Minds, Brains, Souls, and Gods: A Conversation of Faith, Psychology and Neuroscience – Part 3, Chapter 3: How Free Am I?

Minds, Brains, Souls, and Gods: A Conversation of Faith, Psychology and Neuroscience – Part 3, Chapter 3: How Free Am I?

We continue the series on the book, Minds, Brains, Souls and Gods: A Conversation on Faith, Psychology and Neuroscience.

Today Part 3, Chapter 3: How Free Am I?

Malcolm’s student raises the question; since the brain is a physical system made up of atoms and molecules, how can there be any room for the top-down processes you have described that enable us to make choices and decisions?  Malcolm begins by discussing how this is a problem for the legal system.

  • The Royal Society in London convened a forum in 2011 with neuroscientists and lawyers to discuss neuroscience and the law.
  • The Chicago-based MacArthur Foundation has invested several millions of dollars to fund research in this area.
  • In 2009 in Italy a women was convicted of murder and her legal defense neuroscientist demonstrated that she had structural brain anomalies and a geneticist demonstrated she had genes (the MAOA so-called warrior gene) predisposing her to violence. The judge reduced her sentence from life to 20 years.

Malcolm notes it is a genuine issue.  It is well documented that people with brain tumors have seemed to lost control over their actions and lie, damage property, even in extreme rare cases commit murder.  The individuals simply lose the ability to control impulses or anticipate the consequences of choices.  Whereas, prior to the tumor they did not have those problems.

The solutions proposed to justify our conviction that we have free will fall into two groups:

  1. The “compatibilists” who argue that determinism is compatible with free will.
  2. The “libertarians” who argue that free will requires a fundamental indeterminism in nature, and in particular in the way the brain functions. In order to justify the required indeterminism, most of those who invoke the libertarian view depend heavily on what in physics is called the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle.

He notes that for the Christian is the further question of how each of these approaches relates to what the Bible teaches about our responsibilities to choose wisely.  How many sermons have you heard on “Choose you this day whom you will serve…” or “If anyone is willing… then…”  Can we really choose?

He then give a synopsis of the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle for his student and notes that most scientists argue that the Heisenberg effects are much too small to affect even the most sensitive physical changes in the brain, such as the concentration of synaptic calcium.  Most of those who attempt to free the brain from determinism using the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle have yet to convince fellow scientists, who are aware of the smallness of the uncertainty involved, of the cogency of their case.  I would tend to agree with the critics here.

Malcolm then points out there is increasing evidence that leads us to believe that systems made up of elements obeying the laws of physics nevertheless embody forms of causation that seem to transcend the determinism of the atomic, physical and chemical laws.  The two concepts that we come across most often in these discussions are emergence and a more sophisticated version of what he called “top-down effects”, which is actually top-down causation.  If you put these things together, a scientifically plausible picture emerges of one possible way in which mental processes and moral agencies can remain the real causes of behavior even though embodied with a physical/biological system.  He says:

The concept of emergence helps to describe how complex entities like biological organisms can have properties that do not exist within the elements, such as molecules, that make up the organism.  Even simple organisms like an amoeba, which is a complex organization of molecules, manifest properties that don’t exist in the molecules themselves. The behavior of the amoeba depends upon the current state of the organization of the molecules, not the molecules themselves.  In this sense the activity of the amoeba is an example of an emergent property.

The Lorenz attractor is an example of a non-linear dynamical system. Studying this system helped give rise to chaos theory.

In the scientific literature another term for emergence is dynamical systems theory.  Application of this theory helps explain how new causal properties, such as the behavior of humans can emerge in complex systems characterized by a high level of nonlinear interactions between their elements.  A perfect example of this is the human cerebral cortex.  The millions of neurons and their millions of interconnections form an ideal dynamical system.  From this point of view, the elements of human neurobiology in the form of the cerebral cortex produce the cognitive properties of a whole person.

These higher level emergent properties are similar to what Jeeves said about top-down effects.  Looked at in this way, thinking, believing, and remembering can be seen as represented by shifting patterns in the dynamical neural system, and these patterns create top-down influences on the lower-level neuropsychological phenomena that are the substrate of, and that support, the mental activities themselves.

What this amounts to is that the description of the mind-brain in terms of its physical properties is compatible with a description of the same system in terms of mental concepts like thinking, believing, and remembering.  Both levels of description are necessary to give a full account of the whole unbelievably complex system.

Well, as I finish typing these words, I hear the faint drumbeat of the determinists, the reductionists, and the empiricists as they mass their tribes for the attack.  Fine.  Bring it.  I chose this book (see what I did there) knowing that it would be a great controversial conversation generator, and on issues that are important for a faith-science dialogue.  But know this; without these higher-level mental conceptual tools, we cannot even talk about and debate these issues, and in this sense, any attempt to reduce them to the chattering of interacting neurons at once empties them of all logic and meaning.  That argument is self-contradictory and therefore self-defeating.

 

Dana Ames- she’s up to the challenge too!!

 

Mike “Cool-Hand” Mercer will back me up

 

Charles Fines, a little unconventional, but still has my back…

 

Robert F and Adam Tauno Williams, I mean if you’re going to have a brain-fight, who better?

 

And, only if absolutely necessary, in extreme situations…

Daniel “Apocalypse Now” Jepsen !!!!!!!

Another Look: Wisdom and the Fog

Note from CM: I have an extraordinarily busy week since I’m covering for our other chaplain’s caseload as well as my own. So, on Mon-Wed I’m re-posting some of my favorite stories and reflections from my work as a hospice chaplain. If I don’t get to clear comments that get held right away, please be patient. I’ll do my best.

• • •

Many plans are in a man’s heart,
But the counsel of the Lord will stand.
What is desirable in a man is his kindness…

• Proverbs 19:21-22, NASB

• • •

I stand on top of a rise in the road. Before me, a valley stretches, still shrouded in fog. Behind me, the sun has burned its way clear and I can see the ways I’ve come. I can make out a few of the sharper turns, various forks and crossroads where I chose this way or that for one reason or another, spots along the way where the road disappeared into a dark wood, then emerged on scenery wholly new. Well past halfway on my journey, I’ve forgotten more than I remember, and some of what I recall I don’t trust. In some ways I’m more sure of my path, in other ways I’ve never been less able to plot my course.

