Tuesday, April 21, 2009
actual vs. potential
But there's another side to artists--the perspective of the visionary. The need to embellish, update, clarify, distort, and perfect. To render things not as they are, but as the artist sees them. Picasso the cubist.
The Master Artist sees beyond pores, eyebrows, sags, and wrinkles to my anxiety, fatigue, blind spots, error, mess, conflict, darkness. He also sees who I will be: beautiful, released, growing, trusting, new, different, bright. HOPE.
May I be the kind of artist who, seeing the flaws, emphasizes the beauty.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
speaking of bananas...
"Oh," I started to reply, "the truth is...truth is...uh..." (this was going to be harder than I thought. Maybe a tangible illustration would help!)
"See the banana you have in your hand?" I asked him. He looked at it.
"If you told me that was a banana, that would be the TRUTH, because it IS a banana. If you say it's NOT a banana, that is NOT the truth."
He took this in.
"Oh!" he exclaimed, his face beaming with understanding. "YES!...the TRUTH is a BANANA!!"
It tooks us two years to undo that one.
Friday, April 17, 2009
In honor of my friend who's fallen in love
--Delmore Schwartz
"Love is a choice you make from moment to moment."
--Barabara De Angelis
"To love someone deeply gives you strength. Being loved by someone deeply gives you courage."
--Lao Tzu
"True love isn't so much a dreamy feeling that you have as it is an enduring commitment to give sacrificially--even, or perhaps especially, when you don't feel like it."
--William R. Mattox, Jr.
"You never lose by loving. You always lose by holding back."
--Barabara De Angelis
"To love at all is to be vulnerable."
--C. S. Lewis
proof of God's love
All Glorious Within
“The King’s daughter is all glorious within…” Psalm 45:13a
I work
Toning skin and muscle
Firming shape
Buying products to cover and conceal
Dedicating time to beauty
But beauty fades with time
And then the real will be unhid
Who am I then—
A mask removed;
An empty shell?
Or will beauty radiate with time—
Surging from a toned heart,
A glistening soul emerging through wrinkles;
Shaped by grace-encounters with God—
The light of Beauty’s gleam.
will (written 02.01.1995)
Heart aching
I wrestle
Spirit against Flesh
Clash of raw desires
And yet
I yearn to rebel
And as I hear the echoes
Of my sobs,
I begin to believe
That reality means
No one understands
(like a dusty memory)
and see the open splintered flesh
and gouging thorns
they see my core
(core of weakness and passion)
and I tremble beneath his gaze
as I behold
the painful expression of His love
That reality means
He understands
The intensity of my anguish
For He knows the cost of obedience
Even more than i
potter (song lyrics)
My world feels like it’s
spinning
spinning
spinning
So many decisions
So many revisions
So many directions
Crowding my heart
Filling my mind
All this uncertainty
Wanna leave it all behind me
And just when I think I’ve got it made
The Potter starts to spin my wheel and reshape the clay
CHORUS:
Oh, the Potter’s still shapin’ me
And I may not always be all that I want to be
But I know that He is makin’ somethin’ He wants to see
And
who am I
who am I
who am I
To ask Him why
Are You shaping me this way?
‘Cause He is the Potter…
And I am the clay.
Trying to squeeze myself into a mold
Hoping I can learn
Before the wheel ever starts to turn
Oh why can’t I remember
That His fingers are tender
And it’s only in the turning that He smoothes the roughest parts of me
His face glows with joy in His masterpiece
Yeah, His face glows with joy when He looks at me
CHORUS
graciela (written 03.22.1995)
A sameness must have functioned as the glue
That kept you close to me, and me to you,
For since our lives are moving and amending,
To talk is now to work at comprehending.
Before, in all, we held a common view,
Now clashing, we defend what we think true,
With aim to mask sad hearts and wills unbending.
