Archive for May, 2007

Assault on Hunny Bees

My last post today… I promise.
Salon has a really complex but helpful interview with four bee and polination experts discussing the recent drop in bee population and the relating factors. Apparently, there are a number of factors, all of which have been proven to affect the health of the population, but none of which can account for the scale of the problem.

I think we are facing a series of problems like this, problems that are environmental in nature, and this has been a real eye-opener for me as to how poorly prepared this country and countries around the world are in taking note of how climate change or global change will impact our ecosystems. Humanity is affecting our ecosystems, and it’s very complex to determine whether this is due to environmental change or some disease. You can see now that it is very difficult to pull these things apart.

The fact that Christians aren’t leading the charge in issues like the catastrophic decline of the honeybee and other polinator population is crazy. For me, it all boils down to the really poor to non-existent doctrine of creation and ensuing experience of the world many of us have. The experts are right; if the bee population can’t sustain the polination demand, it’s not like we’re going to get our produce somewhere else. We’re screwed. Hopefully someone will write a sequel to Assault on Reason and call it Assault on Hunny in my Tummy.

Print This Post

Vanhoozer nearly kills monkey

For those of you that know me, you’ll remember that I spent three really formative and harrowing years under the tutelage of Kevin Vanhoozer in Deerfield, IL. Well, some of you may also know that during that time I helped KJV in a really small way by reading the first few chapter drafts of his Drama of Doctrine (I even got a thanks in the book for my small part). Anyway, I found this really delightful blog post on the DofD that I thought I’d share with you all. Enjoy

Print This Post

Pirates of the Never Ending Story about the Caribbean


At least, about 2.5 hrs into the newest installment of Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End (hereafter PC), I felt like it was a neverending story. Not that it was that bad, but rather that it could have been shorter. Kate and I agreed that PC would have been more coherent, less like the runon sentences you occasionally read here at TLOU, had it been shorter - this coming from someone who just watched all three Lord of the Rings movies in their extended versions! As many of the reviews have indicated, the push for action and CG suffocated the drama, although Johnny Depp’s schizophrenic routine really added a new element to the Jack Sparrow character. I’m not going to try draw any profound conclusions from the movie, because if there were any, I probably lost track of them at that 2 hour mark.

Speaking of Lord of the Rings, thanks to Jay for drawing Aron’s and my attention to The Children of Hurin (click the link for an interesting writeup), a new volume edited by Christopher Tolkien, an expansion of Tolkien’s notes on a shorter story from the Silmarillion, and the newest addition to the TLOU bookclub. Summer reading, anyone?

Print This Post

Where the Father was, there Shall I be

I guess I should have just posted my proposal! But don’t ask me for more (that is, until the proposal gets accepted and I actually have to write the paper)

Considering the importance of the Imaginary register in children’s literature, it is no surprise that the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling, the best selling children’s books ever, has some fairly typical imaginary/fantasy elements, such as wizards and witches with improbable powers. Rowling, though, has stated that her books are simply “about death”—the one element which fantasies seem to always miraculously avoid. While the genre of fantasy in its purest sense obviates death, and thus the dimension of theReal, Rowling’s book are structured such that the Imaginary realm is always running into its own limit, the paths of fantasy always being surprised by the stroke of death.
The structure of Harry’s fantasy world, and consequently the structure of the books themselves, is centered on the loss of his parents, but especially that of his father, whose specter makes an appearance in book three, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, as part of a unique time travel sequence. Unlike most time travel sequences which are structured such that an alternative time thread must be created which runs parallel to the “real” time, and which functions as a powerful fantasy of how life could be “if only. . .” the sequence in this book maintains only one history—but with a twist. When Harry and his friends go back in time to ensure that Harry’s godfather, Sirius Black, is able to elude capture, we realize that everything they go back in time to do had already been accomplished by their time traveling selves. This would merely be a typical time-traveling conundrum were it not for the intrusion of the Real in the form of an impasse within the Imaginary. At the end of the initial narration Harry is saved from a gruesome death by the apparition of a stag controlled by what he takes to be the ghost of his deceased father. In the second narration the time traveling Harry, in a moment of shock, realizes that it was not his father who had conjured up the saving image but that it is his present, time-traveling self that must take the responsibility to perform the difficult charm.

