2 more of my cents on Classic Controversies, pt II

Homosexuality!

Aaagghh!

Ok. So, far too much has been said by christians on this 'topic' (What?! it's PEOPLE!), but I do have one thought that I want to share.

First off - the reason i have been thinking a little bit about it is because, as some of you may know - I am likely headed off to seminary next year. Specifically, an episcopal seminary. But not an ordinairy episcopal seminary, but one where the rift of TEC (The Episcopal Church USA) and ACNA (the counter-TEC, re-aligned polity) is quite present-in-dialogue, AND where, if I am to attend (and maybe even one-day be ordained?!) I need to first get confirmed, which means I need to make a choice as to which 'denomination' to be confirmed in.

And this is where the 'issue' of homosexuality has arisen - since it is one of the prominent points of division between TEC and ACNA, and I have been investigating in my mind whose declarations on the 'issue' I think are more truthful. On the one hand I do feel like many priests and bishops in TEC patently ignore the fact that the Bible does seem to do the opposite of affirm homosexual practice qua homosexual practice (rather than as 'loving relationship' as the dialogue is often re-framed as within TEC). On the otherhand - the fact that ACNA is intentionally in communion with many provinces in the global south who are at least tacitly complicit with the very hateful, homophobic statements of the govenments alongside which they preside (I.e. Uganda, Nigeria, etc.)

What to do?!

Ultimately - a combination of factors (other theological problems with TEC, like, the de-emphasizing of a historical Resurrection, etc; the fact that if I chose my local TEC diocese, the bishop wouldn't let me attend Nashotah House (the seminary I hope to attend)) pushed me into ACNA, but along the way I had this thought, following the scattered fragments I have learned along the way (Foucault?) about the development of 'homosexuality' as an identity, as opposed to just a practice which one could partake in, even if one had a wife, family, etc (like it was in Rome):

If you take away from an understanding of the humans, of the self, the notion that we are created beings, that we are caused beings, and that - and now we move into the realm of the Christian - we bear the image of God, and are of such worth that God willingly died to re-unite with us (all of which were indeed stripped from the what-we-now-call anthropology held by the average western man during the great secularization that began in the mid 19th century.), what is the next-deepest level of experience? That is, if a meta-physical understanding is pulled, what then remains as the most powerful, primal thing we experience? why - our desires of course?! All humans experience the overwhelming power of our primal desires: to eat, to reproduce, etc, and these forces do verily shape a large portion of the societies that we observe and construct. Here then is a foundation. And so it makes sense that when variations of desire are present - that is, the fact that around 1 in 10 people feel sexual attraction to the same sex - the desires are already in the realm of 'Identity', and so it add's up, quite logically, that in today's world we don't conceive of humans with homosexual desires, but rather - homosexuals, as a noun, since Identity is grounded and explained by our desires.

Right? I guess I just mean - the math of it makes sense.

As far as right/wrong, can-you-be-gay-and-a-bishop-as-well, etc. I am very reticent to weigh in since any public words cannot be used for good, i don't reckon. That said, this is a 'living room', and not a forum, and so I shall say just this: When I imagine living on the New Earth, with a resurrected body, I don't imagine my friends that in this life 'are' gay (quotation marks - not because it is a choice or any of those other foolish evangelical postulations, merely that 'are' is a form of 'is' which is an ontological statement, which, considering my previous argument's is only how we talk about homosexuality (as Identity) in the last 150 years, and I want to leave that part of it open to debate) will still be so in the next life. Now, obviously it is very dangerous to make declarative statements about today based on speculations of a supra-physical future (!), indeed, sexual desire may be entirely absorbed into other forms of love in the New Jerusalem, but since it is the case that our pre-lapsarian bodies had genitals and sexual differentiation, it may be the case that it still exists somehow (although - maybe not? since we will neither 'marry nor be given in marriage', which would definitely have conjugal consequences) in the hereafter. Oh man. I realize that my intial idea here (gay people won't be gay in heaven) might be a bit more problematic than i realized. shoot.

Ok, but my first point still stands - that homosexuality as identity is both new and understandable.

Ok, I don't know if i have actually contributed anything at all? Have I already mis-spoken so quickly and in so doing injured the hearts of my gay brothers and sisters? Lord have mercy, I hope not.

05/16/11 UPDATE: apparantly some other people are musing along similiar lines: http://tgcreviews.com/reviews/the-end-of-sexual-identity/

2 more of my cents on Classic Controversies, pt I

Evolution!

AAgghh!