This week I will officiate the funeral of an old friend. Several years ago, our families attended the same church and we were part of the same social small group. We spent New Year’s Eves together, played cards, laughed a lot, and talked about our families and work. A simple guy, he didn’t talk much, and wasn’t much of churchgoer. We weren’t close, but I was there as a pastor and friend at some important times, and he always seemed genuinely happy to have us in his home. About my age, now he’s gone. Over the years, we’ve only seen each other rarely, and he and the family have had their struggles: finances, house problems, mental illness in the family. Last I heard he and his wife were getting divorced, he had a girlfriend, and it wasn’t pretty. Complications from a chronic health condition took his life suddenly and unexpectedly last week.

And I get to speak words of “wisdom” to comfort his family and friends at the funeral.

Which is a funny thing, because at this point in the journey, I’m not sure I know what wisdom is. I have some hindsight, for sure, and plenty of experience. Maybe that qualifies. I have a deeper trust in the sovereignty of God than ever before, but it is not the kind of trust that can be expressed in “answers.” The thought of God’s sovereignty is like the fog in the valley ahead of me — a mystery that envelops the world but obscures my view. To think that I would appeal to such a concept as comfort for myself or others seems kind of crazy, to tell the truth. People don’t generally expect the guy down in the mail room to be able to delineate the intricate decisions of the CEO. About all I can say is, “I have no idea how to explain it, but I guess he knows what he’s doing.”

Recently we saw another couple who had been members of a congregation where I served on staff in the past. We haven’t really talked for about ten years. They’ve been to three different churches since then. Their son now tours with a punk band and they didn’t seem interested in going into details. They did want to discuss how the husband is making plans for retirement, and since they have been very diligent about money matters, it looks like they’ll move to the Rockies and live the dream. They seemed reasonably happy, but you never know.

On one level, I’m not a big fan of the book of Proverbs. Read in certain ways, it cannot help but promote self-righteousness. Dividing the world into “wise people” and “fools” leaves little room for nuance. Pharisees love it because it organizes life neatly into divinely demarcated divisions and makes the rules and rewards clear. It is elder brother theology par excellence. It scoffs when the silly, sentimental old man loses his mind and runs out to welcome home the wastrel.

A guy with whom I used to coach Little League told me the other day his son and girlfriend and new baby are moving into their house for awhile. It will be a crowded situation with many opportunities for irritation, conflict, and hurt feelings. Been there, done that. I know they didn’t expect this, and I’m sure they are wondering where this will all lead. They have a good spirit about it (or at least they put on a good face about it), and I hope to spend more time with them in days to come. They are some of my favorite people in the world, and I’d love to be a friend and an encouragement if possible.

In the end, I guess that’s what I will say at my friend’s funeral. The world is broken, and I don’t have a lot of wisdom to offer. I won’t pretend to tell you what God is doing. But I know that love is real. I’m here to be your friend today, and I want to encourage you to be friends to each other. That’s how Jesus showed his love to us — by befriending us and laying down his life for us. We’re here to do the same for one another.

It’s foggy ahead, and the way is not clear.

Take a hand and enter the fog together.

Don’t let go.

Another Look: Breakfast

Note from CM: I have an extraordinarily busy week since I’m covering for our other chaplain’s caseload as well as my own. So, on Mon-Wed I’m re-posting some of my favorite stories and reflections from my work as a hospice chaplain. If I don’t get to clear comments that get held right away, please be patient. I’ll do my best.

• • •

Breakfast. Photo by Emily Maiden

He sits across the table from me as we enjoy our biscuits and gravy. A good ol’ boy, a true Hoosier. He had been a pretty good baseball player when he first met her. But he was rough around the edges and she thought him uncouth. He didn’t know how to eat properly, she said. Still somehow, they fell in love, and she took him in and converted him into a presentable-enough gentleman.

Not that he ever became a white collar guy. He worked for a trucking company his whole life. He tells me he learned a cuss word or three on the job. Now that she is gone, he’s been talking to her and the Lord about that, to see if he could get some help cleaning up his language. A few other things needed forgiving too, though he doesn’t tell me what. He does make a point to say that this time, he wants to say grace before we eat (last time, we got to talking and forgot).

She had been the picture of dignity. Always took care of herself and looked good. She was what they used to call a real “lady.” Talented too. Worked in an executive’s office and kept it running. Played the organ in church and had fine taste in music. Made sure the two of them worked hard and kept a spotless home, a well-groomed lawn and gardens.

But with all her natural strength and grace, she was never snobbish. She too was an Midwest girl, rooted and grounded in the common sense soil of the heartland. She married a ballplayer, a blue-collar guy, linked her life to his and they became inseparable partners. He loved classic cars and they traveled all around the country putting on car shows and hanging out with gearheads. She became an avid sports fan and cheered as loudly and fanatically as he did when they went to games their teams were playing. They traveled around together and camped with the family and went to the casinos and enjoyed a life as regular and down-to-earth as could be.

He and I are having breakfast because now she’s gone. He finds it hard to eat at home without her. After nearly sixty years of sharing every day together, he’s experiencing “alone” for the first time.

“What do you have going today?” I ask him.

He laughs. “Just you,” he says.

So we eat our biscuits and gravy, drink our coffee, and talk about whether the Hoosiers are going to have a good basketball season this year. I console him about the Dodgers, his favorite baseball team, losing in the playoffs. Our banter is mostly sports talk, but I also ask after his children, their families, and he shares bits and pieces of the dramas that are taking place in their lives. They live in other states, but call him every day. He tells me about going to the doctor and other errands he’s been running. A story or two from the past sneaks out every now and again.

At various points in our conversation, things get quiet, and when they do he always comes back to her.

“You know, I talk to her. Every day. That’s not crazy, is it?”

“I’m spending a lot of time working out in the yard. The house is too quiet without her there.”

“I used to cook for her when she worked, and I got pretty good. So I cooked for her when she got sick, but you know, the last while there she just couldn’t eat. I couldn’t either. I’ve lost 30 pounds you know.”

