R. J. Rushdoony, Jim Morrison and the Antithesis: A Toast to R. J. Rushdoony

Our days are those in which the weed of Western unbelief is coming into full bloom, imported from Hell into the Garden of Eden, sown and cultivated in various forms throughout history, given a fuller, more robust incarnation at the French Revolution, taking firm root in America during the 1960s: unbelief (or, as the Dutch statesman/philosopher G. Van Prinsterer used to call it, the Revolution) is unfurling Its petals and giving off its fetid aroma throughout the spheres of our civilization.

The 60s were critical times. The issues then appeared to most to go no deeper than demands for a war’s end, or the societal acceptance of marriage-less sex, or the legalization of drugs. Some knew better. What do Rousas John Rushdoony of the Chalcedon Foundation and Jim Morrison of the Doors have in common? While lining up on antithetical sides to answer the 60s challenges, each understood the constitutive core of the conflict to be a religious one.

In the nineteenth century, Van Prinsterer clearly exposed the anti-Christian essence of egalitarianism (an exposure unseen or rejected, sad to say, by his feminized descendants today). Van Prinsterer’s perspicuity was dead-on accurate. He saw that “the defining feature of the Revolution [i.e., egalitarianism as expressed in the Jacobinism of the French Revolution, and among us today as all the various “rights” movements—sms] is its hatred of the Gospel, its anti-Christian nature. This feature marks the Revolution,” not in its deviations or excesses, but “precisely when It holds to its course and reaches the conclusions of Its system, the true end of its logical development.”

Rushdoony, building on insights such as these (part of the legacy left by our Reformed forebears), set the battle in a context which revealed the religious roots of the gauntlet thrown at the feet on an ill-prepared Christendom. He showed also where the challenge, if unmet, would lead. More importantly, he reminded the church that when she obeys Christ’s whole Word, when God is thus pleased with her, she “should go up and take possession of the land, for [she] can certainly do it” (Num. 14:8,9; 13:30).

Employing a rarely granted breadth of vision joined to encyclopedic knowledge, Rushdoony In 1965 demonstrated the connection between modern calls for socialism and moral license with the ancient pagan religions of chaos. Their common features included the belief that man’s origin is to be discovered in, and his salvation is to be sought via a return to, chaos. The Christian seeks social renewal in terms of Christ’s law and order, thus honoring marriage, property, status and authorities. For disciples of the Revolution, these are the very things which stand in the way of freedom. Rushdoony explained that the platforms of the revolutionaries “do not make sense because they are not intended to make sense; they are a defiance of the universe of God in the name of chaos.”

In 1967, 23-year-oid Jim Morrison revealed a similar understanding of the basic issues. Lead singer and main lyricist for the Doors, Morrison, though on the wrong side, nevertheless displayed a self-conscious understanding of the true nature of the struggle greater than that which can be discovered in most Christian quarters today. Shall we live in dependence upon the God of the Bible and so have life, security and peace, or shall we cut off our relationship to Him, declare our independence, and have sexual and psychological license, even if it means darkness, fear and death? Morrison’s answers were powerfully framed, poetic reminiscences of that pathetic, Satanic delusion, “Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven.” Like countless souls before him, Morrison chose to break the covenant; unlike most, however, he seemed to be fully—even excruciatingly—aware of the implications of his choice.

Not long after the infamous Oedipal tribute to patricide and incest in their song, “The End,” the Doors released another album with a song entitled, “When the Music’s Over.” There Morrison asks Jesus Christ to reckon him (Morrison) among the unbelievers and consign him to hell where his heroes are: “Cancel my subscription to the resurrection; Send my credentials to the house of detention; I got some friends inside.” Defying God for title to the earth, Morrison complains that the Christian West has ravaged her. He’s sure the revolutionaries can do better, as he demands, “We want the world and we want it... NOW!”

Then, in a moment, suddenly, as if cast into a theater where his imaginings are experienced as reality, he shrieks at the shrillest top of his voice, “Save us.’ Jesus! Save us!” He does not voice this like the mocker, but like the revolutionary poet/petitioner who has been granted his requests and is falling, headlong and terrified, into the realization of the revolutionary principle, it is a truly pathetic, blood-curdling, skin-tingling, terrifying insight into the end of unbelief; it is Proverbs 1:24-32 set to music.

