The future of evolution

Since my posts recently have toyed with the skirts of evolution, here is something a lot much beterer and funierer on the subject of "Breeding".

"President Katie caught napping"

Statement from the Honourable President Katherine Jeanne Andrews:

Rumours that I have been reneging on my responsibilities are to be seen as spurious by those loyal constituents who would like to remain bodily intact. The photo published in certain unscrupulous publications was taken out of context. The Minister of Sport and Recreation arranged a day’s outing in the mountains and I can be seen here enjoying the fresh air. Any further comment on this issue will be entertained by the Minister of Security and National Director of the Secret Police.

Creed: the earth is a globe...

Barry asked a good question: “Do you ever get a little threatened by the ideas of science and psychology that threaten to reduce our long-held Christian beliefs into fragments of a quaint historical period?”

I guess that’s where I started. It is the crux of my struggle – to reconcile apparently alienated ways of thinking. But this crux is a creation of a debate between alienated positions, which are neither representative of their respective fields not appropriate for me to inherit in my thinking.

Science has its fundamentalists. Richard Dawkins being one of the more vocal examples from Evolutionary Biology. A debate between fundamentalists in science and fundamentalists in Christianity is never going to be a helpful debate. While I respect Dawkins immensely, I think he is just plain wrong when it comes to his opinions about religion (although not all his opinions…). Similarly, I think most Christian fundamentalists have misrepresented the faith I hold dear. Between these two extremes is a host of view points that actually have a great deal in common, or at least reason to cooperate.

The supposed pitched battle between science and religion is a false idea based on false conceptions about both science and religion. I consider myself religious, but there are many religious people who would call me an atheist. The science most people have in mind is the science of high school, which is all about hard facts and a categorical world-view. Science in fact is quite tentative and every year new revisions are making once accepted world-views relative.

It is worth bearing in mind that science and faith in the western world have grown up together. Seldom have they behaved as separately as they have in the last century and the consequences of that separation are moot: nuclear bombs and Pat Robertson. Prior to this unfortunate separation some of the most important scientific discoveries were made by church people. And still today, some of the most important religious movements have been bolstered and led by scientists.

I no longer fear science. I have found science makes me wonder like nothing else. It was an atheist scientist who introduced me to the idea of wonder (the “numinous” – Carl Sagan) – an idea I think is integral to worship.

I think the idea that religion can be localised in a part of the brain should give us cause to rejoice that we are about to figure out what makes for good religious experience. The church should be supporting studies that are helping scientists understand how religion works – good and bad. These studies do not erode religious claims unless those claims are inappropriate.

When Kopernik (Copernicus) proposed his solar system model of the universe, he did not lose his faith. When Galileo used this idea to challenge the church he did not lose his faith. And many faithful people found these ideas refreshing, even if the hierarchy were threatened. And today we accept this view of the universe without a moments hesitation.

Science may cause us to revise our language, but it can never undermine faith. This conversation was reported by Carl Sagan after he met with the Dalai Lama.

SAGAN: What would you do if we came up with convincing proof that Buddhism was wrong?
DL: If science found a serious error in Tibetan Buddhism, of course we would change Tibetan Buddhism.
SAGAN: Suppose it was something basic? Suppose, for instance, it was reincarnation?
DL: If science can disprove reincarnation, Tibetan Buddhism would abandon reincarnation. (with a twinkle in his eye) But it's going to be very hard to disprove reincarnation.

Jesus Instinct?

William James wrote a seminal work on psychology, Principles of Psychology, a generation after Darwin’s legendary Origin of the Species. James attempted to explain human nature as a product of our evolutionary history.

Some commentators see humans as unique amongst the animals because we appear to be ruled by our reason, not instinct. James disagreed. For James the distinctiveness of humans was to be ascribed to having more instincts not less. An instinct is a “software programme” that has been developed by natural selection in a species to cope with a particular reality. Humans have the finest and most complex system of instincts, which makes our decisions more subtle and dextrous.

Evolutionary Psychologists refer to this problem as “instinct blindness”. Our instincts work so well for us, so effortlessly, that it is difficult to imagine that things could work any other way.

Several studies are drawing attention to the fact that much of religious experience is located quite precisely in certain parts of the brain and organised around certain chemical reactions. It is also becoming clear that certain types of people are prone to religious experience – have an aptitude for it. We have a religious instinct – some more than others.

This is also true of social change, which has its origin in the individual revolutionary’s psychology. Just as religion is a corporate, outward expression of an internal psychology, so social change begins with some psychological process. Feedback and “cross-pollination” enhances or dampens the experience, changing it and developing it.

Religion and social change are my bread and butter. The question I am living with at the moment is how an evolutionary psychological point of view affects me as an instructor of religion. Fascinating!