All efforts spiral more misunderstanding
And so we both retreat to newer places
With surface tones of friendship and politeness
And deeper truth of sorrow and contriteness
Our gardened hearts we close as empty spaces
Heartstrings tender, growing taught…and reprimanding.
skimming the top of the world (written 03.07.1995)
The river called to me
As you and I sat wordlessly on the hot sand
One toe at a time
We sank into the water
(skin popping out with cold)
splash-cooling the hot vinyl seat
we mounted
(suddenly awake)
we flew across the surface…
your hair whipped glossy black at my nose
I held on behind you
Fast at first—fueled by new freedom—wind pounding our face
When we realized we had all the time in the world
We let the motor rest and it began to purr
Then I saw you
And I held on tight
I felt it coming
You flashed me a boyish grin
And I held on
Knowing if I let go I’d be without you
(and in trouble)
gliding along the gray-green surface
so deep we couldn’t see the bottom
you began to risk it all and I did too
(it was either that or let go)
we fell off pretty hard once
gasping in cold water
fighting the strong current
but soon we were back up
laughing
cooled by the plunge
I clung to you
And we left river-weeds at the banks,
Speeding over submerged rocks
We made a game of hitting waves
Balanced Together we could fly!
I looked back once and saw a trail of playful foam behind us…
We have never seen the shore since
afternoon after rain (written 03.07.1995)
The clouds molt their moisture on the mountains
Softening the crisp edges
Mountains
Layering themselves
Settling heavily on the horizon
Collecting raindrop rivers in their folds
Cold clouds dust the mountain-tips with snowy fog
And laugh
At the blue sky
Peeking around the edges
writer's block (written 02.01.1995)
On thought
And irony,
Chewing on profundity like a ravenous cub
With never a premonition of the coming frost.
Feasting felt eternal
The air began to crust;
I shivered at the first snowflake
And retreated,
Full and fat,
In comfort for a season.
Sleeping,
I dream
Of green and growing times
And easy expansion
I close my eyes to erase the cave;
To bring back the summer…
The snow at the entrance
Builds
Barricading me in lethargy.
I mumble a groan of anesthetized terror
And rush to tell myself
It’s only a dream
fear (written 01.04.1995)
Is to retreat to the corners of your soul
And slide like a fetus
Into position in the dark
It is to forget
How it feels to be warm
(sensing only cold)
and wonder if you will ever survive.
Fear
is an iron clamp
that tightens around your neck;
an ulcerated hole
draining hope and contentment
through your stomach
Fear
is a gargoyle
that swallows you
whole.
You sit, being digested, in its belly
And long for life.
When fear freezes me
I center my eyes
On Your face
His cold claw ungrips me,
The ball and chain
left behind
in the
dark.
blades (one of my old poems)
My Love lies dormant
As in wait
For the warmth of the spring thaw.
Winter renders emotions motionless
Huddled hopefully in my hungry heart
The eyes of Patience are sealed open
Scrutinizing the cold white snow
For the inevitable protrusion of a warm green
Blade.
coming home
Water slapped against the sides of the skip. The lake bubbled with the flip of a young trout’s tail. A crisp breeze rustled the tops of the poplars, perfumed with juniper and cedar. At the other end of the pond, a flock of ducks suddenly quacked and honked, flapping their wings in consternation as two mallards fought over a ragged-looking female. In the dimming light of evening, crickets in the reeds at the water’s edge began their symphonic chorus as if to serenade the waning warmth of summer.
On the dock sat a man with graying temples, his gabardine suit wrinkled from a long flight, top collar button undone beneath a loosened silk tie. Wearily, he propped a burgundy briefcase against the weathered post and stood his cell phone beside the polished Italian leather. He sighed, ran his fingers through his thinning hair, lay his tortoise-shell glasses on the splintering boards of the dock, and leaned his chin in his hands.
Across the lake, the gnarled oak that had shaded all his summers leaned beckoningly over the water. Its heavy rope swayed gently in the evening breeze, brushing the tops of the cattails edging the banks. The deepening lake shadows flickered in the light of the rising moon as the last summer fireflies began to hover over the grassy banks.
Suddenly, he felt the freedom of summer nights long past. Leaving his inhibitions on the dock with his clothes and clinging to the scratchy knots of the rope, he swung out over the cattails and beyond the gradual slope of the bank, hurling himself into the deep dark of the lake. The moonlight glinted off the spray of his splash like beaded diamonds. The water seemed to peel him in its innocence, washing him in memories it had given him so many summers ago—his first swim; first fish; first kiss.
His phone was ringing on the dock, but all he heard was the song of the frogs and the hum of the cicadas in the trees.
patience with yourself
--François de Sales (1567-1622)
the man in the arena
--Theodore Roosevelt, "Man in the Arena" Speech given April 23, 1910
On these grounds: Thank you President Bush, and all those who have the courage to take on the role of President of the United States.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
from love alone
"Should I worship Him from fear of hell, may I be cast into it. Should I serve Him from desire of gaining heaven, may He keep me out. But should I worship Him from love alone, may He reveal Himself to me, that my whole heart may be filled with His love and presence."
