Keep Asking by Gabriel G. Scheller

[© GGS 2007, all rights reserved.]
In this piece of work from Gabriel’s senior year of high school, he outlines his racial awakening and subsequent passion for racial justice and reconciliation.
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The Birth of an Activist by Gabriel G. Scheller
Over the years I have probably read more books than the average teenager. This can partly be attributed to my four years of home schooling with a literature-based curriculum and partly an early introduction to novels by my mother. I have also seen many movies and television shows, more than is probably healthy. Because of these two factors, I was hard-pressed to think of one book or movie that has had any significant influence on my life. The movies I chose are Remember the Titans and Glory; the book is Uncle Tom’s Cabin.
I have been blessed to live as a bi-racial child in an entirely Caucasian family. I never knew my Tanzanian birth father. About a month after my first birthday, my mom married my father and he adopted me when I was five. I have never felt uncomfortable around my white family. Everyone on both my natural mother’s side and my adoptive father’s side treats me with love and respect.
My parents tried as hard as they could to make sure I never tasted the bitterness of racism or bigotry. They even moved the whole family from Point Pleasant Beach, NJ, which had hardly any diversity to Long Branch, NJ, which had everything from Hispanics to Asians. In turn, I never had to deal with discrimination because of the color of my skin. I was never denied access to any public place because I was black. I could always drink out of the same water fountain as anyone else. This was a blessing in almost every way, except that by not suffering myself, I was not as sympathetic towards the people who had suffered as I could have been. The Civil War and the Civil Rights Movement seemed so far away that I never appreciated what had been sacrificed.
It was not until eighth grade that I began to realize the things I had been taking for granted. My mom, my brother and I read Uncle Tom’s Cabin. Harriet Beecher Stowe’s writing style was breathtaking and powerful. She made me feel the ice cold water of a woman trying to escape through a frozen river and every lash inflicted on Tom by Simon Legree. As we read, I had to breathe sighs of relief throughout the book and thank God that he did not create me to live in that time.
Later on I saw the movie and it was very disappointing, as most book-based movies are. I was the only one in AP History class who had read the book and I had everyone excited to watch it. “Wait ’til you see how bad Legree is. You’re gonna’ hate him so much.” Unfortunately the film makers could not fully visualize just how evil Simon was. They did not make his voice drip with hate or send tingles up my spine every time he entered a scene. The movie made him out to be simply an angry drunk, more pitiful than malevolent. The effect was exactly the opposite of the one I had had as a reader. Instead of hating Legree, I almost felt sorry for him.
This new found empathy with the suffering of my predecessors invigorated me. I wanted to do everything for Civil Rights! I wanted to fight the good fight! But there was not even a little inequality I could find in my town, considering the fact that minorities were the majority.
It was not until sophomore year that I saw the two movies that have had the greatest effect on me. I recall seeing posters advertising Remember the Titans and scrutinizing it harshly. How could a Disney movie about football be worth seeing? After it came out, the buzz of the critics was positive, but anyone can find a critic who likes a bad movie. I didn’t take it that seriously until I heard the kids in school raving about it. It was inspirational! It made grown men cry! I finally watched it in my US History II class when it came out on video. I was astonished by Denzel Washington’s stellar performance. This movie didn’t sugar coat anything. It showed the bigotry and skewed logic of disrespecting someone just because of their skin color.
I wanted to do something. I thought for a long time and finally decided I wanted to make a movie, a story of racism that takes place in the present. I wanted to show that it still lives, to show that even though the movers and shakers of the Civil Rights Movement made astronomical advances, we still have a ways to go. I also wanted it to be set in the North. Unfortunately other than setting, I really had nothing to go on. I thought for days, but nothing came to mind and I gradually forgot about my plans.
That spring the class watched Glory. Once again I watched as African Americans were hated for no logical reason. I watched them fight and die for the freedom that I still take for granted. I wanted others to feel the same way I did, watching these movies and reading that book. I was reminded of my screenplay. This time I was determined to come up with a plot. I tried for almost two weeks. Everything I came up with was either pitiful or reminiscent of some other movie. Three weeks had gone by and I had given up. I went to sleep depressed and discouraged. It must have been 2:30 in the morning when I woke up. I saw it all in my head: plot, camera angles, what the actors needed to look like. Everything was there. I hopped out of bed and took out a piece of paper from my desk drawer. I had to get it all down. I couldn’t forget. I crawled back into bed after almost forty-five minutes of furious scribbling and fell asleep with a smile spread across my face.
After much refining and lots of thought, my screenplay evolved into a book. I figured that it would be a lot easier for a first time author to have his book published than it would be to have a screenplay made into the major movie I wanted it to be. Plus, I had no idea how to write a screenplay. It just made more sense to write it as a book, hope it would be popular and then have it made into a movie.
The novella is coming along very slowly. I have been writing it for almost a year. Due to writer’s block and my tendency toward procrastination, I have spent much less time on it than I would have liked. In the move out here to California, some of my important notes were lost, which set me back further. I plan on bouncing back and reaching my goal before I have to leave for college, where I will probably be so sick of writing things that I’d rather have my fingers broken than do it voluntarily.
These three media pieces have influenced me for the better. I have more respect for myself and appreciation for my ethnicity. I don’t let people make ignorant comments about my being mixed the way I used to—even if it’s only in fun. I have decided to stop pretending that it doesn’t hurt. One day I hope and pray that I will have done something to make at least one person feel the same way.
[© GGS 2002, all rights reserved.]

[©GGS circa 2000, all rights reserved.]
