Book Recommendation

I am about halfway through the new book by the good bishop, aka. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Ostensibly it is about the remainder of life after conversion, and particularly the importance of character. I’m finding it really stimulating and helpful. The book is trying to fry several fish at once, which at times makes it seem a little unfocused, but its main thoughts emerge clearly enough. The main point could be put like this (apologies to the author for my sloppy summary):

Humans have been created with a job to do. The Ancient Greeks like Plato and Aristotle knew this, and this is why they talked about virtue so much. Virtue is just a rough-and-ready translation of the Greek word arête which also means something like ‘excellence’, or ‘success’. The Greeks answered these questions falsely, but they were onto something with making virtue an important ethical category. To answer the question, ‘What is it to live a virtuous life?’ or ‘What is an excellent human life?’ or ‘What is a life of success?’ we need to have an answer to question of the ends of humanity. What is the purpose of humanity? What is its role in creation? What did God create and redeem humans to do? Answering these questions Christianly, must involve telling the story of the creator God, his relationship with Israel, and the job the disciples took upon themselves after the resurrection.

The book’s answers to these questions have been a little inspiring. At once they have tried to be more descriptive than ’give glory to God’, and more motivating then ‘don’t sin’. Here’s an excerpt to whet your appetite.

Worship and stewardship, generating justice and beauty: these are the primary vocations of God’s redeemed people. And the habits of the heart, mind, and life to which we are called are designed to form us, gradually and bit by bit, into people who can, with the hard-won “second nature” that we call virtue, freely and gladly take forward these tasks.

- N. T. Wright, After You Believe: Why Christian Character Matters (2010), p. 83

Like his previous Surprised by Hope (2007), this is a really accessible book that is aimed at the popular level. It does a great job of retelling the whole biblical narrative, and presenting an account of how disparate parts of the bible fit together into the one story. Along the way it reclaims some important spiritual terrain of everyday life that evangelicals of the past few decades have been in danger of abandoning – including the importance and role of aesthetics, justice and work.

Heartily recommended!

p.s. I have a North American copy of the book, published by Harper Collins. In the past, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has published his popular level books with different publishers in North America and the rest of the world, and sometimes with entirely different titles. So if you’re hunting for this book in Australia, it may have a different name and cover. All part of his cunning ‘shock and awe’ infiltration tactics designed to distract us I suppose!

Faith & Scepticism

“We walk by faith, not by sight”

– 2 Corinthians 5.7

In the Ancient world, there was a school of philosophy called scepticism. This word didn’t quite have the same connotations of pessimism, laziness and doubt as it does today. Rather, it meant someone who was first and foremost an inquirer, an investigator. They wanted to know the truth, and were trying to hunt it down.

Ancient sceptics thought that as you investigated an issue, you would turn up good reasons for one idea, and then good reasons for an opposite idea. As you tried to find the truth of the matter, you were confronted with two incompatible options, each which seemed as good and reasonable as the other. And so it turns out that we never have reason to commit ourselves one way or the other. We suspend judgment. We adopt a detached and uncommitted attitude to whatever the issue was.

If this is the case – how did sceptics think they could find their way around life? How can we commit ourselves to beliefs? How did this not paralyze them?

Sceptics thought that all that is available to us is to ‘live by appearences’ or ‘live by sight.’ That is, they thought that just because they cannot commit themselves to something 100% doesn’t stop things appearing to them in a certain way. Being rationally uncommitted or ‘on the fence’ doesn’t do away with other desires that help us get by – habit, desire, want of approval, fear of the law, basic needs, social enculturation and so on.

Paul told the early Corinthians Christians (who were, to point out the terribly obvious, Ancient Greeks) to live by faith, not by sight. Could he have meant: because we know God in Jesus, we have a kind of certainty that the sceptics were right to point out is never available to humans otherwise. Therefore, we don’t need to settle for living by sight like the sceptics prescribed, but can have a kind of certainty that can motivate and direct us through all sorts of desires, fears, needs, cultures, and laws?