But seriously - Here are 2 beefs that I have been chewing on re a scientific understanding of the universe (i.e. Big Bang, planet formation, origin of life, species evolution, etc):

I am struck by an apparant glaring problem of scale. What i mean is: serious study (because come on: this does NOT count) of the natural world has been taking place for what, 400 years? at best? and the pretty-much-agreed-upon age of the universe is, what, 13.75 billion years? Now, I'm not saying the Universe isn't that old, indeed it jolly well might be, but what I am saying is how on earth can we speak even close to definitively about what has happened in this gargantuan time-period when we've only been even looking at it for 400 years! By comparison (I did the math), it would be like watching Einstein in action for the last 1 min and 13 seconds of his life (and having never heard of him or met him before), and deducing from it that he was a Nobel Physicist, a patent clerk, an agnostic Jew, the discoverer of General Relativity, and wore a blue checkered shirt on the day before his 7th birthday.

There's no way you could hazard anything more than a guess at such things! when you have only observed for 1/10^-8 of the time-frame!

Rather - with a tad more humility about the observational prowess of homo sapiens, I side with a Wendell Berry Poem I just read:

“On the Theory of the Big Bang as the Origin of the Universe” **

I.

What banged?

II.

Before banging

how did it get there?

III.

When it got there

where was it?

Beef #2:

I just realized the other day just to what degree 'science' (and by this i mean the body of knowledge thus far 'discovered' via the scientific method: empirical observation, hypotheses testing, etc) fit's the bill of being a religion. That is, when we look, sociologically, at the role a religion has in a given society, we see, among other things, that it is a body of knowledge and/or narratives that the adherent relies upon to explain the so-called 'big questions' of life. Namely, Where did the world come from, why does it exist, what is my role in it, etc. Science is happy to offer an answer to these questions, and like many religions offers itself as a foundation in which to ground all understanding and experience. Now, whereas a strict evolutionary stance does - as many christian apologists from Lewis on have noted - restrict consciousness to only being a tool to aid species survival, and not - as many scientific philosophers seem to negelct - an ability to truly apprehend the fundamental nature of the universe (itself an onto-theological claim), would seemingly lead all those who adhere to science qua a religion into a sisyphean worldview at best, the advancement of the medical sciences and tele-communication have allowed most scientific believers to re-adopt ('re' because this belief crashed and burned the first time around. cf. WWI) a science-is-making-the-world-better as their existential telos.

sorry, that sentence is impossibly multi-clausal. what can I do.

Anyway - what i am getting at, is NOT that science is just one religion among others. Because, of course, the claims it makes are indeed a wee bit more helpful than some of the claims of other religions. BUT I just think it would be helpful to realize the similarities between how our culture treats science, and how other cultures treat religion. Simply so that we don't swallow it all hook-line and sinker.

'cause, following that metaphor - you get caught and die.

**Hat tip to Zac Chastain for the Berry poem.

A description I aspire to:

T.S. Eliot on Blaise Pascal -

"A man of the world among ascetics, and an ascetic among men of the world."

words, words, words.

It's 1 am and i'm a little dreary. But here's a thought -

Well, to get to the point quickest, how about a little stage setting:

In a 2005 interview, Eugene Peterson says this:

"It's very dangerous to use the language of the culture to interpret the gospel. Our vocabulary has to be chastened and tested by revelation, by the Scriptures. We've got a pretty good vocabulary and syntax, and we'd better start paying attention to it because the way we grab words here and there to appeal to unbelievers is not very good."

In that vein - I was thinking about the word 'saved', as in 'salvation', and the array of other meanings this word has elsewhere in our western culture. Following the idea that the meaning we attach to any word as we hear or read it comes directly from our amalgamation of all the previous times we have heard that word used, I think we might need to re-think the use of this word as it pertains to God's actions towards us, his children, because I reckon his works have very little in common with the way we 'save' a document on a computer, save something by keeping it in the fridge, a goal-keeper saving a shot, or my savings account at my bank. I fear the polysemous nature of the word might detract from the meaning it is supposed to have when used in evangelism. Especially if the audience is unfamiliar with 'church language'.

So, for clarity's sake, i reckon we should probably replace it with something closer to the target. Like 'rescued' or 'restored', or better yet - a good, long story about what God has done and is doing through his son and through his people in the world.

I am certain dozens of theologians have already banged a very similiar drum, but this specific instance of how different the meanings of 'saved' are struck me the other day.