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Back in the day,
in my “H” double “O-D,”
sittin’ on the stoop listening to Snoop “D-O” double “G.”
Tried to be good,
do what my mom told me,
causin’ all kinds of trouble, wit my homies.
Back in the day
with Mase, Big & Puffy,
tryna pop wheelies on my Huffy.
We were told not to talk to strangers,
not to get violent like Power Rangers.
Back in the day when life was sweet
and the hardest thing to do was beat Mario 3.
When PS1 beat the Snes.
Big League Chew, yo’ that stuff was the best.
Jurassic Park & that movie Twister,
Family Matters, Smart Guy & Sister, Sister.
My first girlfriend & the playground where I kissed her.
Back in the day when my whole ‘hood knew me,
plannin’ wit my brother how to sneak into movies.
BK Knights & knee high socks.
Walking down the street to the barber shop—
short on the sides & long on top.
Waffles at Gramma’s,
Kick Ball & skippin’ rocks.
Can’t forget Slammers & Pogs.
Waste all my money from doing chores
on candy & soda at the corner store.
Back when I was innocent, never suspicious.
Fruit Stripe gum & Bubblicious.
Scared of bullies that might hurt us.
Captain Crunch, Pop Tarts & Ninja Turtles.
Catching fireflies on warm summer nights,
playing Manhunt in my LA Lights.
Talkin’ in class, passin’ notes—
Do you like me? Check yes or no.
Waitin’ for the bus, tryna make my hands warmer.
Battle Toads & Transformers,
Ghost Busters.
Watchin’ Nickelodeon, my brother & me,
Camp Anawana & Pete & Pete.
4th of July, ice cream & bottle rockets,
back when Gameboy could fit in your pocket.
Tryna save Zelda with Link.
Knock on wood. Jynx personal jynx.
Being young is what I miss.
Like a bracelet you hit on your wrist,
my childhood went by in a snap.
I can’t believe years go by so fast;
I can’t help but miss way back when.
I’d give anything to be a kid again.
[©GGS 2004, all rights reserved.]
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[© GGS circa 2002, all rights reserved.]
New York is beautiful.
I forgot how much I missed it.
So much life in this city. American remix.
Culture rich city. I’ll move there someday,
just to see the breakers dancing in the subway.
There’s no music there; the sound system’s busted.
D-line. Old man, hands calloused and crusted.
The music flows out of his fingers to his violin.
Bach. Dvorak.
I don’t know which one it is,
but it’s beautiful.
The notes send shivers down my spine.
So crisp and so clear, from his soul to mine.
Moving on. Late night. Lost.
Times Square.
Eerie neon piercing the cold winter air.
The streets are packed.
I bump a shoulder. I’m sorry.
Thousands of people, each with his own story.
So many eyes, so many faces, so many mouths.
One in particular manages to stick out.
A creature with many eyes; they keep blinking at me,
opening, closing, keepin’ a beat.
Its voice, its cry, warm and mellow. Its skin,
shiny gold. Carmel. Yellow.
The streets. The people. The music in my ears.
I throw him some change from my pocket;
I played the sax for 8 years.
He asked me why I stopped.
I didn’t have an answer.
He started again. I walked away faster.
Time to go. Where’s my train?
I hope I don’t get lost again,
but I make it on time.
Seventh Ave. MTV.
I remember that hot dog stand.
I’m actually early.
Good thing;
Gramma woulda’ been worried.
I walk to a shop.
Penn Station is huge.
Buy some water.
Two men lookin’ used.
They have a tired, sad look in their eyes,
like their spirits are broken,
like they want to cry,
like they been to hell and back.
Put down their beers.
They were Brian and Tone.
They’ve forgotten
more than I’ve known.
A comment,
as usual,
about my ‘fro.
Be proud to be black.
[© GGS 2005, all rights reserved.]
My family is historically bad at giving gifts. I remember being a kid and getting mostly what I wanted, but I was extremely rambunctious, hyper-active and outgoing. You could throw string and an old shampoo bottle at me and I would have the time of my life. However, like all teenagers, cynicism and an unhealthy obsession with being cool made me much harder to entertain.
I peg myself at about 13 when I stopped getting really excited for Christmas or even birthdays. This probably says a lot more about me than it does about my parents’ and brother’s gift-giving abilities, but I’m still a little skeptical. There was one year though—save for the X-Box Christmas (my parents never, ever bought me video game systems growing up). That year I had gotten punched in the face on Christmas Eve at the mall as I was trying to buy my dad a last minute gift (it’s a long story) and I got something I knew was a gem before I really even understood it.
Through all the disappointing shirts, socks and Christian rap CDs, I opened my brother’s gift to me. We always open one another’s gifts last. I think that year I got him a DVD of a movie I was sure he liked (I was wrong), but he got me Calvin and Hobbes: Sunday Pages 1985-1995. Anyone growing up in the ‘90s would rather disown Power Rangers, The Ghostbusters and Ninja Turtles than speak ill of the great work of art that is Calvin and Hobbes. So imagine my excitement when there in my hands was 10 years (all) of the Sunday comics in full color. Not only in color, but on one page was the final draft that went to the papers and on the adjacent page were Bill Watterson’s original sketches with his commentary on each one.
I was stunned.
Always having enjoyed drawing cartoons, watching cartoons, reading cartoons (I’m a kid at heart), this was a wonderful gift. What I didn’t realize at the time was that one sentence in the book would help me answer one of the most profound questions ever posed to me.
