Quotes & Sayings


We, and creation itself, actualize the possibilities of the God who sustains the world, towards becoming in the world in a fuller, more deeper way. - R.E. Slater

There is urgency in coming to see the world as a web of interrelated processes of which we are integral parts, so that all of our choices and actions have [consequential effects upon] the world around us. - Process Metaphysician Alfred North Whitehead

Kurt Gödel's Incompleteness Theorem says (i) all closed systems are unprovable within themselves and, that (ii) all open systems are rightly understood as incomplete. - R.E. Slater

The most true thing about you is what God has said to you in Christ, "You are My Beloved." - Tripp Fuller

The God among us is the God who refuses to be God without us, so great is God's Love. - Tripp Fuller

According to some Christian outlooks we were made for another world. Perhaps, rather, we were made for this world to recreate, reclaim, redeem, and renew unto God's future aspiration by the power of His Spirit. - R.E. Slater

Our eschatological ethos is to love. To stand with those who are oppressed. To stand against those who are oppressing. It is that simple. Love is our only calling and Christian Hope. - R.E. Slater

Secularization theory has been massively falsified. We don't live in an age of secularity. We live in an age of explosive, pervasive religiosity... an age of religious pluralism. - Peter L. Berger

Exploring the edge of life and faith in a post-everything world. - Todd Littleton

I don't need another reason to believe, your love is all around for me to see. – Anon

Thou art our need; and in giving us more of thyself thou givest us all. - Khalil Gibran, Prayer XXIII

Be careful what you pretend to be. You become what you pretend to be. - Kurt Vonnegut

Religious beliefs, far from being primary, are often shaped and adjusted by our social goals. - Jim Forest

We become who we are by what we believe and can justify. - R.E. Slater

People, even more than things, need to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed; never throw out anyone. – Anon

Certainly, God's love has made fools of us all. - R.E. Slater

An apocalyptic Christian faith doesn't wait for Jesus to come, but for Jesus to become in our midst. - R.E. Slater

Christian belief in God begins with the cross and resurrection of Jesus, not with rational apologetics. - Eberhard Jüngel, Jürgen Moltmann

Our knowledge of God is through the 'I-Thou' encounter, not in finding God at the end of a syllogism or argument. There is a grave danger in any Christian treatment of God as an object. The God of Jesus Christ and Scripture is irreducibly subject and never made as an object, a force, a power, or a principle that can be manipulated. - Emil Brunner

“Ehyeh Asher Ehyeh” means "I will be that who I have yet to become." - God (Ex 3.14) or, conversely, “I AM who I AM Becoming.”

Our job is to love others without stopping to inquire whether or not they are worthy. - Thomas Merton

The church is God's world-changing social experiment of bringing unlikes and differents to the Eucharist/Communion table to share life with one another as a new kind of family. When this happens, we show to the world what love, justice, peace, reconciliation, and life together is designed by God to be. The church is God's show-and-tell for the world to see how God wants us to live as a blended, global, polypluralistic family united with one will, by one Lord, and baptized by one Spirit. – Anon

The cross that is planted at the heart of the history of the world cannot be uprooted. - Jacques Ellul

The Unity in whose loving presence the universe unfolds is inside each person as a call to welcome the stranger, protect animals and the earth, respect the dignity of each person, think new thoughts, and help bring about ecological civilizations. - John Cobb & Farhan A. Shah

If you board the wrong train it is of no use running along the corridors of the train in the other direction. - Dietrich Bonhoeffer

God's justice is restorative rather than punitive; His discipline is merciful rather than punishing; His power is made perfect in weakness; and His grace is sufficient for all. – Anon

Our little [biblical] systems have their day; they have their day and cease to be. They are but broken lights of Thee, and Thou, O God art more than they. - Alfred Lord Tennyson

We can’t control God; God is uncontrollable. God can’t control us; God’s love is uncontrolling! - Thomas Jay Oord

Life in perspective but always in process... as we are relational beings in process to one another, so life events are in process in relation to each event... as God is to Self, is to world, is to us... like Father, like sons and daughters, like events... life in process yet always in perspective. - R.E. Slater

To promote societal transition to sustainable ways of living and a global society founded on a shared ethical framework which includes respect and care for the community of life, ecological integrity, universal human rights, respect for diversity, economic justice, democracy, and a culture of peace. - The Earth Charter Mission Statement

Christian humanism is the belief that human freedom, individual conscience, and unencumbered rational inquiry are compatible with the practice of Christianity or even intrinsic in its doctrine. It represents a philosophical union of Christian faith and classical humanist principles. - Scott Postma

It is never wise to have a self-appointed religious institution determine a nation's moral code. The opportunities for moral compromise and failure are high; the moral codes and creeds assuredly racist, discriminatory, or subjectively and religiously defined; and the pronouncement of inhumanitarian political objectives quite predictable. - R.E. Slater

God's love must both center and define the Christian faith and all religious or human faiths seeking human and ecological balance in worlds of subtraction, harm, tragedy, and evil. - R.E. Slater

In Whitehead’s process ontology, we can think of the experiential ground of reality as an eternal pulse whereby what is objectively public in one moment becomes subjectively prehended in the next, and whereby the subject that emerges from its feelings then perishes into public expression as an object (or “superject”) aiming for novelty. There is a rhythm of Being between object and subject, not an ontological division. This rhythm powers the creative growth of the universe from one occasion of experience to the next. This is the Whiteheadian mantra: “The many become one and are increased by one.” - Matthew Segall