Trading on the Brand

My church, Methodist Church of Southern Africa, is debating whether or not to accept same-sex unions. Currently the MCSA has no position except a rather vague bit about discouraging homosexual people from “practicing”. A group of us recently put together a submission to Parliament calling for a revision of the Marriage Act so that same-sex unions can enjoy the same rights as married couples. We were reprimanded for “misrepresenting the MCSA brand”, this despite the fact that we specifically said that we do not represent the MCSA. We do feel that we are Methodist and this needs to be recognised in the context of the overwhelmingly bigoted Christian response to same-sex unions that has so far been hogging the limelight. Anyway, this is Gus’ response to the reprimand…

Maybe we should change the document to read "Christian Clergy, Theologians and Christians" instead of "Methodist...” I'm not sure if I want to be too closely associated with "the MCSA brand."

Sometimes I am ashamed to tell my gay friends that I am a Christian (not that I have many, I guess its 'cos I'm a Christian). I kinda hoped that when I said I was a Methodist I/they would feel a bit better. I hoped I would be able to, as they say: "Trade on the MCSA brand." But I don't think I will.

Minister: "I'm a gay friendly Methodist!"
Gay Person: "What!? You mean some are not?"
M: "Ja man, sorry, we're still trying to figure out whether you're our target market. It's about branding you see - we're mostly aimed at LSM 1-4, we do 5 and up, but that’s just to get some cash in the coffers. (We're not so bad at getting money out of 1-4 though, but don't let them know that, liberation is also our brand... some might say the ANC at prayer.) But we have to work with our market, and 1 to 4 is mostly conservative - they don't really like gays."
G: "OK, I understand, let us know when we make the brand... we'll just hang about here at the door in case you let us in one day."

Yeah right!

If we are actually so into branding then surely it would be a good thing to expand our target market a bit? Maybe we need to keep an eye on the prophets? Profits? Prophets? Profits?

"Do you think Gogo is a good brand? She's dependable, loving, caring, wise - she's nice... she's our brand - LSM 1-4 I guess, Radio Ads will bring her in. But I don't think we can really sell her - we need beautiful, sexy, sassy, wealthy!!! Get ReBorn! You can be young hot and healthy Gogo - Oprah's coming to give you a makeover. See how those jeans make your bum look small - like a nice white girl."

Trading on the brand - my ass.

No Gogos were harmed during the writing of this nonsense.

Dassie

Some people have asked what's a dassie (pronounced "dussee"). This is a family of dassies in Nambia - thanks to Jenny for the photo. Those of you who know me, may be able to see the resemblance.

Here is a good wiki article on them. I have always liked them cos they seem like fierce yet fun loving animals; reclusive yet social. Their habitat is rocky - mountain or seaside - my favourite places.

Yes, they may be the closest living relative of the elephant. Ancient fossils indicate that these diminutive modern versions are much smaller than their giant ancestors. That's another reason I like em - great family connections.

Who do you say I am?

Mark 8:27-38

A Sarah-inspired sermon.

There is an ad on TV at the moment in which some pretentious git comes hurrying up to the check-in counter at the airport demanding immediate service. The staff are a little slow as there seems to be some problem with the ticket so he get’s huffy, “Do you know who I am?” The woman who is helping him takes a moment to calm herself. She says to him, “Oh, I didn’t realise!” and picks up the public address intercom, to the satisfaction of her blustery client. She calls the airport to attention and then informs everyone, “There is a man here who does not know who he is. If there is someone who can help him, please report to the information desk.”

I have heard on many occasions someone in Sunday School referring to Jesus’ parents as Mary and Joseph Christ. It is not such a surprising mistake. I learned this week that there was a Roman historian who confused the Greek word Christos (which means Christ) for the common slave name Chrestos. He spoke of the troublesome “tribe” of chrestianoi led by the slave Chrestos.

It is interesting that today we are so certain of what Christ means and assume that this word was easily understood even in Jesus’ day. In the NRSV that I read from today we read it translated as “Messiah”. The KJV translates the word “Christ”. Some versions try to stick to the original meaning of the word and translate it as “anointed one”. This is in fact what “messiah” means: anointed one.

I learnt this week Peter’s saying this to Jesus, was not as categorical as it sounds. In fact, it is very difficult to know what Peter actually meant when he said it. Anointed doesn’t really mean much except that someone has been chosen for something by virtue of the ceremony of soaking their head in oil or water. It could refer to just about anyone. What one needs to know is: anointed by whom? Peter does not say - perhaps Peter does not know.

