Ultimate
A little shout-out for my favorite sport: Ultimate was #1 on Sportscenter’s top 10 plays today! Check it out!
A little shout-out for my favorite sport: Ultimate was #1 on Sportscenter’s top 10 plays today! Check it out!
I have added two tickers to my widgets.
Don’t we all?
Check them out beneath my Feedburner count widget on the right side of the home page, and pray for me if you would. I want my dissertation to be a benefit, however small, to the church. At least my own.
Stanley Fish, in Why Can’t We All Just Get Along?
If you persuade liberalism that its dismissive marginalizing of religious discourse is a violation of its own chief principle, all you will gain is the right to sit down at liberalism’s table where before you were denied an invitation; but it will still be liberalism’s table that you are sitting at, and the etiquette of the conversation will still be hers. That is, someone will now turn and ask, “Well, what does religion have to say about this question?” And when, as often will be the case, religion’s answer is doctrinaire (what else could it be?), the moderator (a title deeply revealing) will nod politely and turn to someone who is presumed to be more reasonable.
This is why if evangelical Christians ever find themselves with a public voice, they should look to use it to repeat what God says about the nation’s sins instead of listing horizontal, sociological effects that anyone at the table can potentially agree on. Christian reasoning on the most important points is ultimately doctrinaire. Who else will tell the world God’s doctrines?
I thought Gordon Fee’s comments on 1 Corinthians 7:25-28 were apt:
One of the unfortunate things that has happened to this text in the church is that the very pastoral concern of Paul that caused him to express himself in this way has been a source of anxiety rather than comfort. Part of the reason for this is that in Western cultures we do not generally live in a time of “present distress.” Thus we fail to sense the kind of care that this text represents. Beyond that, what is often heard is that Paul prefers singleness to marriage, which he does. But quite in contrast to Paul’s own position over against the Corinthians, we often read into that preference that singleness is somehow a superior status. That causes some who do not wish to remain single to become anxious about God’s will in their lives. Such people need to hear it again: Marriage or singleness per se lie totally outside the category of “commandments” to be obeyed or “sin” if one indulges; and Paul’s preference here is not predicated on “spiritual” grounds but on pastoral concern. It is perfectly all right to marry.
Unfortunately, our reading of the text in this way cuts in two ways. Our culture, especially Christian subculture, tends to think of marriage as the norm in such a way that singles are second-class citizens. For such people this text is merely “Paul’s opinion,” and is seldom listened to at all. That, too, misses Paul’s point. Some are called to singleness still; they need to be able to live in the Christian community both without suspicions and with full acceptance and affirmation.
Gordon D. Fee, The First Epistle to the Corinthians, The New International Commentary on the New Testament, 334 (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1987).
“Liberalism very much wants to believe that it is being fair to religion, but what it calls fairness amounts to cutting religion down to liberal size.”
. . . .
“The conflict between the liberal state, with its devotion to procedural rather than substantive norms, and religion, which is all substance from its doctrines to its procedures, is intractable.”
In other words, liberal democracy and religion, specifically Christianity, cannot coexist when one says “treat everyone the same—because we said so!” and the other says “God doesn’t treat everyone the same!”
American Christians are right to celebrate their heritage of religious freedom, because in a fallen world people will not all agree and God hasn’t given man coercive authority over other people’s beliefs. But no political system can solve all the problems created when some people believe what is false and others by God’s grace don’t. And in our fallen world, most people will fall into the first category.
“Apart from God, one can pursue truth and beauty, but at some point, one must cross the bridge to the Faith to complete the journey.”
—My old boss, summarizing a theologian I cannot remember
Jonathan Swift, Jacobs says, looked for “some method . . . for ascertaining and fixing our language for ever.”
Jacobs comments:
This is a recurrent theme among linguistic academicians and their allies: a deep conviction that the dominant usage of their own time—or, more precisely, the usage into which they were educated, the usage of their youth and young adulthood—is a pure or ideal form of the language, any deviation from which marks a decline.
Language is a living entity. You can’t force it to stay the same anymore than I keep my baby from growing.
Such a comment, of course, calls for a baby picture.
I have a few readers at BJU Press. I encourage you, especially, to process all four posts in my Bible Integration series. I feel safe doing so because the core levels material is not original with me (though anything extra is not necessarily endorsed by the Press) but with our BI guys! Bible Integration is a Mandate Priority at BJU Press, and no matter what department you’re in, you should have a basic idea of what it means.