Breakfast in America. Photo by pixishared

He mentions the funeral service at least a half dozen times. I officiated it, and he can’t say “thank you” enough. He talks about how after they went to make arrangements the first time, she changed her mind and said she didn’t like the casket they picked out. But then she got too sick to go back, so the kids eventually picked out one they knew she’d like, and damn the cost. He tells me about people he wished could have been there at the service, but he remembers the flowers they sent, the cards they wrote, the phone calls they made. It’s clear that day made a real impression on him. It’s etched on his mind like some farewell scene in a movie. He’s been out to the grave a few times, but he doesn’t say much about it.

Somehow, we clear our plates and it’s time to go, me to my work, him to . . . what? I don’t know, and he may not either. The server brings our check and we fight over who’s going to pay, but he grabs it.

“You don’t have to do this with me if you’re too busy,” he says.

“No, I enjoy it. I’ll call you next week,” I reply.

“That would be great. You know, breakfast, lunch, a cup of coffee. I’m free now for most anything.”

“You know I’m praying for you, right?”

“Yeah, I need that.”

“And keep talking to her, okay? She’s not far away.”

“Okay. Thanks. Call me next week?”

“Call you next week.”

• • •

Photo 1 by Emily Maiden at Flickr. Creative Commons License

Photo 2 by pixishared at Flickr. Creative Commons License

Another Look: Mark

Note from CM: I have an extraordinarily busy week ahead of me since I’m covering for our other chaplain’s caseload as well as my own. So, on Mon-Wed I will re-post some of my favorite stories from my work as a hospice chaplain. If I don’t get to clear comments that get held right away, please be patient. I’ll do my best.

• • •

The Garden of St. Paul Hospital, van Gogh

Listen, my beloved brothers and sisters. Has not God chosen the poor in the world to be rich in faith and to be heirs of the kingdom that he has promised to those who love him?

• James 2:5, NRSV

• • •

We stood and sat on a quiet green spot at the cemetery under sunny blue skies filled with white billowing clouds. Besides the funeral home staff, there were fewer than ten of us, and not one was related to the deceased. Mark had no family left in this world, not since his sister died seven years ago. Despite his own handicaps and limitations he had cared for her in the final season of her life. When she died, he took it so hard he ended up in jail.

That’s where he met Dewey. Today, Dewey was sitting in front of me and he was the first to volunteer to speak when I asked for us all to share our memories and thoughts about Mark. He walked up, stood behind the blue metal casket, put a hand on it, and said, “I…I guess I should start. I knew him longest. We met in jail after his sister died. Wasn’t long after that we got out and became roommates. And yeah, we had our ups and downs. Mark, he liked things just so, you know. I was a little more…I don’t know, free, you know? We went through a lot together, Mark and me. I’m gonna miss him.” We were all impressed with Dewey’s initiative and eloquence.

Mark was schizophrenic with mood disorders and had a history of other problems I didn’t fully grasp. When I first visited him with a couple of my hospice teammates he sat on the couch, his stuffed monkey in the corner on a pillow, and he rocked back and forth as he talked. Sometimes, I was told, he insisted you call him by another name — I forget now what it was — that represented an alternative identity. When he was that person, he tended to be more volatile and unreceptive. I never met this other Mark, however. I only knew the soft-spoken, obsessive Mark who repeated his words over and over again and tried to help you understand him.

On that first visit, I came to suspect that he had been hurt by religion or churches, ministers or church people somewhere along the line. When he heard I was the chaplain, he launched into a long stream of consciousness explanation about why he could never take communion because he didn’t believe in eating people and no one was ever going to force him to do that. Not wanting to upset him, I just let him ramble, though every once in a while he left an opening where I could say, “Mark, I’m only here to be your friend. I’ve come to support you and won’t ask you to do anything you don’t want to do.” I could well imagine the impression Mark might have made in a church setting, and how it would have been hard for a minister or church folks to know how to talk to him. It was hard for me, at least on the first visit. So I played it low key, listened a lot, and whenever I spoke I tried to find some words of reassurance and support. It seemed to go pretty well.

Mark was under the care of a team of social workers and counselors from our network’s mental health office near his apartment. With their help, over the course of ten years, Mark had gotten to the point where he could live alone and function with some independence in the community. They visited daily to make sure he took his medications and help him with any problems he encountered. They had been working with Mark in two different locations for over ten years, saw him through the crisis when his sister died, and assisted and supported him through many other challenges. We met with his team when Mark first came on hospice and became partners in providing care for him now that he had developed stage four lung cancer that had metastasized to his brain. As nature is wont to do sometimes, cancer added insult to injury by raising a swollen mass behind his eye that caused it to bulge out, affecting his appearance. Mark was sensitive about that, and even went out on his own and bought an eye patch to cover it up.

It was this small group of people who gathered in front of Mark’s casket under blue skies: the only “family” he had, a friend he met in jail, a couple of us from hospice, and a half dozen case workers who had diligently cared for Mark for many years. I had been asked to lead the service, and as we sat and stood there together, I thought it important to give everyone a chance to share their thoughts, memories, and feelings. Each one tearfully and eloquently did, and what was said reflected the gifts Mark had given to each one as they had worked with him. They spoke of his big heart, his generous manner, his habit of always thanking others for their help and expressing his appreciation. I praised them all for doing God’s work, for giving dignity to someone most people in the world would ignore, for recognizing his value, for giving of themselves to someone who otherwise may have lived and died alone.

 

Trees in the Garden at St. Paul Hospital, van Gogh

And I remembered Jesus’ words, about how he came to bring God’s blessing to the unfortunate, the “losers” (as the world categorizes them):

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.
Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for justice, for they shall be satisfied.

Then I recalled that Jesus also commended those who follow him by bringing aid and comfort to those unfortunate ones, whose work is often scoffed at, even opposed by those who do more “important” things in the world:

Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.
Blessed are those who have been persecuted for the sake of justice, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

When Jesus said these words, he was going against everything the world stood for — even the religious world. Most people assume that the ones who are truly “blest” in this world are the rich, the comfortable, the well-adjusted, the healthy, the happy people, the people who make a lot of money or gain a lot of power and prestige. We tend to think that God’s favor is for the winners, not the losers.

