You can now explore the chapters within my most recent book The Authenticity of Faith: The Varieties and Illusions of Religious Experience using Amazon's Look Inside function. (Apologies for those of you outside the US. The Press tells me they are still working to get the book overseas.)

One of the arguments of the book is that the landscape of Christian apologetics has been dramatically altered in the face of functional accounts of religious belief. The first paragraph of the book:

The goal of this book is to answer a question: Why do people believe in God? More specifically, this book is aimed at answering a particular form of this question, a nuance that emerged in the modern period through the work of thinkers such as Karl Marx, Charles Darwin, and, of particular importance for this book, Sigmund Freud. The shift in emphasis in “the God question” occasioned by these thinkers has rendered much of Christian theology and apologetics effectively useless in addressing many contemporary criticisms of religious faith. The playing field has shifted. And a new kind of apologetics is needed.

Traditional apologetics has focused on the reasonableness of faith. This is a defense of faith based upon logic, philosophical argumentation, and evidence. However, this project has been rendered impotent in the face of arguments like those of Freud and Marx.

How so?

By talking about the functions rather than the contents of religious belief thinkers like Freud and Marx have effectively changed the subject. I illuminate this distinction a little later in the Prelude:

Let me give an example of the relevant contrast here, albeit somewhat crudely. In classical apologetics a Christian might have been asked to justify her belief that Jesus of Nazareth was resurrected from the dead. What justifies that belief? By contrast, in the wake of the work of thinkers such as Freud, the question morphs and becomes something a bit different, something like this: Why would someone be attracted to the idea of life after death? That is a different kind of question, a question that moves past the propositional contents of faith and begins to investigate the underlying, often subterranean, motivations behind belief-formation itself. These questions are highly destabilizing because few of us are able to plumb the depths of our unconscious motivations. Is it possible that I believe in the resurrection because I am motivated by a deep and unconscious fear of death? Honest people admit that this may be a very real possibility. If so, hasn’t my faith been rendered to be an illusion, a psychological system that helps me cope with an unsettling reality? Suddenly, we are no longer talking about evidence, argument, and reasonableness. We are talking about psychological motivations, often unconscious motivations. And if those motivations are called into question (plausibly so, for who does not want to live forever?) how are we to respond? The tools of classical apologetics are impotent here. Nor is the bible or theology of any help.

So how are we to approach the argument of a person like Freud? If theology and the bible are of no help what are we to do? My assessment from the book:

[I]ssues related to human motivation, particularly unconscious motivation, cannot be settled with armchair speculation or biblical analysis. Nor will introspection, even erudite and sophisticated introspection, move us forward. These issues, ultimately, boil down to human psychology. To make any headway with these new criticisms of faith, to show, for example, that faith is more than “wishful thinking,” a person is going to need to know a bit about how religious belief functions in the mind of believers. Apologetics has shifted to the social sciences.

When my publisher asked me to write a book description I wrote that the book was attempting a "New Apologetics." He emailed back wondering, "Isn't that sort of a bold claim?"

I replied, yes, yes it is.

Why write a book if you're not being bold?

Two years ago I reviewed the book Us Against Them: Ethnocentric Foundations of American Opinion by Donald Kinder and Cindy Kam. Given that we are in the midst of an election year I thought I'd bring this research back to your attention. The effects of ethnocentrism upon American political life should be of concern to every follower of Jesus.

Kinder and Kam define ethnocentrism as generalized prejudice, the propensity to separate the world into in-groups and out-groups. From Us Against Them:

...ethnocentrism is an attitude that divides the world into two opposing camps. From an ethnocentric point of view, groups are either "friend" or they are "foe." Ethnocentrism is a general outlook on social difference; it is prejudice broadly conceived.

We define ethnocentrism to be a way of thinking that partitions the world into in-groups and out-groups--into us and them.

Ethnocentrism is the psychological tendency to separate our social worlds into "us" and "them." As a part of this process we attribute virtue to people similar to ourselves and vice to out-group members, people from different ethnic groups, nations, socioeconomic strata or belief systems. More, given these attitudes we are ready to help in-group members and thwart out-group members:

Ethnocentrism is a mental habit. It is a predisposition to divide the human world into in-groups and out-groups. It is a readiness to reduce society to us and them. Or rather, it is a readiness to reduce society to us versus them. This division of humankind into in-group and out-group is not innocuous. Members of in-groups (until they prove otherwise) are assumed to be virtuous: friendly, cooperative, trustworthy, safe, and more. Members of out-groups (until they prove otherwise) are assumed to be the opposite: unfriendly, uncooperative, unworthy of trust, dangerous, and more. Symbols and practices become objects of attachment and pride when they belong to the in-group and objects of condescension, disdain, and (in extreme cases) hatred when they belong to out-groups. Ethnocentrism constitutes a readiness to act in favor of in-groups and in opposition to out-groups...

What does it mean to say ethnocentrism is generalized prejudice? We tend to think prejudice is group specific, and it can be. For example, one might have very negative feelings about a particular out-group (e.g., Whites, Blacks, gays, Muslims, etc.). However, the research on ethnocentrism has revealed that prejudices tend to cluster together. Thus, if we hear a person make a comment about blacks on welfare we can make a good guess about where this person stands on gay marriage or immigration reform.

What are the sources of ethnocentrism? In Us Against Them Kinder and Kam show evidence that ethnocentrism, across ethnic groups, is generally uncorrelated to various political positions (e.g., party identification, views on limited government). Among Whites there are some slight trends. Among whites ethnocentrism is, albeit weakly, correlated with political conservatism, a distaste for egalitarianism (e.g., social welfare to produce "fairness"), social distrust, and a desire for a more limited government. Generally, however, ethnocentrism is a force in American life that is distinct from other, more commonly discussed, political variables. Consequently, ethnocentrism needs to be examined as a political force in its own right if we are going to get a true and accurate sense of the dynamics involved in American policy debates.

Interestingly, ethnocentrism declines with increasing education. The most important factor appears to be college education. As Kinder and Kam summarize the data: "Based on these results, it would seem that education, and especially the experience associated with higher education, build tolerance and erode ethnocentrism."

