Senior 44: Art, Oscar Wilde

So here's a reflection on the nature of art. As with many of my blogs lately, I am trying to write more and much of my writings have to do with my controversial musings. If anything sounds outrageous, unreasonable, or unduly dogmatic--please don't dismiss it, but talk to me about it. I try to be balanced in my reflections, but that doesn't always come across in the writing.

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By the way, I made it back safely from the Pacific University Undergraduate Philosophy Conference. I had a wonderful time and met some remarkable people. I'll write more about that in the future.

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Now turning to art:

Oscar Wilde fascinates and terrifies me. For my Victorian Literature class, I read his Preface to "Dorian Gray" along with an interview and transcripts from his court trial. The man was brilliant. He understood his times better than most and refused to acknowledge or conform to its modes of understanding--and for that he is terrifying.

In the first chapter of "Literary Theory," Marxist critic Terry Eagleton lays out a history of literature. Of course, one must be careful when an author's worldview is so evidently at the forefront of his writing (one must also be careful when it's hidden in the background), but much of what he said made good sense. What I especially appreciate is his treatment of the development of literature-as-art into its modern form.

Wilde, it seems, stands on a monumental turning point in the history of literature and art. He is famous for saying things like, "There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book," an idea that was contrary to the accepted opinion of his times. But it makes sense if you look at literature and art in the way that he sought to look at them.

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So in this reflection, I divide history into two halves. (Such a division can approximate truth in only the loosest sense, but it will be a useful distinction, I think. Moreover, my use of Wilde as representative of the shift is only convenient; I do not mean to imply that he was singly responsible by any means.) Prior to the era of Wilde (and his associates) art and literature was tied inextricably to culture and society. Music was part of religious rituals; songs communicated mythology; dance was part of worship; pictures were another way of preserving values and beliefs; and stories served very specific didatic and educational purposes.

The example of the visual arts is especially useful for highlighting these pertinent aspects. Masks represented or embodied deities and historical figures. Wall-paintings recorded history. Figures and images on pottery and household items also reflected shared identity. Sculptures and idols were objects of worship and veneration. Catacomb paintings, frescoes, and stained glass communicated important religious stories to the illiterate. Decorations and embellishments were indicative of wealth or social status. Even when art became more individual (e.g. in the Renaissance), it still served very particular purposes. It represented an individual's story and eminence as opposed to a group's or society's.

Consider the criticism that is sometimes leveled against displaying or viewing "art" pieces from native American, aboriginal, or other tribal peoples: these "artifacts" were intended to be used in ceremonies and rituals; to view them behind glass, or as just oddities to look at, somehow does violence to them and their purpose. Implicit in this criticism is a recognition of the close relationship between the "art" of these peoples and their culture, religion, values, etc.

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Now consider the radical shift that has taken place and the way we treat art in the modern world. We construct huge buildings with lots of blank walls in order to hang pictures in as austere and sterile an environment as possible. A conscious effort has been made, it seems, to divorce art from culture. No longer is the culture considered, or even the patron, or even the viewer, but only the artist.

In Wilde's interviews, he constantly and carefully draws the distinction between the "beauty" of an art piece and the "morality" of an art piece; he categorically refuses to comment on the latter. In his court trial, it is manifestly evident that the prosecuting attorney does not understand where Wilde is coming from; as it is manifestly evident that Wilde understands the attorney's views better than he does, and rejects them.

But what does it mean to remove art from culture? Suddenly, the vocabulary of the culture becomes completely useless and ineffectual for describing it, evaluating it, or speaking about it. One must invent a whole new vocabulary for evaluating "art" without reference to anything but art. Is that possible?

(Another clarification: museum art is not, properly speaking, devoid of culture. It just is a culture in which art pieces are hung on blank walls in big buildings. But notice how far removed that is from the day-to-day life of the people. That is the issue I am concerned with and what I mean that art has been divorced from culture.)

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Two questions emerge from these considerations. Firstly, is art really ever divorced from the larger cultural, historical, and social contexts? And secondly, should it be.

(1) Have you ever been in an art gallery and just been thoroughly confused? Have you ever looked at "great art" and thought it looked like a pile of junk? Have you ever seen a pile of junk displayed as art? Wilde asserts that art is for the artist alone. Whatever another person may see in or get out of an art piece reflects him or her and never the artist or the art piece. Do you see that trend in contemporary art?

Consider the connection between classical art music composers and composers in the post-modern era. There seems to be almost nothing in common between them. "But," the aesthete may reply, "are you evaluating them in terms of your own culture or on the proper criteria of 'art.'" But what standard could one hope to construct for judging them alongside one another?