But Jesus said just the opposite. He said he came to lift up the lowly, to reach out to those the rest of us avoid, to give priority to powerless, mistreated, hurting people. He came to seek out the lost, hidden, overlooked folks. The people on the margins. The difficult cases. The intractable problem people. The poor, the oppressed, those who are physically, mentally and emotionally frail. Those whom society calls the losers.

People like Mark.

When we care for people like Mark and get involved in their lives, we realize that the world’s categorization of “winners” and “losers” amounts to a pile of horse manure. Every single one of those people present before Mark’s casket that day testified of his dignity, his value, his worth, and what they gained from working with him. Every person mourned that day because a beautiful life had left the world. It matters not one whit that this life had been wrapped in a troubling disguise. Yes, it took long work and faithful attention for some of us to uncover and appreciate the beauty, but it was there all the time awaiting discovery.

If you read the stories about Jesus, you see that he interacted with these kinds of people all the time, treated them as important and delighted in giving attention to them. Those in power and leadership didn’t like it very much because they thought that Israel’s Messiah should first come to bless the leaders and make them stronger and more prosperous and capable of overcoming their enemies. But that’s not where Jesus placed his priorities. And they were offended.

Even today, it is sad that the world doesn’t usually honor people with those kind of priorities. I remarked to that group of folks who worked with Mark that I didn’t have to tell them that. All we need to do is look at our paychecks and contrast what they pay people in other kinds of jobs to see what the world values and rewards.

But a lot of those better paid people will never know what it means to receive gifts from folks like Mark.

The last time I saw Mark awake and alert, he had been admitted to a nursing home because he couldn’t live alone any longer due to the progression of his disease. A few of us went to see him and found that he was now mumbling his words to such an extent that they were indecipherable. Still, he tried to communicate, and we in turn tried to reassure him. I took a moment just before I left to kneel down in front of him as he sat on his bed. “Mark, we’re here for you and I’ll check on you again soon, OK? I want you to know we’re praying for you. See you later.” Once again, knowing that the topic of religion could set him off, I tried to keep a light touch.

I arose and started to walk out the door, and when I did I perceived some movement out of the corner of my eye. I looked back at Mark and he was sitting there with his hand outstretched, reaching out to shake mine. A wave of profound joy overwhelmed me at that moment. I took his hand and when I let go, I walked away holding a gift that no one can ever take away from me.

Easter VI: Pic & Cantata of the Week

Sun Kissed Shore 2016

(Click on picture for larger image)

• • •

One of Bach’s cantatas for Easter VI is the delightful “Wahrlich, wahrlich, ich sage much” (BWV 84), based on the Gospel for the day in the composer’s time: John 16:23-30.

Two pieces from this work describe a wonderful conversational relationship between the believer and God in the Word and prayer. God promises, and we affirm our trust in his goodness and faithfulness.

The opening bass aria provides a wonderful melodic setting for Jesus’ promise: “Truly, truly, I say to you, whatever you ask the Father in my name will be given to you” (16:23).

In the fifth movement, the tenor aria responds to Jesus’ promise with a bright, positive affirmation of trust: “God’s help is certain!”

God’s help is certain;
if for the moment his help is postponed,
it is not therefore cancelled.
For God’s word makes this clear:
God’s help is certain!

Text by Anonymous

The IM Saturday Brunch – May 20, 2017

THE INTERNET MONK SATURDAY BRUNCH

”It is talk-compelling. It puts you in a good temper, it makes you satisfied with yourself and your fellow beings, it sweeps away the worries and cobwebs of the week.”

Coffee Break. Photo by Davide D’Amico

• • •

UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE WEEK

“I think it would be helpful to have less drama emanating from the White House.”

• Sen. Mitch McConnell

Gee, ya think?

• • •

METHODIST, SS TEACHER, NIEBUHRIAN

RNS reports that FBI Director James Comey uses the name “Reinhold Niebuhr” on his private Twitter and Instagram accounts.

Comey, who grew up in a Catholic family, earned his college degree in chemistry and religious studies from William & Mary in 1982. He wrote his senior thesis about Niehbur, comparing his views of the role of the Christian in politics with that of Jerry Falwell.

Comey’s thesis treats Niebuhr’s writings as a kind of wisdom literature for Christian office seekers. “Every aspiring world leader,” he advised, should study “Niebuhr’s classic statement of the human condition.”

Reducing Niebuhr’s corpus to a simple “formula,” Comey declared: “The Christian is to seek justice. Politics holds the power necessary for the establishment of justice. Therefore the Christian must participate in the political process.” According to Comey, Niebuhr believed that “the Christian and politics are made for each other” — indeed, that the Christian is “the perfect political animal.”

“Politics holds the power necessary for the establishment of justice.”

We’ll see, James. We’ll see.

• • •

SOME ODD STORIES FROM THE WEEK

Vladimir Putin played hockey on his 64th birthday.

A Florida man died on his 89th birthday when he crashed his car into a fire hydrant and drowned.

A Pennsylvania woman made a dress from the wrappers of more than 10,000 Starburst candies given to her by her high school sweetheart-turned-husband.

Underwhelming local headlines…

• • •

WHERE THAT PLASTIC WATER BOTTLE ENDS UP

The Washington Post reports:

Henderson Island, an uninhabited atoll in the South Pacific, is so isolated that it’s one of the few places in the world “whose ecology has been practically untouched by a human presence.”

That is, at least, according to its description by a United Nations group, which named Henderson Island a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1988.

…In reality, the remote island has become the final resting place for an estimated 38 million pieces of garbage, according to researchers who arrived on its shores in 2015 and were stunned to find the atoll’s once-undisturbed white-sand beaches littered with trash. Nearly all of it was made of plastic.

Researchers believe that about 3,500 pieces of trash are continuing to wash up there daily, and that Henderson Island now has the highest density of plastic waste in the world, according to a report published Tuesday in the scientific journal Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences.

• • •

QUESTIONS OF THE WEEK

Will abortion be legalized in Ireland?

Women bloggers: blessing or crisis for the church?

