Atheists and Theists of the World - Unite!

Well, I certainly got a response to my letter to the editor, published in The Age newspaper yesterday. Of course, I don't know how many people wrote to The Age, or whether the consensus view was for or against the case for mutual engagement that I outlined, but this letter published in today's edition is obviously the most vitriolically opposed (scroll down to the letter entitled "Problem With God").

A number of issues arise. Firstly, the author of this letter obviously only had access to the much truncated version of my letter that was eventually published; this may have affected the tone of this individual's response. Secondly, I don't know how extensive this responding letter was edited; that is, whether the published portion represents the thrust of the letter or just its most inflammatory aspects. Thirdly, and following on from the second point, I don't know how representative this letter was of the responses received, or whether The Age simply elected to publish the most trenchant response in order to generate a confrontational dichotomy.

Assuming, however, a minimum of editing and that the letter as published does accurately represent the author's views, this response is indicative of the approach adopted by fanatical atheists determined to misrepresent people of faith as irrational, superstitious fools who literally believe in anything. Briefly stated, the features of this letter are as follows:

• The patronising tone is typical of militant atheism. But this tone is quite deliberate, and serves a specific purpose. In the same way that certain fundamentalist Christians (for example) begin every theological sentence they utter with the phrase "Biblically speaking" in order to both assert their moral superiority and denigrate their opponents' theological credibility, so militant atheists use this kind of tone to imply both their superior reasoning capacity and undermine the rational credibility of their opponents.
• The next feature is obfuscation. Note how the author states that I complained about journalist Catherine Deveny "highlighting the absurdities of irrational belief". But a careful reading of my letter, even in its edited form, reveals that I did no such thing. What I did say in my letter was that Ms Deveny would be better served refraining from taking the easy option of mocking the abuses of faith that cultural practice or personal vanity sometimes impose, and instead make the effort to understand the interior, lived experience of faith. But this obfuscation, like the patronising tone, is quite deliberate: it is intended to project the militant atheist as the defender of reason and reasonableness against the raving illogicity of theism.
• The next feature is dismissal. The author refers to " 'the lived experience of faith', whatever that is", suggesting that my characterisation of faith as an actuality that informs the life of the theist is, in fact, just a clever confabulation of empty words. The writer then goes on to tell me what this experience actually is: 'the "feel-good" trust in an imaginary friend, or the "fellowship" from "belonging" to a "communion" with a "higher purpose"'. In other words, faith is either a quaint superstition in someone who doesn't actually exist, or a cosy social club for people too afraid to face the world and who accordingly invest themselves with a higher moral purpose as a compensation. Again, the objective is portrayal: the militant atheist has intellectual depth and credibility, whereas the theist is essentially a phoney - and a coward, to boot.
• After all this posturing comes condemnation. The author details various atrocities and horrors perpetrated in the name of faith and / or religion, and on the basis of these, condemns faith in its entirety as irredeemably corrupt and destructive. Of course, the author is careful not to detail all the positive and constructive and humane endeavours undertaken by millions of people around the world and across history on the basis of their lived experience of faith. But beyond this, the author's purpose is simple: any crime perpetrated in the name of God is sufficient to discredit faith in toto. As if: a) people of faith were incapable of being outraged by, and responding to, wrongdoing perpetrated in the name of their faith; and b) religious belief alone is capable of producing crimes and horrors and atrocities. In short, people of faith are by definition mindless automatons incapable of independent thought; faith as a lived experience does not involve wrestling with conscience, or holding in tension the claims of institutional authority with the promptings of individual conviction - it is just a process for mass producing clones who are happy to be complicit in inhumanity.
• Finally, the writer finishes with another round of obfuscation spiced by a dose of pretence to objectivity. Obfuscation in the form of suggesting that I claimed the "consequences of irrational belief" could be separated from religious practice - which I patently did not. The pretence to objectivity is the reference to the crimes of Hitler and Stalin, a passing acknowledgement to non-religiously motivated crimes that is intended solely to boost the militant atheist's "credentials" as an objective, non-partisan humanitarian (an especial irony given atheism was the official theological position of the Soviet Union).

So what is to be made all of this? Reflecting on the last 24 hours, I have become convinced that the problem is not the rise of "assertive atheism". Rather, the problem is that the debate has degenerated into a slanging match between entrenched militants on both sides, whose objective is not to engage in meaningful dialogue and mutual understanding, but to assert their claims to truth to the exclusion of all others. The result is that moderates, both theist and atheist, are being trodden on and silenced, leaving the field to the fanatics and agents provocateur on both sides.

The solution to this can only come through an alliance of moderate, thinking atheists and moderate, thinking theists. By this, I mean those atheists who do not automatically assert that the phrase "thinking person of faith" is an oxymoron; and, likewise, those theists who do not automatically assume the term "atheist" denotes a rabid, aggressively blustering anti-theist. In other words, those theists and atheists who understand they have more in common with one another through a commitment to genuine dialogue and engagement, than they do with the hard-liners on their "own side".

Not that I'm suggesting for a moment that such an alliance should involve each side meekly accepting the views of the other, or conveniently looking the other way in respect of those positions or arguments with which they disagree. Rather, it is the commitment to a genuine process of exchange, in which each side, with humility and integrity, seeks to genuinely understand the other, and apply this understanding to their own assumptions and insights. In short, a process of mutual enrichment based on mutual respect and a shared determination to reject fanaticism.

Of course, I understand that forging such an alliance will be extremely difficult. But I think we owe it to ourselves to try; and I think the cost of not making the attempt will be far too high. Certainly, allowing the fanatics on either side to rule the roost will be to no-one's benefit.

Talk to you soon,

BB.

Quote for the Day: Farce is a genre that's closer to tragedy in its essence than comedy is. (Samuel Taylor Coleridge)

The Need For Engagement

I am a regular reader of The Age Online - which, as the name suggests, is the Internet version of Melbourne's terrific The Age newspaper. Indeed, it's part of my daily routine to read The Age Online to get my fill of what's been happening in the world.

One of the great aspects of TAO is its opinions section. That's because it provides a forum for all sorts of views on all sorts of issues. Many of the views expressed I disagree with; others I find myself in furious agreement with. Then again, some others I find I partially agree with and partially disagree with.

Of course, like every other paper, TAO has regular columnists who provide us with their thoughts on a daily or weekly basis, and "guest" commentators who are either commissioned to write a piece on a particular issue, or whose opinions are sourced from other media outlets. One of TAO's regular columnists is a person by the name of Catherine Deveny. Ms Deveny has been writing for TAO for a couple of months now, and I've noticed a pattern with her columns: she seems to take a particular delight in both wearing her oft-proclaimed atheism on her sleeve, and taking as many potshots as she can against anyone who believes in God.

Ms Deveny's style is simple: she locates any story she can about something absurd or vicious or idiotic being done in the name of God and / or religion, and proclaims, ipso facto, that this "proves" what an appalling thing it is to be a person of faith, and how much more enlightened and superior are those of us who aren't possessed by such a dreadful malaise.

I don't know what Ms Deveny's agenda or motives are. Perhaps she had an awful experience of institutional religion at another time in her life (something to which I can relate) and is angry and bitter and determined to "educate" the world as to the inhumanity of faith. Perhaps she genuinely believes the whole experience of faith is evil and destructive, and sees the need for a "crusade" to eliminate religious belief from the human condition. Or perhaps she just takes a particular pleasure from writing deliberately provocative and accusatory statements about faith and then sitting back and smugly viewing the resulting outrage as proof of her postulate.

Which is a pity. As I've said elsewhere on this blog about Richard Dawkins, the unfortunate thing about these all-religions-are-bad types is that whatever legitimate criticisms they make are buried beneath a veritable landslide of invective, hostility, and sneering name-calling (never mind the intellectual laziness and dishonesty - ironically, the very things which belief in God is supposed to produce - which litter such works). But the bigger disservice they perpetrate is that in adopting such a vindictive approach, they in fact destroy the good they might otherwise do by offering a reasoned and alternative critique of faith. People of faith cannot live in a vacuum; they must accept that others think differently, and attempt to engage with that difference in order to have a healthier, more robust understanding of their own faith.

But that of course requires that those who do not share a belief in God must likewise be prepared to engage with the interior experience of faith, and not simply rest content with mocking some of the absurd agglomerations that humans sometimes impose upon faith through cultural practice or personal vanity. Engagement takes real intellectual vigour and strength; mocking is the easiest thing in the world.

Alas, Ms Deveny's latest column fails this test - just as so many of her previous columns have done likewise. She takes a story about some girl in the UK suing her school because they won't let her wear a "purity ring" - apparently, a sign that, as a "Christian", she has taken a pledge of chastity until she gets married - as yet another indicator that all people of faith are morons. Or, in Ms Deveny's own words, we're all "barking mad". Moreover, the fact that this same school allows Muslim girls to wear headscarves is adduced by Ms Deveny as further evidence that faith is a matter of "mumbo-jumbo" and would be best jettisoned altogether.

Well, I wrote a letter to the editor, didn't I? Not in righteous anger, mind, merely pointing out that Ms Deveny's column might serve some useful purpose if it was about genuine engagement and not self-righteous mockery. Well, the letter was published, albeit in truncated form (you will need to scroll down the page to the letter entitled "Understand the Experience of Faith").