We are constantly compelled, it seems, to "appreciate" art that we can't understand. We can't understand it because it has nothing to do with either us or our culture. If we could understand it then it wouldn't be art. So we are forced to "appreciate" it on the authority of individuals who are qualified to judge art on its own merits, without bias. But is that even possible? Who can really separate themselves so completely--step out of themselves so thoroughly as to judge art by an inhuman standard? Who can create art that has no connection to culture or history. I don't think anyone can; and so we continue to find meaning in work and criticize it or praise it according to our interpretation, while the artists and critics jump up and down in the background, angrily declaiming our naive philistinism.

(2) Of course, just because we can't seem to reach this "ideal," is that any reason to stop pursuing it? We don't seem to be able to attain moral perfection or perfect rationality, but is that any reason to stop trying? On the other hand, it is not the pure unattainability of a thing that makes it worth pursuing. What then are we pursuing? One possible answer is this: we are pursuing the fullness of human and personal perfection. I wrote in my last blog about how human beings find themselves in tension; there is a constant pull and draw toward animality that we must constantly fight against. In a very real sense, as we are, we are not fully human and must strive toward maturity and perfection. The pursuit of moral and rational perfection are part of this. Only a truly good person and rational person is fully human. (And by the way, for those who might be worried, perfect rationality does not come at the expense of emotion or personability.)

But where does art come into this. Is it constructive to this perfect human end that art be divorced completely from our humanity, in all its personal and social character? I think not. Divorcing art from humanity might be appropriate for a non-human, but its not a reasonable goal for the human artist. Trying to become other than human is, perhaps, one of the silliest things a person can do. (It would be laughable if not so seriously detrimental.

The perfected human will express him or herself creatively and artistically; I think that there is no doubt about this point. Let us, therefore, take seriously this pursuit, pour ourselves into it, strive after it with all gusto and vigor; but do not make it an idol. Do not confuse what is a part for the whole and thereby destroy what is truly good when found in its proper context.

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Some will think that my view of art is extremely narrow. Let me point out that the above material does not represent my fully-formed opinions. Among other things, I would need to get actual historical evidence to support my various conjectures. At this point, conjecture and musing is all this is.

But let me suggest that it is appropriate to accept certain limits on our abilities and aspirations. We like to talk as if we can achieve or do anything, but that simply is not the case. And if my saying that a person cannot be a squirrel or a brussels sprout or other than human is to limit and oppress him, I say that I cannot, in good conscience, do other than just that.

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Many thanks to the faithful readers who actually read through my various thoughts.

Blessings all,

--

God is in this place,
And that reality, seen and understood by the grace of God in Christ Jesus through the work of the Holy Spirit, makes all the difference in the world.

Senior 43: History and Human Nature

This is a peculiar blog reflection. I keep on trying to revise it and revise it and it's not really working out. So I'm posting it anyway. Part of its scatter-brain-ed-ness may have to do with the fact that its been put together during the most hectic time of the year. It also bears the distinction of having been originally authored in Southern California, and finally posted in Forest Grove, Oregon.

Yep, I'm in Oregon this weekend at Pacific University, presenting a paper at the school's Eleventh Annual Undergraduate Philosophy Conference. So I'm scatter-brained and seeking diversions and musing and generally running around like a chicken with its head cut off. (Maybe not quite that bad.) Anyhow, here's a reflection on history and human nature.

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History is fascinating. Philosophy can seem like a pointless endeavor that spins arguments in circles and gets trapped in miniscule debates, (admittedly, sometimes it is and does)--until you look at it in the context of history. Other disciplines like art, literature, and even science can get lost in the minutiae (the trees) if they are not viewed within a larger context (the forest). History is not the only relevant larger context, but I have found that it helps a great deal.

People in our modern era have a tendency to think that ours is a unique age, a novel and radical departure from the past. This has led many to disregard the lessons of history as irrelevant or inapplicable to current questions and problems. Now there are significant ways in which these times are distinctive and our troubles unique, but does that mean that history has nothing to teach us about them? I think not; in fact, I think that careful reflection reveals that basic human nature and the basic human problem have remained unchanged through the ages up to and including the present time.

Understanding history, then, is indispensable for understanding the present. (What else do we have to go on?) How is it that things have come to be as they are (either good or bad)? Here is one example--a point in ethics about which I have been thinking lately.

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I suppose that nobody likes being told that they are wrong, being reproved or corrected or rebuked. (Though Solomon suggests that the wise person appreciates all these things--Proverbs 9:8) But there is something curious about the character of the responses that are voiced these days; like, "You can't expect me to change. This is who I am," or "Why are you attacking me?" or "You just don't understand me." If the person is a Christian, he may say something like, "This is how God created me to be," or, "If God didn't want me to do this, then He wouldn't have given me that desire." And if these sorts of remarks are not stated explicitly, they are often in the background of people's thinking and reasoning.