What is the role and importance of doctrine for American Methodists?

How much caffeine is too much? and, in a related story, how many teenagers die around the world every day, and by what causes?

Scientists glued fake caterpillars on plants worldwide. Then what happened?

• • •

CONGRATULATIONS TO BOTH OLD & YOUNG

Congrats to Bryson William Verdun Hayes!

Verdun, as he is known, broke the record for the world’s oldest skydiver, when he joined two other family members in a tandem jump. Hayes was 101 years and 38 days old when they leapt.

Hayes is a D-Day veteran, and made the jump to raise money for the Royal British Legion.

Congrats to Carson Huey-You!

The 14 year-old became the youngest person ever to receive a bachelor’s degree at Texas Christian University.

According to this article in the Fort Worth Star-Telegram:

Huey-You ends his undergraduate chapter with a physics degree — chosen because he likes learning how things work and interact — and minors in math and Chinese.

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His advice to other 14-year-olds?

“Try to stay focused on what you are doing,” Huey-You said. “Even if it seems really, really challenging and hard to get through, stay with it.”

• • •

THE SALVATION OF SNUGGLES

According to NPR:

Volunteers at an overdose prevention site in Vancouver, Canada, say they saved the life of a rat named Snuggles after the little rodent overdosed on heroin.

The pet was brought into the center by a woman who said it had eaten heroin off a table. It had passed out and wasn’t breathing, so Melissa Patton gave it some Narcan orally. Then she gave it oxygen and watched it throughout the night, keeping it warm next to her neck and feeding it with a syringe.

The woman who brought in Snuggles is now seeking treatment, and Patton has agreed to take care of Snuggles.

• • •

50 YEARS AGO TODAY

On this day in 1967, The Beatles‘ new album Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band had a special preview on the Kenny Everett BBC Light program, ‘Where It’s At’, playing every track from the album, (except ‘A Day In The Life’ which the BBC had banned saying it could promote drug taking).

Many think it is the greatest album of all time. It certainly raised the concept of “the album” to a level never known or appreciated before.

Here is a short video about the making of Sgt. Pepper and then another with its concluding song, which many critics also consider the Beatles’ greatest song.

Happy Saturday!

• • •

Top Photo by Davide D’Amico at Flickr.

Fridays with Damaris: My Vegetable Love

DeCamp Organic Farm in the Garden. Photo by David Cornwell

My Vegetable Love
By Damaris Zehner

Although I’m sometimes reluctant to go out and work in the garden – I don’t want to get dirty, it’s hot and humid, there’s an overwhelming amount to do – I am always astonishingly happy when I do.  I begin by pulling weeds or hoeing with mechanical efficiency; soon I settle into a more meditative rhythm, no less efficient but hypnotic and easy.  Like a Shaker or a Sufi spinning into peace, I work my way down the rows and across the raised beds while my mind settles down and my body relaxes.  The smell and feel of dirt is so delightful that I pause and lay my hands on it and in it, hot from the sun or cool in the early morning.  Ants and worms work their way through the brown mountains and valleys around my hands.  I sometimes disturb them, but they don’t seem to mind and soon return to their work.

That was not the case with the bumble bees whose nest I forked up last spring.  At first the nest looked like a clot of dead leaves and grass, but it emitted an ominous humming.  My feline assistant and I bent over the clot; I noticed that it seemed to be held together by some kind of silk.  The cat prodded it lightly with his paw, and the humming swelled.  A big bumble bee burst out and flew up toward the cat.  Five or six others followed, some large, some small, but all intent on defending themselves.  The cat and I decided that it was about lunchtime and trotted with desperate dignity back to the house, twitching and flailing as we went, until the bees gave up and returned to the garden.  I didn’t finish that bed for several days.

Once the beds and rows are planted, I sit in the dirt and weed.  Although I could never tell you in February what parsley, basil, or marigold seedlings look like, I recognize them as soon as they’re up, old friends reminding me of how close we used to be.  Sometimes only weeds come up for days and days, and I get worried.  What’s happened?  Will my seedlings ever arrive?  Have I done something to discourage them?  When enough rain falls and sun shines and they finally do, I feel disproportionate relief.  I confess I talk to them, especially to apologize to them for the cat’s unconventional gardening methods.  There usually comes a point when his contribution is not as helpful as he thinks it is.  If he’ll sit across my shoulders, he can stay; otherwise, I take him inside and let him relax on the sofa until I’m done.

Every change that I observe as the season advances gets reported at dinner.  “There are three flowers on the biggest tomato plant,” or “The gooseberries are just about ripe.”  Mealtimes are probably tedious for the non-gardeners because I always report what food is ours.  “These are still last year’s potatoes and onions, the herbs are the ones I dried last summer although the chives and sage are fresh, and all the salad greens are from our beds.”  It’s a mark of some pride when I’ve grown everything except the meat; even then, I buy it from a local butcher who got it from my neighbors.

Because I garden, our family’s prayer at dinner time seems always to be about rain and sun, soil fertility, and the time and ability to work.  These are the things I’m concerned about and grateful for.  I am aware of my reliance on my own land and the many acres worked by others that keep me alive.

Because I garden, I take my time cooking.  I have to pick, sort, clean, dry, peel, chop, husk, etc., everything I use.  I have to plan my meals to incorporate what’s growing now.  It takes time, but then I don’t have to shop as much.  And I can bore my family with the daily litany of where everything came from.

Because I garden, I have the deep aesthetic and practical delight of jars on my basement shelf.  Green, yellow, red, orange, purple – such beautiful colors.  They are worth the hours of sweat and sore feet involved in canning them.  Their rich hues hint at Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners, at winter meals that still taste of summer.

I don’t want to idealize.  In addition to the first of the jars I’m now arranging on the basement shelves, I have a creepy forest of foot-high sprouts taking over a dark corner where the last of the potatoes were neglected.  I will go outside in a minute and have to be careful not to inhale gnats.  Sometimes I’ll breathe one in and cough in disgust for half an hour afterward.  I get frustrated when I have to squish potato bugs instead of doing the sorts of garden chores that Victorian ladies could perform in white dresses and extravagant hats.  Not every plant does well, and some do so well they get wasted.  The goats get out and eat the tops off the corn.  The dogs barrel through rows and beds with canine abandon, and the cats curl up on the crushed plants.  The weather doesn’t cooperate, nor do relatives, employers, and other people with demands on my time.  But as I sit in the dirt, smelling the thyme and tomatoes and basil, hearing the bumble bees in the oregano flowers, I am humbled and grateful to be a witness to the power of life.