However, given the editing applied to this letter, I have reproduced it below in full.

Many people today describe themselves as "atheist" or "agnostic" or simply as "non-believers" for a variety of reasons ranging from their own experience of institutional religion to a straightforward scepticism about the existence of God. Personally, I welcome the increasing public profile of such persons, partly for the social diversity they provide, but mostly because they require persons of faith to engage with that scepticism and bring it to bear on their own understanding of faith.

However, for the exchange to be genuine, the encounter must operate both ways: those who are sceptics must seek a genuine understanding of the interior experience of faith, and use this to shine a light on their own reservations about religion or the existence of God. Only by doing so can people of each persuasion develop a genuine understanding of, and appreciation for, the other.

It is therefore disappointing that Catherine Deveny's latest column (Age 27/6) continues what is her apparent obsession with mocking the exterior absurdities that people sometimes attach to religion, as opposed to any genuine effort on her part to engage with the interior experience of faith. Does she really think things like "purity rings" are the hallmarks of belief in God and the expression of faith? Does she not understand that most Christians reading an article about a girl suing a school over an item of jewellery will roll their eyes in despair, knowing how superficial critics of faith will seize on this as yet more "evidence" of the absurdity of belief in God? Can she truly not distinguish between the lived experience of faith and the cultural agglomerations and personal vanities that are sometimes imposed upon it?

It is clear Ms Deveny sees herself as some kind of Australian equivalent of Richard Dawkins. My appeal to her is to drop this pretension and meaningfully engage with the interior reality of faith, and not merely some of the bizarre or absurd accoutrements of religion. By all means be sceptical or critical; but please do it from a position of genuine engagement, and not sneering self-righteousness.

Not that I expect Ms Deveny will change. But all we can do is keep trying to put the case that the phrase "thinking Christian" (or Muslim or Jew or Hindu, or Buddhist, etc) is not an oxymoron. Hopefully, there are enough "thinking atheists" who will likewise see the need for engagement and will respond.

Talk to you soon,

BB.

Quote for the Day: A critic is a failed writer - but then, so are most writers! (T S Eliot)

IT - IS - FINISHED!

At long last, after nearly two and a half years, and 166,000 words, I have finally finished writing my novel.

Yeah, okay, so I now have to re-read the whole thing all over again and do what will no doubt be a multitude of corrections - but I've actually finished writing! Who woulda thunk it?

After I've done the corrections, I will need to find a few friends with whom I can stretch the limits of friendship and ask to test read the manuscript...but I'm sure I'll have no trouble finding volunteers! ;0)

Talk to you soon,

BB.

Quote for the Day: Literature is the art of proclaiming in front of everybody the things one is careful to conceal from one's immediate circle. (Jean Rostand)

Beautiful Islamic Art

The Art Gallery of NSW is currently exhibiting a collection of magnificent Islamic art from the Khalili Collection, one of the largest and finest collections of Islamic art in the world.

Dr Nasser David Khalili is an Iranian Jewish scholar who collects art in order to promote understanding and peace between cultures. His collection ranges across the entire span of Islamic history, and includes manuscripts, statues, glassware, furniture, and jewellery, and totals over 20,000 objects. Dr Khalili is also involved with the Maimonides Foundation Trust, which promotes peace and understanding between Jews and Muslims.

Sadly, I won't be able to make it to Sydney in order to view the exhibition; but the Art Gallery has an excellent website - and although the site is incomplete (the online exhibition has yet to be posted), what's already there looks fantastic, and I'll be re-visiting the site to check out the exhibition images once they come online.

The music accompanying the exhibition also sounds wonderful; I'm thinking that when the CD becomes available, a copy might just join my collection of sacred music.

Talk to you soon,

BB.

Quote for the Day: Dispute not, unless in kindly fashion, with the people of the Book, save with such of them as have acted wrongfully toward you; and say to them, "We believe in what has been sent down to us and sent down to you. Our God and your God is one, and to him we are self-surrendered". (Qur'an, Sura 26:45)

Friedrich Nietzsche: Not The Devil In Disguise

I've been reading and thinking a lot about Friedrich Nietzsche lately.

Nietzsche does not enjoy a good press among Christians. Those Christians who have any knowledge of his work tend to think of him as one of the great 19th Century humanist bogeymen, a vitriolic anti-theist who vilified the church, mocked faith, and made such outrageously provocative statements as "It's indecent to be a Christian these days" and, more famously, "God is dead".

So it's hardly surprising that Christians tend to take a dim view of Nietzsche. But I have a somewhat different view of poor old Friedrich; indeed, I think he is one of the most misunderstood and wrongly maligned figures in human intellectual history. And the reason why I hold this view is grounded in the social and historical context in which he operated.

By Nietzsche's lifetime, the church, in Europe and elsewhere, had come to be seen not as the agency through which society was challenged and renewed, but as one of the pillars of the establishment supporting the status quo. The church was middle-class, complacent, and conservative, smugly assured of its own moral superiority, and deeply suspicious of any move toward change or re-ordering. The country parson with his butterfly collection, the metropolitan priest with his well-made house, the bishops and prelates with their palaces and political privileges: all these were viewed as emblematic of a church that was out of touch with the reality in which most people lived, and indifferent to the fate of those for whom it should have been caring.

So it comes as no surprise that Nietzsche's devastating critique should have burst into this insular, self-satisfied world with the force of an exploding bomb. This was especially the case given he was himself the son of a clergyman; and although Nietzsche was devoted to his father, and later paid for a beautiful headstone to be laid on his father's grave, in which was inscribed a passage from 1 Corinthians 13:8 - Love never dies - Nietzsche was excoriated by the Christians of his time. Indeed, in the parish registry that records his birth, someone later wrote: Friedrich Nietzsche - a known anti-Christ.

But was this fearful, demonising reaction warranted? True, Nietzsche wrote many harsh and uncompromising things about Christianity, much of which can be arguably viewed as excessive or overstated. But within this excess and overstatement lay a core of legitimate criticism overlooked by Nietzsche's detractors; indeed, they often failed to see that this over-the-top style itself served an important purpose.

Firstly: what was Nietzsche's principle objection to Christianity? Well, he didn't object to Christianity as such, he objected to the platitudes and home-spun homilies to which he felt conventional, unthinking faith gave rise. For example, Nietzsche argued that traditional Christian consolations that experiences such as sickness, failure, and suffering were "all part of God's plan" or "would turn out for the best" were highly destructive, because they involved a denial of life and prevented humans from achieving their full potential. Nietzsche based this objection on his principle that the truly healthy person does not seek to avoid or minimise suffering or hardship, nor do they even accept it as part of the reality of being; instead, they actively embrace "negative" experiences as part of the totality of existence, a totality that needed to be engaged with as a whole in order for a person to live a truly happy life.

Nietzsche argued that the "religion of happiness", the view that happiness is either the absence or minimisation of suffering, was implicit in traditional Christian consolations. By arguing that negative experiences were all "part of God's plan", Christians of the conventional variety denied humans their capacity to respond to the vicissitudes of life, and thereby caused themselves and others to lapse into apathy and lassitude. Likewise, by suggesting that everything would "turn out for the best", they provided false comfort that only exposed people to even greater suffering once "the best" did not eventuate. Nietzsche argued that a far better approach was be to meet suffering and hardship head on; that instead of tying to console ourselves, we should appreciate the value of hardship, its capacity to add meaning and fulfilment to our lives. This was the attitude to life which Nietzsche attributed to the "superman", a concept later misappropriated and warped by the Nazis to justify their theories of racial superiority.

Nietzsche compared the complacent, self-satisfied Christianity of his own time with the faith of the early church. He argued that the early church, in its attitudes, had been much closer to the "superman", the truly healthy human being, because it enabled people to engage with life and deal with suffering in ways that added meaning to existence. By contrast, the conventional Christianity Nietzsche saw around all around him was content with platitudes and maxims that unhealthily restrained human nature, restricting its capacity to wrestle with suffering and emerge as something greater than it had been previously. In other words, Nietzsche believed that Christianity could only have value if it was direct, vigorous, and muscular, instead of timorous, conventional, and apathetic.

Secondly: what was the point of the hyperbolic language in which Nietzsche often couched his criticism? Simply, it was to get a reaction. But a reaction not for the purpose of attention-seeking or self-aggrandisement; on the contrary, Nietzsche was trying to rouse those whom he saw as fatally asleep, and he felt the best way he could do this was to alert Christians, through the medium of harsh language, to the existential danger of their condition. Nietzsche felt that once they were awake, and once they had sufficiently recovered from the shock of waking, they would be able to rationally analyse their position, and thereby be motivated to change their approach to life and faith.

Alas, he was only partially successful. He certainly shocked many Christians out of their complacency; but they never really got over the experience. Instead of turning the energy of their shock into reforming Christianity, they utilised it to attack Nietzsche and denigrate him as an "anti-Christ" and a subversive. Well, he may certainly have been a subversive, but it was a subversion that was desperately needed.