Without Love there is no Truth. And True Truth is always Loving. There is no dichotomy between these terms but only seamless integration. This is the premier centering focus of a Processual Theology of Love. - R.E. Slater

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Note: Generally I do not respond to commentary. I may read the comments but wish to reserve my time to write (or write off the comments I read). Instead, I'd like to see our community help one another and in the helping encourage and exhort each of us towards Christian love in Christ Jesus our Lord and Savior. - re slater

Showing posts with label Deconstructing Our Expectations. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Deconstructing Our Expectations. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Nietzsche Understood Regret as a Good Thing vs. the "Feel Good" YOLO industry of Avoiding Reflective Action


Miley Cyrus, circa 2013; Friedrich Nietzsche, circa 1887. (Photos: Debby Wong/Everett Historical/Shutterstock/Pacific Standard)


The Psychology (and Philosophy) of ‘No Regrets’
http://www.psmag.com/health-and-behavior/its-our-party-we-can-do-what-we-want-until-we-die-so-lead-a-meaningful-life-okay

April 17, 2015

A clinical psychologist argues that Nietzsche is better than any pop self-health book.

From 2012 to 2014, it seemed America’s mantra had nothing to do with any sort of “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness” mumbo jumbo, or even “liberty and justice for all.” For two years, American stood for something simpler: YOLO. Born around 2004 and short for “you only live once,” YOLO is the late capitalist predecessor of carpe diem, the rallying cry of a Millennial culture tired and frustrated with burdens of the economic crisis and the constant nagging of doddering New York Times op-ed columns.

While the sentiment may be admirable, the term has been misused and overwrought. YOLO has essentially become the over-used watchword for every toxic manifestation of masculinity looking to throw off the crushing yoke of personal responsibility. But, at its core, YOLO is also the current manifestation of a fundamental human sentiment: I want to live my life without regret.

Psychologically, humans have been struggling with the experience of regret for as long as anyone can remember. Regret appeared as an essential question of the human condition as early as two thousand years ago, in the dogma of Epicureanism. But our modern American culture has a complicated relationship with regret. Namely, regret has become a stigma of sorts. “It’s regarded as self-indulgent and irrational—a ‘useless’ feeling,” explains Carina Chocano in Aeon:

We prefer utilitarian emotions, those we can use as vehicles for transformation, and closure.... Regret is so counter to the pioneer spirit—with its belief in blinkered perseverance, and dogged forward motion—it’s practically un-American. In the US, you keep your squint firmly planted on the horizon and put one foot in front of the other.

The twin forces of American industriousness and modern YOLO culture have bred a society that abandons regret at every turn. But for psychologist Edward Chang, there’s a path forward: Americans need to drop the siren song of Kesha and Miley Cyrus and bone up on their Friedrich Nietzsche. A clinical psychologist with a philosophical streak, Chang heads up the Perfectionism and Optimism-Pessimism Lab at the University of Michigan, where he leads a team of researchers in a quest to understand how intangible emotional orientations like optimism, pessimism, and loneliness interact with different cultures across the world. Pacific Standard spoke to Chang about the nature of regret and what our modern culture could learn from Nietzsche about living with our mistakes.


How exactly do you define regret?

I have to break down the idea of regret into two parcels: the psychological, and more of the philosophical and cultural. There’s a general consensus on a definition for regret that most people won’t find controversial: a negative emotional reaction to a moment when we feel like we could have chosen otherwise, and that other choice would have been more beneficial to us.

A lot of researchers in psychology have defined the experience of regret in more nuanced ways, but they all tend to show a fairly common pattern. If you experience these pangs of regret, that experience is often associated with a host and range of negative psychological outcomes, from greater anxiety to depression to suicidal ideation in some extreme cases. This is what forms the foundation of the psychology of regret: If you’re the sort of person who has a great deal of regret in your life, and you’ve accumulated this grief as you’re growing older, you’re likely to be at high risk for maladjustment or depression.


This seems pretty straightforward. Is there anything new about the current philosophy of no regrets?

I have a young daughter who listens to music, and there’s a song out there by Kesha called “Die Young.” It’s about teenagers and living the night like it’s the last night of their lives. We find this theme everywhere in our history and culture. Think of Dead Poets Society, with its emphasis on the notion of carpe diem. There’s a tendency in human civilization to put an emphasis on living for that day, to its fullest. It extends back to ancient Greece, where citizens never had a notion of “human beings,” but of “mortals” and “immortals.” If you read any text from the ancient world, they all center on how a human being can live like the gods, forever. It’s this notion of mortality, embedded in us by religion, that drives not just aspiration, but also fuels a cycle of regret—a sense that no matter how hard you try, you’ll fail to live like the gods.

It was Nietzsche who really wanted to develop a coherent philosophy of “no regrets.” This starts, really, with Nietzsche’s “formula” for human greatness and the principle of amor fati, or “love of [one’s] fate.” Nietzsche wrote that

“My formula for greatness in a human being is amor fati: that one wants nothing
to be different, not forward, not backward, not in all eternity. Not merely bear
what  is necessary, still less conceal it—all idealism is mendaciousness in the
face of what is necessary—but love it.”

