Shattering Construals

These days I am reading A Secular Age by Charles Taylor (the Canadian philosopher, not the one from Africa) and I am being enlightened, no question. It is changing how I see secular culture and giving me a 10,000 foot historical overview of the Latin church. I wouldn't say it is affecting my faith in Christ as much as it is revealing and clarifying the tensions present in the Catholic church and its teachings. I won't give examples here, as this would be trying to rewrite Taylor's scholarly essays. You'll find plenty of material in his first Chapter called Bulwarks of Belief.

As for secularity, the book is showing me perhaps why I see the world the way I do. I am a product of North America, circa 70s and 80s, having been shaped by its world view. So much of this is intrinsic to the formation my thinking that I could not easily critique why I think the way I do. I have had trouble trying to interpret my reading of Scripture over the years (both in the English and in Koine) and how this applies to modern life, only to realize that perhaps the folks from the bible wrote based on a cosmos principle that colored the way that their minds saw the heavens and the earth.

I have also had trouble trying to understand the apparent stability of the universe and of physical and chemical laws including complex systems (such as a healthy mind and the conception of physical life) irrespective of moral choice and action in contrast to the literature of the Old and New Testament Scriptures and the teachings of the church.

I know way too much (and for quite a long time by now, like since 12) for any naive belief to be truly sincere to God (I tried but I couldn't follow God based on blind belief). But why should I be blamed it? I can't return to the village after having visited Paris. It's time to take the bull by the horns and deal with these matters to gain perspective and make an informed judgment. After all, why has God given me faculties to inquire and investigate only to have these become the lubrication of a slippery slope into the lake of fire?

In my opinion critical thinking, reason, and clarity must be tools and not stymies to belief in the modern age. Hell, there's no going back for me! The cat's out of the bag. It is from here that I will continue my journey.

Pride: A Void that Grows

I am puzzled by the proud smugness and complacency exuded by some of the people I that have made my acquaintance throughout the days of my life. Their attitude of pure confidence, assuredness and competency in all things that they are involved with is awe-inspiring (no sarcasm intended). It would seem that pride respects no class of person, because that same confidence felt by the semi-literate high school brawler is the same one as the hard-working blue-collar family man and the same as the brilliant academic researcher, and so on.

I will try to dramatize these thoughts of mine to put them into perspective using odd examples. I’ll start with the first example…

In a schoolyard he clenches white his bleeding knuckles and strains to see the prize laying before him. Through the red blur of blood from the cut on his forehead, caused by a punch issued in desperation by his would be victim, can be seen a boy of solid build on the ground shaking, bloody, snotty; a muddy mess. The victor stands over his head and feels wave after wave of pride filling him with pleasure. Put into words he could be thinking:

<<… I am the strongest here; that prick deserved his beating; never mess with me; look at me everyone I’m on top; ha! Man, he feels pain now—good for him; it’s his justice; I delivered that shot to his head—everyone saw it; I am known now, my reputation is set; no one will mess with me; you all owe me your respect; I look down on you all…>>

Maybe this is a bit over the top, but bear with me for another example.

A stalwart 55-year-old elevator installer in perfect health has worked for 30-years and is ready to retire with a golden handshake, cashing out a year of accumulated holiday and sick leave, and topped with a rock-solid pension for life. His equally healthy yet beautiful 49-year-old wife took early retirement from the police force with a similar benefits package in order for the couple to begin a 6-month road trip across the USA and Canada. Ten years ago they had won a $500,000 jackpot during a casino trip in up-state New York. To add to their bounty, an investment tip from his employer netted them a 5-fold profit after a local-high tech start-up burst into the stars after a record-setting market IPO. Their house, a handsomely decorated manor (inherited from his mother) and full of antique furniture, showcases four acres of manicured waterfront property, including a large dock, and boat garage. A cottage nestled in central Ontario sooths the soul with it diamond-like reflection from the giant lake, dominated by three jet skis, and a twenty five-foot fishing boat and trailer keeps the family occupied during the sunny summer months of the year. Not to mention the sixty-foot motor coach, the late-model luxury sedan, that new SUV, and the restored vintage sports car with all the tools one could need. They share this with their four children with two grandchildren on the way (twins; a boy and a girl, healthy and strong). Put into words the couple if consumed with pride could be thinking:

<<..Look at us; See what we have built; God’s prosperity is smiling on us; Our hard work has paid off; God helps those who help themselves; Damn those lazy bastards; Screw those greedy prick bean counters taxing me to death—if they could tax the hairs on my ass they would send the tax man with tweezers ready to count; the poor who are lazy get what they deserve; probably drunk, junked up, and over sexed; don’t talk to me about giving hand-outs to these drags; get a friggen job you good for nothing scumbags; I have so much life left to live and enjoy (proof: my great grandmother is 110 and my grandmother ran a marathon last summer at 80! and they’re still going strong); we’re better than anyone in our neighborhood, better than those half-stock humans looking frail and decrepit only five years older than we are; look and see our superiority: my kid’s in police academy; the other kid’s a doctor; the smartest a scientist; and the best a business man; we’re the top stock in the town; everyone comes to us for advice; good for them, we know what’s best for them; they’re useless without us anyway; we’re the center of attention and for good reason they know it…>>

Harsh? Bizarre? Granted, most hard-working couples don’t share these sentiments. If they did, might the feelings of pride cause them to sputter some of this non-sense? Fully deluded their consciences flounder under the irresistible allure of the pleasure of pride. Yet the delight and enchantment bring with it a powerful temptation to incorrectly interpret their talent and social standing as some kind of license to pride. If my reader is still with me, you might like the next example.

Nobody could believe it! Before a panel of 25 globally selected music judges the precocious boy of 9 beat out every other competitor at the annual 20 Under 20 Royal Conservatory of Music competition with a heavenly rendition of Mozart’s 16th Sonata in C major. After mastering the masters of music, he was exposed at the age of 17 to visual arts and could not be stopped; one by one he knocked them down like straw men: symbolism, impressionism, post-impressionism, cubism, modern. Remind the curator at the Lennox Contemporary Arts Collection about this boy and you will force a divine chill through her spine as the images of shocking beauty momentarily fill her mind with ecstatic transcendence. Once her quivering lips return to their natural powers she will tell you that nothing shall ever approach the beauty of that boy’s work. Now a man of 22 he tired of the paintings, those galleries full of gawking critics moved to tears and handing him their hearts. Now he was seized by an unnatural motivation to excel and to conquer any subject that dare lay bare before his devouring mind. With ferocious desire he consumed the corpus of mathematics; the oeuvre of physics; the sum of theoretical astronomy; the fringes of science. Though it was not enough to limit himself the polymath decided to absorb philosophy comprising logic, esthetics, ethics, politics, and yes, that sweet, succulent, irresistible body called metaphysics. The calls kept coming in from MIT, Cambridge, and Paris. Join us, chair our team, and lead us to new horizons. At the age of 53 he had already won the Nobel Peace Prize 6 times. But there were problems. An edge began to sharpen within his soul carving out a void chasmed deeper with every concept, precept and method he discovered, developed, and assimilated from his studies and research. Lately that crater of pride began drawing to itself attention. Slowly at first, a tempting itch. Obliging he found he enjoyed it, and it began to ooze and fester filling more with pride slithering slime down the slippery walls of the chasm. He began to nurture this pool. Looking downward into it he saw himself reflected, bigger, more beautiful, beyond compare. He no longer saw other people for who they were and what they represented—i.e., the special unique creation of God—but as obstacles preventing his advancement and contenders threatening his academic hegemony. Our pool of pride takes on a life of its own and calls out “Come inside for a dip, you’ll like it here.” The irresistible waves of pleasure cause his knees to sink, and without control he stumbles into this pride drunk with intoxicant vapor. Looping with infinite regression the void grows and pride fills within it; the nothingness and emptiness produce the disintegration of the man.

Is it brash? OK, it might be. There are some coarser concepts that may need refinement. The point is that pride is unnatural and the opposite of creation. The more a person becomes pride filled, the more his humanity disappears and is replaced by the void. In the end one ceases to exist. The corollary, to be sure: being human and more alive is the goal of life and the opposite of pride.

