The Divine Life of Animals [Part 1]

To my long-lost readers, I offer my deepest and most shameless apologies. We are rapidly approaching the one year anniversary of my last posting. In an attempt (yet again) to eradicate what--to anyone who has sought after any semi-regular writing regimen--seems to be an unyielding tendency towards silence and failure, I have decided to undertake a book review of sorts. My ultimate goal however is not critical, but conversational. After a period of digestion (or gestation, as the case may be), I will simply dump my thoughts into the void you and I, dear reader, currently occupy. Onward:

The Divine Life of Animals: One Man's Quest to Discover Whether the Souls of Animals Live On

Introduction

Disregarding its title, my purposes in reading this book have nothing to do with the kind of New Age, All Dogs Go to Heaven, Hollywood Hinduism it seems to imply. I picked up this book because it has long been my conviction that something is missing from the standard way of talking about animals and the created world we share with them. Even as I say that, it strikes me that in typical contemporary discourse on any topic related to nature, the idea that we actually share anything with animals is a foreign one. By this I mean more than the human choice to share one's household with an animal, or tossing seeds and breadcrumbs at a few of the wild ones, or even our moral obligation to protect their natural habitat. What I am interested in exploring is the spiritual identity of all created things; an identity we share in communion with as co-participants in the self-revelation of God. This book may or may not go into these things, but I hope at least it will be a springboard.

In this opening chapter, Tompkins brings up two interesting points of discussion. The first is a very brief exploration of the word nephesh as it appears in the Hebrew scriptures. This word is a rich, multi-faceted word which, when translated into English, is flattened out as the fairly generic word soul. He illustrates that, for the ancients, one's nephesh was not an etherial thing or essential meta-self which goes away to Heaven when we die. "Indeed, our nephesh is what makes each of us who we are" (9). In Genesis, God breathes nephesh into the nose of Adam, creating the first human. Tompkins is fairly successful here in helping break down our cultural resistance to an idea such as the animal soul. I also think this enriched conceptualization of what soul is can be helpful in our own self-understanding as image-bearers. Scripture is very clear that God is not simply interested in 'soul-winning' or taking us away from our bodies. Our physical bodies are to be redeemed, as they themselves are essential to our identity. Nephesh, the soul, is not a removed spirit that eventually flees elsewhere; it is the breath in our lungs, the blood in our veins, and our eternal identity as living things. That being said, I think more discussion is needed in regards to whether or not there is a distinction between our identity as created (living) things, and personhood.

The second point brought up in the introduction I found noteworthy addresses the transition between the child's innocent emotional/spiritual connection to and sense of wonderment towards creation--particularly animals--and the removed, informed coldness of adulthood toward the same. "'Children often identify with animals in ways that amuse and frustrate us...spending emotion with an abandon that adults, with their thrifty investments and prudent decisions, cannot afford'" (11). Tompkins gives several examples of ways in which children, who know about death, and see it in various forms in media frequently, are often struck by the horror of death seemingly for the first time when it is related to animals. As a child, the author was moved by an experience attempting to feed a starving dog in Mexico and being met with reproach by his mother who saw his actions as wasteful. He had surely seen hungry people before, but I think most of us would agree children have a unique relationship with animals and seem to have an intuitive inclination towards sharing life with them in a way that is lost with age. I resonated with this discussion myself. I don't recall the name of the movie or much of what it was about, but the important point is that the story revolved around a real, not cartoon otter. As I remember it, the otter is accidentally killed in a creek by a human digging with a shovel. For months afterward, maybe even years (my parents would know better), my bed-time prayers included, "Help me forget the otter movie." There's no doubt in my mind I had encountered death before in movies or playing cowboys and Indians, but there was something about an emotional connection I made with that animal that made the reality of death hit me for the first time: Things die. When they die, they're not here anymore. When I, with my child's mind tried to see where they would be after that, all I saw was a blank space. The idea of nothingness scared me more than any monster or nightmare.

Potable Quotable: 

"We patronize [animals] for their incompleteness, for their tragic fate of having taken form so far below ourselves. And therein we err, and greatly err. For the animal shall not be measured by man. In a world older and more complete than ours they move finished and complete, gifted with extensions of the senses we have lost or never attained, living by voices we shall never hear. They are not brethren, they are not underlings; they are other nations, caught with ourselves in the net of life and time, fellow prisoners of the splendor and travail of the earth" (12). -Henry Beston

Cultural Isolationism: The American Right and NYC

In case you haven't had the chance to talk to a conservative lately: THE MUSLIMS ARE TRYING TO BUILD A MOSQUE IN NEW YORK CITY ON GROUND ZERO AND ANY PATRIOTIC, CAPITALISM-LOVING AMERICAN SHOULD BE UTTERLY OFFENDED!!

When I first heard about the proposed plans to build a mosque near the former World Trade Center site, my initial response was pretty mild; I really didn't care. Then, to my surprise, several weeks later I realized we were in the midst of a media explosion concerning what had apparently become a supremely important, hot-button issue. Shortly thereafter I could not believe the extent to which people were losing their minds over the whole thing.