--Sadhu Sundar Singh (1889-1929), Meditations on Various Aspects of the Spiritual Life
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
entertainment-based worship?
What are we saying about God when we:
- come to church in flip flops and jeans
- create worship venues so everyone can sing songs in the style they prefer
- build purely functional "worship centers" devoid of any beauty or embellishment
- eliminate light and windows from the sanctuary in favor of media screens
- rename sanctuaries "worship centers" and churches "campuses"
- fill worship services with dramas and announcements/ads for upcoming events, and any moments of silence with music
- greet worshippers with "enjoy the service today"
I worry that we are remaking worship into something for us rather than valuing it as a gift we bring to God. More and more it seems to reflect/imitate our culture, rather than stand in contrast to it. When I enter a church and it feels the same as the rest of my life (complete with Christian pop music I've heard on the radio all week, the same rushed pace, the same noise level, the same dress code, the same kind of building I've been in all week), I miss a sense of having been in God's presence. Are we trying to create something no different than every other part of our lives, or is it happening accidentally?
could this be any more complicated?!
After a visit to the pediatrician this morning to have six-month-old Denton examined (he's had diarrhea for about four weeks now), I was sent down to the lab for the paraphernalia I would need to collect a stool sample. Little did I know that I would need to collect four stool samples, three to be placed in the vials with liquid chemicals (which must stay at room temperature), and one to be placed in the empty vial (which must be refrigerated immediately after collection and for no more than a period of three days).
While I was wondering how I was going to collect the diarrhea (since it is so liquidy that it is immediately absorbed into the diaper), the lab lady handed me an interesting little bag with a urinal-shaped foam "sticker" affixed to the top, explaining that Denton must wear this accessory in his diaper to catch any urine, because urine will contaminate the diarrhea to be tested (as if it wasn't contaminated to begin with). My mind swimming with details, I ventured a question: "How should I collect the 'specimen?'" to which she replied, "Well, when you think he's going to go, just try to put some of it in the vial." I tried not to laugh. "I never know when he's going to go," I explained, "and when he does, it immediately soaks into the diaper."
We finally came up with the "plastic tarp" approach, where I will strip Denton naked and leave him on a plastic tarp to play, with the urinal bag adhered to his body to keep any potential urine separate from "the specimen." Then when "the specimen" makes its appearance, I will scoop it into each container, bathe my son, and move on with my life (which right now is full of packing for our move, showing the house at any given moment, and caring for my two year old). Since Denton is only yielding "specimens" once every day or two, I have to plan my tarp day carefully. Once the first "specimen" is collected and in the refrigerator, the clock starts ticking: I have three days to collect the other three, since after three days the refrigerated one becomes invalid.
Sunday's the day, folks. We'll start early in the morning and hopefully we'll have collected all the toxic waste we need for delivery to the lab on Monday...as well as acquired an entirely new set of talents to add to my mommy resume.
before
I slept all night and woke up rested.
I never worried about staying up too late.
I brushed my teeth every day and showered each morning.
I went to movies on the spur of the moment and had dinner in cloth-napkin restaurants.
I completed my train of thought and checked things off my list.
Before I was a mom,
My house stayed clean.
My shoes were always where I’d left them.
I never tripped over toys or found Cheerios in strange places.
I never wondered if my plants were poisonous.
I never closed the bathroom door or scanned the floor for choking hazards.
I never worried about shopping cart handles.
Before I was a mom,
I never held down a screaming child in the doctor’s office.
I never felt my heart break when I couldn't stop the hurt.
I never looked into teary eyes and cried back.
I never wished it could have been me instead.
Before I was a mom,
I felt mature.
I knew the proper response to any situation.
I didn’t know my child would surprise me.
I didn’t know I’d doubt myself.
I didn’t know things would be complicated.
I didn’t know the job would be so hard.
Before I was a mom,
I didn’t know I’d drive more carefully,
Take fewer risks and more precautions.
I never had nightmares of being parted from my child.
I never cried over Amber alerts
Or muted violent TV commercials.
I never trembled when I watched the news
Or worried about how the world would be after I was gone.
Before I was a mom,
I never sat up at night watching a baby sleep.
I never kept holding him just because I didn’t want it to end.
I didn’t know my baby’s sweet smell
Or the sound of his soft breathing.
I’d never felt his warm face on my cheek
Or his little arms around my neck.