The time travel sequence reiterates a theme that is present throughout the whole series, namely, that Harry must come to terms with his desire that his father could save him, or the fantasy that he might never have lost him. When Harry steps into the place that he had reserved for his father by performing the conjuration himself, we have a moment analogous to what Lacan referred to as the “traversing of the fantasy.” At this moment the fantasy dies, yet inasmuch as Harry is able to act from the place at which his fantasies had controlled him, we witness a sublimation in the Lacanian sense, that is, a re-structuring of the relationship of the Imaginary order to that of the Real, such that the Imaginary does not function to block the Real, but to maintain it, as well as the subject’s minimal distance from it.

Print This Post

Why read Harry Potter?

I just finished writing up a proposal for this book on Lacan and Children’s Literature in which I argue that one of the powerful things about the Harry Potter books is the way in which the Imaginary order is always cut by the Real, by Death. Harry’s biggest fantasies concern the care that his parents, or Sirius, or Dumbledore might provide him, and as the books progress these supports get taken away from him, one by one. I also argue that the structure is that of a mobius strip, such that the opposition between the Imaginary and the Real is intrinsic to the structure of the fantasies of the characters. Rowling herself said the books are about death, which, in my opinion, the (pure) genre of fantasy has always completely obviated. Rowling, though, sets out like she’s going to give the traditional weight to the imaginary elements (the overblown powers, the ridiculous dualisms) but then always manages to be very surprising in the way these fantasies run into their very own Real limits. The books are theologically right on, as well, for the very simple fact that Harry loves because he is not afraid to die.

Print This Post

Hall 4 - Natural Law and Reason & Faith

The fourth and fifth sections of the Outlines, chapter 1, continues Hall’s attempt to delineate the natural and supernatural. In my reading, Hall suffers primarily here by delineating science and theology enough that, in so doing, creates an emancipated, secular science that is able to carry on entirely in the absence of theology, regardless of how much he wants it to want the input of faith and the church.

Hall begins by elucidating the “natural order” or the phenomenal world, in which certain observable “laws” or regulating forces maintain a uniformity of experience. However, this uniformity must not mislead one to believe that this is an eternal or everlasting cosmos, as neither science can prove nor revelation attests to such. Rather, revelation states that “this order will, in due time, give place to a new one.” Moreover, the phenomenal world has seen the breaking in of miracles and the supernatural, as testified to by the ancients’ preoccupation with the uniformity of the supernatural long before interest in natural laws grew. “Theological science is more ancient than physical science—in fact, the mother of it.” As such, Hall posits the following division of disciplines:

So long as natural science confines itself to the investigation of nature as such, and theological science to the theistic and spiritual interpretation of facts undeniably established, there can be no conflict. But when natural scientists undertake to advance theological interpretations of their results, a collision is apt to occur between their crude speculations and more mature Theology. And when theologians continue to rely upon exploded views of nature, basing theological speculations upon them, a conflict occurs between out-of-date and up-to-date natural science. As Dr. Pusey says, unscience, not science, is adverse to Faith.

Reason and faith, then, are both important in the theological project. Reason according to Hall is “an intellectual process making for the acquisition of truth… invariably conditioned in its exercise by the will and affections.” Faith, while having several different modes, is here “a department of reason, although dependant upon supernatural grace… the spiritual faculty by which we discern spiritual things.” Thus, being an exercise of reason, “the laws of human reason hold good.” Grace becomes important to Hall here, in that grace is vital to one’s very ability to grasp supernatural knowledge. Consequently, he grants a special place to the sacraments inasmuch as they expose one to grace. Access to grace through faith is most evident in the common statements of faith embraced by the “Greek, Latin, and Anglican (churches)… with but slight verbal variations and with the same meaning… significant, in view of the diversity of races and usages which exists, and the age-long mutual hostility which has prevailed. Such consent is not to be found elsewhere.” Rationalism, then, is not some pure form of access to reason, but is a crippled endeavor simply by virtue of its prima facie rejection of ecclesial authority.