Bible Integration is what sets us apart. I’m convinced that whoever those people are above me who make decisions, they made a good one when they made BI one of the pillars of BJU Press. Why else would anyone be involved in Christian education?
I keep insisting to my wife that I’m not a real reader. I play at it. I pretend by force of will to be a reader. I wanna be one when I grow up. That’s all.
But there are those writers who turn me into a reader by their force of will, their skill and verve and depth. Alan Jacobs is one of those.
On his blog, Jacobs reveals his night-time identity as a word-processor control-freak who actually uses BBEdit to write everything because it gives him complete layout mastery.
But in his books—like The Narnian, Original Sin, and A Theology of Reading—and essays—like this new collection—Jacobs is an insightful prose master and illustrator. Yeah, illustrator, I think that’s it. He finds the best stories to tell, but they are there to make his points.
My all-time favorite is in Original Sin: A Cultural History. You have to read the one about the two-headed cow. It’s a striking and abiding illustration of total depravity (without in any way being defiling).
This excerpt from his new book is another good example. He tells a few stories from the field of lexicography—a field most people would consider the definition of dull. But everyone who reads his essay should come away knowing otherwise. Jacobs is a powerful ally in my quixotic battle against lexicographical prescriptivism.
Here’s an excerpt from the excerpt:
Twenty years before [the great Samuel] Johnson began his dictionary a lexicographer named Benjamin Martin wrote:
The pretence of fixing a standard to the purity and perfection of any language is utterly vain and impertinent, because no language as depending on arbitrary use and custom, can ever be permanently the same, but will always be in a mutable and fluctuating state; and what is deem’d polite and elegant in one age, may be counted uncouth and barbarous in another.
These words should make the epitaph of all Academies of language, and all forms of classicism as well — meaning by classicism what C. S. Lewis calls “the curious conception of the ‘classical’ period of a language, the correct or normative period before which all was immature or archaic and after which all was decadent.” . . . .
This is not to say that there are no excellences or barbarities in language. There are both, as Lewis well knew. But this grasping at past excellences as a means of preventing future barbarities is a mug’s game. To steal a line from William F. Buckley, Jr., there are certainly times to stand athwart history yelling Stop, but not in the Linguistic arena; yelling there is “utterly vain and impertinent.”
I like reading Stanley Fish’s posts at the New York Times, and he just came out with another one on the same theme he’s been hitting for a while.
So I came out with a comment on the same theme I always write on when I comment on Fish’s posts. Click here and then vote to recommend my post—if you like it. Perhaps a little bit of gospel truth will attract the attention of some readers.
The first three posts in this series discussed 1) the problems created in Christian education when the Bible is not soundly integrated into the curriculum, 2) Level 1 Bible Integration (BI) at BJU Press, and 3) Level 2 BI. Now on to Level 3!
Remembering the fallenness of man’s mind, identifying and calling into question the assumptions of an academic discipline.
Evangelical Christians as a whole, both Calvinists and Arminians, believe formally in original sin and total depravity. That is, all born-again Christians necessarily believe that the effects of the Fall have extended to every part of man. In actual practice, however, many Christians in the West assume along with the Enlightenment that their reason is pretty much trustworthy; they assign the effects of the Fall to their passions, mostly. That predisposed Christians to trust the conclusions of contemporary science.
This trust worked out okay in the West for a while because the academic disciplines were so heavily influenced by their Christian (broadly speaking) heritage. The Christian community had every reason to trust the assured results of modern scientific inquiry, because it knew that God’s general revelation in nature was just as true as His special revelation in Scripture. Christians operated on the assumption, What we see is true, because God is the author of both Scripture and nature, so the two will agree.
But especially with the advent of Darwin, the church suddenly found that religion and science did not agree. Somebody was wrong. The church had to reevaluate the role of reason: is it a fallible tool for accessing God’s infallible revelation, or is it the final arbiter of truth? The discipline of science was being ruled by the latter presupposition: What we see is true, whether it agrees with Scripture or not. (That assumption has morphed in our day to become What we see is true, and what we can’t see does not exist.)
Many Christians have lost their faith over this issue. Some are on their way. Those left standing firmly on Scripture’s final authority do not say that the discipline of science has discovered nothing true, nothing of value, only that it is now generally being ruled by anti-Christian presuppositions. It is right for Christians to call these assumptions into question.