The bulk of of Us Against Them is devoted to examining how ethnocentrism influences how certain Americans approach various policy issues and hot button topics. Kinder and Kam are keen to note that ethnocentrism does not have an effect on every political topic. Rather, ethnocentrism is activated when a particular political issue, or a media framing of the issue, is presented as an "us against them" conflict. Sadly, this "us against them" frame fits many of the issues currently facing America. Thus, while ethnocentrism doesn't affect every political debate is does influence public opinion on a wide variety of topics. In Part 2 of Us Against Them in Chapters 4-10 Kinder and Kam use two different measures of ethnocentrism to predict attitudes on a variety of political topics. Summarising, ethnocentrism predicts the following:

1. An aggressive, hawish foreign policy stance.
2. Less empathy for foreign civilian casualties in America's wars (e.g., the deaths of Iraqi women and children in the War on Terror).
3. Less support for foreign aid and assistance.
4. Support for anti-immigration policies and protective measures to preserve "our American" culture from the effects of immigration.
5. Opposition to gay rights.
6. Opposition to policies, such as affirmative action, aimed at redressing historic inequalities between blacks and whites.
7. Opposition to means-tested welfare (i.e., programs for low-income persons) such as Food Stamps or Medicaid.
8. Support for social insurance welfare, such as Social Security and Medicare.

The contrast between these last two are the most interesting to me given my particular and, I'd argue, non-partisan interest in universal health care for all American citizens. Generally speaking, Americans actually do like social welfare programs. Thus the great difficulty politicians face from older voters when they try to reform Social Security or Medicare. For example, President Bush created the Prescription Drug Act that wasn't paid for and which added 400-550 billion dollars to the national debt. And no one minded that much or to took to the streets dressed as Thomas Paine. More, we don't mind the federal mandates that make us pay into Social Security and Medicare from our paychecks. But a mandate to pay into health insurance is, well, tyrannical.

So we sort of like the welfare state. More precisely, we like social welfare that is for us. But we are against welfare for them.

These are some of the reasons for why I think some of the opposition to the Affordable Care Act is driven by ethnocentrism.

Anyway, ethnocentrism--generalized prejudice--is out there this election year. It always is. It's called sin. So do your best to fight these tendencies within your own heart and help raise the political discourse between now and November.

You may recall a while back a big conversation that was kicked off on the Internet by some comments John Piper made about Christianity having a "masculine feel." Regarding this "masculine Christianity" Piper said:

...the fullest flourishing of women and men takes place in churches and families where Christianity has this God-ordained, masculine feel. For the sake of the glory of women, and for the sake of the security and joy of children, God has made Christianity to have a masculine feel. He has ordained for the church a masculine ministry.

As a part of the Internet reaction I wrote a post in response to a call made by Rachel Held Evans asking for some men to weigh in on the topic. That post of mine focused on this text from the gospels:

Matthew 23.9
And call no man your father on earth, for you have one Father, who is in heaven.

I'd like to revisit this topic and some of the associated commentary responding to John Piper by expanding on my original post.

Let me start with this. I think a lot of people were missing the point in trying to push back on John Piper. Specifically, the focus was often on gender and not on the deeper issue--power. More, I think by focusing on gender a lot of the resultant commentary unwittingly helped John Piper make his case.

Let me explain that. When John Piper made the comment that Christianity--God in particular--has a "masculine feel" many people rushed to their bibles to point to passages where God is tender, soft, or nurturing or where a maternal metaphor is used to describe God.

I think this was a mistake for two interrelated reasons.

First, in pointing to "feminine" aspects of God you're unwittingly reinforcing gender stereotypes. By pointing to God's tenderness as an example of a Christianity with a "feminine feel" you've labeled tenderness as "feminine." Which is a tacit acceptance of Piper's describing other adjectives as "masculine." My point here is that tenderness isn't masculine or feminine. And by rushing to present a contrast to Piper some people allowed his framing to structure the conversation.

Second, by pointing out these "feminine" aspects of God you are unwittingly contributing to Piper's complementarian position. Piper points to "masculine" attributes of God and those responding to him point to "feminine" aspects. That is, God has these "masculine" aspects--like strength--and these "feminine" aspects--like tenderness. That would make sense to Piper as both man and woman are, as a complementary pair, created to reflect God's image. Of course God has both attributes, which is why a man and a woman can't, by themselves, reflect the Image of God. You need to bring the woman with her "feminine" attributes, attributes presumably that men don't have or contribute, into union with the man who brings the "masculine" attributes.

In short, I think the rush to show that God has "feminine" attributes muddies the waters at best and makes Piper's case at worst.

My recommendation is to not play Piper's game. Don't accept his framing. The issue isn't really about gender at all. The issue is about power.

Which brings be back to Matthew 23.9.

On the surface in this passage it looks like Jesus is saying something that backs Piper up. That God is a Father, a male. But I think that is missing the point.

Jesus's statement--"call no man on earth father"--was a bomb. A huge bomb. Jesus is attacking the foundation of the power structure supporting his society.

We tend to forget just how patriarchal Jesus's society was. A survey of gender relations in the contemporary Middle East gives us some clue. As does a perusal of the Old Testament where the patriarchs rule. The men, the fathers, the patriarchs held the power.

And into that context Jesus says, "Call no man on earth father."

Jesus isn't saying God is a man. Jesus is attacking the patriarchal power structure, cutting it off at the knees. The issue isn't about gender. The issue is about power.

We see Jesus elaborate upon this theme in one of his more puzzling statements:

Matthew 10.34
“Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword."

Huh? Isn't Jesus supposed to be the non-violent Prince of Peace? What's all this about swords and "I have not come to earth to bring peace"?

In the next verses it all becomes clear:

"For I have come to turn 'a man against his father,
a daughter against her mother,
a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law—
a man’s enemies will be the members of his own household.'"

Again, Jesus is attacking the patriarchal power structures embedded in first-century Middle Eastern family organization. Jesus is bringing a sword, but he's not attacking people. Jesus is attacking a power structure, cutting it down. Yes, Jesus is bringing a war. But it's a war against patriarchy.