In February, 2006, our very own E.J. Park had an article published in Christianity Today with a title the editor probably thought was clever and funny: “A Tale of Two Kitties.” If the title is the first thing someone reads in a magazine, readers must have thought that Dr. Park’s article was cute, cuddly and possibly a little bit funny. This couldn’t have been any further from the truth and despite the moniker, E.J. asked America a serious and troubling question that has plagued me since I first heard him mention it in class.
Is there anything too sacred to be mass-produced?
Let that sink in for a second. Is anything too sacred to be painted on 10,000 t-shirts? Is there anything too sacred to be put on a billboard? Is there something so close to your heart that you would feel offended if a big corporation or even a small business put it on a coffee mug? Whoa! Way to change my world E.J. … ignorance was bliss!
In the article, E.J. referenced the great Calvin and Hobbes. Some of what he said I had already read in my book. Bill Watterson’s characters (a boy and his stuffed tiger) had captured the imagination of millions. In only 10 years, he was able to carve out and create a world so intriguing and so interesting that everyone wanted more. Watterson had t-shirt offers, TV-show offers, movie offers, everything one would think a comic strip artist would dream of. But defying expectations and probably baffling his family and friends, Watterson said no. The world he had created—the characters, the landscapes and the imagination were much too important to him. Too important to give Calvin another person’s voice and too important to settle the ambiguity of Hobbes by making him into a real stuffed tiger.
Dr. Park references all this and more in his article. (It was called A Tale of Two Kitties because Aslan was also referenced. I bring up only Hobbes here because I was more partial to Watterson as a kid than to Lewis.) If a man thinks his comic strip, a form that has never been taken seriously, is too important to merchandise, too sacred to mass produce, then how much more seriously should we take Jesus? How much more seriously should we take love, emotions, sex, etc.? Is there anything we as North Americans take as seriously as Watterson took his art? I don’t know.
It’s funny to me that the decision of one secular man could change and influence my life more than the hundreds of CCM songs that I have probably heard. His seriousness and devotion to his art have motivated me more than what have classically been called “great artists.” His decision to stand up for something that many other people probably thought was irrelevant was what forced me to finally look at my life and relationship with God. After years of church, countless youth groups and more snow retreats than I would like to remember, a cartoon cat and a smart-ass kid are what brought me closer to the Lord, to my art and to myself.
How’s that for a Christmas gift?
[©GGS 2007, all rights reserved.]
Note: This essay first appeared as the introduction to a paper titled Communication Credo that Gabriel wrote for his senior seminar at Wheaton College. He went on to write:
“In the same way Watterson did not want to sell his art short, I do not want to sell God, the people involved or my audiences short. I do not want to make holy moments into postcards and sacred tears into coffee mugs. I understand these decisions are aggressive. I understand I will not get it right all of the time, but as long as I sincerely believe in having a healthy respect for the sacred and a revulsion for the dehumanizing, I can be an ethical Christian communicator.”

Wheaton College professor John Walford gave a passionate testimony about his brushes with suicide at a recent Wheaton chapel service. There have been three recent alumni suicides in the past year, and the university is rightly concerned about a trend that reflects an alarming three-fold increase in youth suicide.
While I commend both the university in its desire to address the issue with a strong exhortation and Dr. Walford for his transparency, the message fell short in that it lacks the expert advice that might have provided students with consolation, deeper understanding and tangible help.
Today I’d like to commend to you InterVarsity Press editor and Christianity Today columnist Al Hsu’s excellent book, Grieving a Suicide. I met Al in February at the National Pastors’ Convention and noticed this book on a display table. After Gabe’s death and before we left for the services in New Jersey, I asked him to send me a copy. It was waiting for me when we returned to California. I’m reading it for the second time and ordered 10 more copies for family and friends. (I received the shipment yesterday and will distribute the books forthwith.)
Al’s book is dedicated to his father, Terry Tsai-Yuan Hsu, an accomplished electrical engineer who took his own life after a debilitating stroke. Al brings to the topic both a survivor’s understanding and good scholarship.
The book is divided into three parts:
In Part I, we learn that “the grief that suicide survivors experience is described by psychologists as ‘complicated grief.’ … Those of us who experience complicated bereavement are actually grappling with two realities, grief and trauma. Grief is normal; trauma is not. The combination of circumstances is like a vicious one-two punch. We are grieving the death of a loved one, and we are reeling from the trauma of suicide. The first is difficult enough; the second may seem unbearable.”
Al categorizes the resultant turmoil as follows:
In the chapter from Part II on remembrance, Al offers this helpful advice:
“Because of the corrosive, personality-altering nature of suicidal depression, ‘by the time suicide occurs, those who kill themselves may resemble only slightly children or spouses once greatly loved and enjoyed for their company.’ The days, weeks and years following a suicide may be a time of gradually recovering the memories of our loved one, of discovering true and lasting remembrances of their life.”
The chapter I have most marked up is the Why chapter. From our first conversation at 5:00 in the morning after Gabe died, Aaron Kheriaty gently but firmly instructed us that the suicide will never make sense. And yet we try …
Al writes, “We must make a distinction between causes and triggers. Suicide might be triggered by divorce or the loss of a job, but those may not be the actual causes … Suicidal desires run much deeper, and if one event does not trigger the suicide, another might.”
Nonetheless there are some defining characteristics:
Al mentions other factors like suicide as philosophical protest, the higher tendency toward depression/suicide in those with artistic temperaments, suicide because of grief (eg. 9/11 survivors) and suicide as atonement.
He says we may be asking the why question when what we really want to know is How could they do this to me? For him, it is helpful to realize that his father “did what he did to end his pain, not to cause pain for me.”