Sanctifying the student’s thinking within a particular academic sphere.
God does have standards for how the academic disciplines ought to work. It’s not merely that they all ought to serve as means for glorifying Him, obeying the Creation Mandate, and loving our neighbors—though these alone will effect radical changes in any discipline. There are divine standards for beauty and order which are sometimes hard to pin down but nonetheless exist.
The highest levels of Bloom’s taxonomy are evaluate (Level 3a above) and create (Level 3b here). And I find that interesting from a wannabe theologian’s perspective. Creating is one of the capacities God gave us that makes us most like Him. If an entire academic discipline in the Western world is built on a faulty foundation, we have the responsibility to do our own work on a biblical foundation. That means we are rebuilding the discipline, even if no non-Christians join us.
Christians have more in the Bible than a sourcebook for classroom illustrations. They can even do more than worship and serve God through their academic disciplines. They can evaluate and then rebuild (restore? redeem?) their disciplines.
I am not a theonomic postmillennialist. I do not believe that our efforts will usher in the kingdom or that lost people will ever truly acknowledge Christ’s rule of their disciplines until they are born again from above.
But every Christian is going to practice his discipline according to some principles and standards. He might as well follow God’s norms in Scripture and nature rather than fallen human presuppositions. If he does that, he will be remaking his field. He won’t be able to help it.
One example has really helped me here. Whether America was ever a Christian nation or not—whatever that means—it isn’t now. I don’t believe that Christians should replace the Great Commission with the Great Push for the Vote. The best kind of change happens not from the top-down but from the grass roots up: one fallen human heart at a time. But what if a politician gets saved? How will you disciple him, and what will you tell him to do in his job? What if he tells you that he thinks politics isn’t holy enough, that it’s a waste of time, and that he thinks he ought to go into the pastorate?
There has to be a wise, Christian, God-glorifying way to politic, just like there has to be do everything Christianly in a world Christ rules. As the great Dutch theologian/statesman Abraham Kuyper famously said, "There is not a square inch in the whole domain of our human existence over which Christ, who is Sovereign over all, does not cry: ‘Mine!’"
The first two posts in this series discussed 1) the problems created in Christian education when the Bible is not soundly integrated into the curriculum and 2) Level 1 Bible Integration (BI) at BJU Press. Now on to level 2!
If most readers of this blog are like I was, they will be a little nonplussed—maybe worse—by the moniker “Creation Mandate.” Sounds like those people who want the church to take over the U.S. government and execute all the Democrats.
I doubt you’ll find anyone who actually espouses that position (maybe just some of the Democrats and a few compromising Republicans), and it’s certainly not an accurate depiction of the Bible’s teaching. The Bible is clear about the importance and continuing validity of the Creation Mandate. It’s in the very first chapter of Scripture for all to see!
Then God said, “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. And let them have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over the livestock and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.”
So God created man in his own image,
in the image of God he created him;
male and female he created them.And God blessed them. And God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth.” (Gen. 1:26-28)
I’ve written about this before. Suffice it to say that 1) the Great Commission does not abrogate or even conflict with the Creation Mandate (or vice versa) and 2) as soon as you start trying to obey the latter you start running into the academic disciplines. And if you add in the simple but sweeping Second Great Commandment—“love your neighbor as yourself” (Lev. 19:18)—you have an additional major reason to engage in wise dominion.
But obeying the Second Great Commandment can never be an end in itself, because there is one mandate that supersedes it: “Love the Lord with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength.” Every academic discipline is a means for worshiping and glorifying God directly.
There are some real issues of eschatology which I have completely papered over in this section, but for most people it should be enough to read—to really read—God’s original and abiding purpose for mankind on earth in Genesis 1. There’s much more to our lives than obeying the Creation Mandate, but nothing less. For me this is an issue of biblical obedience. It would be as wrong for me to disobey the Creation Mandate as it would to ignore the Great Commission.
Plus, I find that Matthew 28:19-20 can’t bear the weight of the academic disciplines. If the only reason I am here on earth is to evangelize, why bother with any school past the age when I can share the gospel and make a living to support my gospel work? And if the only justification for sitting through Art History class is the potential that I might witness to an art buff sitting next to me on a plane, are my many class-hours staring at details from Fra Angelico really worthwhile? Exactly how many art facts do I need to know to have intelligent discussion with my seatmate?