And how is any of this relevant today? Quite simply because there has been much discussion among Christians (and people of faith generally) as to how they respond to the likes of Richard Dawkins and Christopher Hitchins, and their loud and vociferous attacks on faith and religion. Some argue that they should be simply ignored. But I think this would be a mistake for two reasons; one, because it would leave the intellectual field to Dawkins and co, and I don't think they deserve it; and, two, because sticking our heads in the sand would do an injustice to both ourselves and our critics. Others believe we should use Dawkins' and Hitchins' own weapons against them, and deal insult for insult, gross generalisation for gross generalisation. But I also think this, too, would be a mistake, because descending into the sewer of ignorance is, ultimately, an ineffective weapon; you only end up tainting yourself.

So how should we respond? Quite simply, by adopting a Nietzschean approach, by becoming "supermen" who engage with and embrace our critics, who wrestle with their criticisms and incorporate them into our life experience in order to become something greater than the sum of our parts. That does not mean we must meekly accept any old calumny which Dawkins or Hitchins choose to throw at us, nor that we refrain from arguing back or pointing out the flaws, errors, inconsistencies, and downright untruths of their position. Rather, it means that we should see Dawkins and Hitchins not as our enemies, but as people doing us a great and necessary service; for beneath the hyperbole and prejudice are legitimate criticisms that should spur us to reform and renewal - without in any way compromising our opposition to their anti-theism.

Afterall, it was Karl Marx, that arch-atheist of all atheists, who, writing about Nietzsche, declared: "Shame on you, Christians! Shame on you that it took an atheist to demonstrate to you the essence of your own faith!".

Talk to you soon,

BB.

Quote for the Day: Philosophy is common sense in a dress suit. (Oliver Braston)

Who's Afraid of Industrial "Reform"?

As the Australian Federal election starts to loom large on the horizon of most Australians' political consciousness, and as opinion polls continue to suggest that the Labor Opposition are in with a real chance of breaking the Howard Government's decade-long stranglehold on power, industrial relations is shaping up as one of the key battlegrounds for the hearts and minds of the voting public.

In some respects, the pitches thrown at voters by both sides are somewhat predictable. The Howard Government continues to trot out the tired old whipping horse of secretive "union power" should the ALP win the next election; the ALP continue to pose as the party that champions decency and fairness in the employment relationship. Yet, beneath these familiar masks lurk some subtleties that may have escaped most people's attention. For in reality this is not a battle between parties with opposing perspectives on industrial relations, but a contest to determine who can best massage their message and thereby convince the public of their right to electoral support.

In part, this is played out in the overt messages that are issued by both the Coalition and the ALP. The Coalition continue to trumpet their record as "economic managers", pointing to Australia's "record low" unemployment figures as proof of the veracity of Coalition industrial policy, and in particular, the so-called "Workchoices" changes to industrial relations legislation. The ALP responds by arguing that the Howard Government have simply benefited from "reforms" instituted by the Hawke/Keating Labor Governments, while at the same time strongly playing up the social injustice implications of the Government's industrial policy.

But this posturing only hides the less attractive reality. The "official" unemployment figures are highly suspect, both methodologically and qualitatively. Aside from the fact that the "unemployment" rate only counts those who are formally registered with the Government's privatised "Jobs Network" (and many tens of thousands of people are not so registered, for a variety of reasons), the integrity of the figure suffers from rules such as the stipulation that an "employed" person is defined as someone who has an hour or more of paid employment per week. So if you are unfortunate enough to suffer from irregular or highly variable hours of work, you are counted as gainfully "employed"! The truth is that the real unemployment / underemployment rate in Australia is at least double the "official" (and supposedly "record low") rate. But this is the kind of duplicity that is to be expected from a Government who have made an artform out of dissembling, distorting, obfuscating, and downright dishonesty.

For the ALP's part, it is essentially attempting to have its cake and eat it, too. On the one hand, it argues that it is as economically "competent" (if not more so) than the Government, citing the aforementioned "reforms" under previous Federal Labor governments. On the other hand, it portrays itself as the friend of the working person / self-employed person / skilled tradesperson against the "big end of town"; the friend of the "battler" and the "aspirational class". This is a decidedly dishonest strategy, replete as it is with a sad combination of "me-too" politics and phoney class identification. The "reforms" of the Hawke/Keating Governments opened the door for the lamentable erosion of citizens' capacity to direct their own industrial / financial future that has been entrenched by the policies of the Howard Government; and even as it has been turning its back on its social-democratic foundations and mindlessly embracing neo-liberal economic orthodoxies, the ALP has been posturing as the party of social equality and conscience.

And it is this essential artificiality on both sides of politics that has underscored some of the recent manoeuvrings on industrial relations. Stung by a highly effective union campaign against the "Workchoices" legislation (an effectiveness derived in large part from the fact that the campaign drew on the real experiences of people victimised by the "reforms"), the Howard Government has dropped the "Workchoices brand", recruited the employers federations (isn't it funny how they're never called "bosses unions"?) to fund a multi-million dollar pro-Workchoices ad campaign, and have seized on the fact that the union movement has a campaign strategy for the forthcoming election to hysterically suggest an ALP-union conspiracy. Predictably, the ALP have attempted to destroy the claim of union control by assuring employers that unions will have neither a free rein nor a guaranteed future should the ALP win power, and has bent over backwards to water down its initially robust policy response to "Workchoices" as a sop to the powerful employer federations (no hint of a Coalition-business conspiracy, though).

But perhaps one of the most sweeping - and yet unnoticed, or at least, uncommented upon - aspects of the ALP's industrial policy has been its proposal to effectively make the governance of industrial relations an arm of the public service. It proposes doing this in two ways: by making the oversight of industrial relations the province of a "one-stop shop" entity called "Fair Work Australia"; and by abolishing the Australian Industrial Relations Commission (AIRC). True, the AIRC has effectively been reduced to a shadow of its former self under "Workchoices", and its substantive functions outsourced to creatures of the Howard Government such as the Australian Fair Pay Commission and the Office of the Employment Advocate; but the proposed abolition of the Commission represents the effective abandonment of a framework that has made Australia’s IR system unique in the industrialised world.

As an independent judiciary, the AIRC has been the sole instrumentality capable of holding both capital and labour to account, restraining the excesses of both mindless union militancy and callous libertarian capitalism. The net result has been an economic prosperity and social cohesiveness the envy of the rest of the world, built largely on Keynesian principles of judicious intervention in the economy, and achieved without the appalling inequalities that characterise the “boom” economies of post-Thatcherite Britain and post-Reaganomics America.

That the Coalition should wish to see the Commission eviscerated is hardly surprising, given the dominance of neo-liberal ideologues on the conservative side of politics. That this feat will be enacted by the ALP should it win power not only indicates a similar neo-liberal ascendancy in what passes for progressive politics in Australia, it also points to a shockingly one-dimensional understanding of economics. In other words, it’s not actually about the economy - that is, the totality of the relationship between business, finance, employment, human dignity, bargaining power and social equity - it’s actually about convincing the electorate who can secure the biggest budget surpluses, maintain the lowest interest rates, and provide the biggest tax cuts.

Moreover, the name of the entity which the ALP propose will take over the role of the AIRC not only smacks of the jingoism for which the present Federal Government is notorious, given the politicisation of the public service under that selfsame government, it produces the alarming prospect that the entity itself will simply be a tool of party politics. There are already sufficient examples of this under the Howard Government for the potential loss of an independent AIRC to be truly worrying. Equally importantly, it makes a mockery of the rubric under which these “reforms” have been proposed: fair for all, not free for all.

Without an independent judiciary, industrial relations in Australia will become a free-for-all. And, as usual, the ones to suffer will be the most helpless: those with the least bargaining power; those without skills or only minimal skills; those stuck in the round of casualised work, unemployment, and underemployment. The Australian economy - that is, the nexus between human dignity and bargaining power in the workplace - is already on shaky ground; the “reforms” proposed by the ALP - and the further "reforms" that will almost certainly be implemented by the Coalition should they win the next election - may well cut the ground out from under working Australians completely and irrevocably.

Talk to you soon,

BB.

Quote for the Day: A poll is when people come to their census. (Anonymous)

What's Your Theological Worldview?

I found this little quiz on Louise's Blog via Caro's blog.

What's Your Theological Worldview?

You scored as Emergent/Postmodern, You are Emergent/Postmodern in your theology. You feel alienated from older forms of church, you don't think they connect to modern culture very well. No one knows the whole truth about God, and we have much to learn from each other, and so learning takes place in dialogue. Evangelism should take place in relationships rather than through crusades and altar-calls. People are interested in spirituality and want to ask questions, so the church should help them to do this.

Emergent/Postmodern		64%
Neo orthodox		61%
Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan		57%
Classical Liberal		57%
Roman Catholic		54%
Modern Liberal		46%
Charismatic/Pentecostal		39%
Reformed Evangelical		36%
Fundamentalist		7%

What's your theological worldview?
created with QuizFarm.com

Hmmm...not sure I agree with all the conclusions of this quiz, especially the disillusioned bit...that's putting a bit too strongly some of the concerns and issues I feel...good to know, however, that I've only got a teensy-weensy bit of the fundamentalist in me!

Talk to you soon,

BB.

Quote for the Day: Modernity: all signposts and no destination. (Louis Kronenburger)

Which Wine Are You?

Well, seeing as Caro's blog keeps coming up with these interesting little quizzes - and because my Dearly Beloved reckons I like a good w(h)ine - I couldn't resist this one, either!