Nietzsche was struggling with the question, driven by the specter of mortality, with how humans should live a good life. He had two extreme positions in front of him:

  • the ancient ascetic position (stoicism), which dictates that to live a good life you must forgo human desire,
and
  • the more hedonistic carpe diem philosophy ["live for the day"] that we see crop up in pop culture.

But really, Nietzsche wasn’t arguing for either position. When he talks about amor fati, there’s a higher level of uber-morality going on there, that goes beyond carpe diem or asceticism, that’s really asking us to embrace our mortality rather than shy from it with regret.


So I guess Nietzsche was the originator of YOLO, then?

Sort of. In a way, amor fati and the “will to power” aren’t just abstract philosophy; I’d argue that Nietzsche is actually one of the first and most powerful psychologists. Nietzsche asks:

"How am I going to get people to wake up from their day-to-day habits,
the iron cage of daily life that makes us creatures of comfortable habit,
and how should we be truly living our lives?"

The vehicle for people to wake themselves up and change their lives, Nietzsche says, is regret. In reality, the YOLO and carpe diem culture is a misinterpretation of the “will to power” that made him famous. I’ve seen so many pop psychology books that suggest abandoning regret to live a good life; purging regret from your thought process. But none of these books have the backbone that Nietzsche did, to advocate that we face our mortality and the certainty of regret as a motivation for changing your life.

Nietzsche has laid out a two-pronged attack against regret:

1 - If you choose wrong, forget about it, just accept it and love it.

2 - From this point on, live with constant awareness of your mortality.


So instead of living without regret, we should be embracing it?

The problem is that we don’t always realize this until we’re truly faced with our own mortality, like an acute or chronic health condition. And even when we try to achieve a good life and fail, it’s a question of embracing that failure, and reassuring yourself that you’re living intentionally and with purpose. Psychologically, that’s a smart and healthy way to process regret. It’s by embracing it that you learn to live a life without it.

Even more frustrating, American society doesn’t necessarily support this idea of embracing regret. From an early age, we have these great ambitions, but we tell ourselves that we’ll live that life 30 or 40 years from now. But by the time we’ve reached that point, that life isn’t available to us: We’re tired, we’re old, and we’re laden with regret that is immutable. We live in a society built around the idea of delayed gratification, and we’ve lost our ability to really use regret to bootstrap ourselves out of this manufactured comfort zone.


What are the big cultural differences in how we experience regret?

The perceived lack of control over your life is one major force underpinning our experience of regret: It’s premised on the assumption that we actually have the power to choose otherwise [sic, pessimism]. I’m not sure if psychological research has captured that. [Editor's note: Research comparing regret across different cultures show varying differences in the subjective experience of the emotional reaction.] My sense is that you’ll find higher instances of regret in cultures where there’s a presumption that people actually have more control over their lives. In some cultures, say, India, where the caste system remains deeply embedded in day-to-day life, notions of regret aren’t as salient in shaping psychological well-being.

There are pluses and minuses to this. You don’t necessarily have a culture of people trying to transform their lives outside of these rigid classes, so there’s less broader social improvement driven by an individual desire for self-improvement. Even in totalitarian countries, as long as people believe they have some sense of control over their lives, I’m sure we’d see significant levels of regret.


But universally, it seems like mortality is the key here. Our culture is full of anecdotes about those who dodged death turning over a new leaf.

So many times we hear of someone developing late-stage cancer or some other sickness and saying “Oh my goodness, the things I wanted to do, or should have done!” Why wait that long? The effort for Nietzsche is to give everyone a dose of what it means to be mortal, and regret is the vehicle by which we confront our own mortality—and move past it.

This is Nietzsche’s prescription on how to live a life of no regrets, but keep in mind that it’s not hedonistic; this is a significantly more sophisticated question than just extreme pleasure. They’re all existential, philosophical questions about what it means to be a human being, to have a good and moral existence, not just the biological impulses to mate and procreate. It’s the search, the hunger, that Nietzsche is trying to answer.

A lot of psychological research in therapy suggests that it’s really mindfulness that helps deal with depression, suicide, and other negative ideation. Isn’t that interesting?

Nietzsche would probably have predicted that anything that got people to stop and take stock of their lives would have some inherent psychological value. Indeed, were finding in scientific literature that mindfulness can get people to accept their flaws and mistakes and move past regret, but also be more lucid about the world they live in and how they build that world with others. It’s interesting that the therapies that work now are really made up of ingredients of Nietzsche would have proposed in his formula had be been a modern-day psychologist.


It feels like there’s two competing methods of dealing with regret here: The guided clinical version, which you’ve described, and the YOLO/die young mentality. What’s the relationship between the two?

In some ways, the pop culture that’s funneling notions of “let’s die young, let’s live it up tonight”—Nietzsche might say that this is an excuse. It’s definitely a mental gain, a hyped-up alternative to dwelling on past (or future) mistakes, and that’s fine if it gives people the motivation to pull the trigger. But with this sort of mantra, there’s a high chance you’ll actually end up doing something you regret—and that’s kind of going in the exact opposite direction, isn’t it? Even if you come to embrace “living fast and leaving a beautiful corpse,” that’s veering more into the world of nihilism than it is intentional, thoughtful, deliberate living.