There’s got to be a better foundation for Christian academic study than providing evangelistic conversation starters.
"No man except for a blockhead ever wrote, except for money."
In my first post in this short series, I introduced the concept, not original to me, of Bible Integration “levels” in Christian education. At the end, I talked about “level 0,” where the Bible is not integrated into the academic disciplines at all but kept separate. This post will focus on the lowest level of Bible Integration (BI), one that is certainly necessary but often abused and overused.
Level 1 BI finds parallels between the Bible and the subject matter. Parallels are tricky, because it’s easy to find superficial ones, but level 1 done right is still worth doing. You just shouldn’t stop here.
Each level of BI is divided into two sub-levels. The divisions are not divinely inspired. Like Bloom’s taxonomy, the whole schema should probably undergo a revision after Christian educators put it to use for a few years (in fact, one of the original authors has done just that—but he he ended up creating a brand new system, and I think it complements rather than supersedes the levels). But these divisions have proven helpful in many, many K-12 circumstances at BJU Press.*
Level 1b is so important for Bible study because recognizing literary devices and genres in the Bible is an absolutely crucial step in interpretation. But I was reading a Christian literature textbook for 10th graders recently which enshrined this form of BI above all others, and it got old quickly. The book was not content to show examples of metonymy and synecdoche in Scripture, a helpful exercise, but actually argued that the literary features of the Bible constitute the paragon of literary excellence and the moral standard for how literature should be written. I’m positive that the Bible has much to say about writing, but I doubt that this is the right path to finding it. Saying so ignores serious questions about cultural differences and the nature of inspiration. Future posts will, I hope, bear this out.
Level 1 is necessary, perhaps especially Level 1b, but it often invites abuses and raises questions about the Bible and the academic disciplines that it can’t answer. Teachers and students need to go to higher levels. Stay tuned…
*I do not speak officially for my employer, but the basic levels material here has been presented many times in other formats at BJU Press.
**Almost all the pop music I hear comes from NPR stories, just so you know!
When I entered a Christian school in 1985, the movement it was part of was still young and full of excitement. The generation of teachers, principals, and pastors which began the several Christian schools I eventually attended was dedicated and deeply self-sacrificial. I praise their memory. And many of them are still around 30 years on.
But today, I gather (somewhat unscientifically), the picture is a little different. There are still thousands of Christian workers who are highly motivated, gladly spending all their energies on educating Christian young people, but some jadedness has set in, too.
Many Christian school grads—including a not insignificant percentage of my own small class—show little evidence that they spent 13 years memorizing Bible verses, attending weekly chapels, and using up their parents’ hard-earned money in a safe Christian environment that was supposed to guarantee their future holiness.
My good principal from my high school years was planning, last I knew, to write an Ed.D. dissertation on what the movement can do to keep those kids from dropping off the face of the church, but drop they have. Their Facebook pages tell the story.
Many schools have shut down; others are shrinking. Rumors of the movement’s death may be greatly exaggerated, but there are certainly signs of ill health.
There’s no silver bullet for the problems among Christian schools, because no human can regenerate another one. But I love this little phrase from Jonathan Edwards: “[God’s] grace is not to be limited, nor means to be neglected.” God can save the Christian school movement, and there are things we can do about it as His agents.
One of the main things we can do is make sure that Christian schools are truly Christian. That is, we can put the hard mental work into teaching all disciplines from a truly Christian perspective. The nomenclature in the biz is “Bible Integration.”
Integrating the Bible doesn’t mean taking what is perceived to be a secular subject and adding some Bible verses. When that happens, our poor students often end up memorizing Bible statements that have little truly to do with what they’re studying (and what verse do you choose for dodge-ball instruction in PE—perhaps the one about God “hurling a storm” against Jonah’s ship?).
No, Bible Integration starts from the other side; it starts with God’s divine Word. Bible Integration means finding out what the Bible really has to say about why we should study our world—and then working out the implications for the various academic disciplines.
