Die before you die. There is no chance after.
Lewis' quote out of Till We Have Faces has been echoing in my head all morning since learning of the death of Christopher Hitchens.
I followed the debates between Doug Wilson and Hitchens, watched "Collision," and was once privileged to hear Peter Hitchens live.
Hitchens' last piece for Vanity Fair
Read Hitchens' reflections on his cancer--they are harrowing, horrifying and heroic. He was intellectually honest--to the point of self-immolation. Just the headshot of Christopher's chemo-swollen face, bald head, the skin aged 10 years in only one year, makes one grieve for the strong voice in the quickly slackening body. He knew Who he was fighting--the Mighty God, the Judge of all the earth Who does rightly, the Ancient of Days, the I Am, the Creator and Maker and Sustainer. He denied all those titles, but he did not belittle them.
Pastor Wilson's obit for Christianity Today
"[Hitchens] He was fully aware of the authority an enfant terrible could have, provided he played his cards right, and this was a strategy that Hitchens employed very well indeed. One man who delivers a terrible insult is banned from television for life, and another man, who does the same thing, has people lining up with invitations and microphones. In case anyone is wondering, Christopher was that second man.
"Ironically, the branch of the faith most interested in getting the 'cultured despisers' to pay us some respect is really not that effective, and this is a strategy that can frequently be found on the pointed end of its own petard. Respectability depends on not caring too much about respectability. Unbelievers can smell accommodation, and when someone like Christopher meets someone who actually believes all the articles in the Creed, including that part about Jesus coming back from the dead, it delights him. Here is someone actually willing to defend what is being attacked. Militant atheists are often exasperated with opponents whose strategy appears to be 'surrender slowly.'"
A very Wilsonian bon mot:
"He wanted to carry on the grand tradition of doubting what had been inherited from Christendom, and to take great delight in doubting it. This worked well, or appeared to, for a time. But skepticism is a universal solvent, and once applied, it does not stop just because Christendom is gone." . . . and then he quotes the Moody Blues: "I think I am, therefore I am. I think."
Obit from his friend Christopher Buckley
Peter Hitchens' obit for his brother honoring his courage:
"Here’s a thing I will say now without hesitation, unqualified and important. The one word that comes to mind when I think of my brother is ‘courage’. By this I don’t mean the lack of fear which some people have, which enables them to do very dangerous or frightening things because they have no idea what it is to be afraid. I mean a courage which overcomes real fear, while actually experiencing it. . . . Courage is deliberately taking a known risk, sometimes physical, sometimes to your livelihood, because you think it is too important not to."
Christopher Hitchens demonstrated an intellectual honesty and courage for a false cause. How much more should we be courageous and intellectually honest for the Truth?
Interesting thoughts from Alan Jacobs, a.k.a. @ayjay, via Twitter:
Hitch was a great journalist and a fine critic, but he's not being celebrated for that. The outpouring of grief is for a lost mythmaker.
Hitch's primary myth was himself, and that's the kind of myth late modernity most craves and celebrates.
By contrast, the death of Russell Hoban, whose mythmaking was vastly creative but not centered on himself, was barely noticed.
Russell Hoban was half of the Russell-Lillian duo who wrote Frances the Badger. So now I need to rediscover one of my favorite childhood authors (Egg Thoughts and Other Frances Songs was my favorite). Wikipedia tells us that he wrote magic realism.
I followed the debates between Doug Wilson and Hitchens, watched "Collision," and was once privileged to hear Peter Hitchens live.
Hitchens' last piece for Vanity Fair
Read Hitchens' reflections on his cancer--they are harrowing, horrifying and heroic. He was intellectually honest--to the point of self-immolation. Just the headshot of Christopher's chemo-swollen face, bald head, the skin aged 10 years in only one year, makes one grieve for the strong voice in the quickly slackening body. He knew Who he was fighting--the Mighty God, the Judge of all the earth Who does rightly, the Ancient of Days, the I Am, the Creator and Maker and Sustainer. He denied all those titles, but he did not belittle them.
Pastor Wilson's obit for Christianity Today
"[Hitchens] He was fully aware of the authority an enfant terrible could have, provided he played his cards right, and this was a strategy that Hitchens employed very well indeed. One man who delivers a terrible insult is banned from television for life, and another man, who does the same thing, has people lining up with invitations and microphones. In case anyone is wondering, Christopher was that second man.
"Ironically, the branch of the faith most interested in getting the 'cultured despisers' to pay us some respect is really not that effective, and this is a strategy that can frequently be found on the pointed end of its own petard. Respectability depends on not caring too much about respectability. Unbelievers can smell accommodation, and when someone like Christopher meets someone who actually believes all the articles in the Creed, including that part about Jesus coming back from the dead, it delights him. Here is someone actually willing to defend what is being attacked. Militant atheists are often exasperated with opponents whose strategy appears to be 'surrender slowly.'"
A very Wilsonian bon mot:
"He wanted to carry on the grand tradition of doubting what had been inherited from Christendom, and to take great delight in doubting it. This worked well, or appeared to, for a time. But skepticism is a universal solvent, and once applied, it does not stop just because Christendom is gone." . . . and then he quotes the Moody Blues: "I think I am, therefore I am. I think."
Obit from his friend Christopher Buckley
Peter Hitchens' obit for his brother honoring his courage:
"Here’s a thing I will say now without hesitation, unqualified and important. The one word that comes to mind when I think of my brother is ‘courage’. By this I don’t mean the lack of fear which some people have, which enables them to do very dangerous or frightening things because they have no idea what it is to be afraid. I mean a courage which overcomes real fear, while actually experiencing it. . . . Courage is deliberately taking a known risk, sometimes physical, sometimes to your livelihood, because you think it is too important not to."
Christopher Hitchens demonstrated an intellectual honesty and courage for a false cause. How much more should we be courageous and intellectually honest for the Truth?
Interesting thoughts from Alan Jacobs, a.k.a. @ayjay, via Twitter:
Hitch was a great journalist and a fine critic, but he's not being celebrated for that. The outpouring of grief is for a lost mythmaker.
Hitch's primary myth was himself, and that's the kind of myth late modernity most craves and celebrates.
By contrast, the death of Russell Hoban, whose mythmaking was vastly creative but not centered on himself, was barely noticed.
Russell Hoban was half of the Russell-Lillian duo who wrote Frances the Badger. So now I need to rediscover one of my favorite childhood authors (Egg Thoughts and Other Frances Songs was my favorite). Wikipedia tells us that he wrote magic realism.
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