Before I was a mom,
My heart was my own.
I didn’t know someone so small could make my life so full.
I didn't know feeding a hungry baby would feed a part of me, too.
I didn’t know I had so many empty places
Or so many capable of overflowing.
I didn’t know my heart was so vulnerable…
Or so strong.
I didn’t know what I was missing.
together
Cold and single
Throws itself from one dark cloud
Droplets
Falling
Blend and mingle
Soothing storm from raindrop crowd
On my own
I barely moisten
One fat worm or blade of grass;
In the company of dozens
We become a stormy blast
cork
Her dusty soul-cellar
Houses bottled memories
Like aging grapes
Trampled into wine
Corked and hidden deep in the dark.
The fruit of youth ripened long ago
And was crushed beneath the feet of life
Her thirst would quench
If she’d pop the cork and drink deep
But she’s swept the cellar clean
And whisked the cobwebs into dust.
Ascending to the brighter world upstairs,
She paints a smile
While all the while
The grapes
(And her heart)
Are aging.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Picasso mommy
Monday, April 13, 2009
"Mommy, why does God love us?"
My mind wandered back to the first moment I held my infant boy. So helpless. He didn't even know who I was--only that I was familiar; that something inside him was drawn to me; needed me; would die without me. He didn't know me; didn't love me. He just needed me. He hadn't done anything yet except be mine. And that was why I loved him. I loved him because I made him. I loved him because he was mine to love.
Romans 5:6-10
Maybe He loves us because that's what He's like.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
quiet contemplation of Him
--O. Hallesby, Prayer
last hour of my life
--Jonathan Edwards (1703-1758)
consistent lives
--J. Hudson Taylor, Days of Blessing in Inland China
take up your cross
--Luke 9:23-24
true prayer
--Jacques Ellul, Prayer and Modern Man
New Year's prayer
--Samuel Johnson (1709-1784)
15 things to pray for your children
- their salvation
- their mate
- that they would fall in love with God's Word
- that God would keep them from evil
- that they would have a conscience void of offense before God and man
- that their character would be more valuable to them than their credentials
- that they would stand up for what's right, even if it means standing alone
- that they would be kept from the love of money
- that they would be kept morally pure
- that they would have the heart of a servant
- that eternity would burn in their hearts
- that sin would always be distasteful to them and that they would be easily broken over sin
- that they would love each other
- that they would trust God with their parents and not allow rebellion to set in
- that they would never grow bitter against God, regardless of the hardship
to finish well
--Acts 29:24
The true test of a servant
--my dad
morning watch
--Mrs. Charles Cowman, Streams in the Desert
Self-respect & discipline
--Abraham J. Heschel
Every time you make a choice...
--C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity
Breaking bad habits
--Thomas a Kempis, Of the Imitation of Christ
Friday, April 10, 2009
Drama, drama, drama!
Mapping spiritual experience in the brain
TILL WE HAVE MINDS
"2 Constraining their definition of truth to "factual human knowledge," the panel, led by professor of molecular biology Lee Silver, posed the provocative question, whether "science has effectively demonstrated that religious beliefs have no place in the rational mind. Language, for example, has been mapped in this way, as fMRI studies have shown involvement of the occipital cortex in reading text, the left posterior temporal lobe (Wernicke's area) in comprehending language, the right temporal lobe in assessing context, and the left inferior frontal lobe (Broca's area) in producing speech.4 In recent years fMRI has turned to investigating the moral domain.
Full Text (2865 words) |
[Headnote] |
GREY MATTERS |
Nothing is yet in its true form.
C. S. Lewis, Till We Have Faces1
A panel of Princeton University scientists recently gathered together to deliberate "whether strong religious belief can coexist with reliance on science."2 Constraining their definition of truth to "factual human knowledge," the panel, led by professor of molecular biology Lee Silver, posed the provocative question, whether "science has effectively demonstrated that religious beliefs have no place in the rational mind."2 How one decides that question guides the answer to a related question essential for the Christian physician. How can faith in Jesus Christ coexist with medical science?
Central to newfound confidence in the claim that science has superseded faith is the expanding scientific account not only of nature but also of human nature. At the leading edge of this research, neuro science is unveiling spectacular discoveries about the brain. Neuron by neuron, the brain is yielding its intimate details to sophisticated neurochemical, neurogenetic and neuroimaging methodologies. The molecular basis of perception, reasoning, decision, faith and belief- every category of thought - has become accessible to the scrutiny of neuro science. Neuroscience thus offers an increasingly detailed account - in purely physical terms - of mental processes that previously were understood to be within the purview of philosophy, religion and the arts.
Functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI), which detects regional increases in blood flow that accompany neural activity, has become a powerful tool to investigate the neuronal architecture of the brain systems underlying specific cognitive functions. Whereas in the past, localizing brain functions relied on the study of patients with brain lesions that happened to destroy those functions,3 fMRI permits precise, noninvasive, spatial and temporal resolution of psychological processes in the intact, living brain. Brain regions showing increased metabolic activity over baseline will "light up" on fMRI scans. Language, for example, has been mapped in this way, as fMRI studies have shown involvement of the occipital cortex in reading text, the left posterior temporal lobe (Wernicke's area) in comprehending language, the right temporal lobe in assessing context, and the left inferior frontal lobe (Broca's area) in producing speech.4
In recent years fMRI has turned to investigating the moral domain. Studies of subjects presented with moral dilemmas have shown that there is no one moral center in the brain.5'6 Rather, moral thought corresponds to a complex network of complementary cognitive processes traceable to a variety of discrete brain regions. Moral discernment engages systems of sensory decoding and abstract reasoning. Intuitive judgments heed long-term memories' emotional tags. Conscious decision integrates the sometimes competing neural streams of reasoning and intuition in the dorsolateral prefrontal and anterior cingulate cortices, where there exists what C. S. Lewis recognized metaphorically as a liaison between "cerebral man and visceral man."7'8 Finally, implementation, planning, and self-control of moral action require healthy frontal lobes.
Religious thought, too, has reclined under the scanner for analysis. Some of the brain correlates of belief and disbelief have recently been identified.9 Just as for language and moral judgment, investigations have not found any one "God spot" in the brain, as if religious ideas were compartmentalized and detached from other thoughts and concerns.
In an experiment that produced a brain phenomenon apparently indistinguishable from spiritual experience, neuro scientist Michael Persinger applied transcranial magnetic stimulation to the cerebral cortex of healthy volunteers. Even when the subjects were not told that the device was turned on, they reported a mystical sense of another's presence.10 Philosopher Patricia Churchland cites that study as evidence that all religious experiences are ultimately neurobiological in cause.11 However, one synthetic experience in the laboratory does not invalidate the spiritual awareness that many Christians testify has provided them comfort or insight during life's trials. Artificially inducing what Lewis called a numinous sensation12 by stimulating the parietal cortex no more disproves the existence of the transcendent than would stimulating the occipital cortex and causing the illusion of light disprove the existence of the sun and stars. The intensity of subjective experience in isolation from reason is not necessarily a reliable guide to truth.
If future technologies were to penetrate the brain with even higher resolution and, applying every conceivable biophysical stimulus, still fail to extract an objective sign of mental transcendence, the case for Christianity would not be weakened. Scientific facts, while valid and useful, are not the only ways of knowing about the world. The competence of science is limited to the measurement of phenomena that are quantifiable and consistently reproducible.13 These include the structure of inanimate matter and predictable patterns of fields of energy. Even here nature conceals subtle details that are permanently incalculable and forever untraceable. Most importantly, the universally human questions of origin, purpose, and ultimate meaning surpass what can be fully answered at the material level. Such questions engage the mind and its capacities for abstract thought, conscience and personal agency, all of which resist a complete explanation in scientific terms. At the patient's bedside, physicians understand that beyond scientific diagrams, gene maps and charts, there is a further aspect to human nature. The truly spiritual aspect of the human mind may be a gentle whisper, which science, despite its remarkable proficiency, overlooks (1 Kings 19:12, NIV; John 3:8; Heb 11:3).
Prevailing interpretations of neuroscience research presuppose that all brain phenomena are causally determined chains of biophysical events. If truth be established by the volume of data, then a naturalistic appraisal of the human mind would seem to be gaining in acceptance. Frequent comparisons of the brain to the computer reinforce the broader cultural plausibility of a materialistic understanding of human nature. Within that framework, there can be no assurance that the concept of free will, with its weighty implications for personal moral responsibility and autonomy in medical decision-making, has any meaning. Neuropsychologists now debate whether free will might be nothing more than an illusion, since the outcome of a decision can be predicted by changes detectable in the prefrontal and parietal cortices seconds before entering conscious awareness.14 Alongside increasing optimism in science is a growing skepticism among many contemporary philosophers who ask whether all of consciousness ultimately reduces to an accidental matrix of synaptic impulses.15-18 According to that view, one's decision to choose the good over selfish interests would be automatically determined solely by antecedent physical forces. Whatever one's reply to Jesus' question, "Who do you say I am?" (Matt 16:15), the materialist recognizes only a reflex, as if belief were equivalent to a yawn.
