Philosophy: Objectifying "the" Environment

Of all of the debates that fall prey to absurd polemicism, protection of the environment is one of the worst. On either side of the debate, you seem to have people entirely incapable of discussing a concern that by all rights they should both share. The liberal side seems willing, at times, to die for the environment, and to treat as callous an evil anyone who will not. On the other side, concern for the environment is seen as a kind of pagan madness.

The problem in the debate about the environment is... well... just that - "the" environment. That we talk this way indicates a mistaken psychology. Speaking of "the" environment says that we have objectified it, made it into a thing other. It is that objectification which radicalizes the debate. Do we or do we not sacrifice to care for this thing. But the environment is not a thing, not in the way a shoe or a rock is a thing. It is not, properly speaking, the environment, but our environment. Our environment emerges out of a vast network of trees, and rocks, and people, our environment extends beyond us, it supports us, and, in shaping us, it is even a part of us. This is not the "our" of possession, but the "our" of inclusion, the our we use to speak of our own bodies - it is in us and we are in it. If we recognize this, the radicalism on both sides should disappear. We could not pretend it was a thing disconnected from us to which we owe no fealty, but we could likewise not see it as some static other to be nobly sacrificed to.

Theology: We Bewail our Manifold Sins and Wickedness

In the 1928 Book of Common Prayer, the confession of sins says "We acknowledge and bewail our manifold sins and wickedness, Which we, from time to time, most grievously have committed, By thought, word, and deed, Against thy Divine Majesty, Provoking most justly thy wrath and indignation against us." Harsh words. I've heard it complained that they make it sound like we commit murder every week. And yes, they do, because we do. 


My roommate Josh recently wrote a post over on his blog about hypocrisy. In that post, he talks about a distinction between the cynic and the hypocrite. The cynic is one who sees the flaws of the system he is a part of, withdraws from them, and claims for himself superiority. The hypocrite, on the other hand, is one who sees the flaws of his system, bewails them, strives to get out of them, all the time realizing that he is a part of them inescapably, and that because of this he will always be part of the system.


We live in a world of horrendous injustice, our entire economic system is tied in with the exploitation of the weak, the destruction of animals, the rape of our world. What is more, this side of the Resurrection, we live as fallen bodies oftentimes overwhelmed with desire that leads us to sin. We cannot withdraw, not until Christ returns and we are transformed. We must fight it, but we must, always, realize that we cannot escape it. We sin each day, even in ways we don't realize. I sin when I look at another person and put her into a box (vain Hollywood girl), I sin when I eat chocolate harvested by slaves, I sin when I sit in a car whose fumes are destroying the planet. There are even situations, as I have talked about before, where any action I can possibly take is wrong (kill the one, or let the many die?) 


This isn't to say that I am some wicked or worthless person. I have been made in the image of God, and remade in the Resurrection of Christ. I have been sanctified and my sins are no longer held against me. I am beloved of God. When I bewail my wickedness, what I bewail is that I am not yet whole. I have been made clean, the seeds of the Resurrection have been planted in me, but they have not yet blossomed. 


This is why we cannot judge. But for the irresistible Grace of God, what would we be? 

Theology: The God Who Intervenes?

He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For by Him all things were created that are in heaven and that are on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or principalities or powers. All things were created through Him and for Him.  And He is before all things, and in Him all things consist. (Colossians 1:15-17, New King James Version)

I take a kind of perverse pleasure in taking various sorts of personality quizzes on the internet. Some time ago, I took the "whats your spiritual-type" quiz over at Beliefnet. Leaving aside the nonsense "spiritual vs. religious" distinction the quiz rests on, it also starts with one of those terrible questions that has no correct answer, but it's useful because it serves to bring up a problem in much modern discussion of God. The question goes as follows:

Q1. I believe that God:

1. Exists and intervenes in daily events

2. Exists but does not intervene in daily events

3. Is a spiritual ideal, not an actual being

4. Does not exist

All of these answers are wrong, but the first is the one that's important for the purposes of this post, because it's the one I, as a believing Christian, am supposed to pick, but it's terribly wrong. 

You see, the god who intervenes is a fundamentally deist god. At first, this seems like an absurd statement. Afterall, the very definition of the deist god is one who does not intervene in creation. What is crucial, though, is that the deist's god is a thing like all the other things in creation, he just happens to have been first, and be more powerful than what he has made, but in roughly the same way. If you took some natural thing, and cranked it's power up to 11, it could match the deist god. It is because of this that the deist god can create the world and then leave it to run. 


