1) Correlation is not causation
The usual examples of this have to do with medicines, or therapies. It is also frequently cited by those arguing for the tobacco companies that it is simply unscientific to say that "cigarettes cause cancer". We simply do not know enough about cancer to claim that any one thing causes it. Wikipedia has a great graph showing that the number of fatalities on US roads fell with the increase of fresh lemons imported from Mexico - clearly those things are correlated but no one would claim that there is a causal connection between them. Conspiracy theorists around the globe tend to make claims based on correlations.
2) Correlation is not identity
There is a correlation between a living person and a beating heart, but a beating heart is not the person (this example from "The really hard problem" by Owen Flanagan).
These two general rules allow me to steer clear of a variety of troublesome liminal discussions in spirituality, especially where it intersects science.
To begin I will say that there is no thought without a brain. You need to have some sort of neuronal firing for thought to occur. Having said this it is important to say that neurons firing are not thought. There is a correlation between thought and neuronal activity, but small electrical charges crossing a cellular gap are not in themselves "atoms of thought"...or even quanta of thought.
In Flanagan's book he describes the Dalai Lama's categorization of Buddhist theology as having three pillars, experience, reason and tradition. And they are ranked in that order. Personal experience trumps everything. This makes sense in a Buddhist perspective.
But it is a little disingenuous to say experience trumps everything. it is true that Buddhism is experiential, and that almost everything in Buddhism a sustained effort at bringing the individual to the experience of Buddha Nature.
But Buddhism has its sages, has its levels of enlightenment. The witness of the Dalai Lama that such and such a state of consciousness is achievable carries more weight than whatever I have experienced. If nothing else his witness inspires me to try.
Thus there is a strong authority of scripture and tradition in the shaping of reason and experience.
This, of course, is common sense. As Flanagan says even science is very much indebted to tradition, its own scientific tradition. While scientific methodology is, in theory, backwards compatible (that is I can go back and repeat experiments) in practice this is not done - why? Because if Newton says he did it, then I do not need to repeat the experiment - I can just move on from his results and develop new insights. Newton carries a lot of authority. As do Einstein and Heisenberg, etc.
I think at this stage of the game it would be very healthy for Christianity to find again the experiential approach of the Desert Fathers and Mothers. They were benefited by working from a non-canonical perspective (the canon of scripture did not coalesce until centuries later). So they had to rely heavily on personal experience as their guide.
If we read the Desert monastics with modern concerns we might see in their focused approach to spiritual investigation a perfect methodology for dealing with all sorts of pickles we get ourselves into when trying to do it "by the book".
This is not to say I do not believe in the authority of Scripture. Of course I do. But I am trying to say that the point of Scriptural authority is to witness to me and inspire me to do what has been done before, to live the way I am told Jesus lived, to think the way I am told he thought. To allow the tradition to guide my thinking (theological reasoning) and my practice.
I think that Scriptures are an inspired summary of the practice of Jesus and the practice of the Apostles. We must focus on the practice and not on the summary. In this case the Scriptures are not God, and the Scriptures are correlated to God's words - strongly correlated.
To put it another way - this blog has a record of my words, my thoughts. But the blog is not my thoughts. Even this writing is a sketch of my actual thought process, codified by the rules of English syntax. Were I writing in Portuguese the words would be different, and the tone might be different, though the general gist of it would be the same. Someone going with a toothcomb over my words in both languages might find plenty of room for contradiction.
The Bible thus is correlated to God's words because it is the inspired record of the practice of Jesus as taught by the apostles and understood and interpreted by the early group of followers.
Back to science: in books where scientists try to figure out where God is in the brain I would say that it is the responsibility of every Christian to study the findings with much care. This is important stuff. We need to understand, for example, how words impact our brains, how prayer changes the neural pathways, how music and "smells and bells" can effect change in mind.
Most importantly we need to understand how we can bring all this information towards a renewal of our Christian practice. How can the understanding of prayer through MRIs help me see where I can change my prayer life so as to be more open to God? How can a diet (of food and sleep and stimulation) lead me to be more or less charitable?
