Thursday, March 26, 2009

Two by Two

Pacing beside the fields of this somewhere else;

to walk with weights tied about my hips

as a horse or some other animal of burden.

Why was I not an oxen-

birthed to be fat and happy,

dumbly discouraged from an education;

calmed by an electric wire,

buzzed into simulation.

Why was I not a bird-

fitted with air-filled bones,

heavy with feathers, puffed

with sensation;

the called out ones.

Or a candle-

stiffly holding shape under heat,

centered with a cord;

giving way slowly like a cat in water

gripping the raft, gripping the raft-

with every hope bent upon the

unkempt claws dug in.

Why must I be an

Orangutan,

a frumpish pear-shape with dwarfish arms

to drape stupidly over an uneven body,

inept for any use in propulsion?

stagnant in brains,

collared voice on a chain,

a sweet nexus altered.

Yet I find myself in the land of the living.

amongst models of seasons

amid an overwhelmed shelf,

between will-call;

an ink-stain of improperly removed

security devices blotting out

so much of my memory.

But an orangutan. The Orangutan.

The awkward body shuffle of a crowd

pre-destined to see a Holy Light-

looking forward; always forward;

always forward.

Always Forward.

isn’t it something:

never upward. 


Rebekah Jordan

Tirades from the Theatre

In the small but self important realm of Christian colleges there is a definite hierarchy to the majors. Those who chose to study the sacred, Biblical studies and theology majors, consider themselves at the top of the heap with business and science slightly beneath them. After them come the humanities. Philosophy gets the most respect because no one wants to argue with a baby philosopher. Next comes history and English because they will have no trouble getting accepted into graduate school. And finally at the very bottom of the heap are the students of the arts. 

I am a theatre major, and I am tired of all the condescension. I spend just as much time in the black box theatre as any chemistry major spends bent over a Bunsen burner. Yet, I am labeled academically soft and emotionally volatile. Therefore I will try to the best of my abilities to refute both these claims through a calm and logical argument.

A good deal of the condescension stems from the fact that in acting class we lie on the floor and find our inner pool of vibration. However, acting class is only one component of the theatre arts major. I challenge any history major to take theatre history as an elective and discover that we too know how to deal with cold hard facts. We have to remember dates, names, and places like the rest of you. And just as a history major tries to understand change over time, so does a theatre major. We strive to understand how the devastating loss of ideals after World War I contributed to the rise of Absurdism, and why the Nazis embraced Wagner and his passion for the masterwork with such a devastating misunderstanding. We struggle to make sense of the myriad of plays produced since the time of the Greeks in order to understand how they affected culture, and how in turn we may change our own. This is the same lofty goal towards which all students should struggle. The only difference is that instead of trying to advance science or gain a practical understanding of macro economics we are trying to understand how the average citizen responds to them.

One of the great purposes of theatre is to record civilization. Not things like the great building projects of Ramses and Herod for they will always be remembered. Instead we struggle to remember what is all too easily forgotten: the feelings and lives of the average citizen. As Thornton Wilder said in Our Town:

Babylon once had two million people in it, and all we know about them is the names of kings, some wheat contracts-and the sales of slaves. Yet every night the family sat down to supper, and the father came home from his work, and the smoke went up the chimney same as here. And all we know about them is the bits we can piece together from the jokes and plays they wrote for theatre back then”   

In a play we see what does not make it into a text book. No textbook will ever break our hearts with the story of a farmer in New Hampshire who lost his wife in childbirth. Instead it can tell us that the infant mortality rate was high at the turn of the century. History can give us facts, which the scientists can study and use to change the future. But theatre can tell us the stories that make up those facts. Without those stories we will lose what it means to be human. 

G.K Chesterton said that: “tradition is democracy extended through time”, as Americans we believe in democracy, just as we believe in progress. But in order to maintain both we must not forget those whose lives contributed to the statistics in our textbooks. This therefore is the purpose of theatre: to repeat what was said so that we can remember the dead, and to say what needs to be said so that we in turn will not be forgotten. It is with this aim that I pursue my degree.

With this exalted view of the theatre’s role comes the responsibility to understand what is actually going on around us. So I ask you to talk with me. Tell me about history, about chemistry, about the different ways of interpreting Genesis 6:1-4. I will listen. I love to listen. All I ask in return is that you grant a theatre major the same respect you would a Bible major. After all they will have just as hard a time finding a job after graduation. Possibly harder, because we have at least been taught how to listen. 