The principle that seems to underly these statements is this: "The way I am is the way I'm supposed to be," or, "That which is natural to me is appropriate (or right) for me."

But what an odd way of thinking that is. And how unique in the history of humanity. Plato and Aristotle would have never accepted such notions. According to Plato's anthropology, the natural "passions" are ever threatening to overthrow the individual and must be strictly controlled by reason. Following the passions leads only to enslavement by them and reduction to the level of a brute beast. Any natural appetite--hunger, thirst, desire for love or community--can turn into a monster if it is not kept under control. And isn't this confirmed by experience? Don't we "naturally" desire the way of least resistance, and yet, what is there of virtue in that?

In Christianity, there is the concept of "total depravity"--that human beings have a broken nature, that they are out of phase with the rest of creation. Since humanity's natural desires have been corrupted (or been set off balance), just following one's instincts is the worst possible course one can take. And this is not to say that human beings have no good in them whatsoever; but just as a hunger for food--intended for the nourishment and sustenance of the body--can turn into voracious gluttony if unregulated, so the other appetites and tendencies in us, that are good when placed in proper order, become dangerous when not properly controlled.

Somehow we got the idea that being human ought to be easy--and this is true. (Are you surprised that I say that?) I doubt that a cat has difficulty being cat-like or a plant plant-like. And yet human beings are in this awkward place of having to fight to maintain our humanity--having to fight or else slip into craven animality. For the Christian, this is a sign, of the brokenness of humanity, and we look forward to a time when true human nature will be restored and we no longer have to fight to do what is right or good. So there is something right about this intuition that being a human being ought to be easy. But in accepting our present state as "the way we are" and, therefore, "the way we ought to be," we have erred critically.

How did we come to this point? Perhaps we can find a clue in the late seventeenth, early eighteenth centuries, in the philosophy of John Locke. (Now I realize that I have a tendency to rail against the seventeenth/eighteenth centuries, and against Locke in particular. I do not mean to place blame wholly on his shoulders, but his philosophy is useful for understanding the changing times; that is why I use him as my example.) Locke developed an epistemological model that rejected the traditionally held concept of innate ideas. He believed that no one naturally possesses knowledge of any truths. Instead, human beings enter the world as tabula rasae (blank slates). The implication of this would seem to be that human beings enter the world, in some way, neutral. They have no natural dispositions or tendencies but are perfectly malleable. The leap from denying innate knowledge to denying human nature is a relatively short one. As culture embraces naturalism, any objective criterion for evaluating acquired tendencies fades. And in Christian circles where an absolute denial of human nature may be a bit too hard to swallow, the practical consequences of its relativization can still be felt.

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There are few who would deny that present humanity is beset with myriad problems--social, psychological, political, mental, institutional, corporate, personal. And many seem to be looking for a new solution. But without a proper appreciation of history, of the ways in which our contemporary problems have emerged over the centuries as natural consequences of certain modes of thought, how can we expect to come to anything approaching a worthwhile solution? And by the way, I am not saying, naively, that the past is better than the present so that we should model our lives on the past. Past humanity had its own problems, but without history, all we will do is rehearse the same problems (and mistakenly think that they are new).

The examination of history is just the type of rational exercise, I think, that could contribute to the reining in of rampant carnality. Think about it.

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I'll say more about the philosophy conference later. By the way, Oregon is beautiful. The Pacific Northwest, generally, is beautiful. This is a very welcome break from hectic school.

Blessings all,

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God is in this place,
And that reality, seen and understood by the grace of God in Christ Jesus through the work of the Holy Spirit, makes all the difference in the world.

Senior 42: Worldview Discourse

I had a wonderfully engaging discussion with my friend, Sean, this week. He always asks very good questions and challenges me to work through my beliefs and reasoning processes.

At one point our discussion turned to worldviews and worldview-discourse. How is a Christian to deal with the existence of so many seemingly coherent, compelling, workable worldviews? On what basis can a Christian claim that her worldview is the only correct one? What sort of compelling argument along those lines could one make?

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Probably the first step is to clarify that the fact of so many extant worldviews does not make it more or less probable that any one worldview (or any number of particular worldviews) is either true or false. Underlying this view seems to be the mistaken assumption that in a world where there is one true worldview, that worldview would be the only one to be found among its inhabitants. But why should we be more likely to find uniformity of opinion where there is one truth than where there are many or no truths?