While it seems that Hall’s definition of natural and supernatural probably got a lot of mileage, particularly among more technologically or scientifically minded Christians (Janet comments on this is a previous posting’s comment section), and maybe I’m even detecting a hint of CS Lewis’ Miracles, his language is ultimately uncompelling and rather flat to me. I’m especially uneasy about his division of territory between science and theology. This is possibly due to Hall attempting to hedge the claims of science, and my nostalgia for cosmologies like Maximus’, in which a theological understanding of the world not only precedes but informs a natural one, in which there is no comprehensive understanding of the natural world that does not flow from an initial engagement with that world’s creator. Furthermore, while he tries to ward off the notion of an universal scientific reason, his separation of powers between science and theology seem to grant that there is a space apart from theology in which a kind of positivist and exhaustive scientific knowledge is possible. Of course, it now is commonplace to reject such notions almost entirely on their naivete toward the place of interpretation in all things, scientific or theological. Similarly, one could ask exactly what Hall means by a natural order, and whether investigation of such includes ontology. He certainly isn’t clear as to how broad or narrow he expects the study of the natural order to be, but philosophers might make a convincing case for their autonomy under Hall’s system. Conversely, if anthropology and ontology are theological topics, or at least not wholly secular disciplines, then Hall’s secular science will be surely lacking in its exercise. My thomist friends can probably spell out for me how Thomas answers many of these questions, and I probably should point you all to this book as it helped me flesh a little bit of this out for myself as I was typing this post.

Print This Post

2007 Michael Ramsey Prize for theological writing

Rowan Williams has awarded the 2007 Michael Ramsey prize to the master of the worldwide order of Dominican Friars, Timothy Radcliffe for his book What is the Point of Being a Christian?

While I would like to see the award used to highlight excellent Anglican scholarship, since academic theology gets relatively little attention (whether by Anglicans or otherwise), hopefully the award will raise more awarness about Michael Ramsey’s work.

I suggest to you that as the Cross and the resurrection were the spearhead of the gospel’s relevance and potency in the first century, so they can be also for our contemporary world. Ours is a world full of suffering and frustration: of what significance to it is Jesus who lived and died nearly two thousand years ago? The answer is chiefly this: that in the death and resurrection he shows not only the way for human beings, but the true image of God himself. Is there, within or beyond our suffering and frustrated universe, any purpose, way, meaning, sovereignty? We answer, yes, and the death and resurrection of Jesus portray this purpose, way, meaning, and sovereignty as living through dying, as losing self to find self, as the power of sacrificial love.

Thanks to Ben for the link.

Print This Post

Sir Ken Robinson: Do schools kill creativity?

I’ve been subscribing to TED posts in Google Reader for quite a while now, but I always seem to miss the best stuff. Thanks to AKMA for drawing our attention to this today. The video below is of Sir Ken Robinson’s talk at the 2006 TED conference. I’ve typed out a couple of the really salient parts of his discussion.

Salient = things i’m interested in. so what.

My contention is that all kids have tremendous talents, and we squander them, pretty ruthlessly… My contention is that creativity, now, is as important in education as literacy, and we shoudl treat it with the same status.
…Intelligence is interactive. The brain isn’t divided into compartments. Creativity…more often than not comes about through the interaction of different disciplinary ways of seeing things.

