Giving our communal ancestors seats at the table

Wrote this for CalvininCommon.org in a discussion about Bishop Spong’s complaint about the church looking back to the 1st century all the time.

I’m working on my Acts 11 sermon while Bont’s Spong comments rumble around in the background of my imagination as I read Willimon’s comments on the text. According to Luke (even many critical scholars regard 11:19-26 as having some historical solidity about it) this new Jesus thing had gotten way out in front of what the apostles in Jerusalem imagined it should be. You’ve got unwashed Gentiles in important cities like Caesarea and Antioch experiencing spirit manifestations and calling Jesus Lord. Some undoubtedly were uncircumcised regular attenders in synagogues while others were fresh in from who knows what temple or community from the “civilized” world. These could have been slave, or slave owning, polygamist or poly-amorous, rich or poor, with or without political connections, and they’re trying to get their imaginations around this resurrection that the group was asserting. Jews I imagine struggled with the notion that these folks were re-defining Yhwh. I can’t imagine what was bending the minds of Stoics, Epicureans, and who knows what else.

Jerusalem then sends Barnabas, someone not unfamiliar with life in the broader empire being a Levite from Cyprus who apparently had some personal wealth, at least enough to make a remembered donation.

Anyone with sufficient gray matter between the ears can of course redefine Christianity (or anything else) in any way they so chose. I might enjoy imagining Paul Spyksma sneaking off to exotic locations to participate in the ESPN World’s Strongest Man competition, but that’s just me. It seems, however, that very early on in this religion the community maintained a value of trying to connect their contemporary manifestations and struggles with what remains of the witness of their communal ancestors. Jesus, and the apostles reach back to the Hebrew Scriptures. Their pattern of submission as found in the New Testament is of course a bit curious to us, both in its reverence and its liberty of interpretation but judgments always belongs to the judgers. The book of Acts itself bears witness to some remarkable revisionism, but always with a certain degree of respect and responsibility to dead authors. It’s not a simple thing but it’s also not bad thing I think. pvk

Bertrand Russell’s Free Man’s Religion Quotations

Tim Keller used this in his sermon “Save in the Plan”. I found it to be a quote used by others. I’ll include the full paragraph.

Such, in outline, but even more purposeless, more void of meaning, is the world which Science presents for our belief. Amid such a world, if anywhere, our ideals henceforward must find a home. That man is the product of causes which had no prevision of the end they were achieving; that his origin, his growth, his hopes and fears, his loves and his beliefs, are but the outcome of accidental collocations of atoms; that no fire, no heroism, no intensity of thought and feeling, can preserve an individual life beyond the grave; that all the labours of the ages, all the devotion, all the inspiration, all the noonday brightness of human genius, are destined to extinction in the vast death of the solar system, and that the whole temple of Man’s achievement must inevitably be buried beneath the debris of a universe in ruins — all these things, if not quite beyond dispute, are yet so nearly certain, that no philosophy which rejects them can hope to stand. Only within the scaffolding of these truths, only on the firm foundation of unyielding despair, can the soul’s habitation henceforth be safely built.

It’s found in Russell’s brief piece “A Free Man’s Worship” and the entire piece is worth reading.

Given this world known to us through science, beneath some unjustified “ought” to limit us to this world, Russell outlines his religion. Towards the end there is also this paragraph that nicely relates it. The man was a good writer.

The life of Man, viewed outwardly, is but a small thing in comparison with the forces of Nature. The slave is doomed to worship Time and Fate and Death, because they are greater than anything he finds in himself, and because all his thoughts are of things which they devour. But, great as they are, to think of them greatly, to feel their passionless splendour, is greater still. And such thought makes us free men; we no longer bow before the inevitable in Oriental subjection, but we absorb it, and make it a part of ourselves. To abandon the struggle for private happiness, to expel all eagerness of temporary desire, to burn with passion for eternal things — this is emancipation, and this is the free man’s worship. And this liberation is effected by a contemplation of Fate; for Fate itself is subdued by the mind which leaves nothing to be purged by the purifying fire of Time.