So impressive is the expanding horizon of neuroscience that Francis Crick, codiscoverer of DNA's double helix, has posited what he called his "astonishing hypothesis," which is, "... that 'You,' your joys and your sorrows, your memories and your ambitions, your sense of personal identity and free will, are in fact no more than the behaviour of a vast assembly of nerve cells and their associated molecules."19
Despite the rhetorical certainty the words, "in fact" seem to imply, Crick's claim is no more than a hypothesis. It is not, of course, a scientific hypothesis, but rather a metaphysical one which exceeds what science can legitimately claim. Crick's sweeping negative assertion that we are no more than cells and molecules defies verification, since the scientific method is qualified to describe only what can be empirically observed and quantified. By defining human consciousness exclusively in terms of matter in motion, Crick assumes as a premise the very conclusion that he wishes to reach.
The contributions of neuro science are necessary, but not sufficient, to explain human thought. A functional neuroanatomical account of moral reasoning broadens the explanation of how one reasons, but it cannot show how one ought to reason. Nor can a scientific description limited to factual knowledge about the brain inspire the care of the sick or resolve difficult dilemmas in medical ethics. Less astonishingly, acceptance of Crick's hypothesis would reduce the value one accords to others. A materialistic appraisal of human nature would thus impoverish medicine. The obligations to love one's neighbor (Lev 19:18; Mark 12:31) and serve one another (Gal 5:13) would make little sense if the ethos of health care were based on the lonely view that patients are essentially churning aggregations of molecules.
Nor does the naturalistic methodology of neuro science adequately account for the scientist behind the experiment whose mind engages nature by drawing inferences and reasoning with inquisitiveness and intentionality. There is, after all, a Crick behind the hypothesis. C. S. Lewis considered naturalism to be self-refuting because it is inconsistent with the validity of reasoning, on which all possible knowledge depends.20 If mental processes were dictated solely by a deterministic biophysical chain of causation in the brain, then the scientist would have no reason to believe that scientific insights into nature are true and trustworthy rather than just a reflection of the way the brain happens to work.21 Attempts to explain reason naturalistically end up explaining it away.
Not only must the reasoning mind in some way stand apart from nature to comprehend nature, but the mind that considers science encounters, knowingly or not, signs of a creative Mind behind nature (Psalm 19:1; Rom 1:20). The mere possibility of engaging in scientific investigation depends on the attributes of that Mind. On this point the record of history is instructive, for science as a fruitful and self-sustaining enterprise was stillborn in previous cultures that believed nature to be undirected or the Mind behind nature to be capricious.22 Modern science emerged in history at a time when Western European culture was steeped in the understanding that the universe is the orderly creation of a rational God. For only a rational God could have authored a coherent universe that scientists can confidently investigate and hope to comprehend.22 The salient question, then, is not whether religious beliefs have a place in the rational mind but, more properly, what kinds of religious beliefs are rationally compatible with all that is known about nature and the human condition.
