Quite obviously, my determination to limit
these reflections to a single page has failed miserably. I have only one excuse for revisiting the
same issues from different perspectives;
I am still striving to escape from the malignant hold of linguistic
formulations which the Baltimore Catechism presented as timelessly revelatory.
As a philosopher of language, I am a
Wittgensteinean rather than a Heideggerian.
But I embrace Heidegger's metaphorical description of the workings of
any language: "Language reveals;
language conceals." In this
context, my critique of the language of the Baltimore Catechism is designed to
expose the insidious ways that it legitimates judgments and strategies which
violate my god-given longing for intimacy with loved ones and with God.
Repeatedly, I find that the formative power of
a language whose god-term is a conception depicting God as a God of Power and
Judgment was so deeply ingrained in me that I will undoubtedly be involved in
exposing its crippling influence until the day that I die. In the meantime, however, I now rejoice in
small and simple transforming moments.
(In my better moments, I am no longer his majesty the baby who wants it
all and wants it now.)
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