19 July 2014

Some Christian resources for thinking about the independence referendum

The referendum creeps ever closer and the churches (and individual Christians) in Scotland are gradually articulating their views for and against independence. Here is a – hopefully representative – sample of resources to help you think about Scottish independence from a Christian perspective:

  • The Doctrine Committee of the Scottish Episcopal Church has recently published a piece in its Grosvenor Booklet series entitled The Church and Scottish Identity.
  • Last month the Edinburgh SOLAS group hosted a debate on Scottish independence. Someone has kindly put the entire 2 hours on Youtube, so you can watch it here.
  • In the run-up to their General Assembly this year, the Free Church of Scotland asked four of its members – Donald Macleod, Neil Macleod, Gordon Matheson, and John Ross – to prepare discussion papers for and against independence.
  • At its General Assembly this year the Free Church of Scotland (Continuing) accepted a report entitled Scottish Independence: An examination of the Scottish Government's proposals for Scottish independence.
  • Doug Gay’s contribution to the debate on Scottish independence at this year’s General Assembly of the Church of Scotland can be downloaded here. Unfortunately, Douglas Alexander’s contribution does not appear to be available.

12 July 2014

Idealist: sounding the death knell

Judging by the statistics, most readers of this blog will know that I have been a faithful user of Blackwell Idealist (a simple fully indexed free text database) since the mid 1990s. It has several strengths that have kept me going back to it after every dalliance with another database:

  • It is extremely simple and rapid.
  • It is utterly reliable. To give you some idea of what I mean, I have used it on every version of Windows from Windows 3.11 for Workgroups through to the 64-bit version of Windows 7 Professional (and for several months I also used it on Linux Mint with the help of Wine) and unlike some well-known programs I could mention it has never crashed and it has never lost any data.
  • It is easily manipulable. For example, unlike most databases you can create new fields within a record on the fly.
  • These days it effectively has no limits regarding size of database: originally it was limited by the amount of RAM available, but it is a very small program and the 8GB of RAM on my laptop would have no difficulty in handling an Idealist database far larger than the largest one I currently have (which contains about 25,000 records).
On the other hand,  I increasingly find myself rubbing up against its other limitations:
  • It works exclusively with ASCII plain text files. If you want store other kinds of data (e.g. images), you have to look elsewhere. In an ideal world, I need a database that allows me to store Unicode text files and equations in LaTeX.
  • While you can create links between records or to other files, it is not straightforward and the links have to be updated manually if any changes are made to those records or files. These days, life would be so much simpler if these things were done at least semi-automatically.
  • Most seriously, I’m not sure how much longer it will work with Windows. It runs happily enough on Windows 7 Professional, but the setup program does not work so I had to install it manually by copying the Idealist program directory from an earlier version of Windows into the Program Files (x86) directory and create shortcuts manually.
So, after years of dithering, I have started the long, slow process of moving my data out of Idealist. In the end, I have settled on two programs rather than one:
  • Evernote is a relatively simple notetaking program with some database features, which I now use as my primary notetaking application. My main reason for opting for it was the ease of syncing notes between my Android tablet and my laptop, which means that I no longer need to lug my laptop around everywhere. It is also a convenient home for a couple of my smaller databases, but it is not sophisticated or robust enough for me to trust it with my main databases.
  • For my main replacement for Idealist, I have finally settled on ConnectedText. Like Idealist, it seems to be flexible, powerful and reliable. Unlike Idealist, you can throw Unicode and LaTeX at it and it won’t blink. Because I’m into mind mapping in a big way, I also appreciate its visual navigator, which displays how individual records are linked to each other.

03 July 2014

Thought for the day: perfection and simplicity

A quote from Antoine de Saint Exupéry’s Wind, Sand and Stars (which I found in an interview with the landscape photographer Andris Apse in the current issue of fll magazine):

Perfection is achieved, not when there is nothing more to add, but when there is nothing left to take away.

I like that: it seems to have all sorts of applications. Apse quotes it in relation to his search for perfection in photography, but it could equally well apply to writing. I can certainly think of any number of books that would have been improved by judicious use of the red pen.