I have no interest in recapping (as I'm sure you have no interest in re-reading) this whole debacle from start to finish. I would, however, like to simply stake up a few points and present my interpretation of one side of these events, considering I have very limited knowledge of what is actually taking place 'on the ground,' as it were. 

Cultural Isolationism: The American Right

I have to say the irony here is hilarious to me. For the last 2 years, the Right has tirelessly undergone a flash makeover from the aggressive neo-conservatism of George W. Bush and John McCain to a nostalgic, half-baked constitutionalism led by media stars such as Glenn Beck and Sarah Palin rather than traditional politicians. So, I suppose it's no surprise that the precious Constitution of the United States--tearfully clung to when fighting taxes and gun laws--has so suddenly been put in check by questions of prudence and (imagine!) contingency.

That being said, it seems clear that with the November elections rapidly approaching, the party of Rush Limbaugh and Newt Gingrich have thrown their ideals out the window in order to concoct a very powerful wedge issue. The republic as we know it cannot function efficiently when people try to understand one another and find some unum in their pluribus. When we are on the eve of an election, it is essential for citizens to be pushed as far to one side or another in order to ensure a decisive victory.

The goal here, as per usual for the GOP since 9/12/01, is to exploit the emotional memories of September 11 to conjure up an Us vs. Them situation which I'm calling Cultural Isolationism. In the same way economic isolationism seeks to protect domestic product and labor by shutting out all outside influence, I see recent trends in conservative politics trying to protect American culture--and I should stress that this is an idealized, fabricated notion of the true founding-fathers-judeo-christian-American culture--and 'American values' by seeking to divide and isolate.

We must be extremely mindful of what is going on here, and what the results will be if we allow a very select few to determine what American culture--or perhaps more accurately, American demographics--should look like. For the American right, it's clear this Islamic center issue is not a Constitutional one. Nor is it even an issue of respect for the dead. This has everything to do with fear and power. Fear of the outside, fear of appearing weak, and power to melt the great American experiment down to a neatly defined, isolated conservative reduction.

There is really no debate, as far as I can tell, over whether anyone has the right to build a place of worship; of course they do. Furthermore, we all know it's wrong to forbid someone from building a place of worship just because they are of the same religion as a random group of terrorists. Let's instead think about who is benefiting from this even being a debate, and whose lives go by the wayside while it happens.

On Single Party Rule or Democracy

Last week on Hardball, Chris Matthews brought up what I thought were some pretty poignant observations regarding the current political landscape in the United States:

I think this analysis is simple and spot-on, and it struck a chord with me by bringing to the fore an underlying ethos that seems to be so prevalent in ever-evolving conservative circles such as the tea party movement (and this is not to say it is not also present in much of the Democrat Party) which states, "We alone have access to the truth on how to run the country; if you're not one of us, you're out." I've always found the tea parties to be wholly uninspiring and relatively confusing; the only unifying thread as far as a political philosophy is CUT TAXES--or, if we're being generous we might be able to add KEEP THE MEXICANS OUT to the platform. Yes, people are entitled to their ideology, but why is this problematic politically?

Matthews here is pointing towards a key aspect of democratic societies that is being neglected in increasingly troubling ways both in the United States and Europe. Democracy by definition is pluralistic. I strongly believe that despite the way we typically think of democratic processes (particularly voting) as majority rule, democracy must include empowering and allowing a voice for the minority (or more accurately, minorities; and by this, I mean any person[s] either not represented by the majority, or neglected by its policies). As evidenced by the latest parliamentary election in the Netherlands, this idea can be rapidly forgotten amidst fear and xenophobia in the face of cultural change.

If we are to retain the idea of democracy any longer, we ought never adopt platforms which seek to homogenize or exclude. Rather, we should be vigilantly generous and hospitable; inviting the Other in, and seeking out any voice which is not being heard.

Deconstructions of the Fourth Kind: The Church, Apologetics, and Horror Flicks

1.

I think we often underestimate the horror/sci-fi genre. I recently watched The Fourth Kind, a film about alien abductions starring the equally underrated Milla Jovovich. The film is fairly unique in that its aim is to present itself as a direct portrayal of actual events by interspersing 'actual footage' and 'real audio' compiled from various events surrounding a series of fourth kind encounters in the city of Nome, Alaska. Often, 'actual' and 'dramatized' scenes are shown on screen simultaneously. Jovovich even appears on screen at the beginning of the film, giving a sort of public service disclaimer:

I'm actress Milla Jovovich, and I will be portraying Dr. Abigail Tyler in The Fourth Kind. This film is a dramatization of events that occurred October 1st through the 9th of 2000, in the Northern Alaskan town of Nome. To better explain the events of this story, the director has included actual archived footage throughout the film. This footage was acquired from Nome psychologist Dr. Abigail Tyler, who has personally documented over 65 hours of video and audio materials during the time of the incidents. To better protect their privacy, we have changed the names and professions of many of the people involved. Every dramatized scene in this movie is supported by either archived audio, video or as it was related by Dr. Tyler during extensive interviews with the director. In the end, what you believe is yours to decide. Please be advised, that some of what you're about to see is extremely disturbing.

