Without Churchill, the Third Reich conquers all of Europe. The United States, if we survive at all, endures a state of perpetual siege–unless our own leaders, as so many of Britain’s were willing to do, enter into some kind of “understanding” with the Nazis.
Liberty is fragile. It’s at odds with Original Sin. Only by God’s providence do we have it; only by His providence do we keep it. There’s always someone lusting to take it away from us.
Remember that freedom is the gift of God, and no one has the right to take it from us.
We’ve just had ten minutes of the most ferocious wind and rain we’ve seen since Hurricane Sandy. My sister, Alice, thought her neighborhood was in for a tornado. The gales seemed to spring up out of nowhere, the cats ran upstairs and under the bed, and by the time I got all the hatches battened down, it was over. And Alice called to see if we were all right.
We are–but it was a close call. The wind was strong enough to snap off the top half of a very big sycamore tree and hurl it to the sidewalk. By God’s providence, it didn’t take down the power lines with it: hard to believe how that could be, when you look at it. I don’t know how we’d take a power failure on top of a quarantine. All we’re lacking is army ants.
It also somehow missed all the parked cars, not to mention pedestrians. I call that a miracle.
Keep your eyes peeled: Someone, somewhere, seems to be expecting the China Wuhan Communist Death Virus to be in retreat sooner than we think. I say that because I’ve noticed Climbit Chainge chatter is starting up again. Yeah, they’re re-heating it: gotta keep the peasants scared, only way to control ’em.
Is it just me saying this, or do we need a new ruling class?
In this 2014 Chalcedon magazine article, I traced some of the many steps of God’s providence by which I came to write my Bell Mountain novels. It started with a young R.J. Rushdoony reading Cornelius Van Til, and starting a correspondence with him–while I was still, literally, in knee-pants.
(This Chalcedon editorial appeared Sept. 7, 2019.)
One of R.J. Rushdoony’s more controversial assertions was that humanism is busy killing itself, and slated for extinction. He then went on to ask what that requires us, as subjects of the Kingdom of God, to do. That question’s still here, right in front of us.
Because they’re running wild, heaping up wealth and power, and generally trashing our whole civilization, it’s easy to wind up thinking Christ’s enemies are winning. But everything they, er, “achieve” hurts them even more than it hurts us. Homosexual parodies of marriage, transgenderism, and, only lately, a dalliance with the prospect of wholesale cannibalism–these are not winning game plans. They think they’re on the path to creating a global government. But all they’re creating is chaos–and in the end, they’ll choke on it.
Yes, they look like Goliath, and they scare us. But remember what happened to Goliath.
Eschatology, he says, has got to be “our ‘big picture’ of where history is going.” And we find that information in God’s word.
For God’s providence is never turned off, He is never not on duty. He will do all the things He has said He will do, and we who are His people are, by His loving grace, a part of that. We are not orphans: we have a Father. And a place in Christ’s Kingdom.
One of the hardest lessons for us to learn, in such an evil and confusing age as this, is how to walk by faith and not by sight: because if we walk only by sight, most of what we see is bad. Mark Rushdoony discussed this in his blog post yesterday.
The Book of Esther, in which the name of God does not appear, shows how God governs history, intervening at need. Our God created us with free will and respects it, even when our will is bent to evil: but he will not let evil prosper in the long run. As Isaiah said, “No weapon formed against thee shall prosper” (Is. 54:17).
How many times would God’s people have been wiped off the face of the earth, had He not intervened? As history, the Bible offers many examples of this truth.
I thought we could use another belt of this today.
Around the year 800, Christian England was overrun by pagans, most of them from Denmark. It was the Viking Age. They came for loot and plunder, leaving a trail of death and destruction in their wake.
By the providence of God, Alfred, King of Wessex, overcame many defeats–one of which left him a hunted fugitive in his own land–and finally won the war. The Christians won not only peace and security: the invaders converted, settled down, and became part of the population.
We seem to be entering such a time of trial in our own day. The difference is that our heathen are home-grown, turned against us by our schools and colleges. They hate their own country and want to subject it to a “fundamental transformation”–into what, God only knows.
Defeat them and convert them. Trust in the Lord and hang tough. And, like Alfred, never give up.
This is a Thracian “peltast,” a lightly armored warrior. Alexander the Great used peltasts to guard the flanks of his heavily armored phalanx. And Herodotus, writing a generation or two before Alexander, called the Thracians the second most populous nation in the world, outnumbered only by the Indians.
“Thrace” consisted of parts of northern Greece, most of modern Bulgaria, all of Turkey-in-Europe, and bits of Rumania. The Romans conquered it and made it a province: the most famous Thracian was Spartacus, the gladiator and revolutionary. Greeks, Macedonians, and Romans had Thracian warriors in their armies.
But for all their numbers, their wealth in natural resources, their craftsmanship (Thracian art objects were always in demand), and their skill and bravery in war, there is no more Thrace today, and no more Thracians. Oh, their DNA is still around, mixed in with everybody else’s–Greeks, Slavs, Turks, Bulgars, et al–but there’s no more Thracian language, culture, or polity. The ancient Thracians never got serious about setting up a state, and made only half-hearted efforts to keep a kingdom going. Maybe if they had, for the sake of self-defense, set up a king, they might have lasted longer. Or maybe not.
The point is: here was a considerable people, a populous nation, well-known throughout the ancient world, a nation that persisted for some thousand years–and it’s gone. Historians aren’t even sure how it came to disappear. It seems to have been a gradual process. Eventually we look for Thracians in the historical record, and they aren’t there anymore.
Nations require preserving. They don’t live on inertia. Where are all the nations that used to interact with Israel? Israel is still here, and has been all along. Moab, Ammon, Edom, the Philistines, Elam, Babylon, the Assyrian Empire, and the Roman Empire–they were richer and stronger and greater than Israel, but they’re gone.
If there is to be a United States of America two hundred years from now–and not just a space on a map bearing the name but nothing of the character–it will only be by God’s providence and mercy: which we would be well-advised to seek at all times, to humble ourselves before Him and stop trying to provoke Him to anger.