There's a new post on the above topic over at the other blog. Click "Scholegium" in the left pane.

Edit:

I just read the sermon outline for Pastor Wilson's Sunday harangue and it's on this same topic. Interesting. I wrote my post about population because I've been reading Mark Steyn's new book America Alone, and I highly recommend it. Sounds like Pastor Wilson does too. It's thought-provoking in a big-picture, wonder-what's-going-to-happen-to-all-of-civilization sort of way.

I've put together a history of this holiday in America which you can find here.

Schola students, there are three new and very important announcements on the Atrium. Go see! Now!

In other news, it's raining. And I still need to complete the roof on the doghouse. But I have a good excuse! I got three big boxes of wonderful used books yesterday for a very good price. Hodge's Systematic Theology, The BAGD Greek Lexicon of New Testament and Patristic Literature, a three-volume Hebrew-English Interlinear, several copies of the Book of Common Prayer, a volume on feasts and customs of the Church year, some Roman Catholic mass books and the Catechism (no, I'm not going Roman Catholic, silly; why on earth would I want to sit cross-legged all the time? Oh wait, that's Buddhism...), the five-volume Expositor's Greek Testament by W. Robertson Nicoll (I've been itching to type his name), several evangelical dictionaries of theology, the three-volume Cambridge History of the Bible, some other Greek texts of various kinds (including Bruce Metzger's excellent Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament, with which I have philosophical disagreements but find immensely valuable anyway and besides, who am I to take issue with Dr. Metzger?), and a commentary on the Book of Common Prayer. pant  Oh yes, and nearly all in hardback! Why am I telling you all this? Because you're the sort of people who would appreciate books like these. You're all weird. You're my kind of people. group hug

Today is Universal Children's Day. Thank you, United Nations. If my eyeballs get stuck in the back of my head from rolling, just slap me on the back to dislodge them. You can read about UCD here and you can read the full text of the Convention on the Rights of the Child here. If you have the stomach for it.

If you do an internet search on Universal Children's Day you could read page after page about it (but you have better things to do with your day) and you would note constant talk about a child's rights as a subset of basic human rights, but nowhere word one about a child's responsibilities (there's one brief mention of duties in the UDHR - see the next paragraph). Now, someone might counter that the U.N. has no business talking about what a child ought to do, since a government is supposed simply to preserve good order. Uh huh. Since the text of the Conventions does contain very clear assertions about, for example, what the education of a child should involve and what its purpose is (to be a good citizen), one would want to think a little more carefully before using that argument, wouldn't one? Second, in all the yak in the text of the Convention, you'll see absolutely nothing about the church and its responsibilities; everything is up to the State. The Convention doesn't just lay out the protections that should be provided for by a State, but the positive things a State ought to do for a child, and the vast majority of the things mentioned are those which historically have been the province of the church, along with the community and family. And finally, there is no word of where these rights come from, they are simply asserted.

The Convention's philosophy is based on that of the U.N.'s 1948 Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which is equally full of cool ideas, like this one about education (from article 26): "Education shall be directed to the full development of the human personality and to the strengthening of respect for human rights and fundamental freedoms. It shall promote understanding, tolerance and friendship among all nations, racial or religious groups, and shall further the activities of the United Nations for the maintenance of peace." Of course, that one is followed by this one: "Parents have a prior right to choose the kind of education that shall be given to their children." But the implication is that parents can choose the kind, but not the goal, which is set forth in the previous statement. And what a goal! None of this ancient silliness about wisdom or virtue, or understanding the Great Conversation, or glorifying God. This alters my whole future. (Hey wow, so that's what the inside of my head looks like...)

Both the Convention and the UDHR smack of the French Revolution, circa 1789. They smack of John Dewey and the Nat'l Education Assocation. They smack of Rationalism and the wrong kind of humanistic Enlightenment thought. They smack of the most exuberant and high-handed, ignorant, arrogant statism. They and all their works ought to be smacked, good and hard. And so should we the Church, even harder, for letting the humanists pretend to take the lead in social progress.

Why do the heathen rage, and the people imagine a vain thing? The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together, against the LORD, and against his anointed, saying, Let us break their bands asunder, and cast away their cords from us. He that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh: the Lord shall have them in derision. Then shall he speak unto them in his wrath, and vex them in his sore displeasure. Yet have I set my king upon my holy hill of Zion.

I will declare the decree: the LORD hath said unto me, Thou art my Son; this day have I begotten thee. Ask of me, and I shall give thee the heathen for thine inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for thy possession. Thou shalt break them with a rod of iron; thou shalt dash them in pieces like a potter's vessel.