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Product of My Environment or Enjoyment of my Product?

I've heard the argument that free-market capitalism relates to the common person in terms of "keeping up with the Jones'" a positive feedback loop ever increasing and expanding our consumption of materials, land, and human life force. Where vanity and power reflect purely the drive of material success. What is missing here is the drive of pleasure.

What I do not deny is that the current rate of environmental impact cannot be sustained indefinitely. This is true, but this is not what I want to address here now. And my reader is not to suspect that I have any secret motive against the most pervasive economic system. In my view the most successful and useful system of wealth generation and of techniques to raise mankind higher in knowledge and power over his environment.

As a member of this consumption-driven culture I have been manipulated greatly and tragically by the minds of powerful creative manipulators, armed with the most effective known methods for concentrating my desires onto the devices and services to which they have been tasked to sell me. As a child I was convinced to love plastic, metals, and cardboard more than flesh; meaning, my GI Joe figures, Hotwheels, games, and other toys would occupy a very large place in my heart. All of these things are meaningless to me now no matter how much I may have enjoyed, idolized, horded, fantasized, or fought over. Nonetheless I was (and still am) a product of my environment that cannot be denied.

Sure, many of these materialistic desired have evolved their way into my adult life and have found places within my expanding region of life experience. Categories within the priorities system that I have faciliated, where the rays of light shine down over these places stirring up interest within them as the sun shines down on the land to give growth to the plants below. I cannot always control which or how these desires are awakened, and through the clever synthesis of advertisers and marketing experts shine this light over these exposed regions of categories bringing to my awarness old and new desires. In other words, taking what I already know of products and services and inventing new ways for me to enjoy them.

OK, so enough with the self-diagnostics. The fact is that my body seeks after comfort and my mind after beauty. Things like greed, vanity, and competition are other sociological factors that

relate to consumerism. I supposed I could theorize that I am feeling more comfortable than you are (perhaps by measuring my blood pressure or by my unfurrowed brow?), or that my widget is more beautiful that yours (perhaps by taking a poll of 1500 respondents about what is beautiful?), but this is not what I am talking about here. Truly my quest is to seek out experiences or consult with wise council as to what would cater to my body and to my sense of beautiful. Who else would know better than others who have experienced these for themselves?

My first car was a comfortable and beautiful Chevy Cavalier, it had more curves than my 10-speed bicycle and was more more comfortable, especially while driving in the rain or snow. As a young man my experience with cars was limited and so anything was better than my bicycles. So there is a kind of inflation of requirements the older and more experienced one becomes. After the engine on my Cavalier blew I needed a reliable car and so I got a Honda Civic, then three years later I needed more power so I got a faster Civic, then 4 years later I needed more space so I got a Sonata, then 4 years later I expect I will inprove on the comfort and beauty for my next vehicle. It would be very difficult for me to go back to a small or inexpensive car knowing what I know of my expectations for comfort and beauty. Of course not everyone is impressed by cars, so this could be replaced by any such consumable object.

In summary, there is an increasing scale of demands placed on the consumer according to physical comfort and perceived beauty which increases up to a certain level for a given consumable.

As Jesus teaches me, even though my body contains vessels of delights that can store up pleasures (physical comforts and percieved beauty) these vessels will fairly quickly, and will deplete themselves leaving a void. These things are not meant to be ends within themselves, but are a part of what it means to be human. Ultimately education of the limitations of stimulation and perceptions are keys to wisdom.

Fed up with Dogmatism

My mind seems always tuned to prove some of the characteristics of God through the analogy of observed reality. I've always been a kind of doubting Thomas and find myself from time to time with shallow faith. It's easy for me to portray a brave face and simply assert that God is the author of creation, that he has a plan for me, that he loves his creation, that I can be saved, that I am persevering, etc. It is far more difficult to formulate a rationale (i.e., realization) for these assertions considering the obvious paradoxes of our world. I think it is intellectually dishonest for me to rely on assertion, i.e., blind faith, and to forgo the process of rigorously trying to understand the nature of the revealed God through his creation. To my credit, perhaps as a grace, I have been looking closely at the nature of things in order to extract any possible revelation that I can from the observable universe and the human beings of this world.