The god who intervenes is merely a modification of that god, a being who made other beings which run on their own, and from time to time sticks his hand in to shuffle things around. But that isn't the Christian God. The Christian God is not merely the creator of the world, nor is He merely another agent intervening in that world - He is the creator and sustainer of all things. All things subsist in Him, He is the ground of being. This isn't to be a pantheist, God is separate from His creation, but His interaction with it is not like our interaction with it. To talk of God intervening implies that God could not intervene, or that anything which is could in some sense be without Him. 


Truly, in Him we live, and move, and have our being. 

Liturgy: The Feast of St. Thomas Aquinas

It's a little cliche, but I'm inclined to think that the greatest philosopher the world has yet seen is St. Thomas Aquinas, that brilliant fat man. Today, in the liturgical calendar, is his feast. His thoughts, along with Aristotle's have been one of the strongest influences on my own philosophy. I encourage all of you to read him, or at least read about him, and may your minds be lifted up to God. In the words of the liturgy for today's feast:

Almighty God, you have enriched your Church with the singular learning and holiness of your servant Thomas Aquinas: Enlighten us more and more, we pray, by the disciplined thinking and teaching of Christian scholars, and deepen our devotion by the example of saintly lives; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Life/Philosophy/Theology: Why I am a Vegetarian

Yes, for those of you who don't know, I am now a vegetarian. It's something I've considered before, and rejected. Rejected because I didn't want to be a burden to my family. But now I'm on my own, and it's a real possibility.

But why do it?

There's many reasons to give up meat - health, protesting the killing of animals, the price of meat, the desire to feel superior to others, etc.

I suppose there's a mix of all of those in my decision, but there are two specific things I wanted to share.

First, there is the matter of respect for life. Of all of the things in God's creation, life is perhaps the most incredible. I don't think there's anything inherently wrong with killing and eating animals, but I do think it needs to be done with respect. I don't think we do that anymore. We've industrialized the consumption of animals, and have thereby turned life into pure product. I think this is a problem, and I've chosen, as much as I can, not to participate in it.

Of course, there's a certain hypocrisy here, since plants are also life, and I do continue to consume them.

I have further chosen to make the giving up of meat into fast dedicated to God, and thereby a prayer. We typically think of prayer in mental terms, and that's a very important part of prayer, but it isn't everything. God is the creator of matter as well as thought, and just as we can direct thoughts to Him, we can direct actions. A little bit of discipline is a good thing in a life, and I have dedicated this discipline to God.

Liturgy: Two Meditations on Epiphany

Today is the Feast of Epiphany. As Fred Clark over at Slacktivist pointed out, this seems like a strange name for a holiday. How does one schedule an epiphany? The answer is that epiphany, in this sense, does not mean precisely deep revelation in the sense it means today. Rather, it derives from a term which signified the appearance of a god to men. Thus, Christ's appearance and His revelation as the incarnate Deity was an epiphany. Of course, it was also an epiphany in the current sense, since in Christ "dwells all the fullness of the Godhead bodily"(Colossians 2:9)  and so the mystery of God was made known to the world. Here are some meditations on what this glorious day symbolizes.

The Suffering of Job

Job is a confusing book. All to often, individuals try to reduce it to a theodicy - an explanation of why there is suffering in the world, but I think it resists that move. Job's friends and the youth Elihu offer explanations of Job's suffering, but then God shows up... and He doesn't give an answer. He says, "hey Job, I'm God, I made stuff."

It's awfully confusing.

Fred Clark, who is perhaps one of my favorite bloggers, recently did a post about Epiphany. In that post, he discusses an idea that God learned something from His incarnation. As often with Clark, I disagreed with his primary premise, but he made a very interesting connection in his post I don't think I ever would have made.

Job suffered, and God appeared. Yet, despite His revelation He remains mysterious, He doesn't give an answer to Job's suffering.

Then God became man, Jesus died on the Cross, and Job's suffering was answered.

The Last Shall Be First 


One of the events celebrated on Epiphany is the the visit of the Magi. Three wise men from faraway lands came, and bowed before the baby Jesus, demonstrating His kingship, the manifestation of God to men. Wealthy men came from faraway lands and bowed before the Nazarene son of a carpenter. The poorest of the poor lifted up above all mankind.

Truly, the last shall be first.

Life: Back in the Saddle

Life has been a bit crazy lately, mostly in a good way. On December 10th I hoped on a plane, flew to England and had an absolutely amazing time with some of the coolest people in the world, in addition to finding out a lot of very useful information about going to seminary there. I did end up getting stuck stranded for four extra days by the snow, but that's not really so bad (and got to fly back first class as a bonus).

When I got back home, I very quickly had to move out in order to live closer to campus (I'm having to live without a car now), and classes have now started for me. 

All that to explain my absence. I'm back now, though, and have a new piece in the works. I've also got something special lined up. Tune in .