In the end, I guess I want to live as Christ did, not simply know what Christ said.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Making allies, being good neighbor (notes)
Making your mind your ally
Instead of being bothered by thoughts mindfullness meditation can help you harness the mind towards more constructive ends, not through beating it into submission but rather by redirecting its ceaseless energy towards more profitable goals.
Making your body your ally
Running as a way to befriend the body. Physical exercise and especially sports as a way to befriend your body. Paul's metaphor on boxing and running suggests a compatibility between discipleship and sports.
Making your heart your ally
Conflicting emotions and desires have a tendency to distract and even harm us. A better way would be to work on listening to the heart's wisdom, giving it voice - though art for example.
Image or presence
My father was one of those larger than life individuals. It was just the way he was. he would walk into a room and commandeer it. I am not sure he would do it on purpose, I used to think it was a natural outgrowth of being used to give orders and being obeyed.
I often think about the encounter with Jesus and the centurion where the centurion admits that he is used to authority, and he recognizes such a thing in Jesus.
Just say a word and it will be so. Like is known to like in a way that is obvious, though not always welcome. you get two type A personalities in a room and it is likely there will be attrition.
But I have begun to wonder how much of this commanding presence is really presence and how much of it is self-image? To clarify: self-image is how we perceive ourselves as objects of others' attention. Presence is different from self-image in that presence is purely subjective, I am this. I am what I am. Self-image is worried about how one is seen by others. For me to be aware of how you see me, requires that I create a fantasy, an abstraction - I have to generate an object of myself to myself so I can observe it.
This mechanism is useful because it is the same mechanism which allows us create an abstraction of another person and "read their minds", to realize that other people have different intentions and motives than ourselves.
This mechanism is dangerous when the self-image becomes identified as our egos. When I say "I am this" or "I am that" and I begin to relate from that abstraction as the real me. Then when anything tries to harm that self-image we respond with the same mechanism we use to protect our physical bodies - that is fight or flight.
I wonder where we got the idea that defending our self-image required the same tools and strategies as defending our physical selves?
Presence is indefensible. Mostly because it is not dependent on external factors, and a subjective state.
These two elements are not mutually exclusive. A strong presence will perhaps create a strong self-image. A strong self-image will probably create a strong presence. But the approach to it is different. If you develop a strong sense of presence, then you will not be too concerned with protecting self-image, but the reverse is not necessarily true.
I often think about the encounter with Jesus and the centurion where the centurion admits that he is used to authority, and he recognizes such a thing in Jesus.
Just say a word and it will be so. Like is known to like in a way that is obvious, though not always welcome. you get two type A personalities in a room and it is likely there will be attrition.
But I have begun to wonder how much of this commanding presence is really presence and how much of it is self-image? To clarify: self-image is how we perceive ourselves as objects of others' attention. Presence is different from self-image in that presence is purely subjective, I am this. I am what I am. Self-image is worried about how one is seen by others. For me to be aware of how you see me, requires that I create a fantasy, an abstraction - I have to generate an object of myself to myself so I can observe it.
This mechanism is useful because it is the same mechanism which allows us create an abstraction of another person and "read their minds", to realize that other people have different intentions and motives than ourselves.
This mechanism is dangerous when the self-image becomes identified as our egos. When I say "I am this" or "I am that" and I begin to relate from that abstraction as the real me. Then when anything tries to harm that self-image we respond with the same mechanism we use to protect our physical bodies - that is fight or flight.
I wonder where we got the idea that defending our self-image required the same tools and strategies as defending our physical selves?
Presence is indefensible. Mostly because it is not dependent on external factors, and a subjective state.
These two elements are not mutually exclusive. A strong presence will perhaps create a strong self-image. A strong self-image will probably create a strong presence. But the approach to it is different. If you develop a strong sense of presence, then you will not be too concerned with protecting self-image, but the reverse is not necessarily true.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Prayer life
Conversations about prayer life are always a little uncomfortable for me. It is the same sort of discomfort one feels when a stranger asks some random question or makes a comment about the weather...you always feel this lingering sense of something else will be following this pleasant and meaningless exchange.
There is an added level to prayer though. There is something about wearing a robe which I guess give me a PhD in prayer in the eyes of some. So it is natural to assume I could answer questions about prayer.