In both of these passages Jesus is showing a new way, a way that renounces powerplays. Just after his statement about bringing a sword Jesus goes on to say this:

Whoever does not take up their cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds their life will lose it, and whoever loses their life for my sake will find it.

This isn't a contradiction of Jesus's earlier statement about not bringing peace. Again, Jesus is attacking power structures. The cross is the sword. The cross is the war. Instead of grasping at power we lay it down and take up the cross.

So the issue isn't really about gender, about if God has a "masculine" or "feminine" feel. The issue is about the use of power within the Kingdom. The discussion about gender is really just a cover for a powerplay, about who is in charge and who gets to call the shots. And as we've seen, Jesus is absolutely hostile to this sort of thing. When this sort of thing is going on in the Kingdom Jesus will be bringing the sword. There should be no peace in this instance, only conflict with the power structure. Another moment in Matthew on this point:

Matthew 20.20-21, 24-28
Then the mother of Zebedee’s sons came to Jesus with her sons and, kneeling down, asked a favor of him.

“What is it you want?” he asked.

She said, “Grant that one of these two sons of mine may sit at your right and the other at your left in your kingdom.”

When the ten heard about this, they were indignant with the two brothers. Jesus called them together and said, “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave—just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

Jesus completely undermines the powerplay. Power in the Kingdom is not "lording over" people, with some giving orders and others obeying orders. That's the way the world works. And if you see that sort of stuff going on in a church you're witnessing heresy. Christians don't give orders to Christians. The Christian way is the cross. The greatest amongst us are the servants. The preeminent amongst us are the ones washing feet. We seek to serve rather than be served. That's how power looks in the Kingdom of God.

The problem with what John Piper said isn't about Christianity having a "masculine feel." Truth be told, I don't know what the hell he's talking about. The problem is with what is going on beneath that statement. "Masculine" is just a warrant to exert power. About calling men on earth "father." About some getting to "lord over" others. It's about a power grab.

And in the face of that powerplay Jesus's response is pretty clear.

"I have come not to bring peace, but a sword."

Then Jesus told them this parable:

“Suppose a shepherd has a hundred sheep and he loses all of them. Doesn’t he go out into the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds one? And when he finds one, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. And having rescued one sheep he leaves the ninety-nine sheep lost in the wild. He calls his friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me! I have found one of my lost sheep.’

As you make plans this summer, put Streaming at Rochester College on your radar screen for June 18-20. The conference schedule is now online. Some highlights:

MONDAY
3:00 Welcome and Opening Worship: Mike Cope
4:15 Film review: Lars and Real Girl
5:00 Walter Brueggemann: “Life as a ‘Business Model’”
7:30 Rolando Diaz and Caryl Parker, Live performance, music and painting

TUESDAY
8:45 Walter Brueggemann: “Covenant: Life Redefined as Faithful Relationship”
10:00 Panel Discussion: Practicing the Prophetic Imagination
11:00 Greg Stevenson: “Pharisees Anonymous: Mercy in Matthew”
1:15 Film Review: Tree of Life
2:00 Richard Beck: “The Purity Collapse: The Psychology of Missional Failure”
3:00 Panel Discussion: Unclean
4:15 Worship, Caryl Parker
5:00 Evening free, including Tigers’ game vs. Cardinals

WEDNESDAY
8:45 Richard Beck: “The Will to Embrace: In Search of Christian Hospitality”
10:00 Brueggemann and Beck conversation
11:15 Closing Worship, Sara Barton

I'm particularly excited about that 10:00 conversation with Walter Brueggemann on Wednesday.

When you get to be my age as a college professor you have to start acting like an anthropologist to keep up with the culture of your students. When I started teaching I could make a Seinfeld joke and everyone in the class would laugh. I was young enough that the students and I shared pop culture.

Those days are long gone. Both because I've aged and because I don't have the time I used to have to see movies, watch TV, be on Facebook, or listen to new music.

To remedy this situation I resort to anthropological fieldwork. I ask my students about what they are listening to, what's cool, what's lame. And so on. And I also pay attention how my students talk.

The other day I was visiting with Caren, our student worker in the department. She was talking about something and said, "It was pretty jank."

Jank?

"Did you say jank?" I asked. "J-a-n-k?"

"Yes," she replied. "Don't you know what jank means?"

I did not. So she spent some time explaining it to me. The anthropologist hard at work.

My researches into the meaning of jank continued this last weekend eating pizza with our friends Matt and Amy (Happy Birthday Amy!). Matt, being much more cool than I, helped fill in some details. I also spent some time looking up jank on Urban Dictionary.

As best I can tell, jank originally meant that something was of poor or lesser quality. But the meaning of jank has now evolved into an all purpose word for saying something is bad. Context largely defines the meaning of jank. If you don't like something or find something to be defective, cheap, or of poor quality you can call it jank. As in, "X is jank." (You can even say something is "janky".)

Given that this blog is on the cutting edge of theological experimentation (e.g., I've tried to introduce "D'oh" into the theological lexicon) I thought I'd try to introduce jank into the theological blogosphere.

Hence the title of this post.

I'm sure you are familiar with the Lord's Prayer from Matthew 6. I'd like to draw your attention to the translation of verse 13:

NIV
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from the evil one.

KJV
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil...

ESV
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.

ASV
And bring us not into temptation,
but deliver us from the evil one.

NLT
And don’t let us yield to temptation,
but rescue us from the evil one.

GNT
Do not bring us to hard testing,
but keep us safe from the Evil One.

CEV
Keep us from being tempted
and protect us from evil.

As you can see, there is some ambiguity about how to translate the version of the Greek word πονηρός (ponēros, pronounced pon-ay-ros') in this text.

As best I can tell, the ambiguity comes from the genitive case in the Greek. The genitive case for singular nouns in the Greek is the same for masculine and neuter nouns. Thus the genitive usage in Matthew 6.13--tou (the) ponērou (evil or evil one)--can be either masculine or neuter. We know we are working with the singular (rather than the plural). If we read tou ponērou as a singular masculine noun we have "the evil one." But if we read it as singular neuter noun then we have something that is more abstract, evil rather than evil one. The Greek, as best I can tell, allows for both readings.

