So, if I put my name in quotes, am I saying something along these lines? If so, a vague image from my past comes to mind, an image of an at-risk student who, when I would call him or her out on some behavioral issue, would respond by saying, “You don’t know me!!” And who, if he or she had engaged the education I was trying to facilitate in his or her life, would have had the intellectual development to follow up such a statement by going to the board to write his or her name in quotes, at which point I would have responded by saying, “You may leave the temple,” because, clearly such a student would have had the cognitive skills necessary to successfully engage the world, such as it may be.

After saying all this, I guess my conclusion is that putting one’s name in quotes is to essentially say, “You don’t know me” Although, this gesture need not have the connotation of strident self-defensiveness that I too often saw among my at-risk students. It could merely be drawing attention to the irony that the consciousness which allows us to be self-reflectively aware of the other is also, in some measure, the source of alienation from the other. Perhaps this is not better than strident self-defensiveness, but at least it’s a little less in-your-face.

Oh, and just to clarify where I stand on the relationship between the world as we conceive it and the world as it is in and of itself, I am not a card carrying postmodernist, but rather something of  critical realist, which is to say that though we see the world, we see at a distance, kind of like looking through a dark glass. And, regarding that hypothetical kid and his or her leaving the temple, I would disagree with such a one’s epistemological convictions, but dang if I wouldn’t be impressed by his or her intellectual sophistication.

*******

“Hey babe, I love you… Well, that is… I love you through the mental representation I have of you in my mind, which to some degree may approximate the real you, but neither you nor I will ever know.”

******

In watching the clip I must admit that I felt defensive, as I understand the importance of both history and philosophy in relation to the claims of Christianity, and yet I also understand that the verity of Christianity is beyond the scope of either of these fields of inquiry. In discussing this with Simon, however, I made note Mr. Maher’s choice of audience to confront with his supposedly faith damaging arguments. In short, Bill chose the type of Christian one would likely find at Christian theme park. Yes, this is a bit judgmental of me, but I imagine that behind the scenes Bill and his staff did their demographic homework regarding the kind of audience that would provide the most entertainment to be on the receiving end of Bill’s sharp wit. The Christians Mr. Maher confronts are your basic middle class, wage-working types, who don’t find a Christian theme park a bit kitschy, and who very likely don’t read a lot of scholarly articles and books, but who have a faith that emerges from what historian and biblical scholar N.T. Wright refers to as “an existential kicking of the tires.” In other words, they believe for deeply personal reasons that do not rely upon historical evidence or tight philosophical reasons, but rather rely upon the self-authenticating experience of the Gospel that gives them strength to live in a difficult and challenging world (I am aware that this is a deeply pragmatic understanding of faith, but addressing this is best left for another post).

At this point I was ready to call Bill an intellectual bully, but as I did research on the film, I found that he did speak to some intellectuals, as well as what might be referred to as “high level” types of various religious institutions. So, against what I initially thought, it appears that Mr. Maher was even handed in his demographic selection for those who would be on the receiving end of his sardonic wit.  Having made this concession, however, it is clear that Religulous is not a sincere documentary about the problem of religious belief in modern society. To begin with, the title is a mash-up of the words “religion” and “ridiculous,” which briefly and powerfully expresses Bill’s convictions about the subject and provides a cue to the audience as to what position they should take in relation to the forthcoming content of the film. And then, without even seeing the documentary, I do know enough about the dynamics of visual and verbal rhetoric that through the process of editing and framing I bet those of a religious persuasion are not genuinely given a chance to appear credible.

As I have further reflected upon this clip and the whole intent of the film, it seems to me that the problem Bill attempts to confront regarding religion and rationality is one that is inherent within his basic disposition toward the world. To illustrate what I mean, if Bill had confronted someone who was able to defend himself, or better still, who was able to persuade Bill that religion is a rationally acceptable response to the complexities of modern existence, though the battle may have been won, the war would have been lost. In short, if the reality of God can be supported and defended within the rationalist presuppositions of Bill’s worldview, then God would not be the kind of reality worthy of the worship and awe that monotheistic religions ascribe to him.

