
We are still considering the hope that the children of postmodernism might yet reclaim an earlier tradition. Friday we observed that a culture is not made up of a few things you can pick up at a Super Walmart. A culture makes us what we are, it is a complete set of coherent choices, a collection of judgments about everything. It is something held in common with other people. You don't get to concoct a culture for yourself and a few friends who like votive candles and think U2 is a cool band.

Culture is not like a new hat you can buy when people start laughing at your old hat. Culture is what tells you whether a hat is worth having, what sort of hat is appropriate and which store will have the hat you need. Some of you will remember the beginning of the story when Bertie Wooster brings home a silly hat, an inappropriate hat for a man of his station. And you will remember that by the end of the story he finally accepts the judgment of Jeeves and allows him give it to a hobo who has lost all self-respect.
But let's set this fact aside for a moment and recall the words of these children of postmodernism and the choices we've seen them make.
But notice the commonality: as ridiculous as each of these beliefs is on its merits, notice how they all emerge from an obsession with the self, with a rejection of the institutional church (which they often call the IC). This talk about community is a ploy: they have rejected the largest, most intellectually coherent community of faith they've ever known. It is impossible for these people to create community out of cultic impulses and spastic stabs at self-actualization. It can't be done.
Where is the postmodern impulse to understand and preserve a culture?
What would their culture look like if they had their own city?
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