One might point to the uniformity of opinion in the world of mathematics or science. There is, after all, not much debate over whether four is the sum of two and two. But this is a fairly mundane truth. Even extreme anti-realists would not deny seemingly straight-forward truth-statements like, "This book is blue," or "I am typing on my laptop," within a confined and particular context. But at the level of worldview-discourse, as at the level of meta-mathematics or higher order scientific-epistemology, one finds very complex models and theories, none of which are self-evidently false, but many of which are mutually exclusive. And I would continue to maintain that the multiplicity of competing metaphysical theories does not imply (or even make probable) that none of them is true or that there is no true (in terms of actually describing reality) metaphysical theory.

There are any number of factors that may lead certain individuals to reject a "true" theory. Some of them are perfectly natural and understandable. Others are what epistemologists would describe as "culpable." But the fact of this multiplicity does not rule out the possibility of any one being true.

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The second step involves appreciating the nature of worldviews. They are theoretical structures that connect with the world at the level of experience. That is the first and most natural level for evaluating and critiquing them. Worldviews, after all, are not self-contained, internally consistent, systems only. Instead, they intersect with the world of our physical, social, and spiritual experiences. And the adequacy of a worldview to account for the variety of phenomena that we encounter in our day-to-day experiences, as well as over the course of our lives, can count for or against that worldview. People regularly have experiences that challenge their existing worldview and compel them to modify or discard aspects of their worldview; sometimes they are forced to chuck almost the entire structure.

In one of his lectures, Os Guinness (author of The Journey: Our Quest for Faith and Meaning), evaluates the different worldviews' approaches to the existence of "evil" in the world. John Mark Reynolds (Biola University) emphasizes that a coherent worldview must be able to make sense of both the hard sciences and the existence of art and beauty in human culture.

Evaluating the degree to which worldviews match up with the "real world" is a useful way of weeding out inadequate candidates. If a worldview denies that evil exists, against our natural intuitions and every-day experience, that is probably an inadequate worldview. If a worldview denies that life has meaning, against the testimony of our introspective self-understanding and most natural longings, that worldview is also probably inadequate. If, over the course of history, followers of a particular worldview have tended toward depression, suicide, or a general lack of well-being, that worldview is probably inadequate.

In this way, a number of worldviews can be pared away. Of course, there are those hard core academicians who will dig in their heals and argue that my decision to exclude certain worldviews for their 'inadequacy' just confirms that I am caught up in my own way of looking at the world and actually doesn't count against any other belief system. If we follow this line of argument, then my interlocutor and I will reach an impasse. If he wants to say that a worldview, the natural end of which is suicide, is just as "good" as one that leads to wholeness, wellness, and a positive life (in whatever way I choose to construe those terms), then it is very difficult for me to argue that one is better than the other, since he has emptied "good" of any coherent, objective meaning.

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At this point, two things should be said. First, I do not think that the average reflective individual, upon careful consideration, will find the relativist's to be a truly compelling position. Usually one has only to press on the right place and any person will acknowledge that some worldviews are better than others. Surely, we will find, he does not want to say that a worldview that condones torturing babies or supports George Bush's economic and foreign policies is good. And second, if we reach an impasse where the conflict cannot be resolved at the level of worldview discourse, one must look for an answer on some different level.

At the level of worldview discourse, we may talk about beliefs and metanarratives and values and propositions. But we have already hinted at a realm--that of experience--that transcends the realm of worldview discourse and, to some degree, can pass judgment on the adequacy of any particular worldview system. There is a general consensus that any good worldview must account for our experiences; even if it denies their genuineness, it must furnish an explanation for why we have them at all.

But when it comes to defending the Christian worldview, there is one experience which trumps the lot--that of an interactive, dynamic, personal relationship with Jesus Christ.

And bottom line, that is what Christianity is about. Christianity is not about having a coherent worldview. We already said, there are any number of coherent worldviews available that account for (the majority of) our physical and social experiences. But not all worldviews account for our spiritual experiences and only one worldview accounts adequately for the experience of the power and person of the risen Savior, Jesus Christ.

For a person who has an interactive relationship with Jesus Christ, a coherent worldview will follow quite naturally. The important thing, though, just is that personal relationship. That is a level that transcends worldview discourse (though it also includes it).

So back to the question of how Christianity deals with the multiplicity of extant worldviews? How can it defend itself against the vast array of competing stories? The simple answer is that Christianity need not defend a worldview, but only need facilitate entry into an interactive relationship with God. The worldview follows from the relationship. It is not the worldview that is compelling, but the person behind the worldview that is compelling. (Of course, I'm not saying that worldview-discourse is useless; in fact, it is very, very useful, but it is not the ultimate point or goal to convince a person to buy into just a worldview.)

In evangelizing or defending the Christian faith, it is easy to get bogged down in discussions of worldviews and doctrines. Similarly, in Christian practice, it is easy to get bogged down in liturgy and discipline. In each of these cases, the particular element is valuable, but only when properly integrated with that all-important relationship. Liturgy makes sense when properly related to the Jesus who is worshipped during the church service. And discipline makes sense when employed in the service of strengthening one's relationship with God. Doctrines are valuable as they direct people toward the true God. And worldviews are helpful for understanding how our relationship with God connects with the rest of our actions and experiences in the world.