You Are Chardonnay

Fresh, spirited, and classic - you have many facets to your personality. You can be sweet and light. Or deep and complex. You have a little bit of something to offer everyone... no wonder you're so popular. Approachable and never smug, you are easy to get to know (and love!). Deep down you are: Dependable and modest Your partying style: Understated and polite Your company is enjoyed best with: Cold or wild meat

What Kind of Wine Are You?

I reckon they've got me down to a tee!

Talk to you soon,

BB.

Quote for the Day: No longer drink only water, but also take a little wine for the sake of your stomach and for all your ailments. 1 Timothy 5:23 (NRSV)

Which Theologian Are You?

My buddy Caro had this quiz on her blog and I just couldn't resist!






















Which theologian are you?

You scored as a Friedrich Schleiermacher

You seek to make inner feeling and awareness of God the centre of your theology, which is the foundation of liberalism. Unfortunately, atheists are quick to accuse you of simply projecting humanity onto 'God' and liberalism never really recovers.

Friedrich Schleiermacher 73%
Karl Barth 60%
Paul Tillich 60%
Jürgen Moltmann 60%
Anselm 60%
John Calvin 60%
Martin Luther 53%
Augustine 40%
Charles Finney 33%
Jonathan Edwards 13%

Which Theologian Are You?

Talk to you soon,

BB

Quote for the Day: Theology is the effort of explaining the unknowable in terms that are not worth knowing. (H L Mencken)

Venting Some Spleen

Maybe it's the fact that I managed to survive my semester exams intact (although the outcome of said exams is still unknown), but I saw this article in yesterday's Age by Christopher Hitchens that really made my blood boil.

It's not that I disagree with Hitchens on two key points - that the recent media frenzy about Paris Hilton has been ugly and distasteful, and that Hilton herself is a rather sad individual - what set me off was the hectoring and morally self-righteous tone of the whole piece. Here was rich ground upon which to explore the social meaning of the whole "Hilton saga", while at the same time expressing some genuine concern for a damaged human being. But what does Hitchens do? He indulges in self-righteous diatribe replete with artificial, self-referencing mea culpas, the ultimate effect of which was to proclaim Hitchens' bombastic sense of his own moral superiority.

Why am I getting so worked up about this? Because I am getting rather tired of the presently prevailing notion that intellectual and moral rigour are synonymous with aggressive conceit and plain rudeness towards those with whom one disagrees. From Richard Dawkins' anti-theist crusades (in which Hitchens himself has participated) to every two-bit commentator and self-proclaimed moral crusader on talk-back radio, there's a wash of loud-mouths out there who believe their right to expression also involves a right to lambaste and vilify.

And I, frankly, am sick of it. Most of all, I am sick of occasions when, even in the midst of making a valid point, someone nonetheless stoops to name calling or sneering deprecation.

And so I fired off a letter to The Age. I'm afraid I was rather annoyed when I wrote it, and it resembles a Hitchensesque rant. But I think I made my point. You can read the rather editorially truncated letter here, (you'll need to scroll down to the letter entitled "Holier Hitchens"!!), or you can read the unedited version reproduced below. (You may want to read the article first to place the letter in context).

Christopher Hitchens' pompous, phoney counter-culturalism (The Age 13/6) reveals that he possesses not a single shred of genuine compassion for Paris Hilton, only that he views her sad plight as another opportunity to vent his splenetic sense of moral superiority over the rest of the world.

I say this having agreed with Hitchens' on two points: firstly, the hysterical media coverage of Hilton's travails has been truly obscene; and, secondly, that Hilton herself is a rather forlorn figure whose narcissistic expectations of life as a meal ticket are reflective of the venal undercurrent of consumer capitalism.

But Hitchens himself is not content with exploring the fact that if Ms Hilton had not been brought up as a self-involved person-turned-consumer-product surrounded by fawning lackeys, her current encounter with the legal system may not have been as traumatic as it evidently has been. Within these issues lie genuine cause for reflection on the nature of our society, as well as compassion for the damaged, truncated human being who is the subject of Hitchens' rant.

Instead, Hitchens uses this situation as the pretext for a histrionic diatribe as narcissistic and self-important as the banal pronouncements of any self-proclaimed "celebrity". This is made even more odious by the artificial self-admonishments for involving himself in the "Hilton drama" which punctuate his piece. Here is Hitchens in all his glorious self-righteousness: condemning the rest of the world while proclaiming his own moral superiority for having sufficient conscience to feel bad about making a buck off Hilton's misery.

No more of this smug artificiality. If the whole Hilton saga must produce an op-ed piece, at least let it be in a form that incisively dissects the social meaning of this matter while at the same time displaying genuine compassion for a sad human being.

So there you have it: that's me in attack mode. Now I'll just go back to being a quiet little church mouse...

Talk to you soon,

BB.

Quote for the Day: Learned conversation is either the affectation of the ignorant or the profession of the mentally unemployed. (Oscar Wilde)

Exams Schmexams!

Yesterday, I sat exams for the first time since I left high school - and the first of these was Greek!

You may recall from earlier posts my somewhat hysterical reaction to Greek; the complexities of its grammar, the convolutions of its noun declensions and verbal conjugations. Indeed, by the end of the first day of the pre-semester introduction, I was ready to chuck the whole subject in before I'd even started - that, and a good deal more besides! To say Yours Truly came close to a complete emotional breakdown is an understatement of vast proportions!

But I decided to stick at it - not so much from hope as sheer bloody-minded stubbornness. Even as other members of the class began to fall away and decide it was too tough to continue, I ignored the rising tide of panic within my cowardly heart and pretended to absorb the information my lecturer provided in ever-increasing abundance. Ultimately, as the class numbers stabilised, I found an effective mechanism for dealing with my fear: I resigned myself to failure.

Now, before you object too strenuously and start banging on about the need to keep up a positive attitude and all the rest of that optimistic guff, let me tell you that it worked very successfully. Resigning myself to failure meant I no longer approached my Greek classes with trepidation: indeed, an air of serene detachment seemed to pervade the whole of my being. And it must have done some good, because against all expectations, I kept on passing the weekly tests that were part of the subject assessment. And that's the joy about not having any expectations: because this state, being a form of expectation in itself, always produces joy when it is not fulfilled. The expectation that does not exist cannot be unfulfilled - it can only be joyously contradicted.

So do I think I've passed the subject? Who knows; for myself, a bare pass will be good enough, and anything beyond that an unlooked-for bonus. But let this be a lesson to the rest of you: never underestimate the constructive power of negative thinking.

Talk to you soon,

BB.

Quote for the Day: Optimism is the digitalis of failure. (Elbert Hubbard)

My First Sermon

The universe has been having some fun at my expense this week.

This morning I was scheduled to deliver my first sermon. The opportunity to do so arose because our local minister utilised the long weekend to take a more than well-earned break. Fortunately, my local Uniting Church congregation is blessed with any number of people who can lead a service and preach a sermon; but given my Dearly Beloved and I are presently applying to candidate to the ordained ministry of the Uniting Church, our minister offered us this chance to preach in his absence.

My Dearly Beloved has had some opportunity to preach as a consequence of her work as a school teacher; and so she graciously allowed me to take up the offer to preach this sermon. Moreover, our minister has generously offered to mentor my Dearly Beloved and I and take us through some of the issues, methods, and skills of preaching; and so I thought this would be an unprecedented opportunity to get some preaching experience under my belt.

I won't bore you with all the details of how I went about constructing the sermon; afterall, everyone approaches this task differently, and everyone has their own method that works for them. But I will say how gratified (and surprised) I was to discover that many of my initial impressions gelled closely with observations made by the various biblical commentaries I consulted; and, more importantly, how such commentaries enabled me to expand upon my first reading, enabled me to access a more complete insight that was a combination of personal reflection and the wisdom of those much more learned than myself.

I guess that's just a long-winded way of saying I was delighted to realise I didn't get it completely wrong!

Additionally, having the benefit of my Dearly Beloved's experience as an English teacher, and our minister's experience as a, well, minister, really made the difference in shaping my sermon from a rambling mish-mash into an at least vaguely coherent commentary. So I was reasonably confident that I'd be able to deliver something worth making people get up on a Sunday morning to listen to.

All I had to do was deliver the sermon. And that's where the cosmos stepped in.

For the past week, I have been battling a cold that started as a mild irritation in my throat on Monday, and by Friday had become a full-blown malaise characterised by a running nose, a throbbing head, burning eyes, and a 48-hour absence of sleep. And all this in a week in which I was meant to be studying for my Greek and Biblical Text exams scheduled for next Tuesday. To make matters worse, given this was to be my preaching debut, my parents decided they would attend the service to watch their little boy in action. Needless to say, I wasn't in any fit state to be doing any studying; and it was looking like I wasn't going to able to deliver any sermon, either! My preaching "arrival" looked over before it had even commenced!

The universe was pissing itself, no doubt. Personally, I had no trepidations about my capacity to deliver the projected sermon - a decade addressing meetings of angry union members as an organiser had more than prepared me for facing a church congregation. The issue was whether or not I'd be physically capable!