Ok, off to bed.

some thoughts on empathies/theodicy

So, I have been (once again) intellectually crushing on NT Wright. Found a great collection of his lectures online (here), and was listening to this one the other day, in which Tom's debate partner, Bart Ehrman (a Wheaton grad, interestingly) takes the familiar stance of 'look at all the suffering in the world: all the starving children, all the people killed by natural disasters, &c. There simply cannot be a God who is both all-loving and all-powerful, and so - since these qualities are essential to God qua God - it is doubtful that there is a God in any real sense at all.'

This problem of suffering - a derivative of the problem of evil (aka -theodicy) - is almost always posed by mentioning the large-scale sufferings around the world (hunger, disease, the holocaust &c.) - these are what cause so much upset to Dr. Ehrman, and I reckon have likewise pushed many people into agnosticism.

The trouble is - I don't buy it.

Their empathy I mean. Their sense of despair regarding all of the 'horrifying' 'tragedies' that befall so many others around the world. That is the reason they can't believe in God? No way.

I am dubious for two reasons:

1) No one cares that much about the suffering of others. I personally take pains to maintain a sensitivity to others around me. I don't watch violent or extreme movies, I read the news, I study history and I try and keep a tender heart towards the world. I have never received feedback from others that I am unusually callous toward my fellow human, In fact - the opposite. And yet when I hear about all these large-scale tragedies (and I have heard about them - I would be surprised if there exists a large-scale suffering in the world that I haven't heard of), I barely bat an eye-lid. On the contrary, when tragedy (which so far in life has primarily taken the form of untimely deaths) hits close to home, I am devastated emotionally. Crying and upset for weeks on end - often very angry and confused with God - but for some reason they have never pushed me to doubt God's presence, character and workings, and the agnostics in question likewise seem to use personal examples very seldomly. Now, with regards to empathy for global-scale pain, it very well may be the case that there is a degree of maturity that I have not yet reached, wherein a sense of the existence (and subsequently - the suffering) of others is deeper and more visceral. If this is so, then this post here is moot, but if not (and I am banking on it being 'not'), then i proffer the following explanation:

2) People who are fixated on the world's problems are projecting the anxiety they feel about their own inner-state onto the world at-large. Thus, their empathy is not genuine, and cannot be the ground for a real theodicy problem. Two objections to this idea raise themselves in my mind off the bat, but I think both can be fairly dismissed:

objection one: This is just pop-Freudian nonsense.

retort: I have seen this in several patients who admit to having mental health issues at the hospital i work at. They will identify that they have a lot of emotional tumult, and will also admit that they think about the atrocities of the world frequently throughout the day. I myself did this very thing when I was in an emotionally 'tough season' in college. In as much as 'logic' can be used when speaking of an unconscious mind, there is some 'logic' to such a projection: Like any defense mechanism, it allows the will to focus on something other than the pain at hand, while at the same time, since the issues relate by analogy, one can address one's own suffering indirectly by examining the suffering of others. Furthermore, unlike interior suffering, which is often very inarticulateable and shifting - the suffering of the world bears a more concrete and statistical character - rendering it more open to concrete helping-actions, unlike the hard-to-help crisis going on inside.

objection two: Even if it is the case that those who speak of global suffering are merely engaging in an act of psychological projection, so what? attention is still being brought to issues in the world that genuinely need help, and moreover - what external claim doesn't have it's roots in some internal pre-occupation?

retort: this objection is entirely valid. In and of itself the issue of presenting the World's suffering needs no psychological explanation, but in this argument I am examining the issue of the World's suffering as it serves in the role of a stumbling block to those who would have otherwise believed in a God. To the one who points it out as such, I think it is more worthwhile to dismiss the problem of Evil as not the person's real beef with God, but as an intellectual distraction, and instead look to more personal reasons for their reticence.

This idea of a more 'personal' hesitation as the real source for unbelief is grounded by the fact that the people who actually suffer in the great tragedies (who were around for the Rwandan genocide, who were there when the earthquake killed half the town, etc) seem to turn to religion in droves, not away from it. The developing world (which is structurally less immune to disease, disaster and tyrants) has the highest percentage of Christians and christian conversion on the planet.

Furthermore, the problem of Evil is so often presented by wealthy, white intellectuals, and I think part of the 'more personal' reasons that this is the case is the latent guilt we have inherited along with all of our money. Deep down, we realize that the nightmares that happen on an annual basis somewhere in the developing world are caused in part by the legacy of colonialism, from which our wallets are padded. When i imagine a professor like Bart Ehrman 'selling all he has and giving to the poor', for some reason I imagine his personal theodicy problems disappearing along with his Franklins. No?