At the center is Jesus Christ. Without him, it all means nothing and is quite inefficacious. But his presence changes everything.

See also: "Senior 22: Pondering" (04 August 2006)

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I have submitted my formal acceptance to the Doctoral Program in Philosophy at the University of California, Riverside. At some point this summer, I'll be moving out to Riverside (probably just in time for the August-September Roast. (Sigh.) But I am very excited.

Blessings all,

--

God is in this place,
And that reality, seen and understood by the grace of God in Christ Jesus through the work of the Holy Spirit, makes all the difference in the world.

Senior 41: Premarital Sex

Is that a provocative title or what?

Don't worry, I'm not just trying to grab the attention of roving web-surfers. Neither should this be taken as indicative of a sweeping thematic or programatic change in the blog-agenda.

A friend recently asked me about Christian teaching of sexual abstinence before marriage. It's a pretty universally-accepted principle in traditional Christian ethics, but where does the idea come from? Does it come from the Bible?

I set about formulating an answer to his question and decided to post my response. It should be noted that, as part of my response, I attempt to describe something of the nature of sex and marriage--something I don't think I'm really qualified to do. So let that serve as a disclaimer. I have tried to take Scripture, apply the teaching I have received and my critical thinking, and craft a well-written, well-reasoned answer to the question. Here it is.

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Alrighty, let's see. Well obviously there is no eleventh commandment--thou shalt not engage in pre-marital sex--in the Bible; but I think if we look at the Bible's attitude toward marriage and sex, and think carefully about these issues, we can see how the idea of abstinence before marriage emerges very naturally as a wise and judicious way to conduct oneself in relationships.

Marriage is established all the way back at the very beginning of human history when God creates Adam and Eve: "For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh." (Genesis 2:24)

This becoming one flesh, the consummation of the marriage covenant, is expressed mysteriously in sexual intercourse. With sex comes the formation of a deeply significant, personal and intimate, physical and spiritual bond intended by God to bring two people into oneness. How serious is this bond? Consider Jesus' words when speaking about divorce: "So they are no longer two, but one flesh. What therefore God has joined together, let no man separate." (Matthew 19:6) Dr. Sumner (APU School of Theology) has taken that passage and Paul's imagery (in Ephesians) of the man as the head and the woman as the body to paint a picture of divorce as decapitation. Marriage is that serious in terms of the transformation that it works on the two lives, making them one.

Paul writes in his first letter to the Corinthians, "Flee (sexual) immorality. Every other sin that a man commits is outside the body, but the immoral man sins against his own body." (6:19) This is another passage that underscores the significance of the sexual act; it's not something that one treats glibbly but has powerful and serious consequences, either good or bad depending on the context.

The sanctity of marriage is treated very seriously throughout Scripture. There are many, many commands in both the Old and New Testaments against adultery--i.e. violating the covenant of marriage. One such Scripture passage to consider is Hebrews 13:4. "Marriage is to be held in honor among all, and the marriage bed is to be undefiled; for fornicators and adulterers God will judge."

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Let's take the information we've gathered so far about sex and marriage and see how it applies to the question of pre-marital sex. It seems to me that there are two broad approaches--one can treat sex casually or one can take it seriously.

Now given what we've learned about the significance of the sexual act, it seems pretty clear that the person who treats it casually--who is willing to have sex with multiple partners, etc.--is just plain wrong and seriously misunderstands the nature of sex. (I think we can find ample evidence in our own present culture--in broken lives, shattered relationships, bitterness and betrayal and pain--that failing to take sex seriously is extremely harmful.)

But what of the other approach--what of the person who does take sex seriously? Well, it seems to me, that if one is so in love with another person that he desires and is willing to enter into that most intimate of human bonds; to join in that mysterious, deeply spiritual, union; to, with that person, become ONE flesh; then marriage simply is the most natural step. Marriage is the formal signification (in community) of two people's commitments to one another and their mutual desire for oneness that is consummated in sex.

The way God seems to have laid things out, sex is inseparable from marriage; sex is the consummation of marriage. To separate the two is just to misunderstand their respective natures and interrelationships. So even though no command against sex before marriage is presented in Scripture in so many words (at least I can't think of one off the top of my head), abstinence makes the most sense of Biblical views of sex and marriage.

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What an interesting reflection to write.

Blessings all,

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God is in this place, and that reality, seen and understood by the grace of God in Christ Jesus through the work of the Holy Spirit makes all the difference in the world.