 Hannah Baker

 

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Nietzsche and Moral Psychology

Moral Psychology is the study of the psychological conditions and preconditions that enable us to act as moral beings. Throughout history, most thinkers have been occupied with defining right and wrong, good and evil. Moral psychology inquires into the part of the human psyche that allows for these concepts to even exist. Thus, instead of asking, “What is right and wrong?” a moral psychologist would ask, “what do we know about human psychology that informs our understanding of right and wrong as well as our ability (or inability) to live according to those principles?” Traditionally, this branch of ethics has been dominated by a handful of philosophers, a club into which Nietzsche has only recently been included.

Of course, as Christians, this branch of study is immensely relevant to our theology, especially our understanding of the doctrines of sin and sanctification. In the reformed tradition, sin is universal and humans are totally depraved. “There is no one righteous, not even one” (Rom 3.10) means that humans lack the ability to live morally apart from the transforming knowledge of the gospel and the sanctifying work of the Holy Spirit. This is a radical claim and is a difficult one for non-believers to accept. Certainly no one likes to be told he or she is unable to be a good person apart from becoming a Christian. I am interested in identifying a moral psychology that would provide a naturalistic explanation for this doctrine.

In this article, I will very briefly outline the beliefs of four of the most prominent moral psychologists. I argue that of these four thinkers, Friedrich Nietzsche provides the most tenable system through which sin and sanctification can be explained.

 

The differences between all these moral systems can be boiled down to two issues: The nature of moral principles within an individual and how it motivates one to make moral decisions.

Some argue that the first moral psychologist was Aristotle. According to him, one makes moral decisions based on a “firm and unalterable character”. This character is a complex system of sentiments and emotional responses that determine how an individual acts in specific situations. In order to develop a morally positive disposition, one must practice making moral decisions in order to develop them into habits. These habits contribute to the individual’s entire life, allowing them to exercise proper emotional responses and to reflect intelligently on their inner motives. For Aristotle, the most important factor in developing a virtuous person is his or her childhood upbringing. Thus, one’s parents and childhood educators make the most difference in one’s moral training.

The great skeptic David Hume takes this a step further. He claims that moral nature doesn’t exist and all seemingly moral decisions are simply choices made out of emotion. For Hume, we have no inner moral nature; all our moral actions are motivated by our environmentally-produced psychological affections and aversions. In other words, there is no independently existing law of morality; all that matters in your determination of what is right and wrong is what pleases you and what disgusts you.

For Kant, moral law exists and it can be attained by pure reason. His famous Categorical Imperative (CI) is what he believes to be the universal law by which all rational moral people must live. The CI is obeyed by rationally reflecting individuals; moral motivation has nothing to do with an individual’s nurture or environment. If a person chooses certain actions out of habit that just happen to coincide with moral good, he did not actually make a moral decision. Rather, each time an individual is faced with a moral decision, he or she must choose the right one solely through his rational faculties. Kant calls this motivation the concept of duty.

Nietzsche’s moral psychology goes radically against any of the previous three thinkers. For Nietzsche, what is definitive in determining an individual’s actions is neither habit, emotion, nor reason, but hereditary psychological and physiological traits. He believes that the vast majority of the time people first behave in a certain way and then form moral principles to justify that. The primary determinant of each individual’s behavior is his or her unique genetic stamp, which give that person certain behavioral traits that are very hard to stray away from. Brian Leiter, a prominent Nietzsche scholar, summarized this in the “Doctrine of Types”, which states: “Each person has a fixed psycho-physical constitution, which defines him as a particular type of person” (Leiter 2008). Leiter calls this psycho-physical constitution a “type-fact” and it is a system of unconscious drives and instincts within an individual.

Of course, this is not to say that one’s upbringing and socio-cultural situation does not factor into his morals. There is a complex interplay of nature and nurture, but Nietzsche claims that nurture is far more important. This is backed up by most of the scientific data from the last few decades. It is surprising, but the fact of the matter is in recent psychology research, the idea that parental upbringing is a big factor in the moral development of an individual is going out the door. Nor is this doctrine claiming that humans are incapable of rationally reflecting on their actions. It simply states that most of the time we act first and ask questions later.