Beyond the realm of the creative arts, it reminds me of the process of abstraction that is necessary in solving most physics problems. Back in the dim and distant past when I taught physics, it struck me that students most often got into difficulties because they didnt simplify enough.

And, come to think of it, it could also be an expression of Franciscan simplicity – that radical process of self-emptying which cuts away all the clutter, internal as well as external, until all that is left is the image of God.

01 July 2014

Three sexes?

Some months ago I took part in a performance of Rossini's Petite Messe Solennelle in Poland. It wasn't an entirely authentic performance: the choir was much larger than the numbers called for by Rossini. He specified a choir of twelve singers including four soloists. Specifically, on the autograph manuscript he wrote:
Douze chanteurs de trois sexes, hommes, femmes et castrats seront suffisants pour son exécution ; à savoir huit pour le choeur, quatre pour les solos, total douze chérubins
i.e.
Twelve singers of three sexes, men, women and castrati will suffice for its execution: that is, eight for the choir, four soloists, in all twelve cherubim.
[I note that Novello refrained from reproducing this in the prelims of their edition of the score.]

18 June 2014

Ask the Beasts: Darwin and the God of Love

A review of Ask the Beasts: Darwin and the God of Love by Elizabeth A. Johnson (London: Bloomsbury, 2014)

After an introductory chapter setting out her rationale for a dialogue between Darwinian theory and (relatively) orthodox Christian theology, Johnson embarks in the next three chapters on a much more detailed introduction to Darwin’s theory than is usually found in books relating science and theology. Readers who are not familiar with the theory will probably find this material helpful. However, there is perhaps too much emphasis on Darwin’s own account of the theory at the expense of current understandings. This is understandable in view of her interesting attempt to portray Darwin’s method as essentially contemplative, making him a potential model for Christian attention to the natural world, but it detracts from her claim to be establishing a dialogue between evolutionary theory (rather than a very dated expression of it) and theology.

In chapter 4, she does attempt to bring her account of evolution up to date. Unfortunately she allows herself to be sidetracked into an entirely predictable criticism of social Darwinism. She misses the point that the deployment of evolutionary theory beyond the bounds of biology was inevitable: We are metaphor-making animals so powerful explanatory principles in one discipline will inevitably be deployed in other disciplines. She also allows herself to stray way beyond evolutionary theory into brief accounts of cosmology and the anthropic principle.

The next four chapters offer a theological perspective on the natural world. Chapter 5, ‘The Dwelling Place of God’, suggests that a Trinitarian framework is fundamental to a properly Christian perspective on the natural world and our place within it; I agree, but I was disappointed that this did not come across more clearly in the rest of the book. On a more positive note, she does make very good use of biblical creation traditions here and throughout the book. While I take her point about creation as God’s dwelling place, I can’t help feeling that it would be more helpful (and more orthodox) to see God as creation’s dwelling place. Chapter 6, ‘Free, Empowered Creation’, explores law, chance and causality in light of Christian theology, asserting the genuine freedom and integrity of creation. Chapter 7, ‘All Creation Groaning’, puts the suffering of all of creation in the context of the cross of Christ and resurrection. Chapter 8, ‘Bearer of Great Promise’, picks up the evolutionary theme again and relates it to the Christian concept of continuing creation: the emphasis here is very much on the directedness of creation towards a final fulfilment.

The concluding pair of chapters focus more particularly on the place of humankind within the cosmos as envisaged by Johnson. Chapter 9, ‘Enter the Humans’, offers a thumbnail sketch of human evolution from Australopithecus to the present day concentrating particularly on our growing impact on global ecosystems and concluding with a call to ‘a deep spiritual conversion to the Earth’ (p. 258). 10. The final chapter, ‘The Community of Creation’, picks up where Chapter 9 left off: she critiques the ‘Dominion’ paradigm based largely on Genesis 1.28 and suggests instead a ‘Community of Creation’ paradigm, which makes more use of the Old Testament wisdom and prophetic traditions. She ends by calling her readers to a Christian ecological vocation informed by the latter paradigm.

