Everyday Evil, Part 7: Beyond Catechesis: Habit and Improv

Recall, this series was intended to be delivered to church leaders in Portland but my blog, alas, was deemed to be too controversial for some at ACU. But the point is, once I had the church leaders work thorough all this material (Parts 1-6) what was I going to say next?

Up to this point my project has been wholly negative. That is, I've been trying to cite study after study to illustrate one basic point: Our virtue is fragile and contextual.

But this is a negative conclusion. In a positive vein, what are we going to do about it?

How do we combat everyday evil? My suggestion is not novel, I am borrowing. My recommendation is that churches move beyond catechesis and begin to invest in habit formation.

The main spiritual formation tool in my church is catechesis, religious instruction. Basically, we are exposed to preaching and bible study. And that is about it. It's a pretty cerebral exercise. But given what I've shown you in this series I hope I've convinced you that catechesis isn't enough to support good intentions under contextual pressures.

So, what I'm suggesting is that we recover the notion of habit formation in kingdom living. You will recall that our friend William James wrote a very influential chapter on habit in his Principles of Psychology. Specifically, James used a variety of metaphors for habits:

A Savings Fund: Habit is "to fund and capitalize our acquisitions, and live at ease upon the interest of the fund."

A Tax: "...do every day to two something for no other reason than that you would rather not do it, so that when the hour of dire need draws neigh, it may find you not unnerved and untrained to stand the test. Asceticism of this sort is like the insurance which a man pays on his house and goods. The tax does him no good at the time, and possibly may never bring him a return. But if the fire does come, his having paid it will be his salvation from ruin."

James knew the dangers of everyday evil. If the fund or tax has not been paid then good intentions will not suffice to allow us to escape the pressures we have encountered in this series: The Stanford Prison Study, Obedience, Conformity, the Bystander Effect, and Hurry. As James states: "No matter how full a reservoir of maxims one may possess, and no matter how good one's sentiments may be, if one has not taken advantage of every concrete opportunity to act, one's character may remain entirely unaffected for the better. With mere good intentions, hell is proverbially paved."

Note James's suspicion of moral catechesis, his dismissal of merely learning moral "maxims." Memorizing bible stories doesn't create good character.

So how do we acquire habits? James gives some specifics:

First, change your life to reinforce the habit: "Accumulate all the possible circumstances which shall re-enforce the right motives; put yourself assiduously in conditions that encourage the new way; make engagements incompatible with the old; take a public pledge, if the case allows; in short, envelop your resolution with every aid you know."

Second, prevent lapsing at all costs: "Each lapse is like the letting fall of a ball of string which one is carefully winding up; a single slip undoes more than a great many turns will wind again." These lapses add up to a failed character-formation project: "The hell to be endured hereafter, of which theology tells, is no worse than the hell we make for ourselves in this world by habitually fashioning our characters in the wrong way."

This notion of habit formation is undergoing a resurgence of interest in Christian ethics (yet again we see how James anticipates us). For example, in his excellent book Improvisation: The Drama of Christian Ethics, Samuel Wells places habit at the center of moral formation.

Specifically, Wells suggest that ethical living is like being an accomplished improv artist. To the audience, the improv artist looks like she is "making it up" as she goes along. But the truth is, improv only looks spontaneous and effortless because of years of hard work and habit formation and the part of the artists. That is, improv isn't really about talent. It's about hard work. Improv is all about acquiring good habits, habits that allow you and your partners to take the story coherently forward given the situation posed to you.

Wells argues that Christian living/ethics is like an act of improv. That is, every day life throws "a situation" at us. Just like the improv artist is thrown a situation from the audience. And we need to take that situation and move forward with it in an improvisational way. There is no clear script, but we must act. And yet, as Christians we want our actions to move the story forward in a way that is distinctly Christian. So, for example, you go into work and your boss blames you for something not your fault, or you find a co-worker undermining you in the workplace. Well, life just threw at you, the improv artist, the "situation." Now you have to take it from there. You have to take the story forward in a distinctively Christian way.

But to move the story forward, to morally improvise, you have to have the rhythms and movements of the Christian life habituated into your body and mind. If these habits are not in place at the moment of moral crisis you can't take the story forward in the Christian way. You'll act of course, but you'll be lashing out in defensiveness, anger, or self-protection. The story moved forward but not in a way you are proud of.

The point is, to be a good Christian is to be like a good improv artist. Which means we need to have put in the time and hard work which allows us to be poised and ready when the lights come up. Because once the lights are up--once the moral crisis hits you square in the face--you don't have time to think. You have to act. And your actions will need habits to guide you forward instinctively.

Let me end this series with some of Wells's words:

"The battle of Waterloo was won on the playing fields of Eton." The Duke of Wellington's famous reflection on the climax of the Napoleonic wars was not a statement of personal modesty. It was a recognition that success in battle depends on the character of one's soldiers...

The argument of this chapter is that the moral life is more about Eton than it is about Waterloo. Eton and Waterloo represent two distinct aspects of the moral life. Eton represents the long period of preparation. Waterloo represents the time episode of implementation--the moment of decision, or "situation." ...[I]t has become conventional to study Waterloo without studying Eton...Ethics has become the study of the battlefield without much recognition of the training ground.

Ethics is not primarily about the operating theater: It is about the lecture theater, the training field, the practice hall, the library, the tutorial, the mentoring session. There are two times--one, the time of moral effort, the other, the time of moral habit. The time for moral effort is the time of formation and training. This is "Eton." Training requires commitment, discipline, faithfulness, study, apprenticeship, practice, cooperation, observation, reflection--in short, moral effort. The point of this effort is to form skills and habits--habits that mean people take the right things for granted and skills that give them the ability to do the things they take for granted. The time of moral habit is the "moment of decision." This is "Waterloo," or the "operating room." Waterloo and the operating room separate those whose instincts have been appropriately formed from those whose character is inadequately prepared. In every moral "situation," the real decisions are ones that have been taken some time before. To live well requires both effort and habit. There is a place for both. But no amount of effort at the moment of decision will make up for effort neglected in the time of formation.

The moral life should not be experienced as an agony of impossible choice. Instead, it should be a matter of habit and instinct.


Hope you have enjoyed the series!