If the scientific account has truly displaced rational belief in God, then the Christian faith is empty and futile, the dead perish without hope of afterlife, sins are unfor given, and those who place their hope in Christ are the most pitiable of people (1 Cor 15:17-19). There is, however, much more than the narrow analysis of naturalism to consider. A worldview purged of theological content casts aside the accumulated wisdom of thousands of years of Western history informed by monotheism, disregards the contemporary discourse concerning the unavoidably transcendent implications of the origin of the universe and its particular conditions finely tuned to support life,23 and ignores the healing contributions of innumerable healthcare professionals through the ages inspired to serve the sick by their faith in a loving God.24
There is a larger view of human nature than is dreamt of in the philosophy of naturalism. Judeo-Christian teaching bases human dignity on the understanding that humankind is created in the image and likeness of God (Gen 1:26). This imago Dei, which all men and women bear, is not a scientific notion and thus cannot be defined by physical, genetic or cognitive criteria alone. From a biblical perspective, every human being has value beyond measure (Matt 18:14, 25:40; 2 Pet 3:9). The Hebrew Scriptures declare (e.g., 2 Chron 7:14; Psalm 105:4; Jer 29:13) and the New Testament affirms (e.g., Matt 11:28-30; John 3:16; Rev 3:20), that human beings have the special capacity to enter into a personal relationship with God. This larger view accommodates all that science reveals about human nature. That the human brain is a vast assembly of 100 billion neurons exchanging signals through 160 trillion synapses25 comes as no surprise to the biblical perspective on humanity as "fearfully and wonderfully made" (Psalm 139:14). To the scientific account the larger view adds hope exceeding anything technology can deliver (John 11:25; 1 Cor 15:22, 51-57; Col 1:27).26
This larger view promises that science can never disprove the existence of God. There is no area of brain function off limits to neuro science, provided the experiments are conducted ethically. Scientific discoveries have hardly put to rest the dialectic between science and faith. On the contrary, they reinvigorate it. Thinking about the brain with all the mind deepens the scientific appraisal. In so doing, it is important to be attentive to unstated philosophical presuppositions regarding the nature of humanity and reality. Rather than question whether science has replaced religion, a better question to ask is, what should be the right relationship of one to the other?
The story of neuro science is punctuated with reminders that the reality of God is not dependent on human thought, as if His sovereign provision and guidance were the result of human striving or faith the product of sufficient effort to imagine Him clearly. There is assurance in His grace and rest in His presence (Psalms 23, 46:10).
The subject of neuro science - the human brain - is at once wondrous and wanting. In all of creation nothing more intricate is known. Yet its thoughts are imperfect and its behavior gravely flawed. The mind is not yet in its true form. The renewing of the mind requires communion with the mind of God (Isa 1:18; Rom 12:2), whose thoughts the Scriptures indicate are vast and profound (Psalms 92:5, 139:17, NIV) and utterly unlike our own (Isaiah 55:8-9). It is unnecessary to ask what kind of science can apprehend the mind of God, as if that were possible. For God, in His mercy, through His Son has bridged the unfathomable divide and invites all people to draw near to Him (Rom 10:610). The mind of faith looks to what science has not yet seen (Heb 11:1). Herein lies the hope of seeing God face to face (1 Cor 13:12).
[Sidebar] |
The views expressed herein are his own and do not necessarily reflect the positions of Mayo Clinic, USA. |
This article first appeared in Volume 39, No. 4 (Winter 2008) of Today's Christian Doctor, the journal of the Christian Medical & Dental Associations; P.O. Box 7500; Bristol, TN 37621-7500. Phone: (423) 844-1000; Website: www.cmda.org. Used by permission. |
[Reference] » View reference page with links |
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That's what eggs'll do to ya
If You Give a Mom a Muffin
If you give a mom a muffin,
She'll want a cup of coffee to go with it.
She'll pour herself some.
Her three-year-old will spill the coffee.
She'll wipe it up.
Wiping the floor, she'll find dirty socks.
She'll remember she has to do laundry.
When she puts the laundry in the washer,
She'll trip over boots and bump into the freezer.
Bumping into the freezer will remind her she has to plan for supper.
She will get out a pound of hamburger.
She'll look for her cookbook ("101 Things To Do With a Pound of Hamburger").
The cookbook is sitting under a pile of mail.
She will see the phone bill, which is due tomorrow.
She will look for her checkbook.
The check book is in her purse that is being dumped out by her two-year-old.
She'll smell something funny.
She'll change the two year old's diaper.
While she is changing the diaper, the phone will ring.
Her five-year-old will answer and hang up.
She'll remember she wants to phone a friend for coffee.
Thinking of coffee will remind her that she was going to have a cup.
And chances are...
If she has a cup of coffee,
Her kids will have eaten the muffin that went with it.
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
The Bitter Homeschooler's Wish List
http://www.secular-homeschooling.com/001/bitter_homeschooler.html
home schooling vision
Tonight I ate dinner with a small group of other moms from my church. Somehow we stumbled onto the subject of school, and three of the women at the table were teachers. As the conversation unfolded, I was surprised to realize that the difference between me and these teachers was not so much where we teach (they at public school, I at home), but our foundational approach to learning. The teachers were concerned that students learn "important" things like sitting still in a seat, raising your hand before you speak, how to ask the right questions, and how to take direction from non-parental authority figures. They laughed about the subjects you have to learn even though "you'll never use them in real life" (subjects like history, higher math, etc.!) and about the funny questions their kids ask, like, "Why does the earth rotate?" (the answer they gave their kids was, "I don't know!" before moving on to another topic). One brave gal carefully admitted that she is still not sure whether she wants to send her child to school or home school him. The looks of restrained alarm on the faces of the teachers was fascinating.