United with his fellow-men by the strongest of all ties, the tie of a common doom, the free man finds that a new vision is with him always, shedding over every daily task the light of love. The life of Man is a long march through the night, surrounded by invisible forces, tortured by weariness and pain, towards a goal that few can hope to reach, and where none may tarry long. One by one, as they march, our comrades vanish from our sight, seized by the silent orders of omnipotent Death. Very brief is the time in which we can help them, in which their happiness or misery is decided. Be it ours to shed sunshine on their path, to lighten their sorrows by the balm of sympathy, to give them the pure joy of a never-tiring affection, to strengthen failing courage, to instil faith in hours of despair. Let us not weigh in grudging scales their merits and demerits, but let us think only of their need — of the sorrows, the difficulties, perhaps the blindnesses, that make the misery of their lives; let us remember that they are fellow-sufferers in the same darkness, actors in the same tragedy with ourselves. And so, when their day is over, when their good and their evil have become eternal by the immortality of the past, be it ours to feel that, where they suffered, where they failed, no deed of ours was the cause; but wherever a spark of the divine fire kindled in their hearts, we were ready with encouragement, with sympathy, with brave words in which high courage glowed.

Brief and powerless is Man’s life; on him and all his race the slow, sure doom falls pitiless and dark. Blind to good and evil, reckless of destruction, omnipotent matter rolls on its relentless way; for Man, condemned to-day [sic] to lose his dearest, to-morrow himself to pass through the gate of darkness, it remains only to cherish, ere yet the blow falls, the lofty thoughts that ennoble his little day; disdaining the coward terrors of the slave of Fate, to worship at the shrine that his own hands have built; undismayed by the empire of chance, to preserve a mind free from the wanton tyranny that rules his outward life; proudly defiant of the irresistible forces that tolerate, for a moment, his knowledge and his condemnation, to sustain alone, a weary but unyielding Atlas, the world that his own ideals have fashioned despite the trampling march of unconscious power.

Thoughts for a New Year

I’ve long quietly grumbled about the new year marker, vestigial paganism. It is good, however, to stop to ponder this journey that I walk often too mindlessly.

I’ve been around the sun 48 times now, seems like not many, but it also reminds me that we don’t do that many laps.

Many of my memories I can’t write, because they don’t just belong to me. Someday I might write more. That seems to be a gift given to those with more laps.

I think I have a better sense of the world than I did last year, both its joys and its griefs. I suspect I could have said that last year, and I’ll be able to say it again next year.

I like Rodney’s longings. I share a number of them both for him and from my own place and for my own place. I’m sure there are way more longings he has that aren’t appropriate to write about here.

I often realize I’m a poor steward of the economy of time that I’ve been given. I seldom find, however, that the suggestions of others are always that helpful. Seeing clearly involves dealing with both distortion and perspective.

Living longer makes me hope more firmly in the resurrection because if it is not true then the losses by the age of decay are simply too grim to tolerate.

I’m cheered by existence itself in this because why should things exist at all if there be no meaning to it and no memory to preserve its enjoyment?

I don’t know how the resurrection will be managed, but I do long for the losses of this world to be undone. pvk

Chesterton Quote on Happiness

If our life is ever really as beautiful as a fairy-tale, we shall have to remember that all the beauty of a fairy-tale lies in this: that the prince has a wonder which just stops short of being fear. If he is afraid of the giant, there is an end of him; but also if he is not astonished at the giant, there is an end of the fairy-tale. The whole point depends upon his being at once humble enough to wonder, and haughty enough to defy. So our attitude to the giant of the world must not merely be increasing delicacy or increasing contempt: it must be one particular proportion of the two–which is exactly right.

We must have in us enough reverence for all things outside us to make us tread fearfully on the grass. We must also have enough disdain for all things outside us, to make us, on due occasion, spit at the stars. Yet these two things (if we are to be good or happy) must be combined, not in any combination, but in one particular combination. The perfect happiness of men on the earth (if it ever comes) will not be a flat and solid thing, like the satisfaction of animals. It will be an exact and perilous balance; like that of a desperate romance. Man must have just enough faith in himself to have adventures, and just enough doubt of himself to enjoy them.

Chesterton, G. K. (Gilbert Keith) (2009-10-04). Orthodoxy (p. 75). Public Domain Books. Kindle Edition.

Plantinga Dennett Debate

A few links on Alvin Plantinga:

NY Times piece on Plantinga’s book.

Transcript of Plantinga’s paper and Dennett’s comments 

YouTube version of the same recording of Plantinga’s paper and Dennett’s comments. 

Will New Brain Science Encourage Calvinists?

Scot McKnight is doing some blogging on Calvinism. He kicks off the series with this piece on Roger Olson saying this: Roger Olson is right: at the heart of the debate between Calvinism and Arminianism (or non-Calvinism) is this question: Is grace resistible or irresistible?