Senior 40: Christian Community

This week I read Dietrich Bonhoeffer's Life Together. It was amazing.

Recently (actually throughout my time at APU, but especially in the last week or two) I have been thinking about the Church and Christian community. There is a great deal of disillusionment and frustration with its various faults, failings, impoverishment, and impotence. Many look at the Church in its present broken condition and mistakenly conclude that that is an accurate reflection of the Christian concept of community. They then reject "Christian community" and look for something else. Unfortunately, what they have rejected is not genuine Christian community, and by abandoning the Church, they have cut themselves off from the fellowship of faith. Dallas Willard reminds us that the Church is the natural outgrowth and expression and vehicle of God's grace moving in the world. And if the Church is the body of Christ as the Apostle Paul says, then cutting oneself off from that can lead to no better end than that of a finger or toe that is severed from a physical body.

Bohoeffer reminds the reader of the true nature and character of Christian community. His words were wonderfully refreshing, encouraging, and challenging to me. Here are some of my favorite passages (underlined in my copy).

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"It is by the grace of God that a congregation is permitted to gather visibly in this world to share God's Word and sacrament. Not all Christians receive this blessing. The imprisoned, the sick, the scattered lonely, the proclaimers of the Gospel in heathen lands stand alone. They know that visible fellowship is a blessing." (18)

It was almost a shock to read this, and yet it's such an obvious point. Christians spend so much time complaining about the Christian community--I find myself criticizing, critiquing, and evaluating it--and we forget what a privilege it is to be able to meet with other believers at all. How would it change me if I reminded myself of that every Sunday before church? How would it change the faith community?

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"The physical presence of other Christians is a source of incomparable joy and strength to the believer. Longingly the imprisoned apostle Paul calls his "dearly beloved son inn the faith," Timothy, to come to him in prison in the last days of his life; he would see him again and have him near." (19)

"The believer feels no shame, as though he were still living too much in the flesh, when he years for the physical presence of other Christians." (19)

The second quote about feeling no shame also struck me. I think Christian community must look a bit strange to the outside world, but the members should not feel shame. This is not so much a problem at APU, I think, but something to be mindful of.

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"Visitor and visited in loneliness recognize in each other the Christ who is present in the body; they receive and meet each other as one meets the Lord, in reverence, humility, and joy. They receive each other's benedictions as the benediction of the Lord Jesus Christ." (20)

"Therefore, the Christian needs another Christian who speaks God's Word to him. He needs him again and again when he becomes uncertain and discouraged, for by himself he cannot help himself without belying the truth." (23)

I am indebted to a number of people (professors and students) who have been Jesus Christ to me over the past four years. And it is my joy to speak the blessings and truth of Jesus Christ to others (albeit often sloppily and haltingly).

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"How can God entrust great things to one who will not thankfully receive from Him the little things? If we do not give thanks daily for the Christian fellowship in which we have been placed, even where there is no great experience, no discoverable riches, but much weakness, small faith, and difficulty; if on the contrary, we only keep complaining to God that everything is so paltry and petty, so far from what we expected, then we hinder God from letting our fellowship grow according to the measure and riches which are there for us all in Jesus Christ." (29)

Every now and then I need a reminder of just how richly God has blessed me. I also need to remember that my tangible, external, empirical experience is not always the best judge of spiritual things. This point segues well into the next quote:

"What may appear weak and trifling to us may be great and glorious to God. Just as the Christian should not be constantly feeling his spiritual pulse, so, too, the Christian community has not been given to us by God for us to be constantly taking its temperature. The more thankfully we daily receive what is given to us, the more surely and steadily will fellowship increase and grow from day to day as God pleases.

"Christian brotherhood is not an ideal which we must realize; it is rather a reality created by God in Christ in which we may participate. The more clearly we learn to recognize that the ground and strength and promise of all our fellowship is in Jesus Christ alone, the more serenely shall we think of our fellowship and pray and hope for it." (30)

One of the hardest things to do is to follow God wholly and trust the results completely to Him. We want to see the fruits of our labors. We want to know that we're making progress. But when we focus on our progress or condition too much, we wind up taking our eyes off Jesus.

(A peculiar analogy to Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle in Quantum Physics comes to mind. According to this principle, for a given particle, a researcher can accurately identify either its speed or its position, but not both simultaneously. Sometimes Christian's focus too much on their position--where they are, how their doing--and lose sight of what their doing, i.e. following Jesus. There are problems with that analogy, but I thought it was interesting that it spontaneously occurred to me.)

What would it mean to focus on Jesus Christ, at the expense of ministry, the fight for justice, our love for people, helping the poor, our job, everything. Some would balk and call that grossly negligent. Many would be and are offended by Jesus' words in Luke 14:26.