Contrast this with the use of ponēros in Matthew 13 (the Parable of the Sower) where ponēros is preceded by ho, the singular masculine version of "the." In this instance the translation seems clear : Evil one (the devil).

Matthew 13.19
Those who hear the message about the Kingdom but do not understand it are like the seeds that fell along the path. The Evil One comes and snatches away what was sown in them.

The phrase tou ponērou occurs three other times in the book of Matthew. Perhaps the context of those verses will clear things up?

Matthew 5.37 (NIV)
All you need to say is simply ‘Yes’ or ‘No’; anything beyond this comes from the evil one.

Matthew 12.35 (NIV)
A good man brings good things out of the good stored up in him, and an evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in him.

Matthew 13:38 (NIV)
The field is the world, and the good seed stands for the people of the kingdom. The weeds are the people of the evil one...

Matthew 5.37 isn't clear. The NIV has tou ponērou as "evil one." But the ESV renders it as "evil" with no loss of meaning. In Matthew 12.35 we have tou ponērou describing treasure--tou ponērou treasure--which the KJV renders as "the evil treasure." Finally, in Matthew 13 we have the children/people of tou ponērou. All these translations have this as children/people/sons of the "evil/wicked one."

This last is interesting in that, as we saw above, when telling the Parable of the Sower in Matthew 13.19 Jesus uses the masculine ho ponēros to designate "the evil one." A few verses later, in verse 38, Jesus uses tou ponērou to describe the same object. This suggests, at least within the Parable of the Sower, that Matthew's use of tou ponērou is sliding toward the masculine usage. Consequently, if forced to guess about the use tou ponērou in the Lord's Prayer we might break toward "the evil one."

The phrase tou ponērou occurs in Luke twice (Luke 6.45, 11.4) in parallel passages to the Matthew texts. A different usage occurs in John 17.15:

John 17.15 (NIV)
My prayer is not that you take them out of the world but that you protect them from the evil one.

This prayer seems to echo the Lord's Prayer. The NIV, ASV, NLT and GNT keep their translations consistent with their Matthew 6.13 renderings, staying with "evil one" in both cases. By contrast, the KJV stays consistent with "evil" in both texts. Both the ESV and CEV make changes, going with "evil" in Matthew 6.13 and switching to "evil one" in John 17.15. In short, all the modern translations go with "evil one" in John 17.15 which again builds a case, given the parallels between the prayers in Matthew and John, for translating tou ponērou as "evil one" in the Lord's Prayer.

In the epistles tou ponērou occurs three times:

Ephesians 6:16
In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one.

2 Thessalonians 3.3
But the Lord is faithful, and he will strengthen you and protect you from the evil one

1 John 3:12
Do not be like Cain, who belonged to the evil one and murdered his brother. And why did he murder him? Because his own actions were evil and his brother’s were righteous.

2 Thess. 3.3 seems to echo the Lord's Prayer. Thus we find the now familiar diversity in how the translations render tou ponērou. The NIV, ASV, NLT, ESV and GNT all go with "evil one." The KJV stays consistent with "evil." The CEV does something interesting and goes with "harm." More about this choice below.

However, all these translations, given the context, go with "evil one" (or something similar like "the devil" or "the wicked one") for Eph. 6.16 and 1 John 3.12.

So what is the conclusion of the matter? As I assess the evidence, more often than not tou ponērou tips toward the singular masculine interpretation: "the evil one." More, I think this translation is in better keeping with the Christus Victor worldview of the New Testament writers.

That said, there is enough interpretive wiggle room for interpreters wanting to modernize the meaning. If "the devil" is an unattractive idea for many modern readers of the bible you can go with "deliver us from evil" in the Lord's Prayer. And most versions of the Lord's Prayer go in this direction.

But this is what I find most interesting. The word we have been kicking around--ponēros--comes from the root ponos (πόνος) which is the word for work or toil and, by association, suffering or anguish. This fits the context of Matthew 6.13: "Lead us not into trials, but deliver us from suffering/pain/anguish." This is why the CEV translates 2 Thessalonians 3.3 as "protect you from harm." Evil here is harm, pain and suffering.

Interestingly, this understanding fits the biblical depiction of "the evil one." The devil is the one who brings ponēros--harm, calamity, disease, hurt, suffering and pain. This fits with what we see Satan doing in the Book of Job and in Paul's thorn in the flesh, a suffering sent by a "messenger of Satan."

To be sure, when we see moral disease and brokenness the meaning of ponēros shades toward the ethical--sin, moral brokenness, wickedness. But the background meaning is broader--suffering, pain, hurt, harm, and brokenness. "The evil one" is the personification of all this pain, suffering and brokenness.

This suggests, to me at least, that there is a cosmic aspect to praying "deliver from the evil one." And why, perhaps, the generic term evil is just fine. Particularly if we focus on the root idea, that the universe is broken on a cosmic scale. We suffer. We hurt. We die. And we harm each other. More, life is tedious, full of toil and boredom. Again, the root idea behind ponēros is the suffering associated with toil and work. The malaise and dissatisfaction associated with working within modern economies is also wrapped up in the biblical notion of evil. There is a chronic suffering associated with the world of work.

All of this is implicated in the word ponēros. Everything is broken. Everything hurts. Everything is heavy.

We seek Shalom. Restoration. Reconciliation. Peace. Relief. Healing. Salvation.

And so we pray: Lord, deliver us from tou ponērou.

In the face of all this hurt, toil, suffering, pain and brokenness, may your Kingdom Come.

Many Christian traditions formally recognize seven Works of Mercy as obligations that every Christian must perform. The warrant for six of the Works of Mercy is found in Matthew 25.31-46. The seventh Work of Mercy--burying the dead--was later added based upon Tobit 1.16-17.

I've always been fond of Ade Bethune's artwork depicting the Works of Mercy. Bethune was the artist who created the banner for Dorothy Day's The Catholic Worker and was a regular contributor of artwork for its pages.