Fortunately, my condition improved over Saturday, due in large measure to hefty doses of medication, aided and abetted by 8 blissful hours of uninterrupted sleep on Saturday night. By Sunday morning I was feeling as washed out as a load of winter washing, but my nose had stopped dripping, my throat was no longer burning, and my eyes had returned to their normal focal acuity (admittedly not great). My voice still sounded like a kazoo with a severely strangled hernia, but as I explained to the congregation, having suffered for the sake of this sermon, it was now their turn to do likewise.*

Anyhoo, the upshot is that everything went swimmingly. Not because I was particularly good, but because the congregation responded with the grace and generosity which I have now come to expect from them. They laughed at all my gags, didn't yawn or fidget, somehow managed to preserve interested expressions on their faces, and after the service offered much undeserved praise and compliments. And because they are such good and generous people, I was able to walk away from the service with a nice inner glow! (Mum and Dad also thought I did good, too!)

So, all in all, a wonderfully affirming and rewarding experience. Now all I have to do is cram a week's worth of study into the next 24 hours!

Talk to you soon,

BB

Quote for the Day: Sermons are like pie-crusts: the shorter the better. (Austin O'Malley)

*Yes, I know this is an old gag, but under the circumstances, highly appropriate!

Richard Dawkins: A Reply

I've not read Richard Dawkins' best-selling book, The God Delusion, but I have watched his television spin off, The Root of All Evil? I found it interesting and engaging viewing, if only because Dawkins was not so much convincing as amusing in his splenetic attempts to portray all persons of faith as, at best, misguided, and at worst, dangerous irrationals guilty of every crime from child abuse to terrorism.

Having said all this, there were issues of import buried beneath the invective; the pity of this program was that the legitimate criticisms and concerns Dawkins articulated were shouted down by his own loud and bitter polemic. The parade of fundamentalists, bigots, and isolationists whom Dawkins paraded before the camera did serve to remind all people - but especially people of faith - of the dangers posed by arrogance, hubris, and conceit. But the underlying premises upon which Dawkins operated - that the phrase "intelligent person of faith" is an oxymoron, and that religion actually has anything to do with God - not only portray his own bigotry, but undermine the valid points he did raise.


So, what were my impressions of this program? Briefly, my thoughts below:

• Dawkins focused on the "easy targets". As indicated above, Dawkins paraded one extremist after another before the cameras in order to buttress his argument that religion is not only a nest of rabid radicals, but that it breeds generation after generation of the same. Perhaps more significantly, he only presented one "moderate" in more than two hours of television - the Anglican Bishop of Oxford. In other words, Dawkins made no attempt to seek out or present the views of moderates who would provide countervailing evidence to his central thesis. Hardly what you'd call intellectual honesty from someone who spends a lot of time banging on about his reasoned atheism; but, more disturbingly, it is indicative of an intellectual laziness that does both science and faith a grave disservice.
• Dawkins tarred everyone with the same brush. Related to the above point, the effect of Dawkins' slanted presentation was to tar all persons of faith with the same brush: not only are we ignorant fools believing absurd fairy tales, we're actually incapable of both reasoned analysis and/or reasoned behaviour. In short, we're all potentially dangerous, potentially violent, and certainly imbecilic, irrationals. Not only is this supposition patently false and offensive, it is indicative again of Dawkins' own intellectual laziness and bigotry.
• Dawkins made no reference to the debate between moderates and fundamentalists. Conveniently for Dawkins' presentation of all persons of faith as irrational extremists, he made no reference to the strong and ongoing debate within all faiths between moderates who see faith as a process of growth, exploration, and freedom, and those fundamentalists who regard faith as a matter of rules, fear, and obedience. The significance of this is that Dawkins can't actually show that many millions of people are not the wild-eyed berserkers he portrays them to be, or that they are engaged in an ongoing effort to prevent faith from being hijacked by extremists - because if he did, his whole thesis would collapse. In other words, Dawkins was intellectually dishonest by omission.
• Science and faith. Related to the above point, Dawkins was very careful not to present those scientists who are not only people of faith, they are actually confirmed in that faith by their work as scientists. In part, this is because Dawkins wants to present science (and scientists) as a field (and people) free from the "infection" of faith; but mostly because Dawkins wants to present science and faith as diametrically opposed to one another, because that suits his purpose of presenting science as reason and faith as irrationality. But he makes no mention of prominent scientists like Paul Davies who are definitely theists; nor does he mention the contributions to science made by Father Angelo Secchi SJ, for example; nor does he even acknowledge that the modern science of paleontology was effectively founded by English country parsons who were passionate about natural theology! Interestingly, he did not even make mention of the observation by fellow physicist and atheist Stephen Hawking that the only people who agree with him these days are theologians.
• Confusion of terms. Dawkins seems incapable of understanding that faith does not involve a "suspension of disbelief" as he contends, but does involve the necessity of holding different concepts or perspectives in tension. In other words, at its core, faith is a mystery, and the essence of all mysteries is a preparedness to embrace ambiguity, to enter into that which cannot be empirically known. Christians (or Jews or Muslims) cannot "prove" God exists any more than atheists can "prove" God doesn't exist; but this does not involve a suspension of disbelief, it involves holding in tension what can be empirically proven and what can be spiritually experienced.
• Confusing religion with God. As noted above, one of the mistakes Dawkins makes is to imagine religion has anything to do with God. In other words, Dawkins seems to suggest that the extreme elements within religion demonstrate that God does not exist by virtue of the very irrationality of those extremisms. Aside from being circular arguing, and aside also from the fact that since he cannot actually prove God doesn't exist Dawkins is reduced to attacking religion as a proxy for God, Dawkins cannot seem to appreciate that religion is not about God or from God; rather, it is the human response to God and the possibility of God. Therefore, that there are flaws within religion - as within any other human endeavour, such as science - is only to be expected. But those flaws say nothing about God, nor even about whether or not God exists.
• Intellectual fraud. Despite Dawkins' protestations that science is the realm of reason and enlightenment, science is replete with cases of intellectual fraud. Among these are the notorious Piltdown Man, cold nuclear fusion, and molecular scale transistors. Happily, these were exposed by other scientists, pointing to one of the strengths of the scientific method: peer review and review committees. But the mere fact of these frauds demonstrates that Dawkins' contention that there is something about religion which is inherently dishonest and which promotes intellectual dishonesty is itself completely dishonest.
• The basis for belief. Dawkins asserts that persons of faith simply "make a decision to believe" in the existence of God or the veracity of scriptural texts. This gross generalisation betrays Dawkins' complete ignorance about the process by which people come to faith; he seems to assume that people just wake up one day and decide that they will believe in God or accept a particular text as authoritative. But for many people, the process that leads to belief is painful or traumatic, precisely because they don't want to believe in God, but some inner conviction militates against this, no matter how hard they try to ignore it. It only requires a careful reading of C S Lewis' Surprised by Joy to appreciate how utterly absurd Dawkins' flippant remark in this respect is.
• Selectivity. Dawkins accuses moderates of "fence sitting" and selective use of scriptural texts to reinforce their delusions of intellectual respectability. But this is exactly what Dawkins does to reinforce his gripes against faith: he selects those passages from the Bible that speak about killing and death and capital punishment to justify his claim that God is a vicious, homicidal fiction. Curiously, he never mentions the 2,000-odd references to justice for the poor and marginalised that Christ spoke in the Gospels; or the many passages in the Books of Amos, Hosea, Jeremiah, or Micah which condemn the powerful for victimising the helpless. Ultimately - and ironically - what Dawkins' does is replicate the same mistake the fundamentalists make: he selectively hurls proof texts at his opponents to justify his own prejudices.
• Reason for belief. Dawkins asserts that people of faith venerate scriptures that teach hate; that they stubbornly and intransigently indulge in hidebound belief for belief's sake; and that people should do good things for their own sake instead of because they want to suck up to God. Once again, all these bigoted statements do is highlight Dawkins' own ignorance of the religious impulse. With the exception of literalist fundamentalists, persons of faith do not venerate scriptures of their own accord; that would be idolatry, raising those scriptures to the same level of God. Scriptures are "venerated" because they form authoritative texts depicting the human response to the possibilities of God throughout human history. Moreover, belief is not indulged in for its own sake; it is an approach to life, an approach that encompasses moral, theological, rational, and social dimensions that are reflective of the relationship between humanity and the divine. Finally, "sucking up to God" simply is not the reason most people of faith act morally; they do so because they believe it reflects the love which God has for humanity. "Sucking up" is simply Dawkins' puerile and childish attempt to denigrate this sense of the human-divine relationship.

Was there anything in Dawkins' program that was legitimate? Yes; he made a number of important observations about the distortions and abuses of faith that must be guarded against: intellectual dishonesty; authoritarianism and isolationism; the corporatisation of faith; the hijacking of faith by nationalism; the failure to act decisively against the abuse of children; arrogance and self-righteousness. But these are abuses and distortions are not limited to faith; they are dangers that are latent within any human enterprise. More importantly, Dawkins' ranting and self-important posturing only serves to undermine the legitimate criticisms he does make. Combined with his own methodological laziness and intellectual dishonesty, they make for an end product that comes over more like a childish rant than a reasoned or considered critique.

More's the pity.

Talk to you soon,

BB.

Quote for the Day: A fanatic is someone who sticks to his guns, regardless of whether they're loaded or not. (Franklin P. Jones)

Bogroll Blues

Life involves certain inevitabilities.

