Brooks says we need bold action to strengthen families and support education, so that the whole population—not just an educated elite—can compete in a globalized economy. He says we also need a revamped, lean tax-and-regulatory system so that business can compete globally. “This agenda is libertarian in the capitalist sector and activist in the human capital sector.”

Two caveats. First, taxes aren’t about punishment, but about allocating resources. We’ve cut taxes for the rich so that they pay at the lowest rates in modern history. Nudging that back a bit isn’t the second coming of Robespierre. It can help provide some of those family and educational supports that people need. The money has to come from somewhere.

And second, it’s not clear that American business is in trouble because of excessive taxes and regulation. There are problems, certainly, but right now we’re digging out of a hole enabled by under-regulation. “Libertarian in the capitalist sector” sometimes produces disaster—just as often, I would say, as does “activism in the human capital sector.” Deregulation and simplification of taxes have to be done right—and there are plenty of capitalist forces, throwing lots of bribes in Washington, who want to bend the rules in their favor.

That said, I agree with the thrust of Brooks’ piece. I doubt the government is ever very good at industrial policy, advancing “green jobs” or whatever. I want the government to set the rules—including a carbon tax—and let the forces of capitalism find the preferred way.

The government is really the only way, however, to provide good social services including education for the less-than-elite. This is not just do-gooding; it helps bring economic opportunity to people who will work hard and play by the rules. This too has to be done right. But when it is, that is good for us all.

I was in Orlando last week for a meeting of the (new) Fellowship of Presbyterians. It’s an attempt to rededicate Presbyterian congregations to core biblical purposes. I won’t try to describe the nuts and bolts of that, which are inevitably tedious. I’ll just say that I appreciated the tone set by the leaders. They resolutely did not complain about the current denomination (PCUSA). They emphasized that they were not so interested in escaping a compromised church as in reinvigorating their own sense of mission.

My highlight, by far, was a talk by John Ortberg, pastor of Menlo Park Presbyterian Church. (Here’s the video.) I recommend it most heartily. I particularly appreciated his evocation of a faith that is thoughtful, courteous, socially and culturally engaged, and loves Jesus. In this, he said, we really do have something important to offer our world.

In this era when “evangelical” often seems to mean simplistic, sloganeering dogmatism, I found it most encouraging to think that the kind of faith I resonate with can have great significance. Ortberg spoke to that well.

But we knew that. My understanding is that extensive quantitative research on American education has consistently found, taking income and family and school quality into account, that some teachers get remarkably good results year in year out, and some get remarkably bad results. Even in chaotic ghetto schools, some teachers succeed far more than seems possible, and other teachers fail far more than seems reasonable. The results don’t just show up on the next test. They show up over a lifetime. Good teachers make a huge difference. So do bad teachers.

I admire teachers more than just about any other group in America. My mother was a teacher. My sister is a teacher. Back in the days when I went to Back to School nights, I routinely came near to tears when I met the inspiring, dedicated, full-of-life individuals who were teaching my kids day in day out.

But I do have a beef with teachers who won’t admit that there are bad teachers and good teachers and that it makes a huge difference in kids’ lives to get the good ones and avoid the bad ones. Especially it makes a difference in the kids who don’t have a lot of other resources at home or in the neighborhood.

I know it’s hard to fairly evaluate teachers. It’s hard to evaluate people in most lines of skilled work. You’re bound to get it wrong sometimes. But you shouldn’t retain bad teachers because you’re afraid of accidentally mistreating others. Schools exist for the benefit of kids, not teachers.

Our schools should try hard to be fair to teachers, but much more they should be fair to kids. That means doing everything possible to ensure they get good teachers—by singling out and rewarding the best—and avoid bad teachers—by helping them to improve or encouraging them to go on to some other career where they can be successful.

“Obama was elected to lead ‘a rational, postracial, moderate country that is looking for sensible progress,’ a White House official tells Kantor. ‘Except, oops, it’s an enraged, moralistic, harsh, desperate country. It’s a disconnect he can’t bridge.’”

That comes from David Remnick’s New Yorker review of Jodi Kantor’s The Obamas. I thought it captured Obama’s political problems, and ours.

America seems traumatized. And no wonder: 9/11 followed by two wars as endless and incomprehensible as Viet Nam, plus the worst economy since the Great Depression. At times like these, politics requires a Father figure. Roosevelt was that; Reagan was too. We need someone to put our fears into a narrative that makes sense, gives us hope and steels our courage. Obama is calm, which is good, but he is no storyteller. He communicates like a first rate accountant.

That may explain why he so enrages conservatives. Emotional crises call for emotional release, and a leader who violates your gut sense of what needs doing (Balance the budget! Downsize government!) can provoke rage. It’s like a fire is raging and Fluffy is inside and the fireman is telling you in a flatline voice that he understands you are upset but this is not the time to fly off the handle. You want to fly him off the handle.

Liberals are the mirror image. They long to be rallied to the cause of rescuing America, and Obama is looking for thoughtful bipartisan solutions. Send me in, Coach!