On Living Your Philosophy

Nowadays, if a philosopher finds he cannot answer the philosophical question ‘What is time?’ or ‘Is time real?’, he applies for a research grant to work on the problem during next year’s sabbatical. He does not suppose that the arrival of next year is actually in doubt. He insulates his ordinary first order judgments from the effects of his philosophizing

– Myles Burnyeat, The Original Sceptics (1998), p. 92

I recently attended an open lecture at the Presbyterian Theological Centre, in which UK philosopher/theologian/blogger Paul Helm spoke about the intellectual biography of John Calvin. One of his central points was that although Calvin wrote in the sixteenth century, his writings are much more at home in and indebted to the world of ancient thought, rather than modern thought. Helm suggested that it makes more sense to read him in light of Plato, the Stoics and Augustine, then it does to read him in light of medieval, early modern or Enlightenment figures. Helm used the above quote from the brilliant classicist and philosopher Myles Burnyeat to bring all this into focus.

Burnyeat argues that what classified the ancient philosophers was a commitment to live their philosophy.  These days, he says, philosophical activity is thought to be more theoretical inquiry then it is life guiding wisdom. Philosophers are expected to write logically tight, rigorously argued, interesting and abstract papers, rather than wander the market place in search of an honest man (like Diogenes did), or heroically stare death in the face because you are convinced of the maxim that nothing can harm a good man after death (like Socrates did).

Helm’s point was that Calvin bought into this ancient conception of philosophy, and it permeated his thinking about religion. Religion is far from a theoretical, cool, abstract, detached type of inquiry (at one point, Helm surprisingly stated that Calvin derisively refers to this kind of activity as ‘theology!’), but religion is meant to energize and guide your life, it is meant to be the practical wisdom that you consult in all things.

I found this to be a really interesting suggestion from Helm, and one I will keep in mind as I read Plato and (hopefully!) Calvin/Calvinists. But I suspect that his allegedly neutral-historical-lecture had an implicitly pointy provocation.

I felt like Helm was suggesting that those Christians who claim to stand in Calvin’s legacy ought to think about whether they are of a similar frame of mind. Do we tend to insulate our first order beliefs from our religious convictions? Do we live our religion? Are we more like the ancient philosophers whose knowledge and thoughts led them to do certain (crazy!) things? Or are we more like the insulated academic who professes to be a specialist in radical theories of time, but has no doubts that tomorrow will come like it always has? Are we insulating ourselves from our knowledge of God in the face of Jesus Christ?

Why Christians Care About Art

Our aim is to prevent our guardians bring brought up among images of evil – as it were in a meadow of bad grass where, cropping and grazing in abundance, they little by little and all unawares build up a huge accumulation of evil in their soul. Rather, we must seek craftsmen with a talent for capturing what is lovely and graceful, so that our young, dwelling as it were in a healthy place, will benefit from everything around them. Like a breeze bringing health from a good place, the impact of works of beauty on eye or ear will imperceptibly from childhood on, guide them to resemblance, friendship, and harmony with the beauty of reason.

– Plato, Republic (ca. 380 BC) III. 401 b-d (italics mine)

Art can be one of the trickiest topics of conversation for a Christian to broach. Within Christian circles, putting forth an opinion on creative arts can lampoon you with unsolicited theological labels – the favourite poles being ‘staunchly fuddy-duddy’ or ‘carelessly liberal and experiential’. Outside the church, a Christian criticism of art is often accused of speaking to a subject which it has no expertise on, or of attempting to impose its cultural norms on society

In this quote from Republic, Plato shines a light on the nature of art which I think resonates with the Christian perspective. Plato suggests that art has a powerful ability to shape the way people see the world. It can shape the character, values and goals of an individual in a way in which other influences cannot. The distinctive feature of art is that it is able to do this ‘little by little and all unawares’. It is able to do this ‘imperceptibly’. Christianity holds that it is then extremely important as to what content an individual is being exposed to ‘little by little and unawares’.

What I think this means is not that a person listens to the Beatles in 1966 and then decides to throw away outdated mores about sex in 1967. Rather, that a person listens to the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, Janis Joplin, the Grateful Dead, the Who, Jimi Hendrix and the Doors, reads On the Road and a little Allen Ginsberg, notices that people go to jazz and beat clubs now and then, and pretty soon finds it ridiculous to hold onto traditional views about sex in any strong sense.