This method unfortunately has some disadvantages. First, it is very difficult to explain these reasons to others, because the language is limited (the words and analogies I can find in my repertoire to describe these reasons and the general depth of the material to consider). Second, I am seeing it more like a personal quest and not useful for the edification of others (although other truth seekers I've come across are perspicacious enough to engage in useful dialog). Third, it is contrary to dogmatism--this is where I can get into trouble with those who see the world as black and white, true and false, saved and damned.

To be sure, I believe all of the precepts of the Apostles' Creed. Yet, I cannot stop there; I feel the need to continue further speculation. This requires a steady diet of 'thought variety' of learning new points of view, new systems of thought, new opinion, new mantras, new knowledge; a greater wisdom. I can get into trouble if I say these words in earshot of dogmatists.

As a material being in a world made of stuff, dealing every day with stuff, being sustained through stuff, thinking about stuff, I would conclude justly that I have an inseparable bond with the material world--it sustains me, it teaches me, it guides me. I've got nothing else to go on; I should use it--this only makes sense! I think in concrete terms, things that I can see, things that I can understand, things that I am still trying to grasp (as far as I have experienced there has been no knowledge outside of my senses and of the a priori categories of knowledge). So far the angel Gabriel has not descended to my mind in order to correct idols (i.e., erroneous and heretical imagery I use to represent God as I pray to Him, and think about Him as I reflect the nature of God, etc), nor to correct any logical errors I am making, any misconceptions I have about God and others, etc. Yes, spirit is important, but I'm allowed my next breath so long as my heart beats and I draw oxygen to my lungs, hence my close relationship to matter and material things. How do I know that I am pleasing to God? I can get into trouble if I say these words in earshot of dogmatists.

I am also flesh, I wear clay shoes on my clay feet at church and outside of church. These are the shoes I've been given (Adam's broken covenant). I share this fashion--these clay shoes--with all of humanity. Yet the divinity of the invisible God is made visible through human beings. These humans are the "last mile" so-to-speak from heaven and the ones we must work with everyday of our lives. To do so properly requires a realistic understanding of humans, the ones living here, far away from here, and in past eras, even these whose religions and worldviews are not the same as mine. Again I can get into trouble if I say these words in earshot of dogmatists.

I will necessarily need to venture outside the circle of received wisdom. I live in universe of plenitude--trillions different things located in different regions within space-time, each having different quantities and qualities; I see a plenitude cultures--hundreds of civilizations spanning thousands of years; I see a plenitude of people--each unique, each his own person, each a special creation; I see plenitude of apparently contradicting worldviews and thought systems.

I am fully fed up with typical programmed biblical responses from the dogmatists, whose straight-jacket thinking and myopic view of reality precludes the possibility of truth outside the 31,000 verses of Scripture. A one-size-fits-all approach constrains the possibilities and does not comport with reality.

Sick Children: What’s the Rationale?

I have struggled and will continue to struggle with the existence of illness, disease, and genetic mutation that fill a child’s life with torture and sadness. It is a powerful stumbling block to the critical thinker, and a strong barrier to belief when no reasonable perspective is found to hold God harmless.

So what can we make of the case that the Christian God would allow these little ones to suffer, when it is clear that Jesus so loved the children that a person caught corrupting one should be tossed into the sea pulled down by a neck-roped millstone?

Childhood is a critical time, and the fulcrum between spiritual life and spiritual death. Along with formal education in morals, manners, and other matters of upbringing, these are irreplaceable wonder years filled with wholesome fantasies that are conjured into existence by a bubbling imagination and supported by loving, nurturing parents who show interest and give credence to wondrous, mythical tales and toys imbibed with magic powers. An experience we all believe none should have stolen by the robbery of dialysis, chemo, CF, MD, and the like.

What follows is a literary device to express the feelings of frustration, condemnation, and outrage that someone might have felt about God due to child sickness. (Don't take it literally!)