What would you tell people about how to live with regret?

If I were to provide guidelines to pursue amor fati, it would be for people to realize and accept that there are some things we lack ultimate control over. There is a fine balance between teaching children the difference between having and not having control. We tell kids they can be president or an astronaut, but at the same time they live under the complete control of their parents, and it creates a very odd, strange equilibrium with regards to how kids develop a sense of agency and, in turn, how they experience regret.

On an adult level, how do we want to embolden children to feel a sense of control, but also develop this meta-cognitive awareness? There are cases when people are diagnosed with a fatal disease and come to terms with their mortality, but it’s tough to expose the average person to; they’ll simply retreat into their comfortable world. This fast-paced world is built on connection, on business, on the go-go-go, where we’re constantly trying to produce more innovation and succeed. When does anyone ever have a moment to reflect on their own mortality, to come to terms with the life they live?

Are Americans hungry enough for this? Are we reaching a psychological breaking point?

Anthropologist Lionel Tiger, currently at Rutgers, has this theory that he calls the “manufacture of evil,” where he gets at the idea that society is in “a terrible tangle of moral, ethical, and social confusion,” and that we’re creating the means of our own social chaos. Technology is out of control, changes in the economy are out of control, and we’re acclimating as best we can, but often that’s not enough.

There’s a hunger for getting this information. How can we cultivate an American culture that keeps our ingenuity and our innovation but allows us to pursue these questions? Maybe it’s a question of education. Perhaps early on, we talk to young adults and cultivate a sense of what it means to live a good life in the social context. We don’t have anything like that—it doesn’t add to GDP, so why would we? People should be able to say, at that last moment, that “yes, I did it, and I’m OK with what I’ve done.”

The problem is that there is a desire for that time to live thoughtfully and deliberately. Perhaps this is why we see questions of vacation coming up as a major labor issue. But in the bigger picture, even if there is a need or a want, there’s an entire industry to package and reframe regret as part of our national growth machine.

The YOLO industry is part of this. It’s selling a way of handling regret without inducing the introspection and reflection that can actually put us on the path for a better life.

Perhaps we’re in a psychological bubble. We’re going to reach a point where it’ll pop. But at that point will we actually realize a greater connection to humanity?



Disney Delusions and Regrets:

"Frozen - A Musical feat. Disney Princesses"
(may stop at marker 2:15 to skip production promotion)





Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Richard Beck - The Purity Culture of Progressive Christianity, Parts 1 & 2




The Purity Culture of Progressive Christianity, Part 1 of 2
http://experimentaltheology.blogspot.com/2015/03/the-purity-culture-of-progressive.html?m=1

by Richard Beck
March 9, 2015

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. --Thomas Merton

We've all read about the problems related to the purity culture associated with evangelicalism. But recently I've been thinking about the purity culture that is found in liberal, progressive and/or radical Christian circles.

My thoughts here were spurred by the essay written by Aurora Dagny entitled "Everything is Problematic."

As someone who identifies as a progressive Christian I found Aurora's essay to be very thought-provoking. The essay describes Aurora's journey into radical, leftist activism and the reasons she eventually stepped away. If you're a progressive Christian like me I encourage you to read the whole thing.

The one thing I want to draw attention to his how a purity mentality ran through the leftist and radical groups Aurora worked with. Interestingly, this purity mentality was oriented around a set of "sacred beliefs"--an "orthodoxy." This is exactly what you see among evangelical Christians. More, this orthodoxy is used to separate "the good guys" from "the bad guys." Beliefs create warrants for social exclusion, expulsion and scapegoating.

Aurora describing this:

One way to define the difference between a regular belief and a sacred belief is that people who hold sacred beliefs think it is morally wrong for anyone to question those beliefs. If someone does question those beliefs, they’re not just being stupid or even depraved, they’re actively doing violence. They might as well be kicking a puppy. When people hold sacred beliefs, there is no disagreement without animosity. In this mindset, people who disagreed with my views weren’t just wrong, they were awful people. I watched what people said closely, scanning for objectionable content. Any infraction reflected badly on your character, and too many might put you on my blacklist. Calling them ‘sacred beliefs’ is a nice way to put it. What I mean to say is that they are dogmas.

Thinking this way quickly divides the world into an ingroup and an outgroup — believers and heathens, the righteous and the wrong-teous. “I hate being around un-rad people,” a friend once texted me, infuriated with their liberal roommates. Members of the ingroup are held to the same stringent standards. Every minor heresy inches you further away from the group. People are reluctant to say that anything is too radical for fear of being been seen as too un-radical. Conversely, showing your devotion to the cause earns you respect. Groupthink becomes the modus operandi. When I was part of groups like this, everyone was on exactly the same page about a suspiciously large range of issues. Internal disagreement was rare. The insular community served as an incubator of extreme, irrational views.

High on their own supply, activists in these organizing circles end up developing a crusader mentality: an extreme self-righteousness based on the conviction that they are doing the secular equivalent of God’s work. It isn’t about ego or elevating oneself. In fact, the activists I knew and I , [myself], tended to denigrate ourselves more than anything. It wasn’t about us, it was about the desperately needed work we were doing, it was about the people we were trying to help. The danger of the crusader mentality is that it turns the world in a battle between good and evil.