Each life and death is both common and unique. Dr. Walford’s experience with the temptation toward suicide sounds familiar and yet very different from Gabe’s. He communicated it in his chapel message through the lens of spiritual battle. That is one lens. The context of Gabriel’s death reads to me like a perfect storm of contributing factors. I see his suicide through a compound lens.
Walford chose a route to suicide that allowed him the opportunity to come to his senses. Gabe did not. Is one man more spiritual than the other because of method or outcome? I think not.
In Part III of Grieving a Suicide, Al talks about life after suicide. In the chapter on the healing community, he gives good advice on the language we use to describe suicide. Instead of saying someone “committed suicide” as if the victim were a criminal, we can say they died by suicide or they took their own life.
The final chapter offers five lessons we can learn from suicide:
Our family has been mercifully spared much insensitivity and ignorance in the wake of this tragedy. I can’t imagine going through this without the wise counsel of those who’ve walked the road before. Grieving a Suicide is a book I don’t ever want to recommend again because doing so would mean someone else enduring this type of senseless tragedy. And yet, a suicide occurs every 17 minutes in the United States.
If you are a pastor or lay minister, prepare yourself with knowledge before you try to minister to the grieving and confused. This book will help you do that; it includes a helpful appendix of suicide prevention/survival resources. If you are a survivor, it will be a balm to your soul.
Thanks Al!
[photo ©cas 2007: sunrise at Mustard Seed Ranch, Warner Springs, CA]
I’ve gone straight from engaging with pastors to engaging with post-doctoral scientists. What, you ask, do I mean? Well, for the next 10 days, I’ll be at Childrens Hospital of Orange County (CHOC) attending the 5th annual NIH Human Embryonic Stem Cell (hESC) Training Course. I attended three years ago and already noted a significant development. Two of the dozen scientists in attendance are here to learn how to culture hESCs so that they can reprogram adult stem cells into the more versatile pluripotent ones, not because they want to be hESC researchers.
Phil Schwartz was prescient when he stood by his convictions to work with the NIH approved cell lines in the belief that alternatives to destroying new embryos would emerge. He named at least three alternatives this morning: stem cells derived from adult cells, from eggs and from sperm. Of course, I’m not yet sure how interested the students are in all that. Phil will make sure they get a well-rounded introduction to the field. For this tax-payers can be grateful.
I won’t be blogging much from this material, as I’m working on stories for other outlets, but I will try to reserve something for Exploring Intersections. A few of the lecture topics I’m particularly interested in are as follows:
Three years ago I met one of my closest California friends through this course. That friend is now a NIH-funded hESC researcher. This morning, when I told a student that I had just come from a pastors conference, she remarked that the two groups were polar opposites. And isn’t that part of our problem? Not only is there a misconception that science and religion must be at odds, but there is also a prevailing wind of public discourse that always frames the “other” as an enemy. I hope to do my little bit to change the direction of the wind. We’ll see. First I’ll have to get past 30 minutes of Sidney Golub talking hESC politics from what I expect to be a calcified point of view.

The National Pastors Convention ended at noon yesterday. I’ve been to many conferences over the years, and I must say this was one of the most enjoyable. Beeson Divinity school professor/author/painter Calvin Miller touched on why this was true for me. In his session on Celtic Christianity, he described how different events attract different audiences. I was at home with this audience. Not only that, but the organizers were wonderful hosts to us journalists. I’m sitting right now at a dining room table covered with books, some of which the publishers would, no doubt, like me to mention. This brings me back to my first post from the convention. In it, I mentioned the fact that a session moderator had asked the audience not to blog about it. At least three others have now done so. Specifically, he asked us not to blog “provocative one-liners” and then he or someone else jokingly stated: “What happens in the Critical Concerns Courses stays in the Critical Concerns Courses.”
When I was at the Better Watchdogs Workshop back in September, we had a discussion about when groups that actively seek publicity suddenly bar the press from reporting on a public or semi-public meeting. There was not clear consensus on what to do in such situations. I said that I would comply with such a request, but vocally protest it and take it into account in future reporting, which is what I have done here. Let me add another thought: If authors and their publishers don’t want the press to report provocative one-liners, perhaps the authors should refrain from spewing them. It seems to me they do so to get a reaction. Both audiences and we in the press might also do well not to take the bait. Better to ignore declines in discourse than to advertise them.

Speaking of Calvin Miller’s session “Praying as a Creature to the Creator: Finding God in the Thin Places of the World He has Made for You,” this was the only talk I attended for personal edification. I have appreciated Miller’s writing and looked forward to hearing the sage speak in person. For the life of me, I can’t tell you what he said. Partly this was fatigue, partly it was his speaking style. He was like a whirling dervish, flinging out poems and jokes and sturdy bits of wisdom with some sense of structure, but a structure I couldn’t follow. I suspect I might be like him as a speaker, struggling to express something coherent—only I don’t like chaos. I’d also skip the fat American jokes, as any regular reader of this blog can attest. (I’m sure the attractive, ample woman beside me didn’t appreciate them either.) And I would skip the multiple reminders to buy my new book, though I think he can be forgiven since he mentioned that his previously held eschatology had fooled him into not planning for his golden years until he was in his fifties. I had already bought The Path of Celtic Prayer at any rate, and don’t regret it.
I only wish I had gone to hear Jim Wallis talk about his new book, The Great Awakening: Reviving Faith and Politics in a Post-Religious Right America, instead. I had heard Wallis on Thursday evening in a short interview with Efrem Smith. Even Smith was skeptical of Wallis’ protestations that he is not advocating a Religious Left to counter the Religious Right. Wallis said he is preaching spiritual revival, for without it, neither party will effect real change.