• • •

Photo by David Cornwell at Flickr.

Minds, Brains, Souls, and Gods: A Conversation of Faith, Psychology and Neuroscience – Part 2, Chapter 2: What is the Relationship Between the Mind and the Brain?

Minds, Brains, Souls, and Gods: A Conversation of Faith, Psychology and Neuroscience – Part 2, Chapter 2: “What is the Relationship Between the Mind and the Brain?”

• • •

We continue the series on the book, Minds, Brains, Souls and Gods: A Conversation on Faith, Psychology and Neuroscience.  Today Part 2, Chapter 2: “What is the Relationship Between the Mind and the Brain?”

The question on the mind of Malcolm’s student is; are all mental experiences reduced to the activity of a brain circuit?  Jeeves quotes Professor John Stein, a leading Oxford neuroscientist from a 2011 article:

“Claims are being made about brain research that just aren’t true, and they are being accepted uncritically by the press, the public, policy makers, and even the courts…” and warning about the increasing dominance of reductionism: “…scientists are picking off the relatively easy tasks of working out how little bits of the brain work molecularly and hoping that knowing about these nuts and bolts will eventually tell us how the complex system works as a whole.”

He then recounts the excitement about developing techniques for imaging the brain.  Researchers are increasingly able to see which areas of the brain were most active when volunteers were doing all sorts of tasks such as looking at art, listening to music, showing maternal love, meditating and praying.  Some scientists suggested that the first decade of this century should be called, “The Decade of the Mind and Brain”.  The American Psychological Society set up a group in 2009 to discuss and write papers on where they saw the science of psychology going in the near future.  Certainly neuroscience has made great strides in new treatments for ADHD in children and Parkinson’s disease.

Ben (the typological student of Malcolm) then raises the question of the meaning of mind in different contexts.  His lecturers regularly use the term but don’t really define it, nor did his course textbook.  Then there are the Bible’s various uses of the term:

Romans 12:2 Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.   

Philippians 2:5 Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus…

1 Peter 3:8 Finally, be ye all of one mind, having compassion one of another, love as brethren, be pitiful, be courteous…

He notes that none of his lecturers seem to regard the mind as a separate entity; but rather as a shorthand for mental processes like thinking, remembering, perceiving, and so on.

Malcolm notes that for the Bible there is the issue of various translations and the meaning of the words in the original languages.  Again, he warns his student not to attempt to use the Bible as any sort of textbook of science.  In the modern neuroscience use of the word, he says, that mind is most often used as a shorthand for “the mental aspect of a psychobiological unity” while most scriptural contexts refer to an attitude or shared set of attitudes and beliefs.  I think that is a pretty fair summation.

Ben then asks the money question:

Does the accelerating pace of research in psychology and neuroscience mean that all our talk about mental processes will be reduced to talk about what is happening in the brain?  That seems to be a shared assumption among some of our lecturers, if only we could understand how our mental processes depend upon (and quite a lot of them seem to assume originate in and reduce to) to the specific workings of different parts of our brains.

For example, in my evolutionary psychology lectures we were told a lot about what is called “mind-reading behavior”—how in our social interaction with other people, we tend to try and read what our friends are thinking (“read their minds”).  It seems there is evidence of similar behavior in monkeys.  But we were told that this capacity for mind reading depends upon the functioning of a particular group of cells in the brain.

So my question is, how do think about the relation of the mind and the brain in a way that ultimately does not reduce the mind to the brain and reduce psychology to neuroscience and evolutionary biology?  And how have views about the relation of mind and brain changed over the centuries?

Plato vs. Aristotle

Malcolm then launches into a fascinating review of the history of mind-brain relations.  The philosopher Empedocles in the fifth century BC theorized that the soul, which was the Greek word for the mind, was to be found in the heart and the blood.  After all if you thought exciting thoughts your heart raced and your blood pumped; if you thought peaceful thoughts, your heart rate and blood pressure calmed down.  It was called the “cardiovascular theory”.  Around the same time Alemaenon of Croton claimed the mental functions are located in the brain; the “encephalic theory”, as did Hippocrates.  In the fourth century BC the conflict between the encephalic and cardiovascular theories was exemplified by Plato and Aristotle.  Plato seemed to want it both ways; he located the immortal soul in the brain but the passions in the heart.  Aristotle unambiguously localized the mind in the heart, but since the brain was moist to the touch he concluded it refrigerated the blood.

Aristotle’s views were adopted by many of the church fathers, Tertullian for example.  The encephalic view survived through Galen, one of Rome’s outstanding physicians.  By the time Galileo was bringing forth his new ideas, Vesalius was using the results of his careful dissection of the human body, including the brain (which had previously been forbidden on theological grounds) to bring empirical evidence to the table that raised questions about mind-body theories.  Vesalius dissected not just humans but apes, dogs, horses, sheep, and other animals and found they all had ventricles in the brain, not just humans.  That caused a major shake-up in the theory of the uniqueness of where the human soul or mind were located.  By Shakespeare’s time you have 3 competing theories that he refers to in his various plays.

The point of this historical digression, Malcolm says, is to remind us of the dangers of reading into the data beliefs that we bring from some other sphere of knowledge, such as Christian belief.  The temptation to read into the text of Scripture is always with us.

To get to the point of answering the money question, he notes that modern imaging and computer aided tomography has enabled researchers to map, in much greater detail, changes in mental processes to verified changes in the structure and activity of different parts of the brain.