There were many people in Jesus’ time who looked forward to the arrival of a messiah. But, it is apparently misleading to think that the Jewish people of Jesus’ day longed for some God-sent, spiritual superman who would fulfil their dreams and start a new creation. In fact, most were waiting for someone who would reinstate the monarchic line of David. Others hoped for a reformer in the Temple hierarchy. Then there were prophets who were also seen as anointed and some people longed for a prophet just as our text today suggests.

We tend to think that Jesus asked, “Who do you say I am?” because he was testing his disciples. To us “Christ” is the right answer. So why would Jesus then tell his friends to shut up about it? His response is puzzling. We are not the only generation of Christians who find it puzzling. Even Matthew, written a short time after Mark, adds a little to Jesus response so that it sounds as if Jesus is saying, “Quite right, well done, but this is going to be our little secret?”

But Mark is the plain speaker of our gospels and there is no mistaking Jesus’ abrupt tone here. It is almost a reprimand. It almost seems to throw Jesus into a bad mood for a little while later he calls Peter “Satan”!

Bruce Malina in his book The New Testament World explains why Jesus asks this question. He points out that people’s identity in the cultures of the Mediterranean was not based on an individualised, internal and personal construction like we have in the Western world today. Rather people’s identity was what anthropologists call “dyadic personality”. This means that a person’s identity was built from what other people said about them – something akin to the African idea of a “person is a person through other people.” So when Jesus asks, “Who am I?” he is not testing his friends, but is collecting information about himself so he can know who he is.

Now we know that people confused Jesus with a militant revolutionary or even a temple reformer. It is one of the reasons people deserted him in the end when it was clear he wasn’t going to usher in a new Kingdom. And we also know that this was despite Jesus’ best efforts to teach people about what he is. We read over and over again his frustration with people’s confusion about who he is. So when Peter calls Jesus “The Christ”, it may be that Jesus’ reply is actually telling Peter he is just plain wrong.

All through Mark, we hear Jesus telling people to be quiet about what he has done for them, especially the miracles he performed which would have fed the idea that he was some kind of prophet or spiritual superman. Jesus is not trying to protect his secret long enough to postpone a confrontation with the authorities so that he can make an entrance in Jerusalem. He is trying to control perceptions about himself, trying to steer people away from the misleading idea that he is a revolutionary, a temple reformer, a reincarnated prophet or even God’s special strongman.

Jesus goes on to speak of carrying the cross. Of suffering for the cause he has taken on. It is a distasteful idea: the anointed crucified. Remember crucifixion was meted out on slaves and traitors. It was a demeaning as well as agonising death.

Jesus’ whole cause is nothing less than the inversion of every human institution. He does not want to be seen as a revolutionary, because it is both establishment and revolution that he seeks to subvert. He does not want to be seen as a reformer of the temple, because the entire temple idea must be undercut. He does not want to be seen as a prophet, because he is undermining the very notion of specially spirited authority. Jesus is unique and incomparable. He upsets every stereotype and surprises anyone who thinks they have him pigeon-holed.

Every identity, every institution, every assumption, every prejudice, every edifice is in danger from this man. He is a truly disturbing presence.

The revolution of one age becomes the establishment of the next. The reformer of one generation is the oligarch of the next. Jesus is not interested in recycling. He wants a genuine revisioning of humanity. Jesus wants to get to the bottom of things and there he finds in every temple basement, in every government cellar, in every heart’s secret the truth that we are desperately afraid to be known and loved. Our civilisation is our protection from actually dealing with one another; knowing and loving one another. Our levels of sophistication reflect only the lengths to which we will go to avoid having to connect. “For what will it profit you to gain the whole world and forfeit your life?” Jesus asks.

The eccentric or maverick that stands apart from traditional institutions is regarded with pity or outrage, yet such people are often the most precious. Jesus was such a person. He stands clear of human institutions while still being eminently human. So special is he, he seems almost to transcend history itself. Yet Jesus is the quintessential lover. And this strange man asks us to divest ourselves of our pretensions, to live more honest lives, unafraid of being our genuine, strange selves.

No wonder he rebels against any label that puts on him the expectations of others. He owns his own identity and yet that identity he freely shares with anyone who would open themselves up to the power of compassion.

“Who do you say I am?”

God is a good idea

Murray asked a good question after my post on Resurrection. Actually a few good questions.

Murray: “Were the stories of Jesus re-appearance to the disciples then just stories?”

I would say they are legends but not "just stories".

I can imagine that the stories developed from initial comments made by the first disciples: “I was sweating it out upstairs, wondering when the knock on the door would herald my own crucifixion, when I had this epiphany: Jesus said, ‘Peace be with you’ and I felt the Spirit move me to courage!” Through retelling and embellishment these comments became the stories we have now.