Now - after having said all this about why I am dubious of the empathy of others (as I remember the Chesterton quote - 'it is one of the meanest things for a human to doubt the sentiment of another human', and this, in the Victorian era of puffery!) - two final thoughts on the still-very-real problem of Evil/Suffering:

Firstly - I think a helpful division can be made between suffering brought about by more natural causes (earthquakes, storms, etc) and suffering caused by more human institutions. By making this split I reckon a fair amount of suffering can be accounted for without having to blame God:

In the first - natural disasters - i think it is helpful to re-frame ourselves as fellow animals on this Earth. If a cow was caught in an unforeseen mud-slide and was killed, would there be a moral problem? no - it would merely be a part of how nature has always done it's thing. Likewise if we humans happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time - why is God to blame? In the second - malicious rulers and oppressive societal structures - we can see the clear connection between one person's suffering and the oppressor who caused it. Thus, a bad human, or bad society is directly responsible, not God.

Of course there is and will always be a (larger or smaller) remainder of suffering yet unaccounted for, and like any honest human/Christian, in the face of such suffering I would not propound an explanation as a source of meaning, but would rather seek comfort and healing for the wounded. But this is a pastoral thought, separate from the intellectual contention I have maintained thus far.

Thoughts?

Endnote -

My favorite anecdote vis-a-vis the theodicy problem:

My friend Zac was riding in a car with some friends of his, late at night, and they were mockingly posing 'deep' questions to each other: "what is happiness?" etc. Zac threw into the mix "Why do bad things happen to good people?" with an air of faux-self-seriousness, and his friend Jesse, who had been driving and looking straight ahead looked right at him with a face flat and serious, obviously dropping all of the pretensions of the game and said sincerely: "what good people?" ...

"There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal." - C.S. Lewis

Apparantly Auden found in the Wodehouse character of Jeeves (a la Wooster) the best literary representation of the Christian ideal - of graciousness, etc. Well, I think there's an even better version than that - to be found in the novels of James Herriot.

See, my dad has been reading to us from Herriot's 'All Things Bright and Beautiful' (you know the book even if you've never read it - they're at every rummage sale, and the not-that-great cover art always made it look like animals-can-talk fiction), and, oh man - It's amazing! Like, the most wonderful thing i've ever read (or heard read-aloud, as the case is). It's great for lots of reasons - a glimpse into what small-town life was like in my beloved England, a reminder of the wholesomeness of animal husbandry, a neat insight into the shift in farm-life that happened with the popularization of agricultural machines, etc.

But the main reason I love it, which makes the others pale in comparison, and is why i reckon it became so popular a few decades ago, is how Herriot paints the portraits of the people who inhabit his world (he is himself, the veterinarian, and narrator):

Each person he meets and interacts with is cast in such a way that they seem huge and magnificent. And amazingly, it's not at the expense of realism. there is no kitschy glossing-over of faults. Warts are clearly visible, and yet Herriot conveys what very few are able to see - and what I am referencing in the title of this post (which comes from one of the truest, most profound essays ever written) - namely, the glory of a person. As readers we are introduced to each character with such an admiring slant amidst such a frank assessment, that after just about every chapter I am bowled over by how wonderful it all is, how wonderful they all are. I would copy a selection here to show you what I mean, but a selection wouldn't do it justice (and I am too lazy). Partly because the setting (rural Yorkshire) is such an essential framing, and partly because it is strewn throughout the writing, in the adjectives preceding names and actions, that color the whole narrative. So, you'll just have to try it for yourself. But truly, his ability to capture glory, without any airs of solemnity of churchiness is incredible, and invigorating. I fear i have made it all sound too high-minded, for in actual fact - the marvelous part of the writing is how good-humored he is about everything, even his own lack of good-humor at times. It has such a sweet savor...

In sum - my life has been permanently enriched by reading Herriot. My vision of the good life, my understanding of hospitality and greatness of soul, and my love for the things and the people of this world, have now all been re-cast in the shapes of his many wonderful characters.

When i meet people, I want to see them for all the glory of who they are in their peculiarity, the way Herriot was able to.

I am so very grateful for this vision, and feel compelled to share so on this-here blog, to you three or four friends who still read on occasion.

Thanks, Pa.

