us with the gift of prophecy.

In Christ,
-==Beleg==-+

Very good post. What you are saying is, effectively, don't wrestle in the mud with pigs? The pigs will enjoy it; and you'll just end up muddied? :)

In re Michael Moore's stuff. Years ago, having read his articles, I discovered he was just cockin a snook at EVERYONE. I learned a lot from past Talk Shock Jock: Alex Bennett (radio, San Francisco) - he was insulting to everyone, equally. :) But what made him adorable and funny was -- we all knew he was doing it for show. M Moore, OTOH, takes himself seriously. I guess he hasn't figured out maturity, yet. When he does, he could be rich and hilarious. As it is, in another way, he's rich and hilarious now offa takings from his cult followers who believe his ca-ca. There's no laugh at each other, no humanity in the Moore movement.

The fact that he tells such fabricated, non-substantiated lies is only part of what bothers consciously minded people -- the royal burn is -- he's hoodwinking many. In his own way, he's a modern day Elmer Gantry pulling a fast one.

Yes, I admit I'm one of those who's breath has never been altered by anything M Moore has to say. You know why?

I have him in the same commentary non-factual "columnist/psuedo-journalist league as Emil Guillermo.

Lastly, I categorized his "Fahrenheit 911" *(and now his newer film) -- as simply another "War of the Worlds" - just another "theatre" stunt..

M Moore thinks he's competing with Orson Welles.

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