…I have a problem with notion of sick children. I can’t stand seeing the innocence of life trampled upon by afflictions of mind or health causing fear, pain, suffering, trauma, and death. But God has created life…It’s a spit-in-the-face of justice and a chorus of endless contradiction to moral governance, so called. But God sustains his creation…It’s a perversion of creation, a callous indifference to duty by a Creator to produce horrendous mutilation of contingent, necessary physical structure, in other words corrupting (or letting corrupt) the genetic code that must have proper sequence to support life. But God loves humanity…Little vessels of God’s pinnacle masterpiece who are supposed to glide immeasurably high above the animal kingdom carried aloft by the breath of life, yet that breath has become foul and bearing a heavy stink, pulling down the precious, innocent, and hapless life-potential into the shit that carries down carcasses to be consumed by maggots that even the birds are able to fly over. How dare God allow lower orders of creation to rise above the buried children under His purported Godly care and providence?!

When adults suffer it is possible to crutch the anguish by resting it upon various constructs of reason, philosophy, and religious teaching. Depending on the grace imparted by God to a person, he or she can develop a certain peace with the sickness and project the pain outwardly instead of inwardly or passively. Use the anguish; use the misery; don’t let it happen at you, but discover a meaning for it; a solution that gives you figurative control; a productive use of seeming non-productive existence.

There is one Catholic saint called Therese of Lisieux who called herself the “little flower of Jesus” who suffered long bouts of lung congestion and died of tuberculosis without the relief of morphine. She was quoted as saying, “I value sacrifice more than ecstasy. I find my happiness in suffering, as I find it nowhere else”. Without getting into the how or why she would have thought this way, I interpret this to mean that St. Therese found purpose and meaning in her suffering. This is what a mature person with an enlightened outlook might contemplate, but for a child? That 4-year-old girl who sees her sisters playing, jumping, and running has no such capacity to abstractly rationalize the meaning of her dying heart, slowly killing her as she waits in quiet agony for a heart transplant. How do you tell an 8-year-old boy who is about to receive Jesus at first communion that Jesus loves him, when he suffers from an inoperable brain tumor; he will be dead in a year, but not before the crippling seizures and vomit-inducing headaches retch his pathetic frame.

I’m not a biologist, but from what I understand, human life draws a critical part of its being from flesh, and that flesh is a hugely complex biomechanical and bioelectric machine based on its genetic code. From conception to development of a fertilized egg there are chances for disease. I think fundamental to a healthy child are the genes received from the parents. A genetic disorder where two parents unknowingly carry a mutant gene can pass on a disorder to the offspring—this is a most insidious case (otherwise healthy parents sharing a damaged copy of a gene). There is also the chance for contamination during the fetal stage that that disrupts the development of critical organs and systems (like alcohol and mercury). Once a person reaches childhood there are many environmental triggers that can suddenly cause sickness, like those whose fragile genes are prone to error leading to alterations that contribute to cancer. Then there are others who have generally weak constitutions that react to substances in their environment; stuff like peanuts and bee venom turn into toxins producing violent reactions causing isolation and fear. The point is I believe (again: I’m not an expert!) that various forms of childhood sickness are a result of physical/chemical processes in the body and not the chaotic whims of a capricious god.

The question is why have mutant genes (causing childhood disease and suffering) crept into the human genetic system in the first place? I have no idea! But I can speculate the reasons from a Christian philosophical and theological point of view on behalf of the children (I’m looking for more explanations if you know of any, please).

1. We live in a fallen world and God imposes pressure on life because of the deeds of our original parents. Genesis records that death has been introduced into the system of life, and perhaps genetic illness is an unavoidable side effect?

2. The sickness of children forces us to act with compassion. Contrast this with the opportunistic hunters of the animal kingdom that deal harshly with victims of genetic mutation (a disadvantage to say the least!). Humans are different and we recognize that we are a higher order of being, and the sick child is a person that deserves care. Although we are inconvenienced by the extra overhead of managing a sick child, we are duly granted divine grace to rise up to the occasion.

3. All of human life is interdependent, and each person contributes in a small way to the larger community. Neighbors provide assistance (not necessarily next door, but someone in the community). Without the support of others with similar experience, the situation would indeed be hopeless. Fortunately this is not the case and the community offers help to the suffering parents and indirectly the suffering children.