---

What is fascinating to me is how this is the exact same psychological dynamic at work among conservative, evangelical Christians. It's just the progressive version of it.

And this "will to purity" doesn't just manifest in protecting sacred beliefs, it manifests in behavior as well. Both evangelical and progressive Christians doggedly pursue a vision of moral purity.

For evangelical Christians moral purity will fixate on hedonism (e.g., sex, drug use, etc.).

For progressive Christians moral purity will fixate on complicity in injustice. To be increasingly "pure" in progressive Christian circles is to become less and less complicit in injustice. Thus there is an impulse toward a more and more radical lifestyle where, eventually, you find yourself feeling that "everything is problematic." You can't do anything without contaminating yourself.

To be clear, I'm not judging any of this. I'm simply trying to trace out the contours of the purity culture at work among progressive Christians. Mainly because I think many progressive Christians have become burnt out by this psychology. Progressive Christians have become burnt out by the chronic anger produced by the "good vs. evil" Crusader mentality and burnt out by the chronic exhaustion of living in a world where "everything is problematic."

For most of us, the vision of progressive Christianity--as we took up the banner of social justice--started out so hopeful and joyous.

But for far too many, in the words of Aurora, the purity culture of progressive Christianity caused it all to "metastasize into a nightmare."

---

Richard Beck is Professor and Chair of the Department of Psychology at Abilene Christian University. He is the author of several books including Unclean, The Authenticity of Faith, and The Slavery of Death. Richard's published research also covers topics as diverse as the psychology of profanity to why Christian bookstore art is so bad. Richard also leads a bible study each week for fifty inmates at the maximum security French-Robertson unit. And any given week Richard drives the van, preaches or washes dishes at Freedom Fellowship, a church plant feeding and reaching out to those on the margins. Finally, on his popular blog Experimental Theology Richard will spend enormous amounts of time writing about the theology of Johnny Cash, the demonology of Scooby-Doo or his latest bible class on monsters.




* * * * * * * * * *




The Purity Psychology of Progressive Christianity: Scrupulosity, Part 2 of 2
http://experimentaltheology.blogspot.com/2015/03/the-purity-psychology-of-progressive.html

by Richard Beck
March 17, 2015

After my posts from last week I continue to have a lot of conversations about how purity psychology affects various impulses within progressive Christianity. My original post is here which has a link at the bottom to some follow-up reflections.

In light of the analyses I shared in those posts, a very interesting connection with Catholic moral theology was pointed out to me yesterday by Leah Libresco who blogs at"Unequally Yoked" for the Patheos Catholic channel.

Specifically, Leah pointed out some similarities between my descriptions of the purity psychology at work among progressive Christians and the Catholic notion of scrupulosity. According to Catholic moral teaching scrupulosity involves persistent worries about being in a state of sin.

These worries can be due to a lot of things, from being extraordinarily conscientious to having a very sensitive or tender conscience to something that is more pathological (like Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder or Generalized Anxiety Disorder).

Psychologically speaking, I think Leah is right in connecting scrupulosity to intrusive thoughts and even to what the Eastern Orthodox call logismoi, evil, or tempting thoughts. For the Orthodox logismoi are intrusive mental temptations such as lust and greed and pride. In scrupulosity the intrusive thoughts are persistent and nagging worries that we've done something wrong.

In Catholic moral teaching scrupulosity has generally been connected to worries about committing a mortal sin and falling out of a state of grace. Mortal sins are, generally speaking, severe or chronic failures of piety.

But what is interesting for our purposes is how Leah has observed scrupulosity at work in issues related to altruism. That is to say, among compassionate Catholics scrupulosity can manifest in worries about how to do the right or best things for others. Paralleling my analysis, Leah traces this wanting-to-do-good scrupulosity to a purity psychology.

In her post "Purity, Anxiety and Effective Altruism" Leah focuses on the worries many of us feel about making sure the monies we send to charities are being used effectively and with minimal waste. We want our money, most if not all of our money, to get into the hands of those who need it. But when we start evaluating the effectiveness of charities and how best to use our money in alleviating suffering worldwide we can fall down a rabbit-hole. In wanting to do the right thing and the best thing we can encounter, to use Leah's words, "analysis paralysis." Regarding all these worries about trying to do the right thing Leah writes:

...I came up with a speculative hypothesis about what might drive this kind of reaction to Effective Altruism. While people were sharing stories about their friends, some of their anxious behaviors and thoughts sounded akin to Catholic scrupulosity. One of the more exaggerated examples of scrupulosity is a Catholic who gets into the confessional, lists his/her sins, receives absolution, and then immediately gets back into line, worried that she did something wrong in her confession, and should now confess that error.

Both of these obviously bear some resemblance to anxiety/OCD, period, but I was interested in speculating a little about why...Taking a cue from the psychologist Jonathan Haidt, Leah traces this altruism-related scrupulosity to purity psychology: "My weak hypothesis is that effective altruism can feel more like a 'purity' decision...". Wanting to optimize our altruism, to make it more effective, can, in Leah's words, "trigger scrupulosity."