Someone else always takes the last after-dinner mint. There's never anyone around when you have something brilliantly witty to say. The perfect come-back occurs to you hours after you've been insulted. Toilet rolls are impossible to unwind.

No kidding. And I know what you're thinking: what could be easier than unwinding a roll of toilet paper? Afterall, millions of people do it all over the world, every day.

Yeah, well, other people don't get my toilet paper. Now don't get squeamish on me: I'm talking about toilet paper immediately after it's been taken out of its plastic wrapper.

Every roll I get always comes with the first ply of paper sealed down to the rest of the roll. So no problem, you say: just unpeel it, and the rest is child's play. Except for the fact that once I've unwound the roll a single circuit, I discover that the spot immediately under the first ply is also stuck down to the rest of the roll.

Why do they do this? I can understand sealing down the first ply; afterall, you don't want the whole roll of paper unravelling in its packaging. But why is the corresponding ply for the next half dozen circuits also sealed down? What do they think is going to happen - that some toilet roll gremlin is going to sneak into the master toilet roll repository and unwind ever damn roll in the place? Okay, so accidents happen; seals come unstuck, so it pays to be cautious. I could understand if they sealed the relevant ply on the second circuit - but the next half dozen as well?

I mean, would it be that much of a disaster if the occasional roll unwound in the packaging? Hell, speaking for myself, I would be positively delighted to remove a roll of toilet paper from the package to find the end flapping loosely in the breeze. No problem: straight on the dispenser and straight into action!

But nooooo - every roll of paper Yours Truly gets his hands on is stuck down for layer after layer after layer. Which means lots of fiddling and muttering and swearing as I try and unstick each layer; because - and you know what I'm talking about - one loop of paper is never enough.

So then I only make things worse by trying to be clever. You'd think I learn, wouldn't you? I try and circumvent the seals by tearing laterally across the roll of paper to a depth of several circuits, the idea being that if I get down to a level which doesn't have a seal, I'll be able to unwind the roll at ease. All I end up with are lots of half circuits of paper - and a bloody roll that's still sealed!

*Sigh*

Once - just once - I'd like to buy a brand of toilet paper that was easy to unroll. I mean - and I'm not going to get into gruesome details - there are times when ease of unroll makes a heck of a difference to my day. Especially the morning after the evening I consumed a super-hot Mexicana pizza with extra jalapeno peppers!

So here's a heartfelt plea to the manufacturers of loo rolls everywhere: can you please, please, please find a way of making user-friendly toilet paper? If customer satisfaction means anything to you guys, you'll really make my day if you can see your way clear to producing toilet paper that doesn't double as confetti!

Talk to you soon,

BB.

Quote for the Day: Capitalism: survival of the fattest. (Anonymous)

The Lost Cause

I have just finished reading a rather remarkable book: Last and First Men by Olaf Stapledon. It is a science fiction novel, originally published in 1931, and is a companion piece with its "sequel" Star Maker, published in 1938.

Olaf Stapledon was a British philosopher who lived from 1886 to 1950. Although he published widely on philosophy, ethics, industrial history, and psychology, it is as a science fiction author that Stapledon is best remembered. He used SF to disseminate his philosophical ideas, and was both commercial successful and critically acclaimed during his life. He was also deeply influential on the science fiction of writers such as Arthur C Clarke, C S Lewis, and Brian Aldiss.

Stapledon's philosophy was essentially existential, although he is now also regarded as one of the pioneers of the philosophy of transhumanism (the philosophy of improving humanity - whether physically or existentially - through genetics, integration with non-organic devices, psychological intervention, etc). The essential problem with which Stapledon grappled in his fiction is eloquently expressed by the Book of Ecclesiastes, 3:11 - God has put eternity into man's mind, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from beginning to end. In other words, the fact that humans have both an innate sense of eternity and of their own mortality and transience; and the question of how this conflict is to be addressed if we are not to lapse into either apathetic melancholy or outright insanity.

Last and First Men is a "future history", in this case, the future of humanity related as a past event by someone living in the remote future. "Future history" is a device that has frequently been used by SF writers from the inception of the genre, usually to extrapolate on a line of speculation arising from present social and/or technological trends. Writers like H G Wells went a step further; in novels like The World Set Free, and, most notably, The Shape of Things to Come, Wells articulated his expectation that humanity would bring itself to the brink of destruction and then establish a kind of utopia in which an enlightened cabal of scientists, technologists, artists and philosophers would assume control of human affairs to bring about genuine civilisation. In effect, these "future history" novels by Wells were extrapolations on Plato's Republic.

Stapledon also utilised a philosophical base for his "future history", although this time it was existentialism. In it, Stapledon depicts humanity's efforts over billions of years to rise above the limitations of its physical self, in order to become pure "intelligence" or "mind" that would be able to establish communion with the "cosmic mind" of all life within the universe. Stapledon did not imagine this "cosmic mind" to be God, so much as the "All Real" or the "Soul of All", the once and always awakening of all life within the cosmos to its own reality and worth, death and entropy notwithstanding. In other words, Stapledon's novel depicts humanity's struggle to understanding itself, to perceive, in objectively verifiable terms, its own "reality" as distinct from its mere existence.

This yearning, this search for transcendence from mere existence into awakened reality, is powerfully expressed toward the end of Stapledon's novel:

For, if ever the cosmic ideal should be realised, even though for a moment only, then in that time the awakened Soul of All will embrace within itself all spirits whatever throughout the whole of time's wide circuit. And so to each of them, even to the least, it will seem that he has awakened and discovered himself to be the Soul of All, knowing all things and rejoicing in all things. And though afterwards, through the inevitable decay of stars, this most glorious vision must be lost, suddenly or in the long-drawn-out defeat of life, yet would the awakened Soul of All have eternal being, and within it each martyred spirit would have beatitude eternally, though unknown to itself in its own temporal mode.

Stapledon's conclusion is gloomy: humanity's efforts to rise above itself, to escape the limitations of flesh and become "spirit" or "mind" and enter into he cosmic communion of life and being are doomed by our species' nature as beings. Yet he also declares that the struggle itself, doomed though it may be, is heroic and beautiful and worth undertaking; it is an aspect of weltschmerz, the terrible cosmic sadness and beauty of being that is part of the whole symmetry and tragedy and glory of the universe.

Man himself, is music, a brave theme that makes music also of its vast accompaniment, its matrix of storms and stars. Man himself in his degree is eternally a beauty in the eternal form of things. It is very good to have been man. And so we may go forward together with laughter in our hearts, and peace, thankful for the past, and for our own courage. For we shall afterall make a fair conclusion to this brief music that is man.

And it is this bitter-sweetness that underlines one of the most extraordinary aspects of Last and First Men: the very fact that its does not see man as immune from the effects of evolution and the operations of the physical universe. Time and again in the novel, humanity is brought low by cataclysmic environmental or geological or astronomic events; time and again, humanity has to adapt to drastically altered climactic conditions. And as a consequence of these changes, humanity evolves: indeed, Stapledon depicts seventeen different human species, each one radically different from its predecessors, but each one also recognisably human. And in doing so, Stapledon draws our attention to a very important point: the present human species is not the "end of evolution". There will come a time when homo sapiens is extinct, either because we have succeeded in destroying ourselves, or because we have (or have been forced to) evolve into a different human species. Just as homo neanderthalis no longer walks the earth, there will come a time when homo sapiens belongs exclusively to the past.

His existence has ever been precarious. At any stage of his career he might easily have been exterminated by some slight alteration of his chemical environment, by a more than usually malignant microbe, by a radical change of climate, or by the manifold effects of his own folly.

Moreover, one of the most startling - and to a modern reader, disturbing - aspect of the novel is the centrality of eugenics to progress human evolution. To be sure, the eugenics Stapledon depicts is not the "racial eugenics" of the Nazis. Rather, Stapledon saw no ethical quandary in humanity manipulating its own physical state - "remaking" itself - in order to improve its psychological/existential/emotional/spiritual condition. This has subsequently developed into the philosophy of transhumanism, and at the time Stapledon wrote, was a widely held and regarded possibility among many scientists and philosophers. Nonetheless, to modern readers it will seem vaguely sinister and disturbing, redolent of Nazi atrocities and nightmares about servile human or quasi-human underclasses (a la the "replicants" in Bladerunner).

Finally, the feature of Stapledon's novel that is most striking is his prescience in anticipating many things that have either come to pass, or which closely resemble what he thought the near future might look like. Granted, he missed his target in several respects - the effectiveness of the League of Nations, for example; the speed with which space technology would develop; the impact of coal burning on the environment; or the development of first atomic and then nuclear weapons - but many of his social and political anticipations are astonishingly accurate. How many of these were reasonably predictable in 1931 I have no idea, but the list is impressive nonetheless:

• The emergence of globalisation - the pre-eminence of industrial-economic imperatives in world affairs - in the late 20th century;
• The emergence of India and China as world economic powers
• The collapse of state totalitarian societies through their inevitable interface with, and dependence upon, market/consumer capitalism;
• The preservation in China of the facade of one party rule with a highly individualised society the underlying reality;
• The global dominance of American cultural, social, and economic values;
• The emergence of Christian fundamentalism in the US and its alliance with radical free-market capitalism;
• The philosophical sympathy between theoretical physics and theology;
• The development of chemical and biological weapons of mass destruction;
• The increasing specialisation and complexity of the various branches of science;
• The pre-occupation of industrialised society with economic growth and mass consumption to the point where resources are exhausted;
• The rapid exhaustion of reserves of fossil fuels and their replacement with renewable alternative energy sources;
• The illusion of material prosperity as an index of human well-being;
• The emergence of the cult of celebrity;
• The emergence of "extreme sports" as a distraction from existential ennui or in the increasingly desperate search for originality;
• The growing importance of "major events" as means of mass entertainment;
• The emergence of anti-intellectualism and the imperative on "practical" or "vocational" education;
• The emergence of existential nihilism as a consequence of excessive materialism.