It is true that I probably could answer those questions, but usually (and here is where the discomfort sets in) my explanations are supposed to include information about my prayer life. It seems most people probably either non-existent prayer lives or anemic ones so talking about what they don't have is just part of traditional bourgeois, suburban conversations about what we do not have that our neighbors do. I do not have John's extra large LCD TV or the Petersons' shinny new SUV, or Br. Leo's fantastic prayer life...Prayer, in suburbia is just another thing we need to keep up with the Joneses.
This commodification of prayer makes it very difficult to have an actual discussion about actual prayer. If prayer is a form of relating with God, then it has a lot more to do with sex than with commodities. Though, considering how much sex is a
product these days, it may not be very surprising.
Since prayer, the kind of prayer that I practice, is much more akin to sex, then I have little or no desire to discuss it at random. Someone once told me that mysticism is the erotic relationship with God. Shocking for some, but I believe this to be true if we are careful in our definitions of all the critical words (mysticism, erotic and God).
If I even go down the road of talking about prayer life, I usually I want to spend sometime talking about the person's concept of God and of prayer. What is prayer for? Who is God? How do prayer and God interact? These are not simple theological shibboleths, but rather they are necessary beginnings for a meaningful conversation about prayer life. And even then I will probably talk about their prayer life – which is what they want to talk about anyway. I still coach and help people in their devotional practices. Why? Because I love them, and they need it, and they need me to tell them that God can be there for them, that God can be a safe and trusted harbor. Life is tough enough already. They don't need anything more than a comforting God who can give some meaning and shelter.
So for myself I "envy" those who claim they reach out to God in prayer as a friend. Wish I could do that!
In reality, for me God is not "there" (or "here" for that matter). In prayer there is Nothing. Nothing prayer to not-God. And as I pray I pray that God be in His Nothingness even more there (or here) - a koan of sorts, I think.
I go to my little corner desk where I have my Nepalese singing bowl, a candle, an icon, a crucifix, and my book of psalms. Most times it is not me there at all - it is the room and the noises in the street that are breathing in that corner, watching in that corner, praying there. Sometimes that corner is in a bad mood, sometimes frustrated, sometimes quiet and content.
Further, when people talk of prayer they really are asking about intercessory prayer. To me this happens infrequently. When it does it is obvious, and powerful, and immediately effective. It feels like praying with not to God. And there is immediate consolation in knowing God knows and is doing something about it. But I would say these are the exceptions. The vast majority of time I would say intercessory prayer is simply not heard. Now, there might be other, subtler, benefits to practicing regular intercessory prayer even without the results - the greatest of which is that it is hard not to care about people you pray for. So it is always profitable to pray. Just, in my experience, expecting results is bound to be disappointing.
And what people do? They lie to themselves either by inflating the results or fabricating them altogether. Why? To protect God's reputation as a miracle worker, as a Sovereign who is All-Powerful. But did not Jesus come in as the lowest of the low? What does this say about God?
If, when people asked me about my prayer life, I told them these things I know they would rush in with their pieties (to comfort me), or think me mad.
This spirituality of mine is one of the reasons I have to be a solitary: I am too rough and uncivilized, and I cannot get comfortable with the purple pillow of piety (jasmine scented).
I really wish God was a comfort, that God was a "pill" that takes all my pains away. But the God I know and love is most often an all-devouring absence, something that removes my comforts...
This is where St. Romuald's brief Rule makes sense to me. Step six of the brief Rule states that I should destroy myself completely. This sounds like bombastic exaggeration, or perhaps Romantic afflatus, or dangerously deranged psychosis. Perhaps it is all of the above.
This sixth step is not so nice...and then is that seventh step. So people ask me, "What do you do?", and they expect some uber-monk yoga practices or some super-secret piety exercises or something which would allow me to be happy-happy all the time. And the truth is all I do is sit and wait for "the bus"... I am abandoned by God in God for God, like a baby bird chirping for some regurgitated grubs and water...
For the record: I'm not too fond of birds, and even less so of baby birds, ugly, squirmy, demanding, selfish little things. Not a very flattering image - wish I could say I was a soaring eagle!
There is an added level to prayer though. There is something about wearing a robe which I guess give me a PhD in prayer in the eyes of some. So it is natural to assume I could answer questions about prayer.