The Works of Mercy

Feeding the Hungry

Giving Drink to the Thirsty

Sheltering the Homeless

Clothing the Naked

Visiting the Prisoner

Visiting the Sick

Burying the Dead

These are the actions that define the Christian lifestyle.

The irony, of course, is that few Christians actually do any of this.

I think I'm one of the few academic bloggers in the world who blogs in a discipline that has nothing to do with what I teach at the university. Theology and this blog are my hobby. By profession I'm an experimental psychologist. Which means that my day job is largely about teaching undergraduate and graduate statistics for psychology students. That's what pays the rent.

In short, nothing I write about in this blog is a part of my daily classroom teaching. I've never taught a class in theology. I don't teach in our College of Biblical Studies. I have no contact with our MDiv students. In my entire career at ACU I've guest lectured in a graduate bible class exactly...once.

Basically, I'm living two lives.

But my interest in theology does, from time to time, leak into my statistics lectures. A recent example.

Earlier this semester in my undergraduate statistics class we were talking about measures of Central Tendency and how they behave in skewed frequency distributions. Let me explain this.

A measure of Central Tendency is a number helping you ballpark the "middle" or "center" of a distribution. The most commonly used estimate of Central Tendency is the mean, the arithmetic average. You calculate the mean by adding up all the scores and then dividing by the total number of scores.

The second most common measure of Central Tendency is the median. The median marks the 50th percentile. Fifty percent of the scores are above the median and fifty percent fall below the median.

When a distribution of scores is bell-shaped and balanced (a normal distribution) both the mean and the median sit in the exact center splitting the distribution right down the middle. That is, the mean and median are equal. See the center distribution in the picture below.

Well, if that's the case, if the mean and median have the same value, why have two different measures?

Because this only happens in perfectly symmetrical distributions. When the distribution is skewed and asymmetrical the mean and median take on different values. Which is to say when a distribution is unbalanced there's no consensus on where the "middle" might be located. You could say the middle is where the mean sits. Or you could say the middle is where the median sits.

Okay, so what issues might affect that choice? Well, the key thing to note is that the mean is the most sensitive to the effects of skew. That is, the mean is very sensitive to extreme scores and, thus, is "tugged" more rightward or leftward compared to the median. This can be seen in the left and right distributions of the picture below (Note: the Mode is a third measure of central tendency and is the most frequently occurring score, thus it always sits at the top/highest point of the distribution):

Note how in the left picture (an example of negative skew) the mean is the most leftward measure of central tendency. That is, the mean is the most affected by the extreme scores on the left and is, thus, pulled furthest away from where the scores are piling up to the right. A similar thing is observed in the right picture (an example of positive skew) where the mean has been tugged the furthest rightward.

What is the implication of all this? Basically the following. When a distribution is "normal" people usually report the mean. But when the distribution is skewed we tend to report the median as the median is less affected by the extreme scores.

So where does theology fit into this?

Well, as I was describing all this to my students a month ago I asked the following question:

"When you hear people report the average family income of American households do you hear people say 'mean family income' or 'median family income'?"

A few students respond, "I think I hear people say 'median family income'."

"That's right. The measure of Central Tendency we tend to use in reporting family income is the median. Okay, so what does that tell you about the distribution of family incomes?"

"That it's skewed?"

"Right. When you hear people using the median that's often a clue that the distribution they are trying to describe is skewed. And the distribution of family incomes in America is skewed."

I follow up with another question. "Can you guess if the distribution of American incomes is positively or negatively skewed?" (Refer to the picture above to make your own guess.)

"Is it positively skewed?"

"Yes, it's positively skewed. The great majority of American incomes pile up on the left, on the low end. But there are a few extreme scores--the millionaires and billionaires--that pull the distribution to the right."

I draw this distribution on the board. For you, here is the distribution of American family incomes based on 2005 data (H/T to Visualizing Economics):

Note the positive skew. Note also the behavior of the median and mean (you may need to click on the graph for a closer look). The median is $46,326. The mean is $64,344. Again, the mean is more affected by the presence of the extreme scores, being pulled more rightward by those millionaires and billionaires (who are actually so rightward they are literally off the chart).

Okay, again where is the theology in all this? Well, it has to do with issues related to social justice. I made this point in class a month ago in the following way:

"Note how American family incomes are all piled up on the left. What does that mean? What are the practical implications of that?

Think about it this way. What is the income that officially marks poverty? It's around $20,000. Okay, now imagine a solidly middle class person, someone who makes, say, $50,000.

Given that, what is the distance between the middle class and poverty? About $30,000. Is that a lot of money?

What if someone in the family has a catastrophic illness? Can the hospital bills from a catastrophic or chronic illness run over $30,000 in a year? Oh my yes. Hospital bills from illnesses like that can run in the hundreds of thousands of dollars annually.

And what about disability or injury to the breadwinner? Or divorce? Or layoffs?

Shoot, if your car breaks down you're screwed. Many new cars are well over $30,000. And a good used car can deplete that $30,000 buffer pretty quickly.

The point being, the lesson of the positive skew, is that the distance between being middle class and being poor is very, very small. We're all piled up on the left of the distribution. So a little bit of bad luck--illness, injury, layoffs, something going wrong with the house or car--and a solidly middle class family can fall below the poverty line. Can even become homeless. And if not that, can struggle mightily and will have to forgo things like sending their kids to college. A little bit of bad luck and a family might suffer generational consequences.

Now consider this. If the distance between the middle class and poverty is about $30,000 what is the distance between being middle class and, say, being Donald Trump or Bill Gates?

If the distance between middle class and poverty is $30,000 the distance between middle class and being a millionaire is $950,000. See the difference? There's not really a difference, a few thousand dollars, between the working poor and the middle class. We are all piled up, the great majority of Americans, on the left. And the difference between all those folks and the rich is, well, measured in the millions if not billions of dollars. It's a distance that is hard to compute in your mind.

In short, to be middle class is to live with chronic vulnerability and uncertainty. A real day to day anxiety about waiting for the other shoe to drop. Which is why access to things like universal health care and unemployment benefits are so important, a social safety net for those at or near the bottom. Which, the positive skew tells us, is basically everyone."