Be wise now therefore, O ye kings: be instructed, ye judges of the earth. Serve the LORD with fear, and rejoice with trembling. Kiss the Son, lest he be angry, and ye perish from the way, when his wrath is kindled but a little. Blessed are all they that put their trust in him.

--Psalm 2

In light of the below post, this old one is apropos.

There's a short post on the other blog linking to a great essay by Al Mohler about books and libraries and what they reveal. Go read it.

Today I brought my wife and daughter home from The Land O' Starbucks where they landed after touring Taiwan and Hong Kong. Buckle up - they'll have pictures and stories coming.

Yesterday hunting season officially opened in our area and by eight thirty in the morning I had my deer. So much for hunting season. I keep telling my father not to let me take my rifle on Opening Day next year; I'd like it to last a bit longer. Today my 13-year old son, got his deer. Season over for him too. If Dad's not careful, he'll get his deer by this weekend and then what'll we do? Yesterday as I was dressing out my deer in the woods, Robert was standing by, supervising, and said meditatively, "You know, the best thing about hunting is just being out in the woods." Very astute. If getting a deer were the true goal, I'd be unfazed by getting my deer the first day, but it's not, and I'm fazed. I even thought, as I lay peering through the scope and squeezing the trigger (100 yards, sun and wind in my favor, rested and breathing quiet, steady rest on the ground, perfect neck shot, no meat destroyed, everything was right), I thought to myself, says I, "Self? If you shoot, that's it for another season?" ....Ka-blam. "Self" evidently hadn't been listening very closely. "Yeah, yeah, uh huh, uh huh, now shut up and lemme shoot." Stupid self.

Still, a satisfying shot, clean kill, I bring home the bacon again. In thirty-six years of hunting and nearly that many deer, I've never once merely wounded a deer and lost it. Dad taught me to shoot well or not at all. I've taken deer with a .30-30, a .300 Savage, .30-06, and my S&W .44 Magnum revolver. All one shot drops. I don't generally get trophy animals - in fact, one year, due to poor calculation of distance and size, I shot one I could have brought home in my pocket. Ok, not that small, but you get the idea. Last year, a nice spike buck. Many years, a fat doe, good eating. And the season isn't really over. Robert and I will go out with Dad and help chase them his way though the woods. And when he gets his, we'll all still go out and walk around, just to be out there, in the silence, the cold, the autumn forest.

The moon is full tonight. It rose directly in the east, so it will be very high at midnight, which is not far off now. Last night it was bright silver in a black velvet sky - is there any other way to describe it? - but tonight a thin sheen of clouds (stratus, Faith says) dims it a little. Not much. The clouds around the moon are green and blue and copper. Faith and I stepped out on the back step to look and heard an animal cacophony: dogs barking, geese honking overhead, cows mooing... and no doubt the coyotes will join in soon. Lunacy. 

Every month I'm terribly tempted to get up around midnight and go walking in the field under the moon's influence. I don't often give in to the temptation (I used to) but it's even more tempting when it's clear, because I never know whether the next month's full moon will be obscured by clouds, so I feel I have to take the chance offered me. I used to go into the night well-prepared: I'd carry my revolver on my belt and extra ammo in my pocket; I'd wear a hooded sweatshirt and leather jacket over that, and field boots and my old beat-up fedora; I"d stop to sit on the old stump along the fenceline by the upper house (not a house at all but a clearing in the trees where an old house used to be). It's very still and silent at night up in the fields by the woods and even the few lights of town look lonesome and cold and still, which of course is what one wants to feel. At midnight there's almost no traffic on the highway far off across the river but when there is it's tinniness only emphasizes the huge silence; sometimes I hear owls in the timber or down along the creek bottom in the cottonwoods. The sky around the moon is a sort of washed out black - no stars show in the region near the moon but lower down near the horizon the brighter ones still twinkle.

The air at night, up in the woods, is soft and damp but not uncomfortable and it makes my throat feel stronger to suck it in and drink it down. The dog, Penny, doesn't seem to care that it's night - she barrels along with her nose to the ground sniffing for mice in the stubble of the field or romping through the underbrush in the woods. Sometimes I take my revolver out of its leather holster and carry it just to feel the satisfying weight of it in my hand, the cold hard steel and the firm rubber of the grip. It feels secure and powerful and comfortable. I like the sound of my leather jacket creaking and the swish of my boots in the stubble and the feel of my felt hat above my ears. And the taste of a good cigar in the dim light of the moon, along with a sip of bourbon, is an unrivalled pleasure because of the silence and warm clothing and panting dog and heavy pistol and distant owls and stars and the silver moon overhead drifting slowly west through Deep Heaven.