This explains why many Christians hold firm views about public Christian music and architecture – it is important for someone, somewhere to get the message right about what this art is communicating so that individuals are not ‘little by little and unawares’ led in different directions on important matters. It is important for the individual Christian to attempt to scrutinize the message of the music, books, paintings and architecture she chooses to surround herself with in her private life, since these will everyday, ‘little by little and unawares’, be affecting her character and outlook.

So this is a handy little insight from Plato about the Christian approach to art in church and private life. However, it seems to open a can of worms in regards to public, political life. Plato is famous for being an über-conservative in regards to art and politics. From his fundamental premise as outlined above, he went on to ban the majority of artists from his theoretical, ideal city, and suggested that the ‘guardians’, an elite class of warriors who serve as the political leaders of the society, should be in control of the message which all public art will disseminate. Today, it is hard not to think immediately of some of the totalitarian regimes of the Twentieth-Century and some current non-liberal societies which seem to have picked up this idea and ran with it to the harm of its citizenry.

However, I think this begs a helpful question for the Christian. If we agree with Plato that art has a unique and powerful ability to convince individuals of ideas which define their lives, and if we hold that there are better ideas which ought to define people’s lives, what ought the Christian to think of important and influential pieces of public art? Of popular movies, TV shows, significant novels and even billboards which are currently shaping most people’s environments?

God is Spirit

That God is spirit, generally, does not mean simply that his is not material but that he is able to encompass both what we call spirit and what we call matter. To have spirit is to be open to the other – God, the human other and the world; to be spirit, as God is, is to be able to cross the boundary between creator and creature, even to the extent of God the Son’s becoming identical with Jesus of Nazareth by the power of the Spirit. In scripture, God’s being spirit appears to refer to the capacity of the creator to cross ontological boundaries: to interact with and become part of that which he is not.

– Colin Gunton, Act and Being (2002), p. 115

In this confusing little passage, Colin Gunton attempts to suggest a way in which Greek Philosophy needs to be filtered out from the Christian understanding of God. The Bible states that God is spirit (John 4:24) and that he is creator. Gunton suggests that Christianity, fascinated with Greek Philosophy as it was in it’s early days, has then rushed into trying to erect neat theological categories in which to express these propositions – spirit contrasted with matter, creator contrasted with creation, self contrasted with other. These seem like helpful little categories, but Gunton suggests that what is more fundamental to God than being spirit and not matter,  or to being creator and not creation, or to being other and not one of us, is God’s inability to be bracketed in such dualisms, and his unique ability to cross between these categories.

Far from undercutting any sensible attempts to speak of God accurately, I think Gunton suggests that this has the possibility to allow for the development of a uniquely Christian vocabulary which aspires to speak truthfully and deeply about God. Gunton suggests that this ‘ontological modesty’ is actually a unique and fundamental hallmark of Christianity: that is makes sense of believing that God became human, that God died,  that God is knowable by those on the other side of the divide, and that God is more deserving of worship than any other being.

Prosperity and Ethics

For the present let this be our fundamental basis: the  life which is best for men, both separately, as individuals, and in the mass, as states, is the life which has virtue sufficiently supported by material resources to facilitate participation in the actions that virtue calls for.

– Aristotle, The Politics (tr. T. A. Sinclair), 1323b36 (italics mine)

In this short passage Aristotle asserts that there is a fundamental connection between prosperity and the ability to live a virtuous life. He holds that there is an obvious connection between having the basic material necessities of life and ethics. This seems to make a lot of sense – you need food and shelter and other basic goods to survive, and without these you may not be able to live an ethical life.  You may be forced into crime or deception as a matter of survival, or you just may not have the means to live altruistically. The playwright Bertolt Brecht summed this up in a catchy way when he said, ‘Food first, then ethics.’ You’ve got to live before you can be concerned with the question of how to live well.

In the west, this mood can act as one of the largest barriers to altruism and acts of kindness. People say: ‘If I had a better house, I would be a more hospitable person’, ‘If I had more freedom in my week, I would be able to practically help others’, ‘If I had more money I would be able to give much more to charity’, ‘If I had the time, I’d be able to be informed about the needs of peoples and countries on the other side of the world so I could help’.  These common sayings seem to make sense in the same way that Aristotle and Brecht’s remarks make sense. But all these remarks make ethics dependent on a certain kind of comfort and security being secured through material resources. But ought ethics to be contingent upon these facts of life in this way?

