In spite of (or perhaps because of) threats floated by Republicans in the Montana House to pass a fire-fighting funding bill and then adjourn, peaceful agreement was arrived at and the session appears to be over. Notably absent was the kind of take-no-prisoners strong-arming from Democrats that was so prominent during the regular session and during the special session called to finish the final budget this spring.
The real reason for Republican firmness was legislators like Sen. Sam Kitzenberg, who is most widely known because of his opportunistic party-switching after having been given an unadvertised state job by the governor. Kitzenberg wanted to use the session to find other ways to spend money. OK, it was "for the sake of the children," so no-one should have had the audacity to dare oppose Kitzenberg.
Kitzenberg would of course love to have extra education spending credited to him in the Democratic primary. He is campaigning to be the state's educational Grand Poo-bah -- which apparently pays more than does the state job he currently has.
That "for the sake of the children" act begins to wear thin after awhile -- and one suspects that his Democratic primary opponents would have raised a fuss within the party had he used the special session to gain an advantage over them.
Senate President Mike Cooney perhaps knew as much when he joined with Speaker Scott Sales in quashing any ideas of using the special session for anything but funding fire-fighting. It's not that Cooney might not have wanted to spend money, but out-of-control special session spending would have hurt Democrats more than Republicans in the coming legislative elections, so enlightened self-interest likely was at work.
Although Charles Johnson's article equally credits Democratic and Republican leaders for keeping the special session under control, notably absent were Republican plans to spend more money. It was the Democrats who appear to have had more grandiose plans and dreams for the session. In other words, it was the Democratic legislators who needed to be reined in, both on extra spending and on the expansion of powers for the state executive branch.
(Although we Republicans did get blamed for wanting to spend more money in the regular session on fire-fighting rather than on hiring more tax collectors -- silly us with our silly priorities.)
Anyway, it's over, and we can watch our wallets a little less closely -- for the moment, anyway.
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
D. James Kennedy will be missed
Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson got most of the attention, but D. James Kennedy was one of the most influential figures in the re-engagement of conservative Christians with American politics and culture.
Kennedy was firm in his beliefs and consistent in his worldview. He brought a level of dignity in the way he spoke and acted that was rooted in his old-school Scottish Presbyterianism. But he also had a gift for somehow translating that Calvinist Protestantism -- both in its peculiar genius and its flaws -- into the world of the 20th century -- megachurches, television, and all.
Its naturalness came largely through the fact that that particular religious tradition was never afraid to engage the world around it, and never was one to beat the drums for a retreat behind obscurantism or ignorance. But to a growing religious right fueled by very different and more emotional kinds of Christian belief, Kennedy was an anomaly who often caused those unfamiliar with the tradition from which he sprang to look quizzically -- even as they listened and were convinced.
The AP article points out his opposition to specific things like abortion and homosexuality -- hardly revolutionary positions within the Christian tradition. What the article doesn't capture in such listings is the extent to which Kennedy quietly taught many of his generation not what to think -- but how to think within the Christian tradition as Kennedy had received it.
It has been many years since even religiously interested Americans have listened to him speak. Like a good general, he more or less faded away in recent years. But the news of his death will doubtless awaken memories in many, and leave a little empty spot, knowing that we won't likely see another quite like him.
R.I.P.
Kennedy was firm in his beliefs and consistent in his worldview. He brought a level of dignity in the way he spoke and acted that was rooted in his old-school Scottish Presbyterianism. But he also had a gift for somehow translating that Calvinist Protestantism -- both in its peculiar genius and its flaws -- into the world of the 20th century -- megachurches, television, and all.
Its naturalness came largely through the fact that that particular religious tradition was never afraid to engage the world around it, and never was one to beat the drums for a retreat behind obscurantism or ignorance. But to a growing religious right fueled by very different and more emotional kinds of Christian belief, Kennedy was an anomaly who often caused those unfamiliar with the tradition from which he sprang to look quizzically -- even as they listened and were convinced.
The AP article points out his opposition to specific things like abortion and homosexuality -- hardly revolutionary positions within the Christian tradition. What the article doesn't capture in such listings is the extent to which Kennedy quietly taught many of his generation not what to think -- but how to think within the Christian tradition as Kennedy had received it.
It has been many years since even religiously interested Americans have listened to him speak. Like a good general, he more or less faded away in recent years. But the news of his death will doubtless awaken memories in many, and leave a little empty spot, knowing that we won't likely see another quite like him.
R.I.P.
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