For those of you that are savy with ipods and podcasting, there’s a link on the TED site (linked in this post’s title) to download the video of this to itunes. enjoy

Print This Post

In Praise of Shame

Joan Copjec’s article “May ‘68, the Emotional Month” which appears in Lacan: The Silent Partners (Ed. Slavoj Zizek) fleshes out Lacan’s distinction between shame and guilt in which shame is the experience, very close to anxiety, of being overly proximate to objet a, the object cause of desire. Guilt, on the other hand, is called a sham jouissance by Lacan and betrays a flight from anxiety, and thus a flight from Being. There is a play on the French word for shame (honte) and the science of being (ontology) giving us the neologism, hontology. Guilt arises because one has fixed one’s response to the encounter with the object that induces anxiety, in a desperate effort to control the situation. Copjec writes: The fraudulent nature of this jouissance has everything to do with the fact that it gives one a false sense that the core of one’s being is someething knowable, possessable as an identity, a property, a surplus-value attaching to one’s person.” (109) How then shall we steer clear of this transformation from shame into guilt, especially seeing that capitalism is founded on such a universal move of taking loans out on our shame, securing a future at the cost of Being. One helpful image that Copjec gives us is of the veil that covers this place of shame. Shall we avert our eyes from it? Shall we rip it off? Shall we tremble in fear of the priests who stand before it? Is it not clear that these are all responses which engender guilt (which, don’t forget, has its own peculiar pleasure)? Copjec urges us to notice the veil itself, to enter into its arabesques, to thank God for the distance that it affords us, the breathing room. I’ve been looking at the wonderful images on Davis’ blog, all of which are veils upon the almighty. For our words to be good words, we must speak from these terrible places, from these veils that inspire terror and unknowing. There is no way to abolish anxiety (as Auden said, it is the condition of human existence, and in this way our age is most honest) but there is a way to transform our relationship to it.

Print This Post

Yves Congar discusses Tradition

There’s been two recent posts this week that quote at length from Yves Congar’s The Meaning of Tradition. Some of Congar’s ideas in the Intro relate to the recent discussion here re: Milinerd’s and Reno’s comments on Theological Education and Art Discourse, so I thought I would quote a small bit.

Paul Claudel compared tradition with a man walking. In order to move forward he must push off from the ground, with one foot raised and the other on the ground; if he kept both feet on the ground or lifted both in the air, he would be unable to advance. If tradition is a continuity that goes beyond conservatism, it is also a movement and a progress that goes beyond mere continuity, but only on condition that, going beyond conservation for its own sake, it includes and preserves the positive values gained, to allow a progress that is not simply a repetition of the past. Tradition is memory, and memory enriches experience. If we remembered nothing it would be impossible to advance; the same would be true if we were bound to a slavish imitation of the past. True tradition is not servility but fidelity.

This is clear enough in the field of art. Tradition conceived as the handing down of set formulas and the enforced and servile imitation of models learned in the classroom would lead to sterility; even if there were an abundant output of works of art, they would be stillborn. Tradition always implies learning from others, but the academic type of docility and imitation is not the only one possible: there is also the will to learn from the experience of those who have studied and created before us; the aim of this lesson is to receive the vitality of their inspiration and to continue their creative work in its original spirit, which thus, in a new generation, is born again with the freedom, the youthfulness and the promise that it originally possessed.

At last year’s AAR, Hans Boersma gave a paper in response to Vanhoozer’s Drama of Doctrine in which he suggested that Vanhoozer could benefit from appropriating Congar into his overall picture of how doctrine is developed and implemented. I confess that I don’t remember much of his paper and can’t find it in article form online. But I think the salient point is that inherent even to a proposal as generous as Vanhoozer’s is the tension between the Protestant and Catholic relationship to scripture, the (sometimes) radical individualism of sola scriptura and the perceived crustiness and equally rigid rules of tradition. In Congar’s words:

[S]ince the Reformation there is controversy between Christians on “Scripture versus tradition”, a controversy on the rule of faith.

And the dualism goes on…

Print This Post