A different approach to charity and benevolence was suggested by Jesus, when he said:

So do not worry, saying, “What shall we eat?” or “What shall we drink?” or “What shall we wear?” For the pagans run after these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness and all these things will be given to you as well.  — Matthew 6.31-33

Wittgenstein on Soul and Body

The human body is the best picture of the human soul.

- Ludwig Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations (1953), II.iv

A caricature of the Christian hope paints Christians believing that when they die, their souls turn into angels, and they float off to heaven to play the harp. A caricature of the Christian faith paints Christians believing that the spiritual things, such as prayer and a personal experience of God, are more important than the physical things, such as health and work for political reform.  Real Christianity is far from either.

What I like about this brief remark from the great Twentieth Century philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein is how it latches onto something closer to the Christian hope and faith then these caricatures. In the New Testament, there are very few distinctions drawn between a person’s soul and body.The sharp contrast between the soul and the body is something more at home in Greek Philosophy then Christianity.  It is more common for the writers and figures of the New Testament to address people as whole people – soul and body.

In fact, the New Testament often blurs the lines between soul and body in a way that is suggestive that perhaps the human body is the best picture of the human soul: Paul encourages some new Greek converts to Christianity to stop going to pagan temples and using prostitutes because as they take part in these physical activities they damage their soul (1 Corinthians 5-6, 10-11); Jesus insists that the character of a person can be known through their actions (Matthew 7:15-20, 15), physically being dunked in water as well as eating some bread and wine is unreservedly said to affect a persons spirituality, and Paul clearly lays out the Christian hope as being the physical, bodily resurrection from the dead – that is, the way Christians in the future will experience spiritual reconciliation with God is through a resurrected body (1 Corinthians 15).

If you’ve never read any of these bits of the Bible I encourage you to check them out. They make it impossible to believe that Christianity is a religion that cares only about the spiritual, and they are suggestive of a way to understand the interrelatedness of the material and mysterious parts of the person through a simple holism. A holism I think Wittgenstein sums up nicely.

Is Disagreement in Ethics a Virtue?

The most striking feature of contemporary moral utterance is that so much of it is used to express disagreements; and the most striking feature of the debates in which these disagreements are expressed is their interminable character. I do not mean by this just that such debates go on and on and on – although they do – but also that they apparently can find no terminus. There seems to be no rational way of securing moral agreement in our culture.”

– Alasdair MacIntyre, After Virtue (1981), p. 6

This quote points to two large question which loom over any ethical discussion, and which moral philosophers often try to ignore. Why is there disagreement in the first place? and What would it even take for one of us to win? I suspect most moral philosophers take it for granted as an unavoidable fact about human culture that there will be different conceptions of good and bad, right and wrong, and also that reaching some sort of consensus on these issue is really beyond the grasp of humanity. The best moral philosophy can do is try to control the tide, and be a means of recommending certain ethical theories over others; or give a rational and articulate voice to people’s present desires. However, if you let these two questions sink in a little bit, they become disturbing and uncomfortable.

MacIntyre suggests that the reason for the confusion, and the reason for the interminable nature of the debate is due to the Enlightenment. During this movement, Christian and Greek ways of talking about ethics were rejected, but the vocabulary was kept – justice, virtue, good and evil. Removed from their context, these words quickly became fluid and muddy, to the point where no-one was really sure of anything in ethics anymore except that there was disagreement, and the prospect of reaching a universal consensus was laughable.

Christianity presents an alternative to contemporary moral debate. It holds that many important meta-ethical and normative concerns are able to be resolved, and that this result would be of great importance to human life. It also suggests that the present confusion about moral issues is not a natural thing, and reaching clarity and consensus on a number of moral issues is a possibility for humanity.

Confusing disagreement with the virtues of open debate, many believe that disagreement qua disagreement is a valuable thing. Perhaps it is time to ask – where has moral disagreement got us as a culture? Why do we have the knee-jerk reaction to value disagreement, and be skeptical of consensus?