Reflections on Mortal Goods by Ephraim Radner, Part Two

In the last few weeks of my spring course, we use 1 John as our opening Scripture.  The letter allows for a number of call-backs to both the Old Testament and John’s Gospel.  He often refers to his readers as “dear children,” which is an opportunity for me to remind my students that he’s not being dismissive so much as he is showing compassion and care for them in a world of darkness and light.  I was glad to see Ephraim Radner reference 1 John as an example of a “letter to children,” which is what Radner intends Mortal Goods to be.  Radner explains:

I want my children to live well.I want them, as I will explore the matter, to live a good life, perhaps even “the Good Life,” as philosophers have envisaged it.To do that, however, they must be willing to inhabit a common space where God gives all, where all is taken away, and where, in the midst of this grand movement, a few clear lines of divine glory are etched, received, and followed.

He also says something in reference to the call in Ecclesiastes to remember God in our youth that has stuck with me (and might work its way into a talk at school next month):

“Remembering thy Creator” now, for the young, is of paramount importance because the discipline of remembering is learned early on, if it is to be used at all.

Radner, like so many others, feels a real impetus for passing down what he believes and lives.  A big part of what I like about the first half of Radner’s book, though, is his choice to take time to set real context.  Because, in a sense, advice is always contextual.  And while the context he gives isn’t necessarily bad news, it is a reminder that things aren’t (nor have they ever been) as rosy as they might seem:

If we wish to help our children live the Good Life, we must surely ask where, in fact, the Good Life is to be lived. And the answer is “in the midst of evil days.” Perhaps not always, not for everyone. But it seems that this is the time in which I am now writing, and it is also so for those to whom I write: the days are evil indeed.

Radner gets this idea, or at least this particular wording from Paul’s challenge in his letter to the Ephesians to make the most of their time, because the days are evil (5:15-16).  But it’s not a total either-or for Radner.  Life is rarely that cut-and-dry:

The Good Life is possible, surely, in the midst of any “day,” good or evil. For God offers goods, and hence the Good itself somehow, in the midst of all days, since every day is his. He calls us into the good of living “in and through.” And for this, God gives grace that is joined to the very limitations that shape our burdens.

Radner points out an interesting thread in our 21st century America struggles.  As he sees it, the struggle starts with irresolution and leads to a growing sense of impossibility:

The experience of irresolution— of not “solving” the problems one can identify— appears to be growing into a larger vision of impossibility that touches on a loss of faith in family and communal identities, in legislative and broader political systems, in religious claims themselves (not just “institutions,” a problem in earlier ages), in the future itself.

Radner gives no easy answers, of course.  He’s really just getting started in his overall argument.  One could easily make a connection between the “abnormal politics” previously mentioned and today’s “vision of impossibility” than many people live with.  These are especially great questions for the church, though many of us won’t particularly like where Radner leads . . . which is another reason he is worth listening to.