You are not big enough to accuse the whole age effectively, but let us say you are in dissent. You are in no position to issue commands, but you can speak words of hope. Shall this be the substance of your message? Be human in this most inhuman of ages; guard the image of man for it is the image of God. You agree? Good. Then go with my blessing. But I warn you, do not expect to make many friends...

--Thomas Merton, Raids on the Unspeakable

It was getting late
with the warm fuzz
of the wine
well worked into our minds
when the first sign
of the Kingdom of Heaven
occurred
in a back room
with only the paid help
as witnesses
and the quality
of the gift
passing unnoticed
because of our
intoxication.

I've recently been reading through the Rule of St. Benedict in anticipation of a series I might do. And when you read the Rule it's not uncommon to begin thinking about adding some monastic structure to your life, mainly about being more intentional in prayer and the reading of the Psalms.

So the other day I was kicking that around. Where in my day could I carve out 30 minutes for prayer? In the morning? Midday? At night? How about all three, praying at Lauds, Sext and Vespers?

And as I pondered this spiritual pursuit a thought drifted through my mind, "Why don't you just do the dishes for Jana everyday? Isn't that a better use of 30 minutes?"

I think this thought came to me for two reasons. The first, obviously, has to do with my own writings where I've argued that we use spirituality to replace being a better person. In this case I was indulging in a private spiritual fancy rather than helping out more around the house.

The second reason has to do with the Rule itself. Prayer isn't the only thing the Rule discusses. A large part of the Rule is in describing the various ways the monks are to take care of the monastery. And kitchen cleanup is a part of that.

All this to say, I eventually dropped my pursuit of a structured prayer time. I'm now using that time to do the dishes. Not that I've given up on prayer, it just remains an irregular practice. For God has called me, through the grace and power of the Holy Spirit, to do the dishes rather than to prayer.

This is, I believe, one of the few times where Jana has agreed with how I've discerned the spirits...

Recently, as a part of my The Slavery of Death series I wrote a critique of Peter Rollins's book Insurrection. Yesterday, Peter posted a response (I think because many of you tweeted at him) over at his blog. Head on over and check it out and share your impressions there or here (or both places).

The gist of my original post was that I couldn't find in Insurrection the necessary connection between the "death of god" (crucifixion, Part 1 of Insurrection) and the practices of love (resurrection, Part 2 of Insurrection). More specifically, why does the Deus ex Machina interfere with love? Why do we have to get rid of the Deus ex Machina for love to flow forth?

As I wrote in my original post, the only connection I could discern in Insurrection was that the Deus ex Machina promoted an otherworldly spirituality. Love is projected onto a god "out there" rather than being directed at flesh and blood people. This is the root of my critique in the Bait and Switch post.

So I agree that this is a problem. Otherworldliness is rampant in contemporary Christianity. As Stanley Hauerwas has noted, American spirituality is "too spiritual."

This is correct as far as it goes. I just don't think it goes deep enough. In my opinion, the deep problem with the Deus ex Machina isn't otherworldliness or existential infantalism (believing that God is the Benevolent Father in the Sky who will take care of us), though these are problems. My take is that I think these are surface level symptoms of the deeper disease, the runny nose rather than the virus itself. The real problem, in my opinion, are the biblical problems, the Christus Victor problems:

Sin. Death. The Devil. The Principalities and Powers.

As I read it, these are problems that don't show up a lot in Insurrection. What I think is lacking in Insurrection (surprise, surprise) is the very thing we are working through in the Slavery of Death series (and which I touch on a bit in The Authenticity of Faith): a robust theology of sin and the satanic, the roots of selfishness, rivalry, and violence.

1 John 3.8
The reason the Son of Man appeared was to destroy the works of the devil.

In summary, I don't think Rollins and I disagree at all on the surface level, that the "death" of the Deus ex Machina is necessary for love to be truly embraced. The difference, if there is one, and there might not be one, has to do with 1) how we specify the underlying machinery (the psychological dynamics at work), and 2) where the root problem is to be found. For Rollins the problem seems to be existential infantalism (the need for the Big Other). For me, that's a symptom a deeper problem: our slavery to the fear of death which produces the works of the devil in our lives. The Deus ex Machina in this case is less a cause than a symptom, a mask that is deployed (mostly unconsciously) to obscure the deeper dynamic.

What I can't tell is if these distinctions in our projects make much of a difference. There's considerable overlap. But I do think starting with the slavery to the fear of death as prior to the Deus ex Machina is a beginning place that has greater explanatory power and can incorporate more biblical, theological and psychological material.

Thoughts?

Over the weekend Jana and I got to catch the Gungor concert in Dallas. It was a belated Valentine's Day date.

It was a great concert. If you can, try to catch them on their tour which is just starting out.

Funny story about the concert. Although Jana and I weren't the oldest people at the concert we were in the top 2%. There were not a lot of 40-somethings.

Not that I'm particularly self-conscious about my age. It mainly had to do with walking into the venue and finding no chairs. No chairs! I'm sure this is typical at a lot of club venues, but it took us by surprise.

And here's the deal. I hate standing up. Hate. It. I try to sit down whenever I can. Jana isn't as philosophically opposed to standing as I am, but she doesn't like standing for long periods because it bothers her back. She's got a sensible physical reason for not liking to stand. My issues are more existential. Why stand when you can sit?

So the prospect of standing for four to five hours really knocked us for a loop. Jana is thinking about her back. I'm thinking about theodicy.

However, we spotted a long bench running alongside one wall. So we made for that and got a seat. But the trouble with this situation was that everyone would be standing in front of us and the stage was elevated. So seated here we wouldn't be able to see the band.

So we scan the room for other options. Jana spots a smaller stage to the left of the main stage. It was mostly full of tables, speakers and equipment. But there was a stack of chairs over there and some room in front of the equipment. What if we put those chairs out on the stage? Because this side stage was elevated and offered a great view of the main stage.

But would we be allowed to sit there? Would the staff chase us off the stage?