His self-consciousness was stunning and instructive. On The Soft Parade, released two years later, to the proposition that “You can petition the Lord with prayer,” Morrison screams, “You cannot petition the Lord with prayer!” Then, with an uncharacteristic softness, a pleading vulnerability, he seems once again to be fully aware of the location in which his rejection has placed him: “Can you give me sanctuary? I must find a place to hide, a place for me to hide.”

No, Jim. There is no place to hide from God (Ps. 139:7,8). Morrison knew that rejection of God left him exposed and weak, in need of a new god: “We need someone or something new, something else to get us through.”

Morrison wanted what cannot be had: freedom apart from God. He wanted it even—at times it seemed, especially—if it meant death. It did. In July of 1971, at the age of 27, Jim Morrison died In Paris “of self-abuse,” as one biographer put it. As the Scripture puts It, “Whoever finds me finds life and receives favor from the Lord. But whoever falls to find me harms himself; all who hate me love death” (Pr. 8:35-36).

In May, R.J. Rushdoony celebrated his 80th birthday (he’s the same age as my dad, and Messiah’s Congregation’s matriarch, Mama Betty). As a Reformed Christian, Rushdoony advocates the covenant of life. An as unbeliever, Morrison embodies the covenant of death. Thirty years into self-consciousness, which covenant do we find our society embracing? Do a search on the Internet for “Rushdoony” and you’ll find 200 matches. Do a search for “Jim Morrison” and you’ll find 2,000. It’s not Five to One, but ten to one.

Since the 1960s, our society has—in mores, statutes and songs—embraced the ethics of Jim Morrison. From the man in the White House to the man on the street, we have taken a collective tumble toward death by seeking to define freedom without reference to the true God or His Word. Our founding fathers must have gyrated in their tombs last November when Senior Presidential Advisor George Stephanopolous pandered to the fourth annual convention of Lesbian and Gay Journalists. He bragged about “Roberta Achtenberg, Bruce Lehman, Nan Hunter, Bob Hattoy, Gregory King and ‘Victor Zonana….. all serving In this administration as Gays and Lesbians, openly, for the first time in the history of the United States of America” He bragged about Marsha Scott, the White House’s “full-time liaison to the Gay and Lesbian community,… the President’s leadership (in bringing) Gay and Lesbian Issues out of the closet and into the open,” and the USA as homo-haven, “grant [ing] political asylum to Gays and Lesbians who face persecution abroad.” He railed against “Jesse Helms and his kind.” He continued the sacrilegious employment of Christian terminology begun by his boss at the 1992 Democratic convention when Clinton styled his agenda as “The New Covenant.” In gushy flattery meant to further solidify sodomite support, Stephanopoulos told the moguls of modern mass media, “You lived the simple lesson that we should love our neighbors as ourselves. You honored life, and fought death, with love. You proved the truth that we all have etched in our hearts: that when the Bible teaches that we are created in the image of God, it makes no exceptions. Not one.” Not even, apparently, the Devil. Morrison’s heirs couldn’t ask for more. Political leaders rewrite Scripture to serve, not God, but His enemies. The transcript notes that these remarks were greeted by applause. So were Morrison’s songs. Don’t follow the siren without looking where it leads.

As we approach the end of this twentieth century of Christian mission, we in the Christian West are witnessing a maturation of the fruit found on either side of the Antithesis. On one side is rebellion, unbelief, license, and death. On the other Is Christ, obedience to His Law, and resultant life. The horror of partial-birth abortion mirrors what we have done to the progress of the Gospel in America. Bringing it as close to delivery into the world as it had ever been brought, we decided instead to sacrifice it on the altar of egalitarianism, the Revolution. We stopped in just short of birth and, as a society, have inserted scissors into our Christian skulls, choosing to have our brains sucked out unto death, rather than have them employed in subservience to God’s Word. But God’s Word can be neither chained nor defeated. Failure to follow the truth thwarts the errant traveler, not the truth.

O, America! Do you not see where your current path leads? There are, in the end, only two roads. Choose the one to life! Choose life!