No joke, this was my waking thought -

That Dietrich Bonhoeffer's tirade against 'cheap' grace, and love of 'costly' grace, is more a reflection on Bonhoeffer's typically german character than it is an insight into the truth of Christianity. I mean, come on, Germans love order, discipline and sacrifice so much. Bonhoeffer just directed these desires towards his religion.

So, you can keep all that Diets, cause the truth is, grace is kind of cheap. free even.

My Visit to Mecca

So, i experienced what i reckon to be the quintessential experience of hipster-disorientation.

Two weekends ago I was visiting my brother in Grand Rapids, MI and had the chance to go to Mars Hill on Sunday (Rob Bell's church - the Mecca of cool, new-evangelicalism). It actually was awesome, and that was the disorienting part. There i was, in a room full of 2000 people whose style, opinions and ideas were seemingly very in line with my own, participating in a church service where every element was exactly how i would have done it. The interior design was thrifty and mininalist, the screens with the words for the songs were plain black and white, and the text was set in my favorite font. The theology of the songs was solid, the preaching was enlightening and entertaining both, and we all sat there in the congregation, relaxed, with our (free to us) fair-trade coffee in our hands. For the first time in my life, there was no need to define myself by being different from the group. At conservative churches i propound my identity in my liberalism, among pagans or the very-liberal, I define myself by being a dogmatic, orthodox Christian. But there, with the other Mars Hillers (?), my identity was in accord with the group's. And my ego was stuttering - if i went here regularly, how would i ever stick out??? maybe by being MORE badass than others? by being the conservative guy? I had no idea. I realized that this is how hipsters must feel walking in to a hipster party, although - rather than try and engage in a silly game of one-up-manship, i realized that in church - my identity could be found in how invested i was IN the group: In how much i served the church and the community, in how loving i was to others, etc. And in this way I think i realized the christian paradox of losing an identity (a life) to gain it.

I wish i lived closer to Grand Rapids!

although not really, since i have an inherent distrust of the American-Dutch.

Shady, skinny buggers.

Two Vicarious Guest Posts

From a conversation with my brother, Tim:

re: the 'Slug-Bug' (or 'Punch-Buggy') phenomenon -

It must be funny to be the owner of a VW Bug, knowing that everywhere you drive, there follows a wake of people hitting each other in the arm.

From a conversation with a Gentleman at church coffee-hour:

re: people's general dislike and distrust of the police -

The speeding-ticket is to blame for the current public view of the Police. Prior to automobiles (and the speeding tickets which arrived very shortly after their invention) the generally law-abiding citizen had nothing to fear from the police, and so cops were honored and venerated for keeping the peace in the neighborhood. However, now that any average-joe is a possible culprit for doing his 10 over on the freeway, the police have become a source of universal contempt.

also - Teaser Trailer: I am ruminating on and formulating some thoughts on mental illness after observing it first hand for these several months at my current job. Hopefully there will be some good fruit here on this blog.

Buddhism

I hate Buddhism.

Well, to be more precise - western converts to Buddhism*.

For two reasons:

1) The vast, vast majority of people I hear say this are actually saying nothing more than, "I don't like paying attention to all the evils in the world, and i LOVE doing breathing-exercises that help relax me. Oh, and wouldn't it be nice if things didn't die but got to keep being re-incarnated?"

This is not a problematic statement, in itself. However, it doesn't even come close to qualifying as a religious belief, the way adhering to a theistic religion would, and yet it is the retort to, "are you religious?". It might vaguely describe a worldview, but not a religion. It is not asking for any particular devotion, it is not asking for any specific behavior, etc.

2) The few (i have only met one) persons who rigorously investigate and apply the teachings of (for sake of argument) chinese buddhism, are swallowing a pill that, to me, is impossible to swallow. Buddhism asks the seeker to believe ideas about reality that contradict every aspect of lived experience. The denial of differentiation, the negating of the idea of 'real' and 'self', etc. Now, maybe I could believe these things if they were purportedly handed down from some divine being in control of the universe, but in Buddhism, there is no such thing, so we are just supposed to swallow it as an enlightened philosophy. Well, ok, Buddhist philosophy, can you show me how this is THE truth about existence, inductively? Oh, you can't? you can only offer a few vague anecdotes? oh, that's ok, I'll believe it anyways... NOT! It would be just as, if not more sensible to devote one's mind entirely to the teachings of Zeno. A novel idea, but it doesn't satisfy the religious question.

Rant over.

I don't actually get riled up by this very frequently, I just wish people would be a little more self-aware and critical when they are doing the preposterous act many are forced to do in the west: shopping for a Religion.