Not wanting to give up our seats along the wall, as crappy as they were, I crossed the room to set up some chairs on the sidestage creating Base Camp Bravo while Jana remained behind at Base Camp Alpha to hold our spots on the bench. As we were planning all this out the only other 40-something couple in the place overheard our plans and wanted to know if they could participate. Apparently, once you hit 40 you REALLY want to sit down. So, forming an alliance, me and the other guy head over and set out four chairs on the second stage. We sit down and wait to see if we'll get shooed away.

We wait until the concert is about to start and no one chases us off. More, about 20 other people follow our lead finding places to sit amongst the equipment on the second stage. Pulling the trigger I send word to Base Camp Alpha to pack up and come on over. The ladies fight through the crowd and make it to Base Camp Bravo on the second stage.

It all worked out. The old people had great seats. Jana's back was saved and I averted an existential crisis.

Beyond the awesomeness of Gungor the great discovery of the night was the opening band, The Brilliance. I strongly encourage you to check them out at their website and on iTunes. On their self-titled album The Brilliance stand out tracks include Breathe, Open Up, Mercy, Wounded Healer, and Christ Be With Me. On their Lent album standout tracks include Dust We Are And Shall Return, Now And At the Hour of Our Death, and Does Your Heart Break? From their Advent Vol. 1 album standout tracks include Light, Open Up (a different arrangement from The Brilliance album), and May You Find a Light.

The song Mercy from The Brilliance album may be the most beautiful, haunting, and theologically profound lament I have ever heard. And as a Winter Christian that's saying a lot. If you get the album or just the song, set some time aside to be alone with the best sound system you have. Get quiet and listen to Mercy.

Lyrics for Mercy from The Brilliance

When I think of God's great love
I think of Noah's time.
When love was not enough
and man was forced to die.
This God He sent the flood
to kill the race despised.
The children swept away.
I hear a mother's cry.

Mercy, Lord have mercy.
Mercy on me.
Every soul is searching for you.
Won't you save us?
Grant us peace.

O distant God above,
why do you make us blind?
With eyes that cannot see
we seek but do not find.
And if you are so near
why are you standing by
when peace has been long lost?
Please hear your children cry.

Mercy, Lord have mercy.
Mercy on me.
Every soul is searching for you.
Won't you save us?
Grant us peace.

Kyrie, eleison.
Kyrie, eleison.
Kyrie, eleison...

I'm a Netflix subscriber so from time to time I'll surf through their selection of streaming videos to see if I can find anything good (I usually can't). Once in a while I'll look through the Anime movies as I've enjoyed a few sci-fi Anime movies in the past.

It's hard to tell if a movie is any good so I spend time reading the Netflix member reviews. And as I surfed the Anime movies I kept seeing sentences like this in the reviews:

Great movie if you can live with all the fan service.

Lots of fan service if you're into that.

Awesome! Tons of fan service!!!!!

Reading reviews like this I wondered to myself, "What in the world is fan service?"

Fan service, I discovered, are things added to Anime movies to titillate viewers, generally male viewers. Fan service is "giving the fans what they want." For the most part this means drawing female Anime characters with large breasts and short skirts. It also includes nudity and graphic violence.

What is key here is that none of this has any relevance to the plot. It's just "eye candy" to push the visual buttons of the viewer. It's "servicing the fan," not advancing the story. Here's the current top Urban Dictionary definition of fan service:

In general, fan service refers to scenes designed to excite or titillate the viewer...Basically, if it has little plot-redeeming value, but makes the viewer sit up and take notice, it's probably fan service in one form or another.

Having found all this out I can now navigate Netflix in a more informed manner, generally staying clear of movies with reviews mentioning a lot of fan service.

But fan service as a concept has stuck in my mind.

And the other day I began to wonder about fan service at church.

To be clear, I'm not talking about nudity and short skirts at church. I'm talking about the root idea of fan service: adding something that "pleases" (servicing the fans, giving the people what they want) that has nothing to do with advancing the plot.

Let me give a simple example. In the adult bible class I help teach on Sunday mornings at church we have coffee and donuts. That's fan service. People like having coffee and donuts in class so we provide them. But coffee and donuts don't have anything to do with the mission of the church. Coffee and donuts don't help advance the story/plot of the Kingdom of God.

Now there is nothing wrong with coffee and donuts. I sure like having them both in class. I'm just illustrating how the concept of fan service might be applied to church. Such an application opens up a lot of interesting questions. Specifically, how much of church life is devoted to fan service? How much of the physical environment, the worship, the programs/classes, etc. can be considered fan service? That is, how much of what is going on at a given church is devoted to "giving the people what they want" rather than advancing the story of the Kingdom?

Because it seems to me that a lot of churches are so beholden to American consumerism that they are almost wholly given over to fan service, if only to attract the "spiritual shopper."

Everything is created to give the people what they want. Church as fan service.

For those of you interested in the conversation regarding universal reconciliation, particularly from an evangelical perspective, I want to make you aware of the Evangelical Universalist Forum featuring Gregory MacDonald (Robin Parry) and Thomas Talbott. Parry and Talbott are two of the leading thinkers regarding universal reconciliation having written two of the "must read" books on this subject--Parry's The Evangelical Universalist and Talbott's The Inescapable Love of God.

I was honored when the good folks at the EU Forum asked me to join the forum as one of their Featured Guests alongside Parry, Talbott and others.

I'm just getting started at the EU Forum with a few threads up about neuroscience, the prophetic imagination, and how proponents of universal reconciliation read the bible. There's also a place where people can ask me questions.

If you're interested in the conversation concerning universal reconciliation the EU Forum would be a good place to hang out.

First, a confession.

I'm not the best at responding to blog comments. For that I apologize. I'm not horrible, but I'm not as good at responding as I'd like to be.

There are two reasons about why this is the case.

The first has to do with the speed at which my blog moves and the kind of posts I write. Given that I try to post every weekday, the minute one post goes up I'm already hard at work on the next post. Consequently, any given day my attention is mainly on writing the next day's post. In my mind I'm always one day ahead of the blog. Yes, I do read all the comments. But more often than not when I have a moment I'm writing the next post rather than weighing in on the post live on the blog.

