Freedom of Speech

The day after Christmas, my husband stumbled across an eBay ad for an old camera. Wanting to read the details, Rudi clicked the ad and, rather than a description of the camera's condition, the seller had written a story about how well the camera photographed his obese mother-in-law, followed by she's-so-fat jokes. Politely, my husband contacted the seller to let him know his ad was offensive and could potentially hurt many people. The seller informed Rudi that he himself was obese and this type of abusive speech was common jest between he and his mother-in-law. He then told Rudi to buzz off and mind his own business because of, and I quote, "FREEDOM OF SPEECH."

Back in the day, when words had great depth of meaning, freedom "was traditionally understood as the power to do what one ought to do" (see footnote), which implies goodwill or that a certain moral "rightness" is purposed--is the very foundation--of what one ought to do.

If it could (and still can) be determined what it is that one ought to do based on reasonable moral law, we can then also establish that: 1) there is a counter measure (what one ought not to do), and 2) there exists individual accountability for (free will) choice.

Now this should enlighten freedom of speech to be understood as the power to say what one ought to say, with all goodwill and moral rightness accompanying it, and that there also exist things that one ought not to say.

This man claimed he had a right to publicly abuse the obesity of his mother-in-law because of Freedom of Speech. But if we sample the content of his speech, we discover the foundation does not stem from any intent of goodwill. Psychologists would even defend that this behavior is not only demeaning toward others, but also self-destructive to the individual saying it.

Does this individual possess the free will to say what he chooses? Yes. All individuals possess free will and, therefore, are accountable for their choice.

What this man did not possess in this instance was freedom of speech, the very thing he claimed to defend.

The true possessor of freedom of speech was my husband. It was within his power to say what he ought to say, to defend people who may be torn down and hurt by this man's careless tongue. Rudi's intent was goodwill and his foundation moral rightness, and such were the bases of his actions.

But this world is backward!

Those who should engage their morally-rooted freedom, those who should exercise freedom of speech to defend against what should not be said or done, when they begin to raise their voices they are shouted at by the masses--"Buzz off with your ideas! We have freedom of speech!" When in fact the ones who dared speak are those who should be speaking!

What would happen if every Christian stood up for moral rightness and said, "Yes, this is right," and "No, that is wrong," and they didn't back down?

In his book Love Your God with All Your Mind, J.P. Moreland quoted R.C. Sproul, John Gerstner, and Arthur Lindsley from their book Classical Apologetics:

"... No martyr's blood is shed in the secular west. So long as the church knows her place and remains quietly at peace on her modern reservation. Let the babes pray and sing and read their Bibles, continuing steadfastly in their intellectual retardation; the church's extinction will not come by sword or pillory, but by the quiet death of irrelevance. But let the church step off the reservation, let her penetrate once more the culture of the day and the...face of secularism will change from a benign smile to a savage snarl."

Let them snarl and let us properly defend: Freedom of Speech.

(Footnote: Love Your God with all Your Mind, by J.P. Moreland, chapter 1, page 37)

The Daily Habit

This is my first blog. The reason for this self-assignment is to feed the habit, the discipline, of writing. How is it, then, I could be experiencing writer's block already?

What I must do, then, is acknowledge the problem (check), talk through it (doing), and oi la! I've written four sentences already. And I must not be plagued by Jane Austen's syndrome of editing to perfection; this is a blog, not a novel. The construct of the narrative is not so important as that of Pride and Prejudice, which I read this year.

But this is beside the point. I must move forward into the content of my first post, which is yet undefined.

This dilemma of defining a purpose plagues me. What is the point?

Too often I have strings of projects left incomplete because, when I began each endeavor, they served no real purpose. As amusement was lost, or when some stronger passion came over me, they were abandoned for something else. But if there had been a purpose other than self gratification, I would have done.

For example, I completed my daughter's Christmas dress because it was for Christmas. But even as I sit here, I have the guilt-inducing vantage of my half-painted kitchen cabinets. I can look still further into the incomplete guest bathroom, and should I even confess that I began another project? I did. I painted one wall in the master bedroom.

So much in my life would gain tremendous advantage if I could define the purpose of various activities or, at the very least, if I could just not begin anything that lacks a definitive purpose.

Purpose

I like this definition: an anticipated outcome that is intended or that guides your planned actions.

Someone recently asked me a very serious question, something entirely more serious than sewing or painting. They wanted to hear from me, as a Christian, what the purpose of life was. After a lengthy, story-form explanation of how I arrived at my conclusion, I explained that my purpose was, therefore: 1) to be conformed to the image of Christ and, insodoing, 2) to bring glory to, or to worship, God.

(And to bring the least amount of menacing behaviour upon my husband as possible.)

The anticipated outcome (bringing glory to God) should guide the behaviour--the planned actions--each of which should be done with the intention of demonstrating conformity to Christ's image.

I can use this to evaluate myself: if my purpose in life really is to bring glory to God, every of my actions should be thoughtful in how I either am, or am not, acting in a way that demonstrates Christ-like behaviour. This takes the discipline I so decidedly lack.

In Romans, Paul gives the instruction not to be conformed to this world, but to be "transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect." Though he may not say so himself, Paul was a master at self discipline; he was a pharisee of pharisees. But he was still human. He still bore painfully with his flesh, requiring the daily discipline of dying to self to gain Christ. Yet he could still say to the church, "do as I do." Follow my example.

Days of Habit is to form the habit of writing. But more importantly, I must ask myself: Am I in the daily habit of being conformed to Christ?

May be I should start there.