What is interesting here is how Leah is connecting scrupulosity less with a fear of doing a bad thing (committing a mortal sin) than with the keen desire to do a good thing, the desire to reduce suffering in the world. And as the scope of this scrupulosity expands from domain to domain, to eventually inhabit every facet of existence, we begin converging upon the "everything is problematic" mindset and a sort of moral paralysis sets in.

Of course, the objections here are now familiar. While scrupulosity is definitely an unpleasant neurotic experience, scrupulosity is still focusing upon the actions of individuals and is still centering feelings, generally the feelings of privileged people.

But the answer here wouldn't be for those privileged people to have less scruples or to check their scruples or de-center their scruples. Without scruples the privileged people wouldn't really care or worry about being privileged. Without scruples you'd never check your privilege.

So the scruples are necessary, vital even. The trick, it seems, is having those scruples--and in spades--but rejecting "the will to purity" that curdles into scrupulosity.

---

Richard Beck is Professor and Chair of the Department of Psychology at Abilene Christian University. He is the author of several books including Unclean, The Authenticity of Faith, and The Slavery of Death. Richard's published research also covers topics as diverse as the psychology of profanity to why Christian bookstore art is so bad. Richard also leads a bible study each week for fifty inmates at the maximum security French-Robertson unit. And any given week Richard drives the van, preaches or washes dishes at Freedom Fellowship, a church plant feeding and reaching out to those on the margins. Finally, on his popular blog Experimental Theology Richard will spend enormous amounts of time writing about the theology of Johnny Cash, the demonology of Scooby-Doo or his latest bible class on monsters.





Tuesday, March 10, 2015

Woman, Why Are You Weeping?





Woman, why are you weeping? {when your kid becomes Episcopalian}
http://www.amypeterson.net/journal/2015/2/23/woman-why-are-you-weeping-when-your-kid-becomes-episcopalian

Amy Peterson
February 23, 2015
Dear Woman -
That’s what the angels said to Mary Magdalene at the tomb.  Dear Woman, why are you weeping? they asked.  
She wept because Christ was dead and hope was gone.
She turned from the angels.  She thought he was the gardener.  Woman, why are you weeping? He asked it, too.  
She wept because she didn’t understand, yet.
---
Dear Woman -
I saw you at church that day, sitting two-thirds of the way back on the left hand side. You were sitting next to your daughter, who is a student at the evangelical university where I work.  You were visiting her, and her church; your cheeks were wet.
Later I asked her about it.  My mom thinks I’ve lost my faith, she said.
I understood.  We attend an Episcopal church. Twenty years ago, most of the Christians I knew thought there was little true faith to be found in the Episcopal church, what with its rote prayers and female priests and politically liberal congregations. I understood, too, because I’m a mother, and I am beginning to see how impossibly fraught with emotion and responsibility and prayer and vulnerability it is to watch over your child’s spiritual formation.
Dear woman, I have thought of you most Sundays over the last few months. I've wondered what -if anything- I could say to put your heart at ease.  I know your daughter well, and I know her to be one of the most thoughtful, intentional, mature and spiritually grounded students I’ve worked with.  I also know a little something about what it means to grow up evangelical and what it means to move towards the Anglican tradition.  I can’t speak for all Anglicans or Episcopalians, but I can tell you from my own experience what it means and what it doesn’t mean that I’ve been confirmed in this church.


It doesn’t mean that I’ve rejected the authority of Scripture.

This is how we used to say it, growing up: "That church has female preachers- clearly, they don't believe the Bible!" While it's true that I've changed my mind about the place of women in church ministry, that hasn't happened because I chose cultural relevance over Scripture.  That change came slowly, and it came through careful study of Scripture. (Like this, or this.)

You may have heard that the Episcopal church's position on gay marriage or evolution or Iraq or any number of things shows that we don't respect the Bible.  But don't believe that until you talk to us about it.

We read aloud from the Old Testament, the Psalms, the New Testament, and a Gospel every Sunday.  I'm guessing that's more Scripture than is listened to in most non-denominational churches on most Sunday mornings. We have a high view of Scripture.

It doesn’t mean that I have stopped believing in Jesus.

Episcopalians are basically universalists (or so I've heard).  They believe all religions are the same, that all paths lead to God.

But every Sunday we recite the Nicene Creed, something Christians have held in common since 325 AD.  Part of that creed reads:
We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ,
the only Son of God,
eternally begotten of the Father,
God from God, Light from Light,
true God from true God,
begotten, not made,
of one Being with the Father.


One Lord.  One.  The only Son of God. We believe in Jesus.
(Read the whole Nicene Creed.)


It doesn’t mean that my prayers are rote and meaningless, that I believe in magical incantations, or that I worship the Book of Common Prayer.

Someone asked that once - why do we worship the Book of Common Prayer? She thought that when our rector walked down the aisle to read from the gospels, we bowed toward the Book of Common Prayer he held.  But it is a Bible he carries down the aisle.  We bow toward the gospels, humble in submission to the words of Jesus (see above: high view of Scripture's authority).

I love the liturgical prayers.  They are not the only way I pray.  But I've found that they instruct me, they form my soul, they shape me in ways I want to be shaped. They give me words when I don't always know what to say to God.

It doesn’t mean that I believe in transubstantiation.

But I do think there's something to be said about the Real Presence of Christ in the wafer and the wine. And there is something to be said for the way it nourishes me every week.  I love to take the Eucharist every week.