In the clip I viewed, Bill brought up the Holocaust to drive home the absurdity of believing that God is all good and all powerful (a typical monotheistic assertion). In response to this, the man Bill accosted (interestingly an actor who portrays Jesus in a dramatic reenactment of the crucifixion) made the assertion that God’s ways are beyond us. As was to be expected, Mr. Maher was visibly unimpressed. All of this reminded me of the first time I read Night, a loosely autobiographical novel  about a young man’s experience of surviving a death camp in Nazi Germany. This book was penned by Eli Wiesel, who about the problem of God’s providence and the Holocaust experience once said something to the effect that he did not want to hear an explanation where those two realities can be reconciled. In saying this I don’t think Wiesel was repudiating God’s existence. He was in fact a professor of Religion at Boston University, who taught courses about literature, religion, and memory. Instead, I think Mr. Weisel was committed to breaking all idolatry regarding our notions of God, and an idol is what one would have if one could rationally account for the Holocaust and God’s existence. Likewise, an idol is what Mr. Maher would have if he ever found an account of religious belief that was acceptable to his intellectual framework, for it would be merely a projection of  what he already worships: his own powerful mind and likely a belief in the all encompassing sufficiency of reason.

Perhaps the problem that prompts me to ask this question  is some notion of objectivity. It seems that in order to examine our thinking we have to somehow get out of ourselves, to get an overview of the process of thinking, but this doesn’t seem possible, as we are locked within the structures and process of our thinking.

*******

The responses I have received so far are challenging me to clarify the nature of my question, both for myself and for you all. (I am a dialogue dependent thinker). So, I give you the following, which I lifted and revised from the comment section:

So, I think I am inquiring about our ability to understand the phenomena of thinking as a whole, and within that I am wondering about the relationship of our thinking to the world or reality, or to whatever it is we are thinking about. And, it seems that the problem in this attempt to examine this relationship is that it would require us to look at our thinking as one object in relationship to another object, but I don’t think our thinking can be presented to us just as an object, since it is itself the subject involved in the process of examining the relationship.

*******

The following are brief articles or posts that touch upon or are related to the question I am posing:

Subject-Object Dualism

Subject-Object Problem

Putting the Golden Mean aside, the other day I was listening to NPR and I heard a report by their ombudsmen, Alicia C. Shepherd, about bias and the media. In this report, Ms. Shepherd mentioned that “between June 9 and Oct. 19, 2008 [her] office received 282 emails specifically accusing NPR of favoring Obama and 252 emails accusing NPR of favoring McCain.” She further said she had received hundreds of more email that charged the network with being too conservative or too liberal. As the report continued, Ms. Shepherd went on to give further information and statistics regarding NPR’s coverage during this election season, the summation of which was that both candidates received roughly equal coverage, and if anything, McCain received slightly more.

Beyond the amount of coverage, Ms. Shepherd also acknowledged that a complete picture regarding media bias must address “how a broadcast network covers political candidates.” Elaborating on this, she gave a few examples of how different types of coverage can leave different types of impressions upon the listeners, even when the coverage is analytical and not promotional in nature.

Perhaps the most illuminating factor that Ms. Shepherd addressed regarding media bias was the related issue of listener bias, which is to say that people hear through their values and convictions, which influences their impressions of how content was presented. Not wanting to place the impression of bias solely upon the listeners, however, Ms. Shepherd referred to a report conducted by Timothy Groseclose, a political science professor, which stated that 18 of the 20 major media outlets were just left of center in relation to the average American voter.

In the end, what I found interesting regarding Ms. Shepherd’s report was the location of bias. Is it something in the media or something in the listener? My own personal conviction, one that I think was implied by Ms. Shepherd’s report, is that though journalists are professionals who are trained to approach news coverage objectively, no one is ever completely free from values and viewpoints when it comes to handling and presenting information.