Krista Tippett‘s interview with Bishops Rucyahana and Wright was impressive. She picked up on some of the themes I spoke with Bishop Rucyahana about regarding the Anglican splintering. (Wright corrected my reference to it as a “split” in my interview with him.) I encourage anyone who cares about our world to check the Speaking of Faith website for the air date. Currently, an interview with the late John O’ Donahue is being featured. I’d never heard of O’Donahue until bloggers began reporting his death earlier this year, and then a dear Irishman who is not a churchgoer told me his “relations,” as he calls them, were friends with O’Donahue. I’ll be acquainting myself (and my friend) with him shortly.
Long after the convention site had cleared, I spent 30 minutes with N.T. Wright, bishop of Durham, England. Wright gives fully-orbed answers to interview questions and I had a lot of them to pack into a short span of time. They centered on two themes: his thoughts on the Anglican “splintering” and his thoughts on what Phyllis Tickle calls “The Great Emergence.” I’ll not share what Wright said about the Anglican situation, except to say this: He rejects the critique of Dr. Vinay Samuel in The Anglican Mainstream that his position on the Global Anglican Future Conference is essentially racist. I intend to explore this theme elsewhere.
As to his views on the emergents, he spent time with some of them at Soularize in the Bahamas last year and thinks there are some serious Christian thinkers among them. He hadn’t heard of Peter Rollins, who has been described to me as the premiere “emerging” philosopher, and was unfamiliar with Rollins’ more questionable ideas. He thinks the emerging church is a reasonable response to the modernist mega-church construct. A couple times Wright had said post-modernism “preaches the Fall” to arrogant modernism. I asked him if he didn’t think post-modernism communicates an arrogance of its own. He agreed, which may be why he is stressing “post-post modernism,” an idea he defined for Tippett. My notes are unclear on this point, but he said something about the church leading the way forward as society is fumbling about between modernism and post-modernism.
Here’s what struck me about Bishop Wright:
That he is a brilliant scholar and orator is obvious. I have now heard him talk passionately about the importance of prophetic voices several times. (I couldn’t agree more.) In this context, at the closing communion service, he gave an erudite description of courage as the culmination of countless small decisions over time that lead those who have it to make incredible sacrifices when it counts. So I asked him, “Who are our prophets?” He was a bit startled and said he had been speaking theoretically. After a minute or two, he named the Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams. For example, he said Williams had effectively argued against euthanasia before the House of Lords. I threw out a couple American names. He affirmed Jim Wallis, even if he disagrees with Wallis in bits.
Here’s the thing: In the preface to Wright’s new book Surprised by Hope, he confesses to potential critics that he has not really known grief. He has not known grief. Sit with that thought a moment. He talks about courage and prophecy as theory. Well articulated ideas are vital to life and society. I am grateful for them. As a journalist, I sometimes feel inadequate in the face of them, but I have been intimately acquainted with grief and have known something of courage. Such experiences change everything about how one views the world. My enthusiasm for Wright is a bit chastened by this revelation.
In the Intro to Philosophy class I attended when I was interviewing Dallas Willard, he mentioned three kinds of knowledge: reason, experience and authority. I can lay claim to the first 2/3 of the equation. As a journalist, 2/3 of a whole may be enough to find the gems amidst the bunk. There were a lot of gems at NPC.

[photos and text © cas, San Diego, CA, 2008]
Harvard psychologist Steven Pinker’s piece, “The Moral Instinct” from last week’s NY Times Magazine is a nice compliment to Audi’s lecture. It’s a long and interesting, if sometimes predictable, read. In it you’ll learn why Bill Gates may be morally superior to Mother Theresa. That’s just the hook though. Here’s a clip from the conclusion:
“Moral realism, as this idea is called, is too rich for many philosophers’ blood. Yet a diluted version of the idea — if not a list of cosmically inscribed Thou-Shalts, then at least a few If-Thens — is not crazy. Two features of reality point any rational, self-preserving social agent in a moral direction. And they could provide a benchmark for determining when the judgments of our moral sense are aligned with morality itself.
One is the prevalence of nonzero-sum games. In many arenas of life, two parties are objectively better off if they both act in a nonselfish way than if each of them acts selfishly. You and I are both better off if we share our surpluses, rescue each other’s children in danger and refrain from shooting at each other, compared with hoarding our surpluses while they rot, letting the other’s child drown while we file our nails or feuding like the Hatfields and McCoys. Granted, I might be a bit better off if I acted selfishly at your expense and you played the sucker, but the same is true for you with me, so if each of us tried for these advantages, we’d both end up worse off. Any neutral observer, and you and I if we could talk it over rationally, would have to conclude that the state we should aim for is the one in which we both are unselfish. These spreadsheet projections are not quirks of brain wiring, nor are they dictated by a supernatural power; they are in the nature of things.
The other external support for morality is a feature of rationality itself: that it cannot depend on the egocentric vantage point of the reasoner. If I appeal to you to do anything that affects me — to get off my foot, or tell me the time or not run me over with your car — then I can’t do it in a way that privileges my interests over yours (say, retaining my right to run you over with my car) if I want you to take me seriously. Unless I am Galactic Overlord, I have to state my case in a way that would force me to treat you in kind. I can’t act as if my interests are special just because I’m me and you’re not, any more than I can persuade you that the spot I am standing on is a special place in the universe just because I happen to be standing on it. …”

How does a religious person behave in the public square? Does one do cartwheels across the intersection in order to draw attention to one’s convictions–perhaps knocking people over in the process? Or, does an ethical religious person stand shyly on a corner watching others shape discussion? Or park under a tree and advertise? Perhaps James Dobson speaks your language? According to Time magazine Dobson said Mitt Romney’s “Mormonism” speech was a “magnificent reminder of the role religious faith must play in government and public policy.”