Some years ago, a few educator-theologians at my employer, BJU Press, developed a tri-level schema by which we can evaluate the Bible Integration in our textbooks. The purpose of the schema is not to encourage teachers to spend all their time at the highest level; that would be impossible and undesirable. But, as with Bloom’s taxonomy, teachers who never lead their students away from the lowest levels are doing their students a disservice. They are not showing them how to “think Christianly.” They are also guilty of what Francis Schaeffer called the “Two-Story View,” dividing life into upper (spiritual) and lower (earthly) stories which have little to do with one another.
The levels are a way of gauging how well we are obeying God’s never-abrogated command to fill the earth, subdue it, and have dominion over it (Gen. 1:26-28). As soon as you start trying to obey that command, you run into the domains of culture and the academic disciplines. Are we prepared to say that God doesn’t care how we subdue, or that He doesn’t have any structures set up in creation which should guide our dominion? If Math and History—and Linguistics and Sociology and Geology and even the much-maligned field of Entomology—are just means to the end of making a living, not of obeying the God of the universe, they’re only worth what they pay.
The first level of Bible Integration is not a level, but Level 0 is all too common among Christian educators. It relegates the Bible to devotionals, prayer requests, and non-academic counseling. There are no clear connections between Bible statements and the academic matter at hand. The Bible is sealed in a separate tupperware and stacked ceremonially on top of the math, history, English, and science containers. The main difference between a school with no Bible Integration and the much larger and dirtier publicly-funded school down the street is the existence of Bible class.
Bible class, chapel, devotionals, and personal counseling are good things which have an important place in a Christian school helping parents train the whole person (I write Bible textbooks, so of course I believe this!). But surely we can do better than staple Bible verses onto a public school. Adding Bible class is not enough, nor is stressing character. There’s got to be more to a truly Christian view of education. The Bible has got to make a substantive difference in math class, or math class is not worth having.
Stay tuned for Level 1!
Three controversies are going on right now among people close to me. The only one in which I’m involved personally hardly deserves the title, but it could have deserved a worse one—mêlée, fracas, altercation—if the participants had not loved the Lord and one another.
During the years I had to write about controversy as part of my job, I made a habit of re-reading a letter John Newton wrote to a friend. This friend was about to engage in public debate over a doctrinal matter, and the letter is titled “On Controversy” in Newton’s works.
Here are a few excerpts from the piece that have stuck in my mind and heart over the years, starting with the one that I think of most often:
If you account [your opponent] a believer, though greatly mistaken in the subject of debate between you, . . . . in a little while you will meet in heaven; he will then be dearer to you than the nearest friend you have upon earth is to you now. Anticipate that period in your thoughts, and though you may find it necessary to oppose his errors, view him personally as a kindred soul, with whom you are to be happy in Christ forever.
. . . .
But if you look upon him as an unconverted person, in a state of enmity against God and his grace (a supposition which, without good evidence, you should be very unwilling to admit), he is a more proper object of your compassion than of your anger. Alas! “He knows not what he does.” But you know who has made you to differ. If God, in his sovereign pleasure, had so appointed, you might have been as he is now; and he, instead of you, might have been set for the defense of the gospel. You were both equally blind by nature. If you attend to this, you will not reproach or hate him, because the Lord has been pleased to open your eyes, and not his. Of all people who engage in controversy, we, who are called Calvinists, are most expressly bound by our own principles to the exercise of gentleness and moderation. If, indeed, they who differ from us have a power of changing themselves, if they can open their own eyes, and soften their own hearts, then we might with less inconsistency be offended at their obstinacy: but if we believe the very contrary to this, our part is, not to strive, but in meekness to instruct those who oppose as taught in 2 Timothy 2:25, “If peradventure God will give them repentance to the acknowledgment of the truth.”
. . . .
I readily believe that the leading points of Arminianism spring from and are nourished by the pride of the human heart; but I should be glad if the reverse were always true; and that to embrace what are called the Calvinistic doctrines was an infallible token of a humble mind. I think I have known some Arminians, that is, persons who for want of a clearer light, have been afraid of receiving the doctrines of free grace, who yet have given evidence that their hearts were in a degree humbled before the Lord. And I am afraid there are Calvinists, who, while they account it a proof of their humility, that they are willing in words to debase the creature and to give all the glory of salvation to the Lord, yet know not what manner of spirit they are of.
. . . .
