Monday, October 27, 2008
Life as Battle, Journey, Riddle
I happened upon this line from GK Chesterton in A. Jacobs's Narnian: "The 'Iliad' is only great because all life is a battle, the Odyssey' because all life is a journey, the Book of Job because all life is a riddle" (Defendant). The point seems to be that the great story is great because it reflects the real story of human life. Even in the stories of great heroes non-heroic human life is captured. Jacobs quotes another of Chesterton that is more general on the human story as story: "The life of man is a story; an adventure story; and in our vision the same is true even of the story of God" (Orthodoxy qtd. in Narnian 124). That is, the biblical drama of salvation also reflects our stories. Thus the Bible is not a story imposed; rather, it is a story that resonates with human experience.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Lewis on the Creation Story
This is from his book Miracles:
"No philosophical theory which I have yet come across is a radical improvement on the words of Genesis, that 'In the beginning God made Heaven and Earth'. I say 'radical' improvement, because the story in Genesis—as St Jerome said long ago—is told in the manner 'of a popular poet', or as we should say, in the form of folk tale. But if you compare it with the creation legends of other peoples—with all these delightful absurdities in which giants to be cut up and floods to be dried up are made to exist before creation—the depth and originality of this Hebrew folk tale will soon be apparent." ("Nature and Supernature")
I do not like to take on arguments about which story is better. Rather, I know that since I am a Christian I will believe that my story is better than all other creation stories (cosmogonies). The Babylonian Enuma Elish (which Lewis alludes to) is not my story and therefore does not appeal to me.
On the other hand, it is interesting that of all the ancient cosmogonies, only the Hebrew one continues to capture the imagination of people who live 2500-3000 years after it was composed. The allure of this story may be a by-product of its place in the larger Christian drama of salvation, but one should also be aware of the extent to which the Hebrew cosmogony is responsible for and resonates with the modern Western exalted view of nature and the human person.
"No philosophical theory which I have yet come across is a radical improvement on the words of Genesis, that 'In the beginning God made Heaven and Earth'. I say 'radical' improvement, because the story in Genesis—as St Jerome said long ago—is told in the manner 'of a popular poet', or as we should say, in the form of folk tale. But if you compare it with the creation legends of other peoples—with all these delightful absurdities in which giants to be cut up and floods to be dried up are made to exist before creation—the depth and originality of this Hebrew folk tale will soon be apparent." ("Nature and Supernature")
I do not like to take on arguments about which story is better. Rather, I know that since I am a Christian I will believe that my story is better than all other creation stories (cosmogonies). The Babylonian Enuma Elish (which Lewis alludes to) is not my story and therefore does not appeal to me.
On the other hand, it is interesting that of all the ancient cosmogonies, only the Hebrew one continues to capture the imagination of people who live 2500-3000 years after it was composed. The allure of this story may be a by-product of its place in the larger Christian drama of salvation, but one should also be aware of the extent to which the Hebrew cosmogony is responsible for and resonates with the modern Western exalted view of nature and the human person.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
The Christian Moral Imagination
I have used the phrase moral imagination in the college classroom for years. No, I am never certain students know what I mean. What I refer to is the way our story, especially in the Gospels and Paul's interpretation of Christ's paschal mystery, shapes the Christian to respond to moral conflict.
A moral dilemma might best be described as the conflict between two values. For example, the abortion dilemma concerns the clash between freedom of the host (pregnant woman) and the unborn's right to life.* The natural rights of life and freedom are at the top of most moral hierarchies.
To respond creatively to the dilemma -- that is, not simply a response determined by a rule book of moral do's-and-don'ts -- a person has to be shaped to see the possible. The apparent and the possible are not the same thing. The possible in the Christian story is modeled on (among other things) Jesus' self-emptying on behalf of others, the reversal of expectations in his Beatitudes, on the master washing his disciples' feet, the outcast choosing better than the elite, even the Hebrew midwives defying the embodied Egyptian god. Jesus's teaching -- love your enemies, do good to those who hate you -- his non-violent action, and the image of the slain lamb that conquers in the Apocalypse inspires one to not retaliate, to seek creative non-violent responses. This is the possible.
Both our vision -- that which we can see in-with-and-under the visual phenomena -- and our choices are shaped by our story. Yes, Christians use the Bible as a moral rule book, but I do not think this is the higher way. Perhaps the higher way is signaled in Jesus' parables, in which he defies the audience's expectations in favor of a creative response that more faithfully reflects the highest values. Jesus dis-orients us so that we can truly see the possible beyond the habitual.
Consider the example of Blessed Teresa of Calcutta: the possible was not simply whom to marry, family prosperity, etc. Rather, for her the possible was to empty herself on behalf of this world's wretched. She chose the option that our story opens to us. This creative choice is not simply doing her duty.
This is the Christian moral imagination: in the midst of moral conflict, the seeing and choosing of options only opened to us by our story. The Christian imagination is more than moral vision, but it is never less than a way of seeing, a worldview, that has been shaped by our story. Perhaps in another blog I will write more generally on the Christian imagination, which I call sacramental.
*It is not a clash, however, between the human rights of freedom and life because the pro- and anti- positions do not agree on what constitutes a human person. In other words, are the unborn "endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty"? If US citizens agreed on what constitutes a human life, there would likely be no moral dilemma because only the most extreme minority supports the killing of human beings. If the unborn are human beings, they have human rights. Abortion is not an option.
A moral dilemma might best be described as the conflict between two values. For example, the abortion dilemma concerns the clash between freedom of the host (pregnant woman) and the unborn's right to life.* The natural rights of life and freedom are at the top of most moral hierarchies.
To respond creatively to the dilemma -- that is, not simply a response determined by a rule book of moral do's-and-don'ts -- a person has to be shaped to see the possible. The apparent and the possible are not the same thing. The possible in the Christian story is modeled on (among other things) Jesus' self-emptying on behalf of others, the reversal of expectations in his Beatitudes, on the master washing his disciples' feet, the outcast choosing better than the elite, even the Hebrew midwives defying the embodied Egyptian god. Jesus's teaching -- love your enemies, do good to those who hate you -- his non-violent action, and the image of the slain lamb that conquers in the Apocalypse inspires one to not retaliate, to seek creative non-violent responses. This is the possible.
Both our vision -- that which we can see in-with-and-under the visual phenomena -- and our choices are shaped by our story. Yes, Christians use the Bible as a moral rule book, but I do not think this is the higher way. Perhaps the higher way is signaled in Jesus' parables, in which he defies the audience's expectations in favor of a creative response that more faithfully reflects the highest values. Jesus dis-orients us so that we can truly see the possible beyond the habitual.
Consider the example of Blessed Teresa of Calcutta: the possible was not simply whom to marry, family prosperity, etc. Rather, for her the possible was to empty herself on behalf of this world's wretched. She chose the option that our story opens to us. This creative choice is not simply doing her duty.
This is the Christian moral imagination: in the midst of moral conflict, the seeing and choosing of options only opened to us by our story. The Christian imagination is more than moral vision, but it is never less than a way of seeing, a worldview, that has been shaped by our story. Perhaps in another blog I will write more generally on the Christian imagination, which I call sacramental.
*It is not a clash, however, between the human rights of freedom and life because the pro- and anti- positions do not agree on what constitutes a human person. In other words, are the unborn "endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty"? If US citizens agreed on what constitutes a human life, there would likely be no moral dilemma because only the most extreme minority supports the killing of human beings. If the unborn are human beings, they have human rights. Abortion is not an option.
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