So, do you think complete objectivity is possible? Given human nature, what should we reasonably expect from journalists and the news media? How sensitive and alert are you to your own biases? How do you strive to be as truthful or objective as possible? Are there news sources you recommend, and do you recommend them because they are fairly objective or might they just align with your convictions?

To give an example from this campaign season, in an attempt to build a case for Obama’s lack of patriotism, much was made over the fact that while refurbishing and personalizing the plane to be used for his campaign the controversial senator removed a picture of an American flag from its tail. In its place was put the symbol for Obama’s campaign, which some read as a clear sign of his egoism, or of his placing self interests above American interests. Given this discrete bit of information, I can see how his actions can be interpreted in this manner, but the deal is this bit of information needs to be put into a larger context and connected to other facts.

The plane Obama refurbished, once he became the official candidate for his party, was a part of North American’s fleet of planes and as such it bore the commercial markings of this company, among which was a stylized American flag on the tail. It was this commercial symbol that Obama removed, a symbol that at best expresses that North American is an American company, and at worst could be seen as North American’s attempt to cash in on patriotic sentiments for commercial profit. Either way, it was a copyrighted symbol that was not intended to be used by whoever wants to as an expression of personal patriotism. Putting all of these facts together, in the context of how campaign vehicles are traditionally decorated, and it looks like his actions are better read as an expression of his taking ownership of the plane for its new, non-commercial purpose. This reading of the facts seems even more accurate when one compares his plane to McCain’s, which also doesn’t have an American flag on it, and is clearly decorated with the purpose of promoting McCain’s candidacy.

Another example from this campaign season comes from the attempt to besmirch McCain’s military service by circulating a confession that he made on the television show “60 Minutes,” back in 1997. In this confession, it is a fact that McCain said, “I am a war criminal… I bombed innocent women and children.” In order to understand this apparently plainspoken statement, however, it must be put into the context. In short, McCain was expressing his sorrow over the fact that after beatings, torture, and other forms of severe pressure he finally capitulated to his captors who forced him into making this confession. Clearly, in this context it is seen that those words on McCain’s lips were not a genuine confession of guilt, but rather an expression of the underhanded and heinous techniques that opponents in a war will use to gain a psychological advantage.

Why am I giving this lesson on critical thinking and facts? First, because I want it to be known that I am not generally impressed by the idea that facts speak for themselves. If my family, friends, colleagues, and acquaintances are going to present facts to me, they need to know that what I’m going to look at is how one makes connections between those facts. Moreover, I am generally going to suspend judgment on the belief that further information is needed in order for me to make an informed interpretation or conclusion. I realize that there are some instances where conclusions have to be quickly drawn, where one cannot indefinitely wait for further information, but my impression is that rashness and not paralysis is the prevailing vice of our political climate.

My second reason for this lesson is really more about attitude than thinking, although, in my experience the two are connected. Regarding attitude, I am generally disappointed with how my Christian brothers and sisters conduct themselves during election seasons. Moving beyond my fear that many of them have allowed their theology to be enmeshed in the culture wars, I am disappointed with how often I have heard people I know and admire say things about political candidates that goes against an ethic of respect, which I think is the younger brother of love. More than any others, I think we Christians should be zealous to uphold the dignity and respect of all people, now matter how flawed they may be, for we believe that all humans are created in God’s image. Moreover, I imagine that if all Christians acted zealously for the dignity of all, instead of zealously for political gain, they would affect the kind of change they hope for when they seek political advantage. This is not to say that politics doesn’t matter, it does. However, in all things, whether politics, business, education, or whatever, we need to conduct ourselves in such a way that we reveal the hope we have beyond the the limited hopes that these things offer.

For those who don’t know, the incarnation is the event of the eternal Son of God becoming human, truly and fully human. Stated simply, the significance of this event is that God meets us where we are at, and I mean this on multiple levels. God meets us where we live in time and space, and in all the promises and limitations of the cultures we inhabit. On a more personal level, God meets us in the uniqueness or our individual being, which is seen in the ways we are strong and the ways we are weak; it is also seen in our temperaments, habits, and basic outlook. In saying this, it is important to understand the incarnation in the context of the Gospel, which the apostle Paul defines as “the power of God unto salvation.” Regarding the incarnation, this would imply that God meets us where we are at, not to just hang out with us, or to leave us there, but to lift us into a higher level of being, so that we can engage him more fully and enter into deeper communion with him.