As the conversation evolved (complete with anecdotes about the friend of a friend who home schools her ten children who faced the world like deer in the headlights once they left their parents' home), I began to see that how I view home schooling, and the reasons we're choosing it, is a fundamental values difference that goes beyond what kids learn to the core vision of our job as parents to train and develop our children's character, intellect, and capacities for a rich life that brings God glory as they thrive and fulfill their greatest potential.
Home schooling is not simply doing school at home. It is surrounding your child with an atmosphere of curiosity, creativity, industry, and good habits that stimulates a voracious appetite for free thought, intellectual exploration, unhindered discovery, vibrant spiritual depth, and rich personal maturation. It allows us to concentrate on things the child will need in real life: a quick mind, a healthy body, a desire for obedience, and deep and broad knowledge that will equip him for a life of leadership, service, and sacrifice. Who cares if he knows how to sit still in a seat, regurgitate facts on a test, raise his hand before speaking, and ask the "right" questions? If he understands how to submit his will to God-given authority, he'll never have a problem taking direction from someone other than Mom or Dad. And he'll find that subjects like history and higher-level math will shed profound light on issues he encounters DAILY in real life, unlike the silly skills often emphasized in public schools.
Home schooling is a freedom-saturated approach--from where you learn, to what you learn, to how you learn, to how you measure learning, to how you determine what is valuable. Home schooling recognizes that parents, not the government, are ultimately responsible for their children's lives, and before God have complete freedom, choice, and authority to raise their children. It is this freedom-filled perspective that unnerves Type As, politicians, and liberal elitists, and anyone else who wants more control over our children than they've been given.
Home schooling can be a lifestyle choice; a vision cast; a declaration of independence. It can separate friends or unite them. It can be an unhealthy shield or an ever-flourishing garden. It is to step out of one world and into another.
Damned
--C. H. Spurgeon (1834-1892)
Freedom
--Joy Davidman, Smoke on the Mountain
don't leave us at peace
--Blaise Pascal, Pensees
Law from the heart
--Martin Luther, "Preface to the Letter of St. Paul to the Romans"
Temptation
--Charles H. Brent (1862-1929)
Idolatry
--Robert L. Short, The Parables of Peanuts
Contentment
--Maltbie D. Babcock (1858-1901)
Art & creativity
--source unknown
Getting up early
--William Law, A Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life
Nostalgia
When leaves are flushed anew with green
And every moment vibrates--alive
Imagination swells with the breeze
And from a wistful mist emerges,
as from the memory of a dream,
Treehouses
Dragons
Secret caves
Magic
and
Pirates
For a moment
A flutter
remember
the freedom of long summer days
Bare feet
and
the stillness of time.
Hell
--C. S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain
Success
Irony from the mouth of an award-winning teacher
– John Taylor Gatto1992 New York State Teacher of the Year
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
Taken
It's about a father who's retired and relocated to be close to his 17-year-old daughter, Kim, who now lives with her mom and step-dad. Despite Dad's misgivings and warnings, Kim goes to France with a friend and ends up getting "taken" by men who sell her into a prostitution ring. Her dad happens to be talking to her on the phone when she's suddenly captured, and the rest of the movie details his quest to hunt down her abductors and rescue his daughter. Even with a PG13 rating, it's not easy material to swallow. But it also drew me back a second time because it reminded me of something. Something familiar. Something personal...something...
...Another story about a Father of a foolish child who's captured by an enemy and drawn into impossible doom. Except this child has a sick attachment to the pain and crime even though it's destroying her. Like Kim, she seems more interested in what the father can do for her than in the father himself; she gets angry and pouty when the father won't let her do what she wants, and explodes with joy, kisses, and "I love you!"s when he gives his permission. The father in the movie can take care of himself and leaves innumerable dead criminals in his wake; the Father in the other story can take care of Himself, too, but makes Himself the ransom...and pays it--with great pain and personal expense--because it is the only way to get his child back...and take away her desire for what's killing her.
The movie is about Kim and her dad. The other story is about me and mine. Not my dad, but God, my Father who gave Himself to pay MY ransom and rescue me from the slavery of sin I would never escape unless He paid for me.