4. Human beings make visible the beautiful attributes of the invisible God. And God reveals himself (revelation) through his creation; God’s love is given corporeal existence through human beings by the hands and feet of community members who offer loving assistance, support, time and money in an effort to help the parents and comfort the children.

5. The seeds of the solution are found in the problem. Humans have discovered the design of life and gleaned the mechanisms that affect its physical conception. Symptoms of illness have been correlated with certain genetic markers leading to a rational understanding of genetic illness. Life is a logical truth—we are meant to learn and understand the physical reality of life. With the science of genetics as a sustained enterprise the causes of many genetic maladies have been identified and cures discovered that have prevented disorders from developing or a regimen provided to manage chronic conditions.

The Earth our home; Home on our Earth

The Earth our home
The Earth is our home and the only one we can ever know. Put away all of those fantasies about living in space stations or on the Moon, and forget about Mars and interstellar space—they are all pipe dreams. Think about where we live for a moment. We live on a large sphere comprising land, water, life, air, heat and light (from the Sun) together traveling 584 million miles each year at a rate of 64,000 miles an hour. Fortunately for us we don't need to replace oxygen scrubbers or land our ship for repair or even replenish food and fuel. Yes folks, this space ride doesn't even charge admission!

In our attempt to venture out into space we must construct obtuse and complex machines, devise special techniques for operating them, and train the right stuff for years in advance of space missions. The astronaut trains comprehensively both mind and body in preparation for a voyage, but I doubt a distance mission would be anything except tragic. Judging by the acts of astronaut Lisa Nowak it shows that the natural mind suffers from varying degrees of concupiscence and might not handle well the pressures of long-term close-quartered co-ed travel. Especially one constricted by threats of solar radiation, space debris, machine breakdown, software glitches, food spoilage, water and air contamination, covetousness, substance abuse, etc. and the prospect of seeming endless months of travel with no easy way to turn back. Not a fun ride!

Contrast this with our Earth—the home for humans—providing every material need required for sustenance. Isn't it true that all that we could possibly want or need is found one way or another right here on this planet? Food, water, oil, natural gas, building supplies, stable elements, alloys, minerals, etc. Not to mention the knowledge of how to use these for the best practical application in order to serve the needs of mankind. With materials mined, refined, combined and designed, the human mind perpetuates his existence, fosters innovation, increases automation, and industrializes its population, leading to homogenized satisfaction (plenty for all—at least that’s the ideal).

Could a rich man with all of his possessions, travels, and experiences declare: "Oh, what boredom of form! Where is the splendor of design? The works of humanity are boring; what shall I do? My senses are so depleted of stimulation!" “To the earth: a melancholic menagerie of meaningless muck!” Definitely not! Unless this person is depressed or mentally unstable, I could never image this to happen. Likely he could never plumb the depths of experiential diversity and fabricated creature comforts. Every comfort enjoyed by the rich man has in some manner been sourced from the Earth and crafted and fabricated using a technique proper to its materials.

Now the stimulation of the senses to satisfy a taste varies with each person. Yet the meshing (connecting) of the material to the sensory surely finds efficacy (compatibility), because what are the senses but matter designed (as a condition of life) to receive impressions from an outside reality. Consider some examples of products that are designed to stimulate the senses: Sense of sight: the sprawling mansion with manicured golf course, renaissance art, Egyptian carvings, mountain vistas, sunsets and sun rises, stunning Fabergé Easter Eggs, the sight of your spouse at the gala, etc; Sense of sound: orchestras, operas, quartets, live acapella, the beautiful sound of your spouses voice, or the angelic sound of a child choir, etc; Sense of taste: Rothschild Pauillac wine, Kobe fillet mignon, Golden Opulence Sundae, homemade apple pie, etc; Sense of touch: Armani suites, personal masseuse, the smooth ride of a Cadillac, the nuptial embrace, etc; Sense of smell: Clive Christian's No.1 perfume, top grain leather, live flower bouquets in every room...