All that I have shared here has implications for how I will critically approach the study of history, particularly regarding how I interpret the significance of past events, and the evidence I use to make conclusions. This approach is something I am in the midst of developing, but it is something for which I have some basic ideas that I can begin to share. However, I will save this for a later post. In the mean time, let me just say that the incarnation is typically understood as a mystery, and it is this concept that I would apply in my approach to history.

When I first heard this aphorism, what initially came to mind is that throughout Church history people—mystics particularly—have had experiences of the divine that were beyond words to convey. Then I thought about the apophatic tradition within the larger Christian tradition, which basically asserts that God is beyond words and that we finite creatures would do best by acknowledging the limits of our understanding and language. Drawing upon my own experience I remember instances of becoming frustrated by the baggage of language when trying to express a shift in my understanding of God that came as a result of some kind of experience. It seems that this frustration arose because of the tension between the new and the old. I had a new experience, and yet I only had the same old words to express it, words that were bound by a tradition of usage that I feared would inevitably distort what I was trying to communicate. In light of all this, I find sufficient reason to affirm Nietzsche’ assertion. Words like “God”, “love”, “salvation”, etc, are all too often the empty husks of cultural decay that inevitably lull the soul into numbness. Likewise, I have too often read through books that gave descriptions of God, or the work he has done, only to get a sense that the reading gave me some kind of mastery regarding these things. This should never happen when talking about God. And yet, in spite of all this, even as this post demonstrates, I have an impulse (as do many others) to speak about God.

I find some resolution to this tension in the words of the apostle Paul, who when writing to the Christians at Corinth stated, “My message and my preaching were not with wise and persuasive words, but with a demonstration of the Spirit’ power, so that your faith may not rest on men’ wisdom, but on God’ power.” For Paul, when it comes to speaking theological truth, the Spirit must make present the divine realities the words point to, and thereby give new life to words that are in bondage to decay and death. This new life, however, is not just given to words; it is also given to those who respond in faith to the words that are spoken about what God has done in Jesus Christ. In fact, it is probably most proper to say that words come to life for those who are coming alive. In this manner, Paul would very likely respond to Nietzsche by saying, “You only find words for something already dead in your heart because you are dying.” This leaves me with a final question for myself and for any others who might care. If words like “God” and “love” and “faith” are dead is it because they are no longer vital, or is it because we, in some very real sense, are dead?

The answer to my question is found in a willingness to set “sense” aside, and become a child, who with a trusting heart is enabled to enter the theological playground where this question was formed. The reason this is so is that the answer to this question in not something that is derived through the sophisticated disposition common to adulthood, a disposition that seeks to get below the appearance of things. Such an approach causes us to miss both the question and its answer. Instead, the meaning of color is discovered in that disposition of heart and mind that allows humans to experience the sublime. Though I risk being criticized as anthropomorphic, I assert that it is within our very subjective response to the glory of color, particularly as it is found in nature, that we find its meaning. It may be true that we as individuals have a variety of responses, but generally we have all had moments of awe and wonder. For me, it often happens during summer when the late afternoon Sun illumines the leaves of all plants and trees on the valley floor, and after that when during sunset the sky is ablaze with intense hues of red, pink, yellow, purple, and orange. It also happens when I look at the deep dark blue of the midnight sky punctured and punctuated by white shining stars. I could easily go on to name numerous other instances, but the point is that such instances exist in the first place. In these moments, when we are arrested by the glory of color, we are enabled to perceive what creation is always declaring, that God is good, and this is the meaning of color.

So, the next time you find yourself in such a moment, don’t dismiss it as the freak response of human consciousness; rather embrace such a response as that which mostly deeply connects you to who God is and his heart toward you. After all, a child would easily accept this as true.