He then brings up the now iconic understanding of the left-right cerebral cortex hemispheres; left brain specialized for language, logical thinking, mathematical and analytic processing; right brain specialized for emotional expression, intuitive thinking, facial and musical recognition, parallel processing and visual-spatial encoding.  In short the left is verbal, logical, rule bound; the right intuitive and creative. However, to complicate matters, he notes, recent research has also discovered a top-bottom division to cortical brain functions as well.  The bottom line is, contrary to popular mythologizing of the left-right brain divide, the brain is a very complex organized system that is well integrated in all its functions, and the two sides of the brain are intricately co-dependent.  Jeeves says:

I prefer to think about mind and brain as two aspects of one complex system.  In this sense, in complementary fashion, mental activity and behavior depend on the physically determinate operations of the brain, itself a physiochemical system.  When that system goes wrong or is disordered, there are changes in its capabilities for running the system that we describe as the mind or mental activity.  (In that sense the psychotherapist will also be alert to any possible identifiable brain changes that she ought to aware of).  Likewise, if the mind or the mental activity results in behavior of particular kinds, this in turn may result in temporary or chronic changes in the physiochemical makeup and activity of the brain, its physical substrate.  Thus this ever-tightening link does not minimize the importance of the mind or brain in this unitary complex system.

Malcolm then notes that the temptation to slip into unthinking reductionism is not only resisted by Christian thinkers but cites the atheist humanist neuroscientist Raymond Tallis who has highlighted the dangers of what he calls “biologism” in his book, Aping Mankind: Neuromania, Darwinitis, and the Misrepresentation of Humanity .  He calls those reductionists who believe our greatest human conceptual abilities can be reduced to neural firings in our brains- “neuromaniacs”.  He is equally critical of those who seek to minimize human differences from other animals by, on the one hand, anthropomorphizing animals, or, on the other hand, “animalizing” humans, in entirely unjustified ways.  This Tallis calls “Darwinitis”.   

Malcolm cites the study by Eleanor Maguire that London taxi drivers, by virtue of their disciplined training to understand the complex road system, over the course of their training altered the hippocampus in both size and shape from the matched controls.  In her more recent experiments, she asked volunteers to view three short films while they were lying inside an fMRI scanner.  A computer program then studied the patterns in the volunteer’s brains, and the researchers were asked to identify, if they could, which film the volunteer was recalling purely by looking at the pattern of their brain activity.  The remarkable thing was that it was possible to tell which film they were thinking of.  In effect, by modifying thinking and behavior, brain processes were also modified in a top-down effect.  Jeeves concludes:

Various people have tried to formalize all this in succinct statements.  You may come across some of them.  It seems to me that certain things stand out.  As I said earlier, we are a psychobiological unity.  The evidence currently available demonstrates a remarkable interdependence between what is happening the physical substrates in the brain and body, and what is happening in terms of mental processes.  This interdependence seems to be evident every time studies take place.—in other words, for me, they seem to be a part of the way the world is, so I tend to think of this interdependence as what I call intrinsic interdependence, or naturally inherent.  It also seems to me that we cannot reduce the mental to the physical any more than we can reduce the physical to the mental.  In this sense there is an important duality that we need to recognize between the mental and the physical, and I don’t believe this duality requires us to believe in two kinds of substances or a dualism of substance, and that makes me a “dual-aspect” monist.

Greg Boyd: Love Like the Sun and Rain

Spring Rain

Note from CM: It is hard to do justice to a book as massive as Greg Boyd’s The Crucifixion of the Warrior God: Volumes 1 & 2. We’ve had several days of discussing certain aspects of it, and yesterday I stated my main objection to his thesis. But as I said, my disagreements does not signal a lack of appreciation this book. I think it’s masterful and filled with a lot of good thinking and marvelous writing. This is rich, profound theological writing, centered on Christ, and I commend it wholeheartedly.

I think it only fair that I give Greg Boyd the final word by quoting a passage from the book today. Of the many, many that I could choose from, I’d like to highlight a practical, pastoral excerpt. This passage reminds us that one of the primary ways Jesus and the apostles defined a Jesus-shaped life was by making reference to the cross and our Lord’s self-sacrificial love for even his enemies.

And, as Pastor Boyd says, they weren’t just talking about how we think and feel.

• • •

In the previous chapter, we discussed Augustine’s subjective definition of love that enabled him, and multitudes of others that followed him, to claim that for God as well as God’s people, loving enemies does not necessarily rule out torturing and killing them. I now want to demonstrate that among the problems this definition faces is the fact that Jesus explicitly ruled it out. For Jesus commanded us not merely to love our enemies as an inner disposition, but to express this love by how we actually treat them. The love that Jesus teaches and models is both “active and nonviolent.”

We are specifically instructed to “bless,” “pray for,” “do good” to, “be merciful” toward, and to “lend to” our enemies “without expecting to get anything back” (Matt 5:44-45; Luke 6:28-29, 35). These are not inner dispositions, they are concrete behaviors. So too, as we saw in chapter 2, we are taught to disobey the OT’s command to exact just retribution and to instead “not resist (antistemi) an evil doer” and to turn the other cheek when struck (Matt 5:38-39). Moreover, “if anyone wants to sue [us] and take [our] shirt,” we are to “hand over [our] coat as well (Matt 5:40.” And if a Roman soldier commanded a Jew to carry his equipment “one mile,” as the law at the time allowed, Jesus told them to voluntarily “go with them two miles” (Matt 5:41). These are not merely instructions about how we should think or feel in response to enemies; they are instructions on how we are to actually behave in response to the hostile behavior of enemies. Peter Wick captures the ramifications of self-sacrificial love in the Sermon on the Mount while reflecting the thematic centrality of the cross when he notes that Jesus’s interpretation of the Torah in this sermon “aims at hearing the commandment of love in every other commandment and the whole Torah.” And he continues:

The aim is to overcome every type of violence and ultimately every force by love. …Love does not come easy and it is obviously dangerous. It was love that led Jesus to the cross. …Jesus in his own person fulfilled the Sermon on the Mount on the cross, but he handed over its message also explicitly to his disciples and the people (cf. Mat 5:1-2; 7:28-29), in order that they do it and try to imitate his example.