As I’ve mentioned before I read the book “Incognito: The Secret Lives of the Brain” and mull some of it over as I read different things. At the heart of the contention of the book is the our decision making process lies mostly beneath the level of our consciousness. McKnight himself alludes to something like this in his history of his relationship with Calvinism.  We choose things for reasons we seldom fully fathom or appreciate.

I remember pondering this thought years ago as I took a class on justified belief at Calvin College with Nicholas Woltersdorff. We believe what we believe because we believe it. “Incognito” has some fascinating passages about how the brain develops narratives to justify beliefs even if those justifying narratives are complete fabrications by the brain.

The implication of some of this brain science it seems to me casts doubt on some of our conventional wisdom as to what a mental decision really is.

Short of a fuller treatment of the book that I’d like to write, one of the best ways of assimilating some of what is being proposed in this book, and resisting the blunt assertion of the book that “blameworthiness” is a completely obsolete concept rests in understanding that a human being is distinct but not isolated from an entire system. Beliefs are not fully our slaves, but we are subject to them.

This seems not a radical idea, obviously. We value belief based on experience outside of ourselves but what the book highlights is that the relationship between experience and belief is hardly as straightforward as we like to imagine. Accounting for what we find ourselves believing seems like something we’ll have little certainty about.

To cut to the chase here, I imagine that brain science will on the whole likely bolster the Calvinist position over the Arminian one as the ontology of decision continues to come under assault. Our decisions are far less free, perhaps, than we imagine.

Believing in Climate Change, Believing in Jesus

I’ve been pondering the correlations between the climate change discussions and religious discussions.

1. Most people arrive at their position depending upon relationships with people they trust.

Climate change, as well as many religious issues, is so large and esoteric that the vast majority of people are not in a position to come to a conclusion based on empirical evidence. They can read the pro or con position into just about anything they see affirming whatever position they embrace. They simply operate out of an extended network of trust relationships. Because a group of people that they align with believes one way on the issue (along with complex web of other issues and positions on various fronts) they side with them or at least give them the benefit of the doubt.

2. Both discussions are considered by their adherents as being “ultimate”

Many consider ignoring climate change concern as “global suicide”. You won’t hear language dissimilar to that from many Christians regarding moral issues, adherence to Jesus as Lord, etc.

Is this a helpful observation? pvk

Evolution and Intent

I’m reading Alvin Plantinga’s latest book on the relationship between Christianity and evolution.

One of the thing that comes clear quickly is that much of the disagreement between believers in theistic evolution and those who assert that evolution not only entails atheism but demands it involves intent. The Christian claims that the process involved intent, the atheist claims it did not.

I have a couple of thoughts on that.

Intent itself is a very interesting thing both scientifically and pastorally. I just finished reading “Incognito” on the brain and part of what that book wishes to assert is that our conception of intent itself is rather illusory. We do things because the parts of our mind that are not accessible to conscious volition demand it and other parts of our mind create a narrative in which we imagine ourselves the free agents. What strikes me is an implicit suspicion on the part of materialism that intent by thinking creatures doesn’t exist at all. It would be interesting to explore the ramifications of such a position.

It is also interesting to me that a good deal of legal work, relational work, and pastoral work involves intent. If someone looses control of their car and careens into a crowd of people intent becomes a vital issue legally and pastorally.

If the 9/11 hijackers simply wished to hijack aircraft and hold them for ransom but were colossally bad pilots and by some incredible coincidence managed to plow their hijacked airliners into some of the most symbolic buildings in America we would remain upset but the incident would be viewed differently by many.

Intent is a crucial element of how we live our lives and how we view our world. A world without intent is somehow not interesting to us at all. It is enormously consequential for the relational level that we all value and find often of utmost importance to our identities.

Pastorally the question of God’s intent in many things comes quickly to the fore. Did the God intend that some evil which might devastate one’s family happen to us? People struggle to maintain their relationship with the God based on their perception of God’s intent. Every time there is a natural disaster with great loss of life the conversation surround God boils down to a question of intent. Did the God intend to kill that many people?

Lord’s Day 10 of the Heidelberg Catechism in fact is all about shaping expectations regarding intent. It is a naked assertion of the benevolent intentionality of the God. The assertion is that in fact this approach to our relationship with the God is more preferable than harboring suspicions regarding the God’s intent for our lives.

Many others, in fact walk away from belief in the God precisely over this matter.