Alternatively, the writers of the gospels may have deliberately embellished what they knew and used stylistic idiom to indicate that the story fits into the legend genre. We may not be able to appreciate this style from our modern perspective and so take the stories as historical fact.

But I don’t think they were “just stories”. They are powerful, regardless of their historical content. I wouldn’t say that Dead Poet’s Society was “just a story”. It affected me deeply and challenged me. Similarly, I am sure that Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat is a far cry from the original story in the Bible - let alone whether the original can be called history - but both remain a single powerful story for me.

Murray: “Were they further parables to show ideas and values that Jesus taught, before He died? And if the answer is 'yes', then does that change how we understand the concept of the Trinity?”

I think legend is a specific genre distinct from parable, but I do think that part of the reason for presenting the story as legend would be to highlight Jesus’ teaching. It was also to make Jesus’ character larger than mortal life. One of the clear aims of the legend genre is to put a personality on a pedestal. In the case of Jesus this makes thematic literary sense because of the Incarnational message of Jesus: God becomes human so that people can become God.

Viewing the stories of Jesus’ resurrection appearances as legend does change one’s conception of the Trinity. In fact, it actually worked the other way around for me. I changed my ideas about God and that helped me make sense of the questions I had about the stories of the Resurrection.

And I guess that is were the rub comes. I now cross my Rubicon (drum roll please, warm up the heretic stake…):

I believe God is a Myth. It is very, very important that people read that statement within the context of what follows…

When I use the word “Myth” I do not mean “invalid” or “untrue”. I am saying that it is an idea that has power in my life, but is not objectively verifiable. Let me explain

I have long struggled to reconcile two ways of understanding the world that are both incredibly important to me and, while these worldviews are often pitched against each other, they were born in the same impulse: the desire to understand our world and our place in it.

I value both a theological and a scientific view of the world and think both are powerful means by which humanity can make sense - and a future - out of the mess we are in now. I also believe that one without the other is asking for trouble. But it has been a long and painful journey trying to work out in my head how I live with both consistently. Most of the time I have been resigned to a kind of schizophrenic ping-pong, picking and choosing between the two – but that makes me feel like a selective fundamentalist.

The crux of the matter is that science will never be able to prove that God exists or doesn’t exist. It is simply beyond the ability of the scientific method. But science weighs in heavily on the side of “does not”. Religious experience can be shown as a function of chemistry in a particular part of the brain. Theological insight (revelation) can be seen as cultural constructs common to a range of groups both near and far from each other. The universe demonstrates no evidence of design; in fact what one sees is very messy and clumsy. So the tentative, if sometimes forceful, opinion of science is that God, for all practical purposes, does not exist.

I agree: God is not objectively verifiable. There is no evidence that God exists.

However, I still think believing in God has merit. Whatever the existence of God actually means, God is a good idea (Crusades and Jihad not-with-standing).

I see science and theology as two ways of knowing, one based on objectively verifiable information we receive through rigorous testing and re-testing of our world. This is science. It helps us make sure that what we see, actually exists in such a way that we can accurately predict what will happen tomorrow. The other is theology: a way of knowing that tries to grasp at reasons and meaning that science cannot explain; indeed, to extract from apparent chaos, some semblance of sensibility.

Within the scientific framework it is not a useful question to ask, “Does God exist?” It would be like asking “Does love exist?” I can identify the hormones, observe the behaviour and write it off as just so much chemical interaction and social instinct. But no scientist worth their salt would propose such a thing for a scientist is still human and capable of love. There is a magic – a mystery – beyond the data that is more than the sum of its parts. In fact, most good science would add to the wonder of love, by demonstrating its intricate complexities at the chemical and social level. It is theology’s task (with the other “art” disciplines) to help humanity become more than the sum or its parts.

I find a “eureka” experience when turning to a more appropriate question of the God-stuff: “How do humans experience God?” Science, in all its disciplines comes up with some marvellous gems when asking that question.

I can imagine that some will say that “God is a good idea” is not the same as saying “I believe in God” Semantically, I agree, but essentially, what’s the difference?

The person who says “I believe in God” has a concept in mind, one that every good theologian will admit is a dim shadow of God. God is in the end unknowable because finite human minds cannot grasp an infinite God. The concept in the believer’s mind is an idea. It is a powerful idea because it demands the allegiance of the believer. But it is not an unchangeable idea. Of course, how that image, or concept, of God plays out in the person’s behaviour will help determine whether that particular idea of God is “good” or not, but let us assume that it is good. Essentially the believer has an idea in their head about God, which is good; i.e. “God is a good idea.”