…however we interpret passages in which some see Jesus speaking or acting in unloving or even violent ways, I submit that they cannot be used to qualify the “enemies” Jesus instructs us to love, for Jesus’s teaching is specifically intended to rule out any exceptions. Jesus commands followers to demonstrate that they are “children of your Father in heaven” by reflecting the Father’s “perfect” love (Matt 5:45, 48). The nature of this love, Jesus teaches is reflected in the fact that the Father “causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous” (Matt 5:45). This love, in other words, is “perfect” precisely because it is indiscriminate — like the sun shining and the rain falling.

Jesus is thus revealing that the Father’s love is no more conditioned by the relative merits or circumstances of those it is directed toward than the sunshine and rain are conditioned by the relative merits of those they fall upon. The sun shines and the rain falls on everyone simply because it is in the God-created nature of the sun and rain to do so. So too, Jesus is teaching, the Father’s love is toward everyone simply because it is the Father’s nature to love like this. The children of the Father are thus instructed to love indiscriminately simply because only when we love like the sun shines and like the rain falls do we reflect the “perfect” character of our Father and thereby demonstrate that we are “children of the Father in heaven.”

• CWG I, 207-211

The Conundrum of a Warrior God (5)

The Seventh Plague, John Martin

Greg Boyd’s The Crucifixion of the Warrior God is the kind of book that gets my juices going. I love thinking and talking about the Bible and how to read, study, and interpret it, and I find Boyd’s book exhilarating. Greg is a wonderful writer, is passionate about Jesus and the Scriptures and relentless in his efforts to look at the Bible in a thoroughly Christ-centered manner.

There are passages in CWG that are luminous. Even when I end up disagreeing with Greg Boyd on many points, as I do, this work will have a place in my library because of the way it exalts Christ and makes clear the gracious, sacrificial, forgiving love of God.

On the other hand, CWG frustrates me. One of the main reasons is that I think Boyd, like so many who do evangelical studies, paints himself into a theological corner from the beginning of his approach. I’ll let our friend Rob Grayson explain one of the fundamental approaches that Boyd takes which ends up requiring him to make many of the decisions he makes when trying to understand difficult texts.

This is from part 3 of Rob’s review of CWG.

It seems to me that much of CWG is, in fact, an attempt to construct a hermeneutic (i.e. an interpretive approach) that is consistent with a particular view of the inspiration of scripture. [emphasis mine] The notion that all scripture is “God-breathed” is a recurring motif throughout the book, and Boyd is quick to emphasise that the Church has “always” held all of scripture to be divinely inspired; I was left with the feeling that he sees belief in inspiration as a marker of orthodoxy, even though the historic creeds make no mention of it.

…To put in another way, Boyd’s view of inspiration feels like an a priori that he has to defend as he grapples with violent OT portraits of God. To my mind, this severely restricts his interpretive freedom and forces him to dismiss other interpretive strategies that might otherwise be entirely valid – some of which, in my opinion at least, have great merit and are worthy of serious consideration.

Let me give an example of how I think Boyd’s commitment to a certain view of what scripture is and how it works forces him down a path toward his conclusions.

…I have argued that as a missionary to our fallen and often barbaric world, God had to stoop as low as was necessary to embrace people as they were if he hoped to gradually transform them to become the people he wanted them to be. This required God to humbly accommodate his revelation to the fallen and culturally conditioned hearts and minds of his ancient people, which means that, to this degree, God had to continue to allow people to view him in fallen and culturally conditioned ways. (CWG II, 763)

So far, so good. In fact, in my view, so far = sufficient. As Pete Enns put it, “God lets his children tell the story” in their own words, according to the socio-cultural perspectives of their day.

But Boyd must continue…

…if the interpretation given by various OT authors as to how God was involved in violent judgments reflects their fallen and culturally conditioned hearts and minds, I obviously must provide some alternative account of how God was actually involved in these judgments. To discern this, I contend, we must return once again to God’s definitive self-revelation on the cross, where we can discern a second dimension of “what else is going on” when biblical authors ascribe violence to God. (Ibid, emphasis mine)

To Greg Boyd, it is “obvious” that he must provide “some alternative account” of OT depictions of God that speak of him as a Divine Warrior, exercising violence in wrathful judgment or instructing his people to wipe out the Canaanites in order to possess their land.

But why is that obvious? Why must something else be going on these stories besides God allowing his people to tell their story in forms and terms that would have been characteristic of the Ancient Near East way of describing such things?

It is only obvious and necessary if one has a certain view of scripture when approaching these stories. Greg Boyd may not be the most conservative of scholars, but his approach here falls squarely within a certain conservative evangelical way of understanding the nature of the Bible. I would call it a more or less “flat” view.

A “flat” view means all scripture, every story, every law, every narrative, every poem is to be viewed as revelatory in the same kind of way: ultimately each tells us something about who God is, what God is like, and in Greg Boyd’s view it tells us that in light of the ultimate revelation of the cross. This foundational commitment puts the emphasis on the divine side of scripture and downplays the human side. It is a univocal understanding of scripture.

And for Boyd, that means if a text is not directly revelatory (a surface portrait of God that is consistent with the ultimate revelation of his character on the cross), one must look further.

If, as I have argued, all Scripture must bear witness to the crucified Christ, and if we can neither dismiss nor simply embrace the OT’s violent divine portraits, our only remaining option is to look for a way of interpreting these portraits that discloses how they reflect the self-sacrificial love of God revealed on Calvary.

In Origen’s words, a church father from whom Boyd finds support for his Cruciform Hermeneutic, we must “dig beneath ‘the frail vessel of the poor letter’ to unearth the ‘treasure of divine meanings'” (CWG I, 440).

But what if, say, the book of Joshua, with its story of herem (total destruction) in Canaan, is just one ancient perspective, one part of a multivocal conversation within Israel about who God is and what he asks of his people, part of a developing picture throughout the Hebrew Bible of what God is really like?

What if it is the whole conversation that’s important, not any single text or book alone? Why this need to harmonize the hard parts, why try and make them all point to Jesus in the same way?

It is not “obvious” to me that we must find deeper meanings in Divine Warrior texts. It seems much simpler and straightforward to take these texts at face value and attribute their disturbing portraits of God to ancient human authors who looked at things much differently.

Full stop.

It is only a certain view of the Bible that requires us to go further. And I don’t think we need to paint ourselves into Greg Boyd’s corner.