This opening scene is striking to me in that it really (whether purposefully or not) speaks to the entire philosophical crux of the film. On the surface, when the audience is told that what they believe is theirs to decide, the question seems to concern whether or not they will choose to believe that intelligent life exists elsewhere than earth and that these life forms have indeed been encountered and interacted with.

However, the underlying issue illustrated by this scene is not a decision regarding the facts, but rather, the filmmaker.

2.

As a kid, I picked up slight-of-hand card tricks as a hobby and still enjoy doing them, though I don't dedicate the same amount of time to it that I used to. One of my favorite tricks, and one that consistently baffles people despite its simplicity, owes its success to me, the magician, blatantly lying about what is transpiring without the knowledge of you, the observer; the shocking reveal as the desired cards are produced at the end of the trick is only amazing if you believe that I have indeed done what I said I did in order to get there--and you always do.

The reveal in the film--increasingly intense 'actual' footage and audio--is more than convincing if it is accepted as such; it would take a lot of explaining to describe why one would not believe the conclusion the film logically leads us to. The real question the audience is faced with in the film is whether or not the filmmakers are lying when they say that this is 'actual footage,' etc; certainly the film is much scarier if the observer believes it is. Herein lies the brilliance of a horror film like Michael Haneke's Funny Games: While it has become a trend in the genre to rely on the perceived reality or realness of the events to elicit the desired response from the audience, Haneke bucks this impulse at every turn and constantly reminds the viewer of the interpretive process.

The film constantly reminds you that it is a film, and that it, not you, determines what you see and when. It is without this crutch that Haneke finds a way to freak you out regardless.

3.

I've always had an aversion towards apologetics; at least the kind of apologetics used either to 'convince' unbelievers of the validity of Christian doctrine, or to frame Christianity in such a way as to make it appear 'reasonable' to those who do not adhere to it. Let it be known that I would not reject the usefulness of apologetics altogether; we of course ought to know the Scriptural reasons why we believe what we believe. But, there seems to be a line that systematic theology almost always steps over, where apologetics seems to merely subjugate the narrative nature of our faith to the modern Enlightenment's ideas of how pure (i.e. male, white, etc.) reason can break free of its own contextuality in order to grasp--on it's own--'universal' truth.

Even in this compromised state, apologetics fails in its task of 'convincing.' Christian apologetics consistently (and necessarily) fall back on the Holy Scriptures as their starting point. However, this appeal, while having the benefit of being simple, is nonetheless seen as circular to one who does not accept those Scriptures as authoritative, inspired, infallible, or true. In other words, at some point, traditional apologetics, like The Fourth Kind, require the audience to accept certain notions about the starting point itself. One must first accept that the filmmaker not only has correctly interpreted all the necessary information, but is also telling the truth about it.

So, the real question systematic theology fails to ask, and the question the Church should be a living answer to in my opinion, is not "How can we prove that our beliefs are true?" but rather, "How can we show that we believers (and the tradition we follow) are truthful?" Perhaps the distinction is a subtle one, but I hope what I'm getting at is fairly clear. If we go back to Funny Games, in contrast, we can perhaps see the benefit of not requiring as a prerequisite that those outside first buy into any number of background assumptions that we within have learned how to accept. Perhaps we can find a way to say, "This is not a documentary, this is a horror film. If the Christian faith were as simple as finding the right objective information to prove its reality, then it wouldn't be a faith at all. So let's be up front and honest about what's going on here."

This is why I am far more attracted to the notion of creeds, as opposed to a bulleted list of propositional truths. There is one line in particular from the Nicene Creed that I think will perhaps tie all of these things together nicely:

We believe in one holy catholic and apostolic church.

This may get me into hot water with my Reformed-leaning friends, but to me, this seems to sit prior in importance to doctrinal tools such as sola Scriptura. I say this because the Word does not hang in a vacuum where any logical person will find and accept it on their own. I think even Scripture is self-aware of this. Here, Paul--perhaps the most black and white, type-A, right-brained, logical thinker in the canon--describes our faith not as an objectively perceivable truth to be proven, but rather as a powerful mystery to be proclaimed. (I would encourage you to read through 1 Corinthians 1-2 once now and again after finishing this article for a better sense of what I'm aiming at, as this passage illustrates much of this perfectly.)

In the creed, we not only affirm that we believe one holy catholic and apostolic church exists, but also that we believe and practice faith in--within--the same. There is one gospel (catholic), and that narrative has been preserved (holy) throughout history by being passed on from those who witnessed with their own eyes (apostolic) the fullness of its mystery. Recalling the transfiguration of our Lord, Peter reminds us to hold onto and embrace this, not dismiss it in favor of rhetorical arguments.

If the Church is to shed outdated notions of how salvation is a matter of using human wisdom to convince people of the truth, we must start by