All that the senses can demand are quenched utterly and completely among the myriad luxuries afforded those with the means to achieve them. In a scaled-down way this also holds true for the common person of the West (middle/upper-class North American). All things being equal (for the sake my stated proposition) the fact that our senses are soothed, satisfied or stimulated through materials fabricated to this end is clear evidence that the Earth is our home and everything in it. "Come and behold ye the works of the Lord: what wonders he hath done upon the earth."[1]

Home on our Earth
This notion must be tempered with the paradoxical fact that home on our Earth is not always ideal. The word home is also an action word, it requires being maintained, being robustly built, being suitable to the environment. Not everyone in the world is afforded with the stability and comforts of a dwelling fit for the title of home. As for the luxuries we enjoy consider the following absurd questions.

Would you say an ideal home would blow everything around within its rooms as a tornado the sticks of a disemboweled trailer park?

How about the eruption of your furnace burning its gases, suffocating and killing your family in their beds as a volcano pukes, spits, and belches, pouring out its unsentimental wrath throughout the village?

Or maybe your fridge spawning the worst kinds of virulent and wicked pestilences tainting the trusted breast milk and bottled formula insidiously spreading its wasting conditions throughout the homes of your neighborhood?

The sudden torrent of thousands of gallons water and debris rushing mercilessly headlong into the bedrooms of your discombobulated kids whose innocent grip on life is severed like so many cars, carcasses, logs and debris tearing up the naked bodies of Burmese victims against its unrelenting tide of death?

Or the sudden electrocution of your mother casually walking past an electric outlet as a lightening bolt chars the flesh up those seeking safety under a tree only to be the victim of a random assault of nature's fury.

I could go on with these extreme examples. In any of these examples would you call this place your home? Certainly not! Yes some of these conditions afflict our brothers and sisters at the places they make home on our Earth.

As a Christian I struggle with understanding the prodigious human suffering happening all over the world—most recently in Burma and China. A very disturbing example was the death of 900 children when the school fell down on them during the earthquake. When I imagine the creative work exerted by God to indwell life (ζωὴ) into a child and the critical importance of a completed life forming the linchpin of salvation, to exist such concentrated pilfering of Christ’s children by movements of dumb stuff (things like globs of water, chunks of stone, and wood logs, as we would have during an earthquake or a hurricane). For these things to extinguish the brilliance of breath God breathed defies my comprehension. I haven’t found a category to slot these actions, and I pray God for grace to help me understand why they happen.

But I hear some say, “Who cares? If the laws of physics are so fashioned so as to reliably produce results from observation for over 400 years (modern scientific method) why shouldn't I demand to have that same stability repeated for my home--the home that God has supposedly created for me, and supposedly nurtured with his own grace! Why does he make it so difficult to prepare a habitation suitable for the environmental conditions? Yes, I realize bribery and poor workmanship are likely to blame when the earth shakes and everything crumbles. That’s not the point. The question is why is it so difficult to hold back the chaos of nature?

The fact is that things rip, slip, tip, flip, whip, and zip all on their own by virtue of their material properties.

Well you see the paradox: the home that harbors safety is fickle, double-faced and defective. The following wisdom from Augustine might help put things into perspective, "As for the greater governance of divine providence, everything that happens has a purpose even though the causes are hidden."[2]

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NOTES

[1] Ps 45:9
[2] City of God, Bk 7 ch 8

Does he talk about Armageddon?

I can remember my first call with Elsie the Jehovah's Witness. Having gotten my name and phone number from a mutual friend, I was expecting her call any time by now. When she called, the sound of her voice was sincere, certain, and seasoned. She would ask me leading questions to find an angle, and make assertions to get a rise. Duly I would stand up with certitude and defend my case (my faith, my Christ; saving face), figuring I was on the attack. My patchwork of half-baked philosophical and theological understanding (and by the way, I'm still not a good baker) produced some interesting results, though no doubt less systematic than Elsie's. Plenty of times during our many calls she would find a slippery edge from my reasoning and without a sure footing cause her perceivable aggravation. I would sense the urgency in her exasperated tone at my apparent cavalier reception of the upcoming Armageddon. I was not trying to get her upset, but I was also holding back indignation (as I thought then): why can't this woman get it! Why does she persist in propping up this Johnny-come-lately, works-based, New York headquartered corporation? I tried to "run her through" with many of my own remarks hoping to bust through her reasoning (by the way, I'm no rhetorician).