 

At first glance, Nietzsche’s claims may seem antagonistic towards Christianity. If our ability to choose right over wrong is already set in stone based on our genetic makeup, how can we have any hope for sanctification? Apart from a supernatural explanation involving the work of the Holy Spirit, it would be impossible for an individual to align his or her moral disposition towards that of Christ’s. Furthermore, how can we be held responsible for our actions, if they have been determined for us since the day we were born by forces beyond our control?

In addressing this last objection, Nietzsche does not claim that all a person’s actions are determined for him from birth in a fatalistic fashion. In fact, his writings scathingly denigrate the deterministic way of viewing the world. He believes that our actions are not primarily determined by rational reflection, but by our unconscious drives and instincts, which have been inhibited by our false conceptions of divinely-imposed moral law.

I think the fact that we are helpless in our genetic disposition towards moral wrong actually comports really well with the sin doctrine. Reformed theology states that in our actions we are completely unable to do good. This is scientifically tenable if we can show that our inability to do good is rooted in a universal defect in our type-facts. According to the reformed theologian Wayne Grudem, humankind’s fall into sin involves a fall in all dimensions of human life, including “our intellects, our emotions and desires, our hearts (the center of our desires and decision-making processes)…and even our physical bodies” (Grudem, Systematic Theology). If the center of our desires and decision-making processes is equated with type-facts, our unique set of behavioral traits, then a fall in that facet of our lives could explain the universal inability of all humans to live morally.

Given this explanation, there is still the difficulty of giving a naturalistic account of sanctification. Perhaps at this point it is appropriate to remember that as humans, we are limited in our intellectual capacity and that it is perhaps not inappropriate to say that the Holy Spirit works by supernatural means. After all, our redemption is not a redemption simply of our spirits, but of our entire bodies in Christ. If, upon accepting Christ as our Lord and Savior, there is a tangible change in our lives, perhaps the change involves a change in the plasticity of our type-facts, enabling us to make morally positive decisions and live “by the fruits of the Spirit”, so to speak.

I am particularly interested in Nietzschean ethics because I believe that it has much to add to our Christian understanding of ourselves and the of human condition . I believe that over history, the person of Nietzsche has been unjustly vilified in Christian circles because of his infamous claim that “God is dead”. Over the last century, his writings have been misunderstood, partially because of its difficulty and partially because of its (incorrect) association with Nazi doctrine. Through this mistreatment and the tendency to construct straw-man understandings of his claims, a Christians have largely left a wealth of deep spiritual insight unmined. It is my hope that we would be able to reexamine the thoughts of this intellectual giant, and use them to build up our spiritual understanding.

 

Sola Deo Gloria

Daniel Shih

Passion vs. Practicality

Passion…

Rolls smoothly off the tongue

With the whoosh of a three-hundred horsepower engine

With the unrestrained exhilaration of the battle cry

With the luscious sweetness of the lovers’ kiss

With the invincible tide of the orator’s words

With the slice of the wind turbine through crystal-clear air

Leaping,

Swirling,

Lifting one’s mind

To loftier clouds and unreached realities.

Practicality…

Clatters and contorts the tongue

With the squiggling of the graph of a stock’s value

With the clink of a coin in the beggar’s cup

With the Tacoma Narrows Bridge as it twists to collapse

With the grit of pioneers building lives in the wilderness

With that three-hundred horsepower emitting ample pollution.

Shattering,

Pressing,

Keeping one’s heart

Stuck to the narrow, burdensome track forward.

Passion and Practicality…

Where do they meet?

In the doctor’s decision of who should receive aid

In the basketball team’s strategy to win

In the confining words, “We can’t afford that”

In the need for financial donors and the need for those serving

In spreading the Gospel while meeting what’s physically lacking

In studying what one loves while considering life in general

Drilling,

Smoothing,

Aiming oneself,

To meld purpose and love in a way of life.

   Ben Skinner

 

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Our Intercessor


Time is hidden in their wrinkles.
Vivid scarves, shoulder icons,
red and gold - worn thin.
They are the Bogomater herself
vigilant mourners
suspended at the edge of an end,
year after year - insistent.
Holy water trickles from their eyes
baptizing the children
lead innocently into this sacred place.

- Rebecca Horner