Think about Dobson’s words. Religious faith MUST play a role in government and public policy. Whose religious faith? Yours, mine, ours, a mulitplicity of faiths, mine today, someone else’s (Mitt’s) tomorrow? What exactly does he mean and, more importantly, what constitutes religious faith anyway?
Last Friday, I attended a lecture at UC Irvine in which University of Notre Dame philosopher Robert Audi argued that a conscientious religious person ought to shed their faith commitments in the public square. Well, maybe he wasn’t as stark as all that, but he does believe secular reasoning is the only kind appropriate to public discourse.
Audi surprised me on a variety of levels. First, his eloquence was impressive. Second, his thesis was persuasive, if limited. Third, his repeated reference to assisted suicide as an example was either a simple coincidence or confirmation of reports I’ve heard that this topic dominates Ethics discussions at UCI.
Audi set aside church/state and corporate questions, limiting his topic to what individual ethical citizens should bring to public conversation in a pluralistic society. Here’s his outline, with my notes and commentary:
I. Background Assumptions
A. Liberty, equality and neutrality principles. (Implicit in these assumptions is that religious and non-religious persons and institutions will be treated equally. Religious persons will not be preferred over non-religious [try telling that to the current crop of presidential candidates]).
B. A moral right to “maximal” liberty. (A free democracy should allow as much liberty as possible. For example, it might prohibit child sacrifice, but allow many behaviors that make a majority of citizens uncomfortable.)
II. Standards for Free Expression vs. Standards for Advocacy of Laws and Public Policies
A. Advocacy and voting as subject to stronger ethical constraints than free expression. (He said advocacy, and voting as a kind of advocacy, can be coercive if done on religious grounds. During the Q&A, an attendee offered the teaching of Intelligent Design/Creationsim in public schools as an example of coercive advocacy. Audi agreed without reference to significant differences between the two. Another audience member asked if he was equating coercion with exposure. He didn’t believe so. For example, he said students on a school bus are a captive audience to whatever advertising is displayed there [Planned Parenthood and/or crisis pregnancy center ads]. His argument seems to imply that it would be wrong to vote for a political candidate on religious grounds, but perhaps right to reject a candidate who “advocates” from his or her religion.)
B. Oughts contrasted with rights (Rights don’t exhaust morality. Ethics calls on us to do more than any one has a right to ask us to do. So, while nobody can forbid me from rejecting a presidential candidate because he or she might wear “holy” underwear, or be a closet Muslim, or a theological liberal or a guy who wants Jesus as his vice-president, the ethical thing for me to do would be to vote on non-religious grounds … unless of course I’m voting against a coercive candidate.)
III. Some Major Principles Governing Advocacy of Laws and Public Policies
A. The principle of secular rationale also called the principle of natural reason: citizens in a free democracy have a prima facie obligation not to advocate or support any law or public policy that restricts human conduct, unless they have, and are willing to offer, adequate secular reason for this advocacy or support (e.g., for a vote). (It would be wrong, however, for a citizen to use a secular argument as a cover for a religious one. An ethical person should give the reason they have and act on the reason they give.)
B. Qualifications and basis for the principle
C. The principle of religious rationale: Religious citizens in a free democracy have a prima facie obligation not to advocate or support any law or public policy that restricts human conduct, unless they have, and are willing to offer, adequate religious reason for this advocacy or support. (Audi suggested challenging a religious individual’s interpretation of their own religion. For example, if a religious citizen really believes in the sovereignty of God, wouldn’t he or she trust that God ordered the world with men and women who can reason through problems together. He believes his two principles are complimentary. [Time did not permit him to go into detail about this principle. He either did not adequately discuss points 5&6 about excusibility and non-exclusivity or my notes don’t reflect his explanation. As a result, I find it difficult to comprehend exactly what role he thinks a person’s ontological and/or religious beliefs should have on their citizenship. Nonetheless, I do find the next section helpful.])
IV. The Wider Question of the Place of Religious Considerations in Public Discourse
A. Judiciousness: ethical sensitivity, prudence, consensus-building, etc.
B. Reciprocity: universalizability and the search for common ground
C. Theo-ethical equilibrium: a reflective equilibrium between religious and secular considerations (The search for equilibrium can refine both one’s theology and one’s perspective.)
D. Civic Voice (The voice we use can be more important than what we say.)
Exploring the Intersections
During the Q&A, one audience member went into a long-winded diatribe that included a salient point about religion as a subclass of ideologies and philosophies. He mentioned Marxism as another. I had been wondering what Audi’s definition of religion encompassed? I asked him. He said that to include such things as Marxism and Scientific Naturalism in the definition is not advisable because, although adherents to these ideologies can be religiously devoted to them, broadening the term too much would extinguish any avenue for discourse. He did, however, agree that non-religious ideologies can be as coercive as religious ones.
I am left to wonder what principles ought to guide non-religious citizens? Do unto others? A Bible verse? Isn’t that fundamentally illogical from his point of view? I wish I had stayed behind to press him on this, but … I was wearing sweat pants and grungy sneakers, and little make-up on the way to a jog. Not exactly the best public face for debating a scholar of superior intellect.