All this can seem rather depressing, a litany of human failure in the midst of the splendour of being and the majesty of the cosmos. But Stapledon noted that humanity was in many ways a noble creature, striving to rise above its limitations, to become greater than the sum of its parts. Therein lay its great tragedy; but therein also lay its poignant beauty.

We, who have now learnt so thoroughly the the supreme art of ecstatic fatalism, go humbly to the past to learn over again that other supreme achievement of the spirit, loyalty to the forces of life embattled against the forces of death. Wandering among the heroic and often forlorn ventures of the past, we are fired once more with primitive zeal. Thus, when we return to our own world, we are able, even while we preserve in our hearts the peace that passeth understanding, to struggle as though we cared only for victory.

Talk to you soon,

BB.

Quote for the Day: What a piece of work is man! How noble in reason! how infinite in faculty! in form, in moving, how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension how like a god! (William Shakespeare)

Wonderful Sacred Art

Check out My Dearly Beloved's Blog for a link to some wonderful sacred art she's uncovered. Well worth the visit.

Talk to you soon,

BB.

Quote for the Day: Life without industry is guilt, and industry without art is brutality. (John Ruskin)

What To Do?

Last night, my Dearly Beloved and I watched Andrew Denton's excellent documentary "God on My Side", screened on ABC TV. We also watched the first part of the TV adaption of Richard Dawkins' "The God Delusion", likewise screened on ABC. So it was somewhat serendipitous that I read this article in the current edition of Eureka Street.

I provided some comments in response to the article, provided below. However, read the article first then my comments for the proper context.

I plan to provide my thoughts the Dawkins documentary after its conclusion.

Thankyou for this interesting and timely piece.

Like many Australians, I am watching (with interest and fascination) the TV series of "The God Delusion" currently screening on ABC; and I also watched Andrew Denton's "God on My Side" last night, also on ABC.

I actually agree with you that the current surge of anti-theism is a substantial good - although I'm not sure I'd agree with you as to why. My essential feeling is that it is time that "moderate" persons of faith made it clear that the phrase "thinking Christian" (or Jew, or Muslim, or Hindu, etc) is not an oxymoron - which is essentially Dawkins' argument, inasmuch as he asserts that religion, a priori, prevents free thinking and destroys intellectual freedom.

For me, this was brought home when, at the conclusion of Denton's excellent documentary,my wife sighed rather wistfully: "I wish they'd do a film about moderate Christians to show the world we're not all like the fundamentalists".

And that, of course, is the rub; films about fundamentalists get made because they're "interesting" - that is, they are so far outside the lived experience of the vast bulk of the population as to be assured of generating a response (and, hence, commercial success). But the danger, of course, is that the fundamentalists become the sole projection of faith; just as right-wing Republicanism has, sadly, become the sole projection of US society.

And that, in turn, is why the likes of Dawkins regard religious belief as a synonym for unthinking, authoritarian imbecility.

But here's the other rub: the dilemma facing all "moderates" or "progressives" is that, in order to be true to their philosophical raison d'etre, they have to allow others the freedom they claim for themselves. In other words, if someone wants to be a fundamentalist, I have to give them the freedom to be a fundamentalist, otherwise the freedom I claim for myself is simply an illusion at best, a lie at worst.

Extremists of any persuasion don't have this problem: in their minds, they are right, and everyone else has to tow their line. But this "dilemma of conscience" can effectively cripple "moderates" and prevent them asserting themselves, lest they trip over the thin line between self-assertion and oppression. So the question is: how do "moderates" ensure that fundamentalism doesn't become the sole projection of faith, thereby adding more fuel to the anti-theist fire?

I don't have any easy answers to that; partly because I don't think there are any such easy answers; but also because I think part of the solution is to be found in the good that the current wave of anti-theism will do for people of faith. Which is to say, how "thinking Christians" (or Jews or Muslims or Hindus or Buddhists, etc) respond to the charges laid by Dawkins and co in such a way as to demonstrate the fallacy of their position (whilst at the same time recognising any legitimate criticisms they may have to make), may give those same groups an insight into how to ensure fundamentalism doesn't become the sole projection of faith.

Which brings me around to the basic reason why I disagree with you about why the present prominence of Dawkins and Hitchins is good for faith. To be honest, I am rather tired of this notion that Western culture is a bland wash of relativism or that our efforts to afford dignity and respect to competing worldviews is some fatuous ornament to liberal pluralism". On the contrary, I think that Western society is amazingly robust and dynamic, and that its attempts to facilitate multiple approaches to being is both its strength and its greatest validation. No, we don't always do it right, and yes, we must ensure that critical debate and analysis continues and that we do not meekly accept "whatever is going" in some facile gesture to "pluralism" or "multiculturalism" or even "tolerance"; neither must we turn a blind eye to the cruelties and inhumanities practiced in the name of culture, or religion (our own included) out of some misguided notion of respect. But that is a completely different thing from asserting that Western pluralist culture is suffering from some fatal malaise that Dawkins and co will help knock us out of.

In this respect, I would make two observations. 1) If we are being assailed by ennui at present, it is one that exists within faith generally and Christianity particularly. That is why the fundamentalists on the one hand, and the anti-theists on the other, are so attractive to so many: because they appear muscular, robust, alive, and this is interpreted as synonymous with intellectual or moral integrity. 2) The solution to the problem of fundamentalist monopolisation of faith, and the anti-theist critique, lies with ourselves, not in any suggestion of Western cultural malaise. We need to get our own house in order, because the fight is not between faith and a relativistic society, or between faith and anti-theist criticism: the fight is between faith as freedom, diversity, and vigour and faith as uniform, monochrome, authoritarianism.

Thanks again for this article.

Talk to you soon,

BB.

Quote for the Day: A fanatic is a man who does what he thinks the Lord would do if He knew the facts of the case. (Finley Peter Dunne)

A Word About The Word

Last night, my Dearly Beloved and I had the very good fortune of attending a presentation by John Bell, a minister in the Church of Scotland and noted composer of hymns, who is also a member of the Iona Community.

The subject of the presentation was how we read the Bible, and how that reading affects the way we relate to and understand the Bible as the Word of God. He made the important point that the content of the Bible was originally composed by a predominantly oral-transmission society; that is, a society that was largely illiterate (from the standpoint of modern society) but which composed and transmitted stories across generations through a process of memorisation and embellishment and story-telling. The importance of this insight is that it points to the fact that the Bible is, for Christians, part of our lived history - but is too often approached from a literary (reading) perspective instead of from an oral / lived tradition perspective.

To further illustrate this point, Bell spoke about the traditions of sacred story-telling and poetry and hymn-making from the Celtic-speaking communities of the UK and Ireland, which were only written down and compiled in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Many of these poems and songs and stories are hundreds of years old; some, indeed, in one form or another, over a thousand years old. And yet they have been retained and transmitted across generations by the societies in which they were retained; partly as an aspect of those societies' cultural identity; but also as a vibrant and ongoing manifestation of the life of those communities.

But what needs to be particularly remembered is that these poems and songs and stories are part of these communities' understanding of, and engagement with, the text of the Bible - as this text was transmitted orally to those communities via the media of pictorial representation or dramatic presentation. By way of example, Bell read a poem from Ireland in which a woman talks about her desire to entertain Jesus and Mary and the apostles, and describes heaven as a lake of beer from which they might refresh themselves for all eternity. In a telling phrase, Bell described poems like this as "the argument between the common people and the text" - the word "argument" being used in its original sense as a conversation or dialogue. In other words, the text of the Bible wasn't simply a "dead weight" to be passively received; it was a living expression of faith which in turn prompted and inspired their own interpretation, their own understanding of and response to the Word of God.