I was surprised by the relative absence of reference to Franciscan tradition in this book. There are ample resources within that tradition, which could have helped enormously in the development of Johnson’s argument. Francis himself is arguably at the very root of the Christian form of the community of creation paradigm with his vision of the fraternity of all creation. Duns Scotus offers us a Trinitarian conception of creation, a view of Christ’s relation to creation that puts matter in a much more positive light than, say, the Augustinian view, and his insistence on the unique ‘this-ness’ of every creature. Even Bonaventure could be helpful except that she is too quick to accept Paul Santmire's criticism of him, which makes him out to be more conservatively Augustinian than is actually the case.

In conclusion, I was disappointed by this book, not because it is a bad book (on the contrary, she writes very clearly and makes a good case for Christians to take the natural environment more seriously) but rather because I had hoped for more.

09 June 2014

No uninterpreted spiritual experience

I have long favoured Karl Popper’s slogan, ‘there is no such thing as an uninterpreted observation’. Science never merely follows the evidence’, nor is scientific knowledge merely deduced from mythical theory-neutral observations. On the contrary, all observations are theory laden; they are shaped by prior theories/guesses about the way the world is, which determine what counts as evidence and what observations are of interest to us.

From time to time, I come across people who make the valid point that spiritual experience is much broader than whatever we might experience within the confines of religious worship. However, there is a danger in this generous view of spiritual experience: it is all too easy to slide towards the view that all experience of the transcendent is somehow spiritual. For examples of the sort of thing I mean, see Peter van Ness’s Spirituality and the Secular Quest: almost anything from art appreciation to scientific enquiry, from surfing to sex can be described as spiritual.

In response to this point, I am inclined adapt Popper’s slogan to spiritual experience: there is no such thing as an uninterpreted spiritual experience. Experiences of transcendence or of ecstasy are relatively commonplace. We feel awe at the majesty of nature; we are moved to tears by a work of art. Sex, drugs, (rock and roll) – all have the power to create ecstasy. And human beings have for millennia found nature, sex and drugs to be potent sources of spiritual experience. But whether/how we see such experiences as spiritual requires something more; it depends on the interpretative framework through which we view them. For example, a convinced secular humanist will see in a drug trip only altered brain chemistry.

What initially made me think this way about spiritual experience was an interview with a Buddhist monk that I heard some years ago. He had been brought up as a Roman Catholic before converting to Buddhism in young adulthood. Imagine his surprise when as a result of intense spiritual exercises he began experiencing visions of the Virgin Mary. His teacher wisely pointed out to him that this was only to be expected because his unconscious was attempting to process the experiences he was having in terms that were already familiar to him.

One of the things that the world’s religions do is to offer competing frameworks to help us make sense of our experiences of ecstasy or transcendence. Of course, this means that one religion’s spiritual experience may be dismissed by another as a simple case of overindulgence or anathematized by a third as a case of demonic possession.

As a Christian, I am primarily interested in whether and how my experiences of transcendence might be interpreted as the activity of the Holy Spirit? How might we determine whether the Holy Spirit is active in a particular situation, experience or relationship? As it happens, the New Testament offers a handy set of guidelines for discerning the activity of the Holy Spirit: the Spirit is present and active wherever there is a growth in ‘love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control’ (Galatians 5:22f.).

19 May 2014

Augustine – 1; Lawrence – 0

Some months ago I blogged about Collin Garbarino’s 2014 reading programme for Augustine’s City of God (here). I decided to try it for myself and have managed to keep up. But now it is time to admit defeat.

Why? Well, in part because, although I have been able to make time to read the passage for the day, I have not been able to find the extra time needed to think about important sections when they have appeared. But mainly because, as Garbarino put it, ‘Augustine crams a lot of ancient learning into this one book’: if I have to read about what one more obscure Roman philosopher thought about the nature of demons . . . ! City of God may be the most important philosophical and theological work of the late Roman period, but the sections of lasting importance are seriously diluted by long tracts that can only possibly be of interest to historians of the period. (And to make matters worse Augustine was not above engaging in tendentious and ad hominem attacks on his opponents – I’m afraid it is only too obvious at times that he was a rhetor rather than a philosopher.)