*from what i understand, in the Orient buddhism is so deeply ingrained in the fabric of the various cultures with which it overlaps, that there is a situation akin to Orthodoxy in Greece or Russia, or Catholicism in Latin America: the people are buddhists regardless of the degree they practice or adhere to dogma. This sort of cultural buddhism i have no beef with, for the mere fact that I have no beef with a particular person being from China, etc.

Quote of the week

How small of all that human hearts endure
That part which laws or kings can cause or cure.

-Samuel Johnson

Seriously, Dr. J, how is it that we are not better acquainted?

These lines are two of ten Johnson contributed to his friend Oliver Goldsmith's poem "The Traveller."* I think it reflects well on the literary culture of the age, or perhaps (more likely) on Johnson and Goldsmith's friendship, that something like that could happen. That a literary behemoth like Johnson would give away some pretty classic lines (though it's not like there was any great dearth of them with SJ), or that Goldsmith would let--no, request him to do so, and then use them to end the poem, is kind of bewildering to me. Certainly it's not uncommon for poets to ask each other for advice, but they're also a vain bunch and it's hard to imagine, say, T.S. Eliot asking Ezra Pound to pitch him a few lines to help finish "Preludes." I'd be curious to know how common such a thing was, or even is now.

*Thanks, Project Gutenberg!

In Praise of Great Men, part III

"He was so commanding a presence, so curious and inquiring, so responsive and expansive, and so generous and reckless of himself and of his own, that every one said of him, 'Here is no musty savant, but a man, a great man, a man on the heroic scale, not to serve whom is avarice and sin.' "

- William James of his teacher Agassiz.

The description has also been applied to James himself.

also, 4 posts in one day! That has to be a record around here. (i've been saving them up for a while)

In Praise of Great Men, part II

"[Henley is] a great, glowing, massive-shouldered fellow with a big red beard and a crutch; jovial, astoundingly clever, and with a laugh that rolled like music; he had an unimaginable fire and vitality; he swept one off one's feet"

- Lloyd Osbourne, Robert Louis Stevenson's stepson, on William Ernest Henley, author of the poem Invictus

The Manly Ideal -

"A young soldier in an English regiment had been promoted from the ranks and given a commission in another regiment. Before joining his new command he was, according to custom, invited to a farewell dinner by the officers of his old regiment, placed, as the guest of the evening, on the right of the colonel, and helped to all the dishes first. He was a fine young fellow, but little used to the ways of the polite world and the manners of other dining-tables than the humble mess of those days in the ranks. The colonel, one of the truest types of gentlemen, did his best to put his guest at ease.

The soup was served, and then came a servant to the guest's side, holding a large bowl which contained simply lumps of ice. The weather was hot, for this happened in India, and cold drinks were an unspeakable boon. The new made officer started at the bowl. The servant asked: 'Ice, sir?' The colonel chatted merrily to him on his left. Others of the party began to see the dilemma.

'Ice, sir?' again asked the waiter.

The guest, in ignorant desperation, took a portion of the ice and put it in his soup. A smile played lightly on the faces of some of the younger officers, when the bowl was offered to the colonel, who went on chatting with the guest, and without moving a muscle of his face also dropped a piece of ice into his soup. Those who came afterward however took their cue from their colonel or let the bowl pass; and the young man breathed a sigh of relief as he thought that after all he had done the right thing."

-Abram Smythe Palmer The Ideal of a Gentleman, 1892.

A very Wheatonite thought on Freud, but still -

Despite Freud's lack of popularity amongst praciticing clinicians today, his ideas still have real currency in the popular mind. I am specifically recalling the frequency with which people reference the so-called oedipus complex whenever romance and mothers come remotely close in a conversation. And here is something I was thinking: The general form of this idea - which is Freud par excellance - that what we seek in our adult life are merely shadows and approximations of our true, real childhood yearnings, is deeply atheistic. That's sort of an boring statement; what is exciting is the converse: what we experience in childhood merely sets the stage for the adult experience, which is MORE true, more real; the love I receive from my mother opens up my world to connect romantically with a woman in the future. The foreknowledge that such a set-up requires is none other than the christian idea that there is something of a plan to the piece of work that a human is. Put another way - it is the scientific notion of causes always precedes effects that governs Freud's way of thinking. Throw some authorial (God's) intent in there, and all of the sudden there can be a narrative where incident # 1 is just a set up for Incident # 2. I like this idea, because it reifies the world we experience as adults, rather than demeans it the way Freud seems to.