However, one of the outcomes of the Reformation, and the invention of printing in the wake of the Renaissance, was that the Word of God ceased being a Word that was transmitted and served as a point of discussion and expression; instead, it became a matter of "black and white", a text which existed in an unchanging - or, perhaps more accurately, in a solid - form that could only be read, not listened to. And in this regard, Bell made some important points about the assumptions among Christians that this has lead to:

• That understanding the Bible is an intellectual exercise. The point being that this assumption mistakenly believes that the intellect is the only vehicle through which the Word of God can be - or must be - understood. But as the poem from the Irish woman who depicted heaven in terms of hospitality and a lake of beer that lasted for eternity demonstrates, she was responding at a far more visceral and human level - a level that involved all her senses as well as her intellect. She was giving expression to her yearning to see Jesus and Mary and the apostles, and to incorporate the experience of knowing them into her life through the cultural and communal expressions of hospitality and the pleasure of food and drink. It is altogether beautiful and moving and deeply, intensely human.
• That we should be able to understand or "work out" the Word of God. Many Christians have a highly attuned sense of the transcendence of God, of the ineffability and mystery that is God viewed from the human perspective. And yet, when it comes to the Bible, especially if we approach it as a "text", we have this assumption that we should be able to work it out and understand it completely in all of its parts. In other words, while God is ineffable, a mystery, God's Word isn't! But of course this is absurd; partly because the humans who composed the Bible were themselves attempting to respond to, and make sense of, the mystery of God; and partly because, if "understanding" is the only point of the Bible, then it is in fact pointless. In other words, the point of the Bible is not "enlightenment" but response; it's not about "getting it", it's about how we find meaning, and how we incorporate that meaning into our lives so that God's Word becomes a lived experience.
• That people should take their Bibles to church and follow the reading instead of listening to it being spoken. Of course, Bell recognised that there were perfectly good reasons why someone might take a Bible to church and follow the reading; for example, those who were hard of hearing. But the point he was making was that, in assuming that we should "read along", we are in fact missing out on a crucial means by which the Word of God becomes a lived experience. Because the oral tradition was not simply about conveying a story; it was concerned with conveying meaning through speech, transmitting to the audience elements and ingredients of understanding and potential for response through the way the speaker delivers the text to the hearers. Cadence and inflection and all the modes and mannerisms of speech affect the outcome, affect how people will receive information and respond. But that is the very point of the oral tradition; and it is the very reason why we should listen to the Word of God, instead of merely "reading along".

In detailing these assumptions, Bell was making the point that although it is frequently pointed out to us that the Bible consists of many different literary forms, we are rarely - if ever - taught how to read those forms in a manner suited to them. More critically, we are not taught how to speak those forms or listen to those forms in a fashion that gives attention to their literary construction. Indeed, we tend to approach the Bible as though it were a homogeneous document written by the same person; as a result of which, we pass through the various literary forms in the Bible without changing our "perspective as reader". We read the poems as though they were prose; we read the historical chronicles as though they were fiction; we read the prophetic literature as though they were text books. The result is people who tend to read Scripture in one of two extremes: either in a dull monotone; or as though it were a production from an amateur dramatics society.

Bell's point is simple and important: different kinds of literature require different kinds of attention. They need to be approached in different ways and conveyed in different moods and voices. In order for the Word of God to be part of our lived experience, we must appreciate the textual diversity and richness of the Bible; we must listen to the different literary forms with a different ear; we must ditch our assumptions about the Bible and how we must approach it as God's Word; and we must view the text not as a "text" carved in stone, but as one half of an engagement - one half of an argument, a conversation, a dialogue in which both we and God are active participants, and in which we formulate and work through and live out our own response and understanding.

Talk to you soon,

BB.

Quote for the Day: The Bible is literature, not dogma. (George Santayana)

One of the Boys

I have just finished watching Bastard Boys, the Australian Broadcasting Corporation's two-part mini-drama about the "docks dispute" in 1998.

I won't talk about the show itself: it has attracted enough superlatives, all of them richly deserved. Nor will I talk about the politics of the dispute, or the right or wrongs of the issues by which it was underlined: plenty of commentators more qualified than I have already undertaken this task.

What I want to talk about are my memories of that dispute - because I was there, on Swanson Dock, on the picket line. Not as one of the wharfies; but as a white collar union official, and as a citizen supporting the Maritime Union of Australia.

Bastard Boys understandably concentrates on the "headline" features of the dispute: the experiences of the MUA and its members, the motivations behind the actions taken by their employer, Patrick Stevedores, the involvement of the Howard Government in precipitating the dispute, and the courtroom machinations that eventually decided the dispute's outcome. But what went unremarked at the time and afterwards is how soon the dispute ceased being an industrial confrontation and became a community protest.

Many people felt that the involvement of the Federal Government in this dispute, and the measures utilised by the employer, represented both an assault on citizens' rights to be members of a union and not suffer prejudice in their employment, and a violation of the much-vaunted Australian "value" of a "fair go". And this was a feeling that crossed the divides of socio-economic standing, political opinion, or industrial attitude. I met many people on the docks who didn't like unions, who were politically conservative, and who believed industrial relations in Australia needed to be reformed. But they were nonetheless participating in the picket because they objected to what they regarded as the illegitimate measures utilised by the Government and Patrick. Which didn't mean they regarded the MUA and its members as benighted martyrs or innocent angels; rather, that the mechanics of Australian society had to operate on a higher plane than mere industrial flexibility or economic advantage.

I don't think either Patrick or the Howard Government expected the public to react in this way. Indeed, I suspect they thought they would be able to rely on the stereotype of portraying the MUA and its members as a small cabal of corrupt, blue-collar thugs in order to win the public-relations war. However, by being too clever by half - and by engaging in behaviour that could be shown, prima facie, to amount to a conspiracy to subvert the law - Patrick and the Government surrendered the high moral ground.

Sadly, the MUA's success in using the law against the government resulted in the union movement being hoisted on its own petard. Having gained control of both houses of Parliament at the last Federal election, the Howard Government promptly passed the so-called "Workchoices" legislation that spelled out in tortuous detail the prohibitions and limitations on union activity. In other words, the Government weren't going to take any chances of their own legislation being used against them; freedom of association was going to mean the right to not belong to a union - or the right to belong to a union that could do bugger all to help you.

But I digress. As I say, the dispute quickly turned into a community protest. And it was amazing to see the variety of people down at the docks during the long, cold nights of the dispute. Elderly men in business suits; suburban housewives; professional people; tradespeople; young folks from the city fringe; old folks from the leafy inner suburbs. There were musicians and entertainers, food vendors and first-aid workers. A barrier of twisted iron railings dubbed the "community art project". Cut down steel drums to serve as braziers, and chairs, sofas, and improvised seating for all to share.

And the atmosphere was remarkably relaxed. A general air of bonhomie prevailed; there was no drugs, no drinking, no violence; a truce been the police and the protesters had been agreed and kept by both sides. After the initial drama and anger of the lockout, the prevailing mood was of good-natured, though always defiant, resistance.

For myself, I remember two things: how cold it was at night, and how constantly exhausted I felt. The union I worked for at the time somehow managed to draw the midnight to 6am shift on the pickets; we divided into two shifts of three hours each, but that still meant getting up at hellishly early hours to be on the docks, and then having to go to work during the day. I lived at Ocean Grove at the time, down on the Bellarine Peninsular, an hour's drive out of Melbourne. I think I lived on Jolt Cola and Mars Bars, hoping the caffeine and guarana and yerba mate would keep me awake! And I don't think there wasn't a shift when it wasn't bitterly cold, and it didn't matter how close to the braziers you stood, you could never get warm enough.

Well, it was a long time ago now. The political and economic and social and financial and industrial and legal consequences of that dispute have played, and are still playing, themselves out. I only know this: that however tangentially, I was on the side of the boys, I was one of the boys. And I was proud to be so.

Talk to you soon,

BB.

Quote for the Day: It is always a minority who occupy the front line. (Major-General Orde Wingate)

Original Sin

This semester, one of the subjects I've been studying is Introduction to Biblical Text. This has been a fascinating subject on many levels, not least because it has introduced me to the depths and relevance of the pre-exilic prophets (Jeremiah, Hosea, Amos, etc). However, it has also opened my eyes to some of the intricacies and mysteries of the Book of Genesis, especially concerning creation, original sin, and the story of the Flood.

Speaking of original sin, this subject has helped me to see that a close reading of the text reveals a fascinating fact: that when Eve is tempted by the serpent in the Garden of Eden to eat from the fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, she actually argues with the serpent, and then makes a decision to eat the fruit based on rational criteria: its pleasing appearance, the fact that it would be good to eat, etc. By contrast, when she offers the fruit to Adam, he simply takes it and eats, without either argument or assessment.

Now this is significant, because this passage in Genesis has frequently been utilised to oppress and suppress women, to view them as the source of evil or the originators of original sin. In other words, to treat women as sub-human. The implication in all this is that it was a woman who was weak and fallen, and who was responsible not just for original sin but for all the evils of which humans are capable; by extension, therefore, women are "more fallen" then men and are "more at fault" for the horrors and hardships of the world. Thus, when a man commits some evil - especially if it involves some sexually motivated evil - a woman usually ends up getting the blame, even if only by implication or through the assumptions that undergird our unspoken prejudices.

But examination of this passage in Genesis demonstrates that this attitude is not simply unfair, it's downright wrong. The argument that a woman was responsible for bringing original sin into the world is, in essence, just an excuse to let men "off the hook". Eve argues with the serpent, then makes her own decision; Adam just does what he is told. Thus, it is Eve who displays independence of thought and strength of mind and character, and Adam who is weak and compliant. Eve is guilty, perhaps, of poor judgement; Adam is guilty of moral cowardice.

And let's face it, guys: we've been disguising and warping and covering up the fact for most of human history.

So I was delighted with the following cartoon from one of my favourite cartoonists, Wiley. I really do think it sums up the situation perfectly; note especially Eve's reaction in the cartoon. Click on the cartoon to get an enlarged image.

Talk to you soon,

BB.

Quote for the Day: Original sin: the only original thing about some men. (Helen Rowland)