And people should take seriously Jesus' warning to count the cost of discipleship. (Luke 14:27-33) No one should glibly, or on a whim, leave everything to follow Jesus; I doubt if anybody actually ever does. But it is not a blind faith that brings people to full and complete surrender before the Throne of Grace. And for those that "seek first His kingdom and His righteousness," Jesus assures, "all these things will be added to you" as well. (Matthew 6:33)

A radical reorientation--reversal, actually--is necessary if we are to find our place in God's world. And let us be clear, it is God's world.

"It is not that God is the spectator and sharer of our present life, howsoever important that is; but rather that we are the reverent listeners and participants in God's action in the sacred story, the history of the Christ on earth. And only in so far as we are there, is God with us today also." (53-54)

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Bonhoeffer goes on to write about prayer and Bible study and spiritual disciplines and ministry, bringing new vitality to these and other familiar practices by examining them in the light of God's reality.

Oh, by the way, Bonhoeffer has another important Christian classic to his name, The Cost of Discipleship, if you want to read still more on this. That book is next on my reading list.

Blessings all,

(P.S. It suddenly occurs to me that if Bonhoeffer is correct, than I may have to retract or better qualify my statement in the second paragraph about it not being genuine Christian community that people are rejecting. Hmm... I shall have to think on that. That's the joy of posting works in progress.)

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God is in this place,
And that reality, seen and understood by the grace of God in Christ Jesus through the work of the Holy Spirit, makes all the difference in the world.

Senior 39: Justice

My friend, Christy, and I have been encouraging one another to write more. My blog ought to furnish an ideal setting for doing just that. (But there's so much drafting and revising involved.) Anyhow, here's something more of what I've been thinking about:

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So I have been wrestling with the concept of justice lately. In my theology classes we have been evaluating just war theory and contemporary models of just peace-making. I recently attended All-Saints Episcopal Church in Pasadena, a strongly activist faith-community. And I regularly interact with many students who are very passionate about social justice.

I do not tend toward activism, myself. I often find myself unable to support or condone certain movements and organizations because of their dubious stand on (peripheral) moral or ethical issues that I believe to be important, even if I support the main thrust of their position. But this leaves me in the awkward position of not actively participating in the fight against known and recognized injustices.

The two horns of my dilemma may be generalized and expressed as follows: Shall I tend toward conservatism, refuse to act until I have evaluated all aspects of the question-at-issue, think carefully, critically, and thoroughly before acting, and thereby risk allowing known injustices to continue while I try to sort out these complicated questions? Or shall I move toward progressivism, act where I see a need, step out into the fray, combat evil where it manifests itself, and thereby risk moving in a slightly skewed trajectory and excess in order to confront a recognized injustice?

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This weekend, I saw the new Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie with some friends. As the film opens, the turtle brothers are divided. Leonardo has just returned from a year-long stint of training in the jungles of Central America. In his absence, Raphael has secretly gone vigilante--fighting crime on his own against the instructions of Master Splinter who insists that if they will not fight as a brotherhood, then the four are not to fight at all. Raph is unwilling to sit by and allow criminals to rule the city. Criminals don't take vacations, he reasons. If the team will not serve its purpose, then he will take matters into his own hands. Eventually he recognizes the error of his way and the team becomes fully united and able to defeat the threat to their city (actually, the world).

The film moves toward articulating a very important truth. That doing good and right is about more than just beating the bad guys. If the brothers are not a cohesive team, that does not just detract from their effectiveness as crime-fighters; it also evinces a more fundamental and deep-seated injustice. "Justice," in this context should be understood as the ancient Greeks might have understood it, as referring to well-being, wholeness, and balance. True justice and goodness and rightness are not just about an external state of affairs, but about character. And here we arrive at one of those simple truths that are so easily forgotten or overlooked--it's a lot harder to be good than to be bad. Being bad is a cinch. Being truly good takes time and effort and energy, and it will not always manifest itself in the ways we have come to expect.

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A more this-world example may be helpful here. I remember in my Worldviews Senior Seminar class a student who expressed frustration with the Christian response to the problems of homelessness and poverty in the American inner-city. (Loosely paraphrasing) "I would almost rather work for a non-Christian organization," she said, "where all their time and resources are actually spent helping the poor. It seems that so much time is wasted in Christian organizations with prayer meetings and Bible studies and not enough is spent actually helping the poor."

I can sympathize with that sentiment and feel the frustration there expressed, but I think that it is mistaken. The basic assumption underlying this complaint is that the primary purpose of Christian organizations is to aid, economically or in other tangible ways, the impoverished and needy. Certainly that is an aim, but the Christian is concerned primarily with something far deeper and more fundamental. Wholeness and wellness are not tied to physical or other external circumstances, to governmental policies, popular opinion, mass media, the economy, any of these things. True justice comes only with the internal transformation of the human spirit into Christ-likeness.