It does not mean that I have lost respect for the churches of my youth.

It does mean that my Sunday worship has a physical form.

One student at our church said it this way:

"In Desiring the Kingdom, James K.A. Smith puts forth the idea that humans are driven more by the desires in their guts than by the ideas in their minds. He encourages physical practices in worship to guide the direction of desires.

Since reading this article and book, I am aware that I have trouble making my mind focus on the readings or the sermon during church; however, when my whole body is called upon to take part in the Eucharist, I seem to wake up to the divine presence in the room."

We are not just minds and hearts and souls; we are bodies, too.  Kneeling, sitting, standing, moving up to the altar for communion -- these motions train our bodies in how to respond to God.

It does mean that I am seeking a long, enduring tradition within which to situate myself.

It does mean that I think the tent is wider than I used to think it was.

The older I get, the less I know, the more mystery I embrace. The less likely I am to build clear walls diving who is in from who is out. That doesn't mean I can't say anything about what is true (see Nicene Creed, above).  But it does mean that I am willing to say with St. Augustine, "In essentials, unity; in non-essentials, liberty; in all things, charity."

One of those "non-essentials," for me, is mode of baptism.  I do believe in infant baptism, but it's ok if you don't.  You're still welcome here.

(Here are some more of my thoughts about the value of a wide tent.)

It does mean that my children have a spiritual home.

An early memory: our church is meeting in a rented space, a school building.  It is a small, non-denominational church.  My Dad leads the music. The six or so kids run wild around the building when the service is over, playing spies and hide and seek. It feels like home, the most comfortable place in the world.

I see my children having this exact experience at our Episcopal church now.

It does mean that I want a church that is intergenerational.
I want to shake hands with the little old ladies and hold the babies. I want my own children in the pew with me for at least part of every "big church" service.
It does mean that I want a service that is not sensational, flashy, or particularly “relevant”. 
I can be entertained anywhere. At church, I do not want to be entertained.  I do not want to be the target of anyone's marketing.  I want to be asked to participate in the life of an ancient-future community.
It does mean that I want coffee and donuts every Sunday.
Actually, the donuts I could take or leave, but the time shared over food every Sunday, ever Seder, every Mardis Gras, every Chili supper... I couldn't do without it.
It does mean that I like a short homily.
Let's be honest: I like that the sermon is not the main thing.  I can get biblical and theological instruction anywhere nowadays.  I can’t get the Eucharist or the community anywhere.
It also just means that I live in a small town.  Not every denomination is represented in this prairied part of middle America.  It doesn’t necessarily mean that the Episcopalians are the people I agree with most.  It isn’t about agreement, exactly.  It’s about rooting yourself to a people, saying that you are willing to take not only the good from them but also the bad.  It’s about where you pray best.
At least, that’s how Preston Yancey explained his movement towards Anglicanism in his memoir Tables in the Wilderness. (Maybe you’d like to read this story of a young person moving slowly from the Baptist tradition to the Anglican?) Another book that helps explain the movement toward liturgy in the Gen X and Millennial kids is Robert Webber’s Evangelicals on the Canterbury Trail (I also like his Younger Evangelicals).  You might like this blog postabout the Episcopal church, this one from another student at our church, or this one from an Assemblies of God pastor who became Anglican. If you want, maybe another day I’ll write about the books that led me to the Anglican Tradition.


But for now, dear woman, turn around.  See your daughter.  Don’t you see Christ in her, in the words she speaks and the way she serves?  This isn’t death: this is new life. It just looks a little different.

With love,

Amy


Saturday, January 31, 2015

Personal Well-Being: The One Thing That Will Ruin a Perfectly Good Relationship



The one behavior that can make or break your connection.

December 14, 2012 in Anger in the Age of Entitlement

As Oscar Wilde put it, “Criticism is the only reliable form of autobiography.” It tells you more about the psychology of the criticizer than the people he or she criticizes. Astute professionals can formulate a viable diagnostic hypothesis just from hearing someone criticize.

Criticism is the first of John Gottman’s famous Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, which predict divorce with more than 90% accuracy. In my clinical experience it is the most apocryphal, as the other three tend to follow from it—stonewalling, defensive, and contemptuous partners almost invariably feel criticized.

Criticism is destructive to relationships when it is:

  • About personality or character, rather than behavior
  • Filled with blame
  • Not focused on improvement
  • Based on only one “right way” to do things
  • Belittling

Criticism in close relationships starts out, in most cases, on a low key and escalates over time, forming a downward spiral with increasing resentment. The criticized person feels controlled, which frustrates the critical partner, who then steps up the criticism, increasing the other’s sense being controlled, and so on.

At no time in this downward spiral does an obvious fact occur to critical people: Criticism is an utter failure at getting positive behavior change. Any short-term gain you might get from it just builds resentment down the line.

Criticism fails because it embodies two of the things that human beings hate the most:

  • It calls for submission, and we hate to submit.
  • It devalues, and we hate to feel devalued.

While people hate to submit, we like to cooperate. Critical people seem oblivious to a key point about human nature:

The valued self cooperates; the devalued self resists.

If you want behavior change, show value for the person whose behavior you want to change. If you want resistance, criticize.