I was wrong. I don’t think this way now, because a belief system grounds itself upon complex and seemingly haphazard events (providence?) that tie together over spans of time and geography; mix that with the solidification of personal identification, gratification, and validation through communing groups of adherents; and to top it off a mind reaching for and apprehending at different strata of wisdom—bottom line: people are complicated—don’t try to reduce them to caricature play things!


Most of the time the conversation would degenerate. She would lose her angle or run out of assertions, or questions (I was not as good at asking questions; she would tend to drive the discussion). Finally, during one conversation I was asked with a fairly stern tone, "What have you done for Christ?" I don't recall my answer, but I remember my internal sense that I was being told that Christianity required doing works in exchange for salvation, yet I felt that this was a totally false and impossible standard to expect of all believers. Consider that most westerners do not do nearly as much as they ought (myself included) to advance the cause of Christ, much less adopt a lifestyle free of hypocrisy (as much as can be gifted by God’s Spirit to those who ask, and all things considered). I was empathetic toward her situation—a big part of her life was devoted to the Kingdom, perhaps with a certain expectation of recompense? Maybe so (the reward I mean), but who really knows anyway?


It was a long time before my next phone call from her.


Finally out of the blue I received a message that Elsie had called. Now I had told her a year before that I was going to investigate the claims of Watchtower Bible and Tract Society vs. orthodox Christianity (as I then called it). Being led by so many fortuitous circumstances I ended up back as a Catholic believer and was slowly but surely having my outlook on thing changed dramatically (for the better). (It has been a very unusual growth process (from Catholicism as a child to pagan, to protestant believer, back to Catholicism (and then some!). By means of careful reasoning and analysis of the facts, I knew for sure that I could never rightly accept the claims of either the Society at large or their authority. I know she was disappointed that I was dwelling in (ἐσκήνωσεν) Christendom—perhaps in her mind she was thinking: Oh that lost young man! Joining that evil whore of a religion, ranked among believers who are worse than ignorant! Laodicean I say! The conniving parlor pigs of popery consuming Christ’s carrion feasting at Satan’s table! What claims have they over the true witnesses of Christ? Those beautiful Earthly class who venerate that good and faithful servant.


I'm being sarcastic here. I don’t know what she was thinking, because I can’t experience her thoughts directly. Anyway, she was probably not pleased about it.


We chatted more about my reversion to Catholicism and how I now attend Mass regularly. Her question to me about the priest was, "Does he talk about Armageddon?" This question gave me the sense of just how single-dimensional and narrow her religion seemed (at least as she presented it, I’ll give the benefit of the doubt to those JW’s who don’t constantly worry about the end of the world). As I compare this (her JW formula) to the immense variety and depth of thought, spirituality, and history of the Catholic Church (courageously assimilating the best of human thought, work, and even respect for separated brethren, those minority religions (Jehovah’s Witnesses included) and the other great world religions). I couldn't help but think this frame of mind (i.e., focusing on eschatology with singular purpose) cannot be conducive to nurturing a deep and fulfilling relationship with Christ. Who knows when we might get scooped up and carried off to sure and deserved judgment? This type of paranoia is truly unsettling.


However, that being said I can attest that I did not suffer from as much anxiety during this call—I didn’t lose my cool, as was the case on other calls with Elsie. I felt that my new religion (or as I should say, choosing adoption into the Universal Church) gave me a wide view of things so as not to get all worked up about this or that religious dogma or precept. That is not to say I have become some kind of wishy-washy libertarian limp wrist. No, far from it! What is becoming clear to me is that we must connect with people where they’re at right now, and not try to bind their arms and ankles with crafty sophistry and wrestle them down—even if that were possible (be it with the truth or falsehood).

Again, it comes back to the fact that we are limited by degree to understanding ultimate truth. We rely upon the Holy Spirit (her Church included) for revelation, illumination, clarification, and proper formation. No body has the corner on the truth, and if one truly has this corner it is likely on the first floor of a spiring tower.