When I began homeschooling my children some years ago, it was, in part, because of coercion in their public school system. Integral to the “Whole Language” curriculum that had come to us from California was a strong multicultural component. As Thanksgiving neared in my son’s third grade class, readings in Native American literature increased. Included among this reading was a Native American creation story. Additionally, a Native American came in and talked about her religious beliefs and rituals. I was okay with this. Our school system generally did a good job of respecting the varieties of religions that were represented in our community.
But then, as part of the Thanksgiving celebration, the children put on a play, which I attended. In it, the Pilgrims thanked the “Indians” and the “Indians” thanked the Pilgrims. Nobody thanked the Pilgrim’s God. What I witnessed was not a story I recognized. I went to the library and confirmed for myself that the Pilgrim’s faith and clear motive for celebrating Thanksgiving had been edited from this history lesson. I complained to the school principal and was told that it was a separation of church and state issue. The superintendent of schools wisely disagreed. I’m not sure what happened as a result because this situation, along with other academic and social issues that were shaped by dogmatic political ideology, convinced me to withdraw my children from the public school system for several years.
Here is an example of coercion that prioritized a minority religion over the majority one. The example demonstrates the merit in Audi’s principle of natural reason.
Yesterday I attended the afternoon sessions of another seminar at UCI, titled “Politics, Psychology and Ethics.” I heard two European scholars talk about religion and public life. Orla Muldoon, head of the department of Psychology at the University of Limerick, Ireland, talked about identity and social change in Northern Ireland.
She mentioned the “Good Friday Agreement,” but quickly corrected herself, saying the terminology gave her away as a Catholic. Protestants call it the “Belfast Agreement.” Either way, Muldoon said the agreement codified division by creating two political parties based on conflicting religious indentities. While moderate third parties flourished for a while, these have disappeared and given way to a zero-sum game. Political negotiation is about minimizing loss for self and gain for the opponent. Even those who hold no real religious conviction are shaped by the divisions. They may not identify fully with one side, but are quite sure they don’t want to be identified with the other. Sounds familiar.
Muldoon talked about emotionally charged signifiers. For example, a lily is a Catholic symbol and a poppy is a Protestant one. The symbols are so potent that a Catholic television journalist who refused to wear a poppy on Remembrance Day forfeited her career as a result. For Muldoon, leaving Northern Ireland brought immense relief in that she no longer had to worry about such signifiers. She mentioned the development of a unique Northern Irish identity that rejects polarizing labels, but said that for those who have been traumatized by violence, traditional identities are difficult to abandon. However, the absense of violence is helpful in creating space to negotiate new identities.
I did not take notes on the other speaker, Catarina Kinnvall, a political scientist from Lund University in Sweden. Her talk was titled “Being too (in) tolerant? Radical Islam and the ethics of multiculturalism in Scandanavia.” Kinnvall focused solely on the rise of radical Islam among the youth of Denmark and Sweden. She said Sweden has relied on pluralistic means of accomodating its Muslim immigrants, which marginalizes in its own way, while Denmark has chosen an assimilationist, and some might say annihilationist, approach. Kindvall said it is difficult for her to even find appropriate language to discuss her topic without inflaming passions of both Muslims and those prejudiced against them. She reminded us that most Muslims are not radicals.
I mention these two talks because they highlight where I think we don’t want to go as a nation. And yet, listen to the heightened discourse over religious identity in our own presidential race. Obama claims that there has been a concerted effort to label him a Muslim. This fact alone is deeply troubling. First someone surmises, correctly I’m sure, that our fear of Islam is so great that if he were a Muslim, and a closet one at that, he would be instantly discredited as a candidate. Second, a candidate for the presidency of the United States is willing to inflame religious strife in order to get elected. Third, religious identity is so vital to getting elected that nearly every candidate has to defend (or fake) their own faith commitment. Finally, the non-religious have so demonized people of faith (and we them) that everyone is on the defensive. Do we really want to keep playing a zero-sum game?
I like what Audi said about the sovereignty of God. If people of faith really believe that God is in charge, shouldn’t that belief temper our public discourse? As a writer who sometimes advocates a position, I don’t really think in terms of winning. I think about contributing to a public conversation. Sometimes a rebuttal spurs my thinking further, or changes my mind entirely. Sometimes, my own convictions are reinforced.
Still, I’m left to wonder if Audi wants a better deal for the non-religious or nominally religious. I wonder how and why he limited both his discussion and his definition. That he did reinforces mistrust.
[©cas 208, all rights reserved]
I’ll once again be attending this year’s NIH course at CHOC. For scientists interested in all types of stem cell research, here are the details:
The following information is for the NIH-sponsored Human Embryonic Stem
Cell Culture Training Course to be held at the Children’s Hospital of
Orange County (CHOC), in Orange, California, March 4-13, 2008. Please
post/forward to all interested colleagues, staff, and students.
This Human Embryonic Stem Cell Culture Training Course brings together
some of the leading experts on embryonic stem cell technology, and
through comparative approaches, train students in the successful culture,
maintenance, and manipulation of embryonic stem cells.
The on-line application can be found on the National Human Neural Stem
Cell Resource web site – www.nhnscr.org – simply by following the link
on the left side-bar. A full description of the course as well as the
faculty and facilities can also be found on this site.
The tuition for the course has been set at $1,500. This covers all
supplies and materials for the course. There are additional costs for
meals, housing, and transportation between the hotel and the teaching
facility and these will be described in the registrations materials sent to
accepted applicants. It is expected that these costs will range between
$2,250 and $3,000, depending negotiated rates. In addition, students
are responsible for travel costs between the hotel and their homes/home
institutions.