Happily, there is a strong contingent of regular readers here who ably add to and expand upon anything I write. More, when people ask questions ya'll jump in with answers. Everyday I'm grateful for how you collaborate and participate in the comments.

So that's the main reason I'm not as active in the comments as I'd like. The second reason has to do with the subject of this post. And it has to do with dumbfounding.

If you've read Unclean or The Authenticity of Faith you know I've been thinking a lot about how dumbfounding affects groups. For example, in a recent post I used dumbfounding to analyze why groups, like churches, get into fights about appropriate dress.

To review, dumbfounding (discovered by psychologist Jonathan Haidt) occurs when people make normative judgments based upon their feelings and then struggle to produce reasons for those judgments.

Dumbfounding takes its cue from the thought of David Hume who famously argued that "reason is the slave of the passions." The argument here is that emotions are primary. We feel before we think. Thinking, in this instance, is more about post hoc justification than a process of discernment.

This very different from how we think things should work. We tend to think our feelings follow our reasons. We like to think, when faced with a judgment we have to make, that we reason things out and then respond, emotionally and behaviorally. Deliberation and reasons come first followed by feelings and actions. We discern something to be bad and, in light of that discernment, feel moral outrage well up within us.

But it doesn't really work that way. According to Hume it's the other way around. Feelings come first. We feel the moral outrage and, in light of those feelings, go in search of reasons as to why. Thinking, in this instance, isn't producing our outrage but is being used to explain the existence of our feelings, to ourselves and our neighbors.

Here's the practical import of all this: Reasons aren't persuasive. Reasons are self-justifications.

And this explains why I struggle with certain comments on the blog (and on other blogs). Particularly comments disagreeing with me.

To be clear, I'm not saying that when people disagree with me they don't have good reasons or solid arguments. It's just that I don't find those arguments persuasive. Largely, and this is key, for a host of emotional reasons. Consequently, until I feel differently about things, until my affections change, exchanging self-justifications in the comments section of a blog isn't going to move the conversation forward. It's a dumbfounding situation.

We've all experienced this or seen it happen in blog conversations. Like many of you I've engaged in a lot of blog debates over the years and I've never seen two people who have disagreed sharply on an issue reach an agreement by the end of the exchange. And more often than not, rather than bringing people closer together these conversations tend to deteriorate. And why is that? It's because we are dumbfounded. Things get emotional because beneath all the verbal give and take there is a set strong feelings sitting close to the surface that regularly spills over.

So at the end of the day if you and I disagree strongly I'm not sure we have a whole lot to say to each other. I'm not trying to be dismissive in saying that. I'm making an empirical prediction.

Consider an example. Let's talk about our current President. Is he doing a good job? Imagine two people with strong feelings on the subject, someone who thinks he's doing a horrible job and someone who thinks he is doing a great job (or the best job anyone could do). Do we really think these two individuals can objectively exchange reasons and data that could convince the other?

No way.

And if that's the case, why bother arguing about it on a blog?

That said, I do think there are people on the fence. People with no firm opinions. Seekers. People who at a particular time in life, due to their life experiences, feel their affections changing. I'll respond to the questions of seekers. And you can sense this openness pretty quickly in a comment/er. By contrast, I will tend to leave outright disagreement alone.

Beyond the dumbfounding research, my choice here is informed by the work of William James, particularly his essay "The Will to Believe."

In the essay James talks about hypotheses (positions and arguments we might offer to each other in these blog debates) being, using a electrical metaphor, either live or dead options for us. James describing this:

Let us give the name of hypothesis to anything that may be proposed to our belief; and just as the electricians speak of live and dead wires, let us speak of any hypothesis as either live or dead. A live hypothesis is one which appeals as a real possibility to him to whom it is proposed. If I ask you to believe in the Mahdi, the notion makes no electric connection with your nature--it refuses to scintillate with any credibility at all. As an hypothesis it is completely dead. To an Arab, however (even if he be not one of the Mahdi's followers), the hypothesis is among the mind's possibilities: it is alive. This show the deadness and liveness in an hypothesis are not intrinsic properties, but relations to the individual thinker.

Our emotions are hugely implicated in how ideas become alive or dead to us. And you can sense in an argument the degree to which the other person is "live" to the position or argument you are offering. By contrast, when you sense the person is "dead" to the idea I'd say it's time to move on.

And to be confessional, what's good for the goose is good for the gander. I'll readily admit to being "dead" to a host of ideas. For example, I'm pretty "dead" to Calvinism. Nothing in it attracts me, emotionally or intellectually. Calvinism does not "scintillate with any credibility" in my heart or mind. So yes, I admit, I'm pretty hard to talk to or convince on that score.

But this isn't to say that I don't want dissent registered on the blog. Dissent reminds everyone that there are many sides to an issue. And that's important to prevent the creation of echo chambers.

And to be sure Hume wasn't 100% correct. Many of us make decisions based upon rational deliberation. More, these reasons are often used to battle our emotional and knee-jerk reactions. Ideas previously dead to us can come to life.

But then again, I still think this has more to do with emotional maturity than with anything else. Wisdom is learning to hold your feelings in abeyance to give yourself time to think, listen and learn. You can't think well if you can't control your emotions. Emotional self-control is a prerequisite to critical thinking.

At the end of the day, this is what I think about strong blog disagreements. I think we aren't really disagreeing. We just feel differently about things. About God. About government. About moral issues and hot-button topics (and emotions are why they are called hot). About all sorts of stuff.

You feel one way and I feel another way. And that about sums it up.

I'm going to try and see if I might write a few poems about the life of Jesus. These attempts will show up under the heading "The Jesus Poems." So, to start, a poem entitled "Incarnation":

In the beginning
was a bastard.
Or so rumored.
Voices carried
on a Nazarene breeze,
from shadowy doorways,
down dusty streets.
The gift
of a small town.
And an ancestry
of prostitutes
and murderers.
All this--
the emptying
the pouring out
the lowering
the descent--
kenosis and condescension.
The Incarnation.
The Word made flesh
in that boy walking by
under whispers.