It is true that I probably could answer those questions, but usually (and here is where the discomfort sets in) my explanations are supposed to include information about my prayer life. It seems most people probably either non-existent prayer lives or anemic ones so talking about what they don't have is just part of traditional bourgeois, suburban conversations about what we do not have that our neighbors do. I do not have John's extra large LCD TV or the Petersons' shinny new SUV, or Br. Leo's fantastic prayer life...Prayer, in suburbia is just another thing we need to keep up with the Joneses.
This commodification of prayer makes it very difficult to have an actual discussion about actual prayer. If prayer is a form of relating with God, then it has a lot more to do with sex than with commodities. Though, considering how much sex is a
product these days, it may not be very surprising.
Since prayer, the kind of prayer that I practice, is much more akin to sex, then I have little or no desire to discuss it at random. Someone once told me that mysticism is the erotic relationship with God. Shocking for some, but I believe this to be true if we are careful in our definitions of all the critical words (mysticism, erotic and God).
If I even go down the road of talking about prayer life, I usually I want to spend sometime talking about the person's concept of God and of prayer. What is prayer for? Who is God? How do prayer and God interact? These are not simple theological shibboleths, but rather they are necessary beginnings for a meaningful conversation about prayer life. And even then I will probably talk about their prayer life – which is what they want to talk about anyway. I still coach and help people in their devotional practices. Why? Because I love them, and they need it, and they need me to tell them that God can be there for them, that God can be a safe and trusted harbor. Life is tough enough already. They don't need anything more than a comforting God who can give some meaning and shelter.
So for myself I "envy" those who claim they reach out to God in prayer as a friend. Wish I could do that!
In reality, for me God is not "there" (or "here" for that matter). In prayer there is Nothing. Nothing prayer to not-God. And as I pray I pray that God be in His Nothingness even more there (or here) - a koan of sorts, I think.
I go to my little corner desk where I have my Nepalese singing bowl, a candle, an icon, a crucifix, and my book of psalms. Most times it is not me there at all - it is the room and the noises in the street that are breathing in that corner, watching in that corner, praying there. Sometimes that corner is in a bad mood, sometimes frustrated, sometimes quiet and content.
Further, when people talk of prayer they really are asking about intercessory prayer. To me this happens infrequently. When it does it is obvious, and powerful, and immediately effective. It feels like praying with not to God. And there is immediate consolation in knowing God knows and is doing something about it. But I would say these are the exceptions. The vast majority of time I would say intercessory prayer is simply not heard. Now, there might be other, subtler, benefits to practicing regular intercessory prayer even without the results - the greatest of which is that it is hard not to care about people you pray for. So it is always profitable to pray. Just, in my experience, expecting results is bound to be disappointing.
And what people do? They lie to themselves either by inflating the results or fabricating them altogether. Why? To protect God's reputation as a miracle worker, as a Sovereign who is All-Powerful. But did not Jesus come in as the lowest of the low? What does this say about God?
If, when people asked me about my prayer life, I told them these things I know they would rush in with their pieties (to comfort me), or think me mad.
This spirituality of mine is one of the reasons I have to be a solitary: I am too rough and uncivilized, and I cannot get comfortable with the purple pillow of piety (jasmine scented).
I really wish God was a comfort, that God was a "pill" that takes all my pains away. But the God I know and love is most often an all-devouring absence, something that removes my comforts...
This is where St. Romuald's brief Rule makes sense to me. Step six of the brief Rule states that I should destroy myself completely. This sounds like bombastic exaggeration, or perhaps Romantic afflatus, or dangerously deranged psychosis. Perhaps it is all of the above.
This sixth step is not so nice...and then is that seventh step. So people ask me, "What do you do?", and they expect some uber-monk yoga practices or some super-secret piety exercises or something which would allow me to be happy-happy all the time. And the truth is all I do is sit and wait for "the bus"... I am abandoned by God in God for God, like a baby bird chirping for some regurgitated grubs and water...
For the record: I'm not too fond of birds, and even less so of baby birds, ugly, squirmy, demanding, selfish little things. Not a very flattering image - wish I could say I was a soaring eagle!
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