The on-line application deadline is January 11, 2008, but applications
submitted after that time will be considered if space is still
available.
Prospective students will be notified of their acceptance/rejection
after January 18, 2008. There is room for 12 students for this course.
Prospective students should also indicate in an accompanying e-mail if
they wish to be considered for the next course.
Full tuition deposits for accepted students are due by February 8,
2008.
Please note the following:
1) Limited scholarship support is available for under-represented
minorities who meet US citizenship requirements. To apply, contact the
course director.
2) Applicants need not be Principal Investigators or Program Directors
but, if not, the applicant must provide written confirmation from their
Principal Investigator or Program Director that they will use the
skills that they have learned at the course upon return to their home
laboratory.
3) Applicants (or their Principal Investigators or Program Directors)
must provide written evidence that they already have human embryonic
stem cells or written evidence of intent to procure human embryonic stem
cells.

[Fuzzy San Diego, cas 2007]
Earlier this year, the spiritual advisor to the Queen of England spoke at a fundraiser for my church’s legal defense. It was my introduction to life as an Anglican in Newport Beach. The fundraiser was held at the yacht club. Jeff and I were seated with some senior citizens, a couple of whom were downing Scotch while singing along with the worship band. A priest wearing ornate red robes stood out amidst the crowd. “Who is that?” we asked. The spiritual advisor to the queen. Ohhh.
The queen’s guy had nothing on N.T. Wright, Bishop of Durham, in terms of crowd-hushing presence. Wright wasn’t wearing robes, but when he walked to the podium at AAR, people seemed to anticipate something profound. I’m not sure he said anything profound, but he resonated with me, partly because I’m neither a “fluffy” postmodernist nor a linear-thinking modernist, and partly, I think, because I’m from New Jersey and we like our Scotch neat. (That’s metaphor; I don’t drink Scotch.)
The Bishop said the idea of God in Public is a topic society should have been addressing for a long time. (Haven’t we been arguing about this in the United States for a couple hundred years?) In the split world of the Enlightenment, even William Wilberforce committed a faux pas by employing a biblically-based political critique in his abolitionist rhetoric.
Wright said belief in the Bible and in the bodily resurrection of Christ are both fading, but that the rise in fundamentalism is alarming. Once again I heard that the secularist/fundamentalist dance is two opposing modernist narratives that are “running out of steam.” He described the dance as a “stunning example of missing the point.”
(Here he noted, with what sounded like disapproval, that the American Academy of Religion and the Society for Biblical Literature have split under criticism that their relationship was evidence of religious bias in the Academy.)
The Enlightenment dream ultimately “eats its own tail,” in Wright’s view. Reason inevitably descends into spin, which degenerates further into emotivism.
Wisdom takes a different track.
He suggested that much of evangelicalism is based on the Epistles rather than the Gospels and said this mirrors a larger problem of not knowing what the Gospels are for. He believes they provide the basis for the idea of God in Public. In the Gospels, God is reclaiming the world as his own in and through Jesus. They demonstrate what the world looks like with God running the show.
Wright said both Hitchens and Nietzsche work from the perspective of “God as tyrant,” but the coming of God into the world is the confrontation of alientating and dehumanizing tryants.
He suggested an integrated reading of the Gospels and mentioned both Luke 4 and the Sermon on the Mount. He stood the Gospels up against all comers, saying the kingdom Jesus brought was emphatically for this world, defeating both tyranny and chaos, Modernism and “fluffy” postmodernism. He said that the Gospel narrative read this way “resists deconstructionist power games.” It is, instead, the impetus for renewal and the final coming together of heaven and earth.
This is where he called the religious right a “clumsy attempt” at trying to bring God back into public life “without understanding why or how this makes sense.” (He had earlier stated that in England there is no religious right, only a religious left. He seemed to favor neither one.) He then said something about launching a “political hermaneutic of suspicion.” The Gospels, in contrast, are the story of God’s public kingdom project that summons the whole world to repentance and faith.
He quoted Psalm 2, and said the creator God reigns through order, not chaos. He mentioned Jim Wallis’ new book, but said we need a more firmly grounded Creationist order. Even corrupt order is better than chaos, in Wright’s view. He mentioned John 19, I Corinthians 2, and Colossians 2 as a biblical basis for this position. He affirmed the legitimacy of confronting corrupt leaders, saying the rulers of this age inevitably twist God-ordained authority into the satanic possibility of tryanny. However, the cross offers a paradoxical victory. It is tyranny confronted and overthrown (Romans 13).
God is a god of order, even if He has, inevitably, to judge that order.
In the New Testament, Jesus is already Lord of heaven and earth. The Spirit was given so the world would be called to account. The reign of the Spirit is demonstrated in works of justice, mercy, beauty, and through relationship.
He said we must collaborate without compromise and critique without dualism. He denounced our present “glorification of democracy,” which, in his view, stems from Enlightenment dualism. Holding governments to account demands, however, that the church is called to account as well. He suggested that we welcome both prophetic witness and reform within our communities.
Wright said, “In all kinds of ways, we are moving toward post-postmodernism.” He failed to defend this statement.
As to modernism and postmodernism, he dismissed one as boring and trivial and the other as dangerous and dehumanizing. You decide which is which. He didn’t say. I can conjure arguments either way, despite the obvious implication.
The Bishop of Durham concluded by saying we must take seriously the biblical witness to God in public, and develop a wise exegesis for the common good, while rejecting the shrill certainties of fundamentalism and the necessary nihilism of the postmodern reaction.
This is why I liked him. He sounded like a realist.
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