Someone can reply: “But I believe that God is objectively verifiable.” Apart from the fact that this is an impossible task, it is still a statement born of an idea. Just saying it, doesn’t make it so.

An ultra-Darwinist might interject: “But believing in God is patently childish!” To which I would reply, “Tell that to the people whose faith kept them strong in the face of death as they fought for freedom.”

I believe in God, because God is a good idea.

Murray: “I wholly agree with the idea, I just can't seem to fit it together with the Doctrine that is held as truth.”

By now, you are probably keenly aware that I may well be playing outside Doctrine – whatever that may be. I don’t mean to be flippant - I value the Christian tradition. That tradition has given rise to both science and modern theology. Both have delivered scarcely believable advances in our understanding of ourselves and our world. Both have enlarged our awe of God, but both have caused us to question God’s nature and even existence. So, I may be seen as a heretic, but I prefer to think of all this as honest wrestling. You be the judge…

Who is the enemy? by Omar Al-Rikabi

The following piece came to me via sojomail. It's worth subscribing to if you haven't already done so.

I have been on the road a lot in the last three months, taking different road-trips to New Orleans, New York City, Nashville, and Dallas. Constantly in the shadow of the endless line of 18-wheelers, I noticed that one particular trucking company had this sign posted on most of their trucks:

Support our troops whenever we go!No aid or comfort to the enemy!
No way!

So who is the enemy?

Last summer my older cousin Ali was able to come in from Ohio to be at our wedding. I think it was really good for my dad to have someone from back home who was able to be there, and he filled in as my grandmother's escort, sitting with her on the front row.

Ali was forced to serve in the Iraqi Army in the first Gulf War. Other cousins were also conscripted, stationed on the front lines and in Kuwait City. Some of them were rounded up in the mass-surrenders after the ground war began, and they all made it home. But Ali had a different story. He was a field surgeon on the front lines with the Republican Guard. Sadaam thought that if he placed the medical units close enough to the rest of the soldiers then the Americans wouldn't bomb and shell them. He was wrong.

Somehow the Iraqis knew when the American ground troops would be coming over the dunes, and so they were given a five-day pass to go home to Baghdad and say their goodbyes. Ali knew it would be a meat-grinder, and he knew that under Sadaam desertion meant death and trouble for your family. So while he was in Baghdad he had another surgeon friend take out his perfectly good appendix. While he was in the hospital, his entire unit was annihilated.

Around that same time a Marine friend of mine named Nelson had been part of an artillery outfit that was shelling Iraqi positions inside Kuwait. Suddenly an Iraqi artillery shell slammed into the hood of the truck Nelson was standing next to, but it was a dud and didn't go off. He lived to come home and tell me that story.

Also at our wedding, only four rows back from Ali, was my friend Joe, who is an Army Ranger veteran. On the other side of the isle from Ali was one of my two mothers-in-law, whose stepbrother was part of the Army forces that moved through the same area of Kuwait where Ali had been. On another pew was my friend Johanna, whose husband has served in Afghanistan and is now training for Special Forces duty in the Middle East.
I could go on, but you get the idea. The best phrase came from a taxi driver in Cairo, right after the invasion of Iraq three years ago, who upon finding out that my brother was half Iraqi and half American said, "Ahhh ... is funny. Your country is attacking your country."
I have often become frustrated when I have heard people in my church make statements like, "Remember who we're fighting here," before they lead prayers for our military victory. A professor here at Asbury once said that the only two choices we have is to either "convert them or keep them from hurting us."
Well ... first of all you can't fight and win a "war on terror." Terrorism is a method, not a country or ideology. I once heard it said that fighting a war on terror is like having the flu and declaring a war on sneezing: you're only attacking the symptoms. As long as there have been people, there has been terrorism.

But what frightens me is the mindset in this country, and in the church, that seems to think terrorism was born and raised in the Middle East, and if we can take out the Muslim Arabs then the world will be a safer place. Put this idea up against the idea in large segments of the Arab world that America has, in a sense, created terror herself with her policies toward the Middle East. So the cycle continues, and we have "become a monster to defeat a monster."

So who is the enemy? I believe that on this side of the cross, according to the scriptures, that "we are not fighting against people made of flesh and blood, but against the evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against those mighty powers of darkness who rule this world, and against wicked spirits in the heavenly realms" (Ephesians 6:12)

If you track through the whole story of scripture, you see that while God may have fought battles on Israel's behalf in the Old Testament, the trajectory was always towards to the cross, which redeemed God's intention for creation. Jesus set for us an example of living and witnessing that intention through loving, serving, and forgiving our enemies. The way of Christ was not to kill and destroy those who had abused and killed him.

Imagine what would have happened if the entire mass community of Christians who prayed so fervently for our troops to "defeat the enemy" would have instead prayed against the real Enemy and for peace between humanity.

So who is the enemy? We must first remember that the enemies of America are not the enemies of God. I have Iraqi Army veteran family and U.S. Army veteran friends. I have been raised by Southern Methodists and Shiite Muslims. I cannot abdicate the gospel message of Christ to a bomb, but can only bear the cross: the ultimate battlefield victory over the Enemy.

Omar Al-Rikabi is the son of a Southern Methodist mother from Texas and a Shiite Muslim father from Iraq. He is in his final year of earning a Masters of Divinity degree from Asbury Theological Seminary, and a declared candidate for ordination in the United Methodist Church.

More 9-11

Jim Harnish is a preacher I respect and am challenged by. He has posted some of the sermons he preached before and after the fall of the Twin Towers. It is uncanny how well he hits the mark. A few days before the attack he preached on "Why do people suffer?" using the test where Jesus speaks of the collapse of the tower Siloam. I encourge you to

Resurrection - tall order or rising high?

I ended my last piece on “hell 2” with the question that that piece begs: “What about resurrection?” I also said a while back that I would have appreciated someone in my life to give me straight answers. One of the reasons people may have hesitated is that a straight answer often begets more questions. But here goes…

I believe in resurrection, but I don’t believe in life-after-death in the conventional sense of my sense-of-self continuing after I die.

Resurrection is the idea that death cannot contain a person who has truly lived to the full. There is more to the idea than just that, but at the very least, everyone understands it thus far and I think almost anyone can agree to that. People whose lives have been touched by someone who has died continue to hold that person in their memory. The more fully that life was lived, the greater the reverence for their memory both in quantity of people (fame) and quality (authority?).

Going further requires a belief system that I have long since come to doubt. This is not to say I have dismissed it entirely…

The Christian idea of Resurrection is that one day all believers will be bodily and spiritually reassembled to live together for eternity. I have already expressed my doubts about an eternal life-after-death so I won’t go into that here.

Just as science has helped us to see that St. Paul and co had the wrong idea about how the universe is arranged, I believe science is unravelling the substance of physical resurrection. St Paul assumed a three-tiered arrangement of the universe: an underworld of spirits or hell; the earth (flat); and heaven above. He was wrong about that. St Paul also believed in a resurrection of all souls who believed in Jesus, something he thought would happen very soon – even in his lifetime. He was wrong about the timing and I think he was wrong about the bodily resurrection.

But I won’t go into the historical debate here. I think this quote says it all:

"The truth of the Resurrection shouldn't be the real battleground. I think what we want to do is try and rise above that and ask, 'What is the metaphoric truth of Easter?' The real power of Easter is the transformation that, as Christians, we believe continues to happen in people's lives....If Easter is about proving the veracity of some historical event that happened 2,000 years ago, that misses the point." Rev. Steve Huber of St. Columba's Episcopal Church

That about sums it up for me. (You can read more at Religious Tolerance.)

St Paul may have been wrong about the three-tiered universe – a forgivable shortsightedness given that he didn’t have a telescope. But that doesn’t stop us looking heavenward when we pray. Why? Because it is a helpful idea to imagine God and heaven as larger than us – above us – beyond us: God draws us toward an ideal. The metaphor has survived scientific scepticism. I have the same orientation toward the Resurrection. The story of Jesus’ rising from the dead is a powerful metaphor of his new Body in the form of those who choose to follow him and continue his memory in their own lives and commitments. If I doubt the historical validity of the Resurrection that does not impinge on that metaphor and therefore my belief is the more powerful.

I also think that believing in a metaphorical resurrection is more consistent with the idea of Incarnation: God becoming human. When I say, “Jesus lives!” I am declaring that Jesus’ teachings, values and power are real, present and available right in front of me by virtue of the activities of those who follow him.

"For the Son of God became man so that we might become God" Athanasios the Great, Archbishop of Alexandria

Resurrection draws us toward the divine ideal of a fully alive human being who transcends death by virtue of the power of their ideas, commitments, actions, values, teachings and so on.

I am more than merely a “skin-encapsulated ego”. Resurrection is something that begins even before death as my values, ideas, memories, loves infect the people around me. Resurrection is most apparent at funerals where people avoid the bad stuff, preferring to highlight the good. This is not always a bad thing, or at least we should acknowledge that to reconcile ourselves to a person’s mistakes begins the work of resurrecting their life and honouring their memory.

He said it...

In light of earlier posts on heaven and hell as well as today being the anniversary of Gandhi's naughtiness, I want to point to a foreword writen by his grandson Arun Gandhi. He expressed better than I could hope to what I believe. What's more, he says it in so few lines.

9-11

I am reminded by Tobias Winright of Sojourners that today is the 100th anniversary of Gandhi's first act of civil disobedience in Johannesburg. The Gandhi Institute has some useful information about present day attempts to make non-violence a useful part of social change even when dealing with terrorism.

Some people believe that non-violence and civil disobedience are useful strategies when it comes to individuals and groups trying to exercise social change from grass roots but that it has limited applicability to international relations.

It is worth remembering that things like the the Land Mine treaty are ventures that involve nation states. The fight for a World Court (that has teeth) is similarly an attempt to deal with violence at the level of macro politics.

The point of non-violent direct action is that it requires creativity to be exercised as a first resort so that one's dependence on the conventional means of resolving conflict are slowly displaced by more life-giving methods that emerge from one's context. No one method is universal because all situations are unique. Violence is universally failing yet we return to it so often!

Hopefully the UN can use diplomacy (or even sacntions) to prevent war in Iran where the US and UK were quick to rush to war with Iraq.

While you are at it, check out Ze Frank. Oh, and this one too.

Hell 2

Flop this is long!

I started wondering about heaven and hell once. More specifically: who made hell? If God made everything, then surely God created hell, which means God must take some credit or blame for it, depending on your point of view. This is true even if hell is something somebody else created because, presumably, God created somebody. The nature of hell has a marked effect on to what extent God’s creation of hell is palatable. Is hell a place of eternal pain – a consequence of a lifetime of sin? Is hell another chance to change one’s ways? Is hell something we create for ourselves while we are alive? Is hell something we are living in now?

These are all ideas I have entertained and still use to some extent in the sense of Myth. Each one deserves a paragraph or two.

The first idea doesn’t make sense to me. How can “3 score years and 10” of life determine an eternity of pleasure or punishment? The maths seems unjust. Surely those enjoying eternal bliss have a troubled conscience? “Hey Dudes, wanna go watch the Aurora Hades tonight? I hear the conditions are just right for a spectacular display. There’s been a new unseasonably large influx of the damned what with population explosions and contextual theology and all.” Let’s not even begin to talk of the people I love who qualify for hell and how I’m going to feel if I’m on the other side of the fence.

OK, so maybe it’s like a supplementary exam. You failed the first time. You got enough points to get a rewrite, which means you spend your holiday studying but, hey, at least you get a second chance. Problem is, it’s a no-brainer. Someone sits me down and says: “You screwed up and this is your last chance or we put the cement shoes on and dump you overboard. No more Love Boat.” I know what I’m going to do. Which begs the question: how come all the confusing life-stuff in the first place? Why not just get to point and say that? It’d save an awful lot of pain and angst… and paper.

The answer could be that life is a test of one’s character. This begs the question as to what the correct answers are. It still seems jolly unfair cos some people’s circumstances make passing all the more possible according to their own criteria. Furthermore, nowhere is it made clear what the requirements are. Most people just end up following the path of least resistance. And even those who seem to break the mould – well, what is the mould? And who says the mould should be broken. It all boils down to not knowing what the pass mark is…

Somewhere in the equation, life and eternal consequence have to match up in a sensible way. Maybe, my actions in life create the conditions of life-after-death. Nothing much changes, it’s just that I get to see it all in glowing heavenly colours – no more denial. Imagining the worst hell for someone like Hitler best captures this idea. Such a hell would be to spend eternity with the 6-million+ people whose death he engineered, especially if they were kind and forgiving. Which opens the opportunity for Hitler to actually accept that forgiveness and we’re back with the “why not just get to the point,” question again.

Mmm… I hear someone saying “freewill”. That’s important. Life is about exercising choice and life-after-death is the consequence of those choices. I also hear some heckler shouting “grace”. Spoiler. I was on a roll.

I still think that exercising choice and then accepting the eternal consequences doesn’t make sense. I can’t imagine why I would want to stop using freewill after I die. There may come a moment when I get fed up with the 70 virgins and the all-you-can-eat-no-way-it’s-fattening buffet and decide to rebel – just for the hell of it J. What then? Is there another tier to this arrangement, a hidden level in the matrix? Or maybe I just get booted across the divide to spend some time with homosexuals and Hindus. Hopefully I’ll find that sufficiently intolerable that I will see the error of my ways. Can I bounce across again?

Ah, grace. Ja, that’s a good one. We only get into heaven by virtue of God’s grace. There is nothing we can do – we are damned anyway. But forgiveness is ours if we choose to take it. So when do I get to choose: only now in life? Why not after death? Is there a free will off-switch in the coffin? That makes no sense at all. Heaven would be a pretty boring place filled with automatons going, “I told you so.”

Which brings us to the “empty hell” idea. That’s just a nice way of saying hell doesn’t exist. We die and we all hang out together for eternity and we gotta sort out the mess then too, just like we’re trying to do now. Only God’s a little more REAL, so we’re all REALLY motivated! So, again, why not just get to the point! What’s up with the cloak and dagger stuff – now you see God, now you don’t. Ho hum, in circles we go…

Either God has a bizarre sense of humour or there is no life-after-death.

Either: God sets up this world so that we live our lives constantly wondering whether God exists, wondering what the rules are - or not; hoping like crazy we’re getting life squared up – or not; sometimes realising it’s a lost cause and we may as well just give in and love – or not. Then one day we’re taken up to meet the Dude and it’s “Where is your ‘accepted forgiveness’ visa?”

Or: Hell and Heaven are a fiendishly clever idea to make us think about these things so much that we’ll realise the urgency of fixing this planet up quick cos THIS IS IT.

I believe… There is no heaven and hell. Death is final in the sense that my self-awareness will one day cease. If there is a heaven and hell, then - to the extent that one can speak of such things in geographical terms - I believe it will be a single place something like Hitler making friends with 6 million Jews. I just can’t see two places working very well.

I still believe that heaven and hell are useful Myths for describing earthly realities. Our choices do have consequences, but the ultimate value of these choices isn’t felt in eternity; these choices affect the here and now. We are creating heaven and hell all around us, all the time. “Who’s in and who’s out?” is not a helpful question anymore. It’s more about “What do you want and what are you prepared to do to help get it?”

Resurrection? One thing at a time…

Out

When I started this blog, I had a hidden agenda. A long time ago, I started wondering if I really believed this Christian stuff. It has been a long struggle to figure out what I believe. I tell people almost daily that they must take responsibility for what they believe, but those words sound hollow, when I have seldom done so myself. I decided a while back that I needed to do so for the sake of my integrity, but also because ideas do not develop and mature without challenge.

So far I have expressed opinions on this blog that tend toward the fringe of what is considered Christian, but it remains within those boundaries. Most people who read this blog have been supportive, occasionally offering questions and even resonance. But I have yet to venture – publicly, at any rate – into the more… err… disturbing (?) ideas that I now consider my own. That is not to say that they are original, but rather that I own them, take responsibility for them and accept the consequences.

This is another reason I named this blog “Dassies Bounce” – I want to see if my ideas can stand the test of debate – can they bounce – “does he bounce?” I have no doubt that I will change my ideas as people respond to what I write – that is part of growing. But will the fundamentals change? That is what I want to see…

I started asking questions very soon after I became a Christian in 1986. I found it irritating when people evaded giving straight answers. Sometimes people would do this because they were covering up ignorance, other times because they hoped the mystery would keep me searching, I guess. I really would have liked some straight answers, especially when I asked, “What do you believe?” but even more when I asked, “But how then can you reconcile…(add conundrum of choice)?” So, stop me if I start to sound like I’m beating around the bush.

I look forward to your interaction. Keep watching to see if something tickles or itches.

"Blessed are you..."

To truly change the world, we have to make ourselves vulnerable. That is part of the essence of the Jesus idea. That vulnerability, while offering hope to the world, can lead to our own demise.

Gunmen recently attacked Yabonga, the organisation Yvette works for. They made off with computers, cell-phones and money. Fortunately, no one was hurt. As a result of this trauma, the staff at Yabonga are considering closing down their VCT project. They correctly recognise that the attack is a direct result of their increased vulnerability as a result of this project.

VCT stands for voluntary counselling and testing. The service is free to the public and anyone can come and be tested confidentially for HIV and receive counselling before and after. The attackers made an appointment earlier on the day of their attack and so were let in without suspicion.

In South Africa, this service is more important than any other single service currently offered in the sector of HIV. Behavioural change most often happens when people are engaged in relationship that is non-judgemental, but informed. If South Africa hopes to overcome this disease, it will be through the implementation of more sites like this.

I believe that there are ways that Yabonga can increase their security without diminishing the accepting nature of the VCT service or doing away with it. But right now the most important thing is for the staff to know that what they are doing is important, even if it is frustrating and bruising.

Perhaps you would consider writing to them – just a sentence or two – to give them courage.

Fresh

My favourite time of the day is the morning. My favourite pasttime has always been running, although biking is catching up. My favourite daughter is Katie. Jurgen, my running partner and Althea, his wife, joined me for an early morning up to Rhodes Memorial. The photos are lekker.

Dhilbert... Dilbhert

Again, thanks Marc for keeping me sane:

http://dilbertblog.typepad.com/the_dilbert_blog/2006/08/silent_h.html