It seems a laudable service to defend the faith once delivered to the saints; we are commanded to contend earnestly for it, and to convince gainsayers. If ever such defenses were seasonable and expedient they appear to be so in our own day, when errors abound on all sides and every truth of the gospel is either directly denied or grossly misrepresented. And yet we find but very few writers of controversy who have not been manifestly hurt by it. Either they grow in a sense of their own importance, or imbibe an angry, contentious spirit, or they insensibly withdraw their attention from those things that are the food and immediate support of the life of faith, and spend their time and strength upon matters that are at most but of a secondary value. This shows, that if the service is honorable, it is dangerous.
The New International Commentary was just added at my request to BJU’s Logos discount page.
It’s now $1200 for students and professors instead of $1600.
Of course, it pays to pre-pub, because it was once available for $1000.
JRR Tolkien, author of the Lord of the Rings, once commented that stories like his, at their best, serve as "a far-off gleam or echo of evangelium [the gospel] in the real world."
And one famous conversation in his epic tale, one I pull out and read every so often, illuminates his comment. The main characters, Frodo and Sam, sit on the brink of Doom contemplating their story:
"I don’t like anything here at all." said Frodo, "step or stone, breath or bone. Earth, air and water all seem accursed. But so our path is laid."
"Yes, that’s so," said Sam. "And we shouldn’t be here at all, if we’d known more about it before we started. But I suppose it’s often that way. The brave things in the old tales and songs, Mr. Frodo: adventures, as I used to call them. I used to think that they were things the wonderful folk of the stories went out and looked for, because they wanted them, because they were exciting and life was a bit dull, a kind of a sport, as you might say.
But that’s not the way of it with the tales that really mattered, or the ones that stay in the mind. Folk seem to have been just landed in them, usually—their paths were laid that way, as you put it…. I wonder what sort of a tale we’ve fallen into?"
"I wonder," said Frodo. "But I don’t know. And that’s the way of a real tale. Take any one that you’re fond of. You may know, or guess, what kind of a tale it is, happy-ending or sad-ending, but the people in it don’t know. And you don’t want them to."
"No, sir, of course not. Beren now, he never thought he was going to get that Silmaril from the Iron Crown in Thangorodrim, and yet he did, and that was a worse place and a blacker danger than ours. But that’s a long tale, of course, and goes on past the happiness and into grief and beyond it—and the Silmaril went on and came to Eärendil. And why, sir, I never thought of that before! We’ve got—and you’ve got some of the light of it in the star-glass that the Lady gave you! Why, to think of it, we’re in the same tale still! It’s going on. Don’t the great tales never end?"
"No, they never end as tales," said Frodo. "But the people in them come, and go when their part’s ended."
"The tales that really matter" never end. And that’s more true of the metanarrative told by the Bible than it is of any other story. That’s why enduring human tales like Tolkien’s can point to the gospel. The people who play their parts in God’s tale, from Adam to Hannah to Paul, have their "paths laid" by a divine storyteller.
And when all their adventures and ours are over, we will begin—in the words of Tolkien’s friend C. S. Lewis, the words that draw Lewis’ own famous Narnia tales to a close—“Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on forever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.”
How did the word “mercenary” get a metaphorical sense and a literal one?
It started in classical Latin, says the OED, long before English was a twinkle in the Celtic eye. Mercenarius back then could refer straightforwardly to a soldier paid to serve in another country’s army or, in an adjectival form, to someone who was doing something for money when he shouldn’t have (either shouldn’t have been doing the something or shouldn’t have been doing it for money).
But etymology is a funny thing. Mercenary in contemporary English basically has two senses, and I think in most people’s minds the literal sense predominates even if it didn’t come first in history. A mercenary to most is a soldier fighting not for country but for pay.
My impression is that the adjective, always pejorative (“Edward had mercenary reasons for marrying Eleanor”), in most people’s minds derives from that literal sense. But why? What’s so wrong with being a soldier for pay that its adjectival form would become only and ever a slight?
My humble guess is that people do see something intrinsically wrong with killing in war when you’re not doing it in self-defense. Another way of putting it: it isn’t worth giving your life for money, only for kith and kin. Someone who takes that risk is essentially elevating money to a level of importance it simply doesn’t deserve. A colonial American matriarch could comfort herself with the thought that her son’s blood bought freedom for his nation. But what were the Hessian mothers supposed to do?
A Christian is not mercenary, C.S. Lewis has pointed out, for striving after the reward of God Himself. But if he tries to use his relationship with God to get stuff, he’s been converted to Hessianity.