Biblical scholars will point out that even Jesus was not primarily a social reformer. He did not speak out against Roman oppression, the place of women and slaves in society, the wickedness of corrupt tax-collectors. In fact his three-year-long active ministry touched only a very small region in the Middle East, but the impact of what He started has since been felt the world-over. He did not focus on tearing down repressive systems. Instead, he met individuals in the place of their deepest need and brought healing and nourishment. In doing so, he brought justice (balance, wholeness, wellness) to people's lives.

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At the beginning of this piece, I described my 'awkward' position. The awkwardness seems to arise from my changing view of justice, along the lines that I've described thus far. Now I do believe that human beings are capable of understanding justice; this is part of our having been created in the image of God and the general revelation. But I worry that even Christians who pursue justice with noble intentions have missed the point and are chasing after an idol. C.S. Lewis describes something similar about misplaced love in the eleventh chapter of The Great Divorce. In that book, Lewis is transported to the afterlife where he sees visions of the deceased as they are offered admittance to heaven, many of them refusing it.

He sees one mother who, in her past life, was consumed by selfish love for her son who died at a young age. If she will only relinquish her selfish love and acknowledge how misguided she was in life to be so consumed by bitterness, she could see him. But she refuses. As Lewis and his teacher/guide, George MacDonald, leave the scene, Lewis asks, "Is there any hope for her, Sir?"

"Aye, there's some. What she calls her love for her son has turned into a poor, prickly, astringent sort of thing. But there's still a wee spark of something that's not just herself in it. That might be blown into a flame [of true love].'

'Then some natural feelings are really better than others--I mean, are a better starting-point for the real thing?'

'Better and worse. There's something in natural affection which will lead it on to eternal love more easily than natural appetite could be led on. But there's also something in it which makes it easier to stop at the natural level and mistake it for the heavenly. Brass is mistaken for gold more easily than clay is. And if it finally refuses conversion its corruption will be worse than the corruption of what ye call the lower passions. It is a stronger angel, and therefore, when it falls, a fiercer devil.

'...Someone must say in general what's been unsaid among you this many a year: that love, as mortals understand the word, isn't enough. Every natural love will rise again and live forever in this country [i.e. Heaven]; but none will rise again until it has been buried.

'There is but one good; that is God. Everything else is good when it looks to Him and bad when it turns from Him. And the higher and mightier it is in the natural order, the more demoniac it will be if it rebels. ... The false religion of lust is baser than the false religion of mother-love or patriotism or art: but lust is less likely to be made into a religion.'

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My worry is that many Christians are pursuing a kind of justice--let me reiterate, it IS a kind of justice--but in their zeal and fervor have lost sight of true justice which comes only through Jesus Christ. Even as I write these hard words, I feel Lewis' protest within me: "I don't know that I dare repeat this on Earth, Sir. They'd say I was inhuman: they'd say I believed in total depravity: they'd say I was attacking the best and the holiest things."

Am I content with injustice?--some may ask. Will I turn a blind eye to evil and suffering? Certainly not, and let me emphasize that what I have said is not to be taken as license to do nothing. We must all, alike, pursue justice. But justice is not an abstract moral concept or a descriptor for a certain state of human affairs. It is an integrated part of the character of Jesus Christ. Only the truly transformed individual can align himself with the real and present justice that exists in God's nature and from that nature, alone, derives.

It will not surprise me if the world looks at this sort of Christianity and judges it ineffectual. The way of Jesus is not the way of the world. It requires faith--that GOD will accomplish His work (not that I will accomplish His work, but that HE will accomplish His work) if I follow Him faithfully.

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One final point: I have focused (as I usually do) on the internal nature of this transformation. "But," one may ask, "doesn't this transformation also become manifest externally." Absolutely. This piece should not be read as an indictment against any particular activist. In identifying the crux of the issue with the internal character and disposition of the individual, I have effectively moved it into a realm on which I cannot comment (without some special revelation that I do not have at this time). Each individual must examine her own heart and evaluate her own priorities and objectives. Better yet, the Lord must reveal to her her true inner nature. All I have attempted to do is point us toward true justice and clarify some of the important distinctions.

*Oh, and if I'm right, then there really are no "peripheral" moral and ethical issues.

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This week is Easter Break. So I'm enjoying a slightly more relaxed pace.

Within the next week or two I will make an official post about what graduate school I'll be attending. Unfortunately, I was not accepted to either Notre Dame or Rutgers. Most likely I will be moving just an hour east of my current location to UC Riverside. (Still close to family and friends--yay!) I'll let you all know officially when the time comes.

Blessings all,