Critical people are certainly smart enough to figure out that criticism doesn’t work. So why do they keep doing it in the face of mounting frustration?

They keep doing it because criticism is an easy form of ego defense. We don’t criticize because we disagree with a behavior or an attitude. We criticize because we somehow feel devalued by the behavior or attitude. Critical people tend to be easily insulted and especially in need of ego defense.

Critical people were often criticized in early childhood by caretakers, siblings, or peers. Criticism can be especially painful for young children. They cannot distinguish criticism of their behavior from rejection, no matter how much we try to make the distinction for them, as in the well-intentioned, “You’re a good boy, but this behavior is bad.”

Such a distinction requires a higher prefrontal cortex operation, which is beyond most young children. To a child under seven, anything more than occasional criticism, even if soft-pedaled, means they’re bad and unworthy.

A Shadow of Life or Death

The only thing young children can do to survive is attach emotionally to people who will take care of them. Feeling unworthy of attachment, as criticized young children are apt to feel, seems a bit like life or death. So they try to control the great pain of criticism by turning it into self-criticism—since self-inflicted pain is better than unpredictable rejection by loved ones.

By early adolescence, they begin to "identify with the aggressor"—emulating the more powerful criticizer. By late adolescence, self-criticism expands to criticism of others. By young adulthood, it seems to be entirely criticism of others. But most critical people remain primarily self-critical; I have never treated one who was not. As hard as they are on others, most are at least equally hard on themselves.

How to Tell if You’re Critical

You’re likely to be the last to know whether you’re a critical person. As the joke goes, “I give feedback; you’re critical. I’m firm; you’re stubborn. I’m flexible; you’re wishy-washy. I’m in touch with my feelings; you’re hysterical!”

If someone tells you you’re critical, you probably are. But there’s even a better way to tell: Think of what you automatically say to yourself if you drop something or make a mistake. Critical people will typically think, “Oh you idiot,” or, “Jerk,” or just curse or sigh in disgust. If you do that to yourself, you most likely do it to others as well.

Criticism vs. Feedback

Critical people often delude themselves into thinking that they merely give helpful feedback. The following are ways to tell the two apart.

  • Criticism focuses on what’s wrong. (“Why can’t you pay attention to the bills?”)
  • Feedback focuses on how to improve. ("Let’s go over the bills together.")

  • Criticism implies the worst about the other’s personality. (“You’re stubborn and lazy.”)
  • Feedback is about behavior, not personality. (“Can we start by sorting the bills according to due date?”)

  • Criticism devalues. (“I guess you’re just not smart enough to do this.”)
  • Feedback encourages. ("I know you have a lot on your plate, but I’m pretty sure we can do this together.")

  • Criticism implies blame. (“It’s your fault we’re in this financial mess.”)
  • Feedback focuses on the future. (“We can get out of this mess if we both give up a few things. What do you think?”)

  • Criticism attempts to control. (“I know what’s best; I’m smarter and more educated.")
  • Feedback respects autonomy. (“I respect your right to make that choice, even though I don’t agree with it.”)

  • Criticism is coercive. (“You’re going to do what I want, or else I won’t connect with you or will punish you in some way.”)
  • Feedback is not at all coercive. (“I know we can find a solution that works for both of us.”)

Warning About Feedback

If you’re angry or resentful, any “feedback” you give will be heard as criticism, no matter how you put it. That’s because people respond to emotional tone, not intention. It’s best to regulate the anger or resentment before you try to give feedback.

To give feedback from your core value:

  • Focus on how to improve.
  • Focus on the behavior you would like to see, not on the personality of your partner or child.
  • Encourage change, instead of undermining confidence.
  • Sincerely offer help.
  • Respect his/her autonomy.
  • Resist the urge to punish or withdraw affection if he/she doesn’t do what you want

If you’re a critical person, you must get a handle on your impulse to criticize before it ruins your relationship.


related -



Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Peter Rollins - Burning Desire: "Christianity & Secular Religion"

Audio
Secular Religion

by Peter Rollins
August 19, 2014

Peter Rollins' Burning Desire Tour of Australia

08:59
14:58


This is a short interview I did for an Adelaide radio station during my Burning Desire tour in Australia. - Peter

Peter asks, "Can Christianity be found outside the churches? Why is their a decline in church attendance?" He observes that real faith doesn't seek to escape suffering and brokenness but to accept it. That theology isn't found in substitutes for God (our technologies, addictions, trans-humanism, etc.) but in God Himself. That to "do business with ourselves is hard enough. But to do community together within our suffering is the harder task" so that we might not suffer alone through solitude and the wastelands of depression. To find common support within a community of mutual fellowship through music, liturgy, prayer, and honest self-reflection. That Christianity's radical message is not what one believes but how one chooses to live within suffering and pain. Not to wait for death to come "to make all things right" but to live a life that brings "God's redemption here into this present life." - R.E. Slater, August 26, 2014


* * * * * * * * * * *

Audio
Facing our Fears: An Interview with John Shuck

by Peter Rollins
August 19, 2014

Peter Rollins Interview with John Shuck

07:12
26:04

Go to link here to listen to interview

This is an interview I did with John Shuck. In it I explore some of the themes from The Idolatry of God, however the interview itself also became an example of how those ideas might play out in peoples real lives. Something that becomes clear at the end. - Peter