I’ll grant you that psychological interpretations of history leave something to be desired. There are, after all, policy matters at stake. Still, I think emotions are a big part of politics, and that this is an especially emotional time.

What’s the answer? Is there a Moses? Do you see one in our Republican candidates? Or do you think Obama may yet find a way to speak to us? Or—do you think we just have to muddle through and hope to feel better in the morning? That’s what I tend to believe.

Despite the fact that wedding ceremonies are planned with great care, they end up gauzy creations, hard to remember. The readings, the flute solos, the carefully constructed candle lightings all blend into one undifferentiated haze. One’s mind drifts off.

Funerals, which are hardly planned at all, have far more solidity. Perhaps it’s because weddings are about the future, celebrating hope, while funerals are about the past, things realized. One is contingent, the other known.

In that respect all weddings are more or less alike, because the hopes are the hopes of humankind. But each and every funeral has its own distinct character, laid down in the life of the person remembered.

We live on the boundary between the future and the past, what we call the present. That thin and elastic membrane continuously and ineluctably converts hopes into realities. On one side we have our ideals and our illusions. On the other side, our honor and our regrets. Some of us have weddings. All of us have funerals.

He appreciates Santorum’s recognition that the America we need is not composed of atomized individuals. Santorum sees an America built of families and communities. He recognizes that only these can rebuild the character of our society, and that while government can and does play a destructive role, it can also play a (limited) positive role. Brooks cites a number of specific policy examples, such as AmeriCorp, which Santorum has come around to supporting.

The shortfall, Brooks says, is that Santorum doesn’t quite see that rebuilding American character is not just a matter of eviscerating the coastal elites. (If it were, the citizens of the Deep South would show immeasurably more virtue than the citizens of Boston and San Francisco. They don’t, by any measure.)

Our character breakdown, Brooks says, comes from the very same forces that give us great economic dynamism: globalization, mobility, the “information-age economy built on self-transformation and perpetual rebranding.” It’s the free market that created these, not the government.

How do we build strong families and communities that foster civic character? Nobody has very convincing answers to that question.

Ten Reasons Why Men Should Not Be Ordained For Ministry

By Paul Neeley

I’m not sure I understand it myself. I do know, however, that feelings about Mormons go deep. I predict that if Romney is the Republican nominee, a lot of evangelicals will stay home in November, and very few will campaign enthusiastically for him. As evangelicals comprise much if not most of the Republican base, that’s a major problem. Republicans know it; that’s why they keep flocking to the latest anybody-but-Romney candidate.

But why do evangelicals dislike Mormons so much? It has something to do with envy. Mormons violate all the rules of orthodox Christian theology, and yet they outperform evangelicals on practically every point.

–They are not only pro-marriage and pro-family, they actually have a record of staying married.

–They are squeaky clean on drugs and alcohol, while evangelicals broadcast their concern about addictive substances but have skeletons in every family closet.

–They witness to their faith. Every time evangelicals see those boys with white shirts and ties walking in pairs through their neighborhood, they feel guilty that they aren’t witnessing themselves.

Those are the main point, but there are other reasons for jealousy:

— Mormons don’t have professional clergy. (Evangelicals profess the priesthood of all believers, but in reality are ruled by preachers.)

-Mormons boast an actual tourist magnet in the Salt Lake City temple complex. (Evangelicals love Disney World and have tried unsuccessfully to launch a Christian theme park to match it.)

Add it all up, and the short-haired, clean-cut Mormon boy who goes on a two-year mission trip to Guatemala and comes home to marry his sweetheart, produce babies, and join his dad’s construction company, is the son every evangelical dreams of. They’re living our dream, despite their heretical beliefs.  Most aggravating of all, they are nice.

For all these reasons and more, the winter solstice is a day I look forward to. On December 21, life stops getting worse and starts getting better. Yes, January is also cold and dark, but every morning the sun comes up slightly earlier and the day is infinitesimally longer. We are moving in the right direction, toward green shoots and singing birds, toward long summer evenings.

They say the church set Christmas at the winter solstice in order to borrow the prestige of a pagan holiday. If so it was a brilliant match. Christmas, after all, marks the day when Jesus was born. Before that day, the best we could hope for was to end up dead. Since that day, every day brings us closer to Summer. Christmas reminds me, as does winter solstice, that we have turned a corner.

Throughout the psalms you find poets who are miserably awake when they should be sleeping. For example:

I lie awake; I have become like a bird alone on a roof. 102:7

I am worn out from my groaning. All night long I flood my bed with weeping and drench my couch with tears. 6:6

When I was in distress, I sought the Lord; at night I stretched out untiring hands, and I would not be comforted. 77:2

My God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer, by night, but I find no rest. 22:2

However, the psalmists sometimes make better use of their wakefulness:

On my bed I remember you; I think of you through the watches of the night. 63:6

In the night, LORD, I remember your name. 119:55

My eyes stay open through the watches of the night, that I may meditate on your promises. 119:148

Tremble and do not sin; when you are on your beds, search your hearts and be silent. 4:4

Sometimes the best cure for anxious insomnia is faith:

In peace I will lie down and sleep. for you alone, LORD, make me dwell in safety. 4:8