An irony in all of this is the fact that even in our most mundane relationships intent is an enormously difficult thing for us to arrive at certainty within.

My sons play basketball, and they are fine players but they have spent their share of time on the bench. As a parent I have spent games speculating about the intent of the coach with respect to my son. I go around and around wondering about the coach’s intent.

Other significant relationships likewise live deeply within this economy. Was my spouse sending a message with some action? Was my parent or my child saying something with that look or refusing eye contact?

Presuming intent is a speculative business, one that we in fact are not very good at.

Religions as Communal Ulysses Contracts

Steve Jobs famously offered this advice in his 2005 Commencement Address at Stanford.

“Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people’s thinking.”

On one hand he very aptly summarized American expressive individualism. On the other it is a curiously self-referentially challenged statement. What he himself is offering here is dogma so if you were to apply his advice you’d be obliged to reject it.

In the book Incognito the author does a nice job talking about what philosophers call “A Ulysses Contract” Here’s the definition from Wikipedia

A Ulysses pact or Ulysses contract is a freely made decision that is designed and intended to bind oneself in the future. The term is used in medicine, especially in reference to advance directives (also known as living wills), where there is some controversy over whether a decision made by a person in one state of health should be considered binding upon that person when he or she is in a markedly different, usually worse, state of health.

Here’s the example offered in Incognito

These situations arise commonly in hospitals, when a patient, having just experienced a traumatic life change, such as losing a limb or a spouse, declares that she wants to die. She may demand, for example, that her doctors stop her dialysis or give her an overdose of morphine. Such cases typically go before ethics boards, and the boards usually decide the same thing: don’t let the patient die, because the future patient will eventually find a way to regain her emotional footing and reclaim happiness. The ethics board here acts simply as an advocate for the rational, long-term system, recognizing that the present context allows the intellect little voice against the emotions. Incognito: The Secret Lives of the Brain (David Eagleman) – Highlight Loc. 2084-89

He then adds his own bit of advice, one that should be used to balance Steve Job’s

The rule of thumb is this: when you cannot rely on your own rational systems, borrow someone else’s. Incognito: The Secret Lives of the Brain (David Eagleman) – Highlight Loc. 2091-93

A Ulysses contract limits a present self for the gamble of a benefit for a future self. Many religious and moral systems are in fact communal Ulysses systems. One of the things we pass down to children, or share with friends are broadly subscribed to Ulysses systems. We say “no” to something today in order to afford a potentially greater benefit in the future. We are stewarding our future selves.

Steve Jobs and the God-like Pursuit of Excellence

After a number of posts about Steve Jobs I’m sure some folks think I have a very negative fixation about the man. That isn’t true. I want to take a page from John Van Sloten’s book and do some reflecting on what the life and passion of Steve Jobs can teach us about God.

Walter Isaacson’s authorized biography makes it very clear that Jobs was a complex man, a seldom happy man, and a man who was very hard on those around him. The book is fully of many accounts where Jobs was mean, nasty, insulting, demeaning, rude, condescending and unconcerned about the feelings of others. The book also makes it clear that he was like this because of his ruthless pursuit of excellence. He sought excellence in design of the products his company produced, excellence in appearance, excellence in execution, excellence in design. He was a ruthless perfectionist and the reason he was able to make such a significant cultural contribution through Pixar and Apple was due to this pursuit.

At the end of the biography Isaacson takes stock of this. Could Jobs have made a dent in the universe if he hadn’t have been such a jerk? There were times when his relational shortcomings were counterproductive to his pursuit of excellence. He failed to face the fact that his reality distortion field couldn’t impact the physics of the antenna on the IPhone 4. Jobs himself in the biography tries to do some summing up of his life in evaluating ways he didn’t do right by some significant others, especially family members. In the end, however, he was committed to his view of perfection and saw it as his legacy.

Why should I connect this with the character of God? God is passionate and ruthless about the reclamation of his fallen creation. He is passionate and ruthless about the restoration of his image in ourselves. He takes risks, knocks heads, goes to extremes that we judge to be irresponsible and unreasonable but nothing will blunt his passion.

Fortunately this is not God’s only passion. He is also gracious, compassionate, patient, kind, gentle, and respectful, things Steve Jobs didn’t do well with.

Christian theology teaches that the creator God lavishes his gifts and his image on all of humanity for the good of humanity. This means that we reflect him in part, not the whole. In an exceptional person like Steve Jobs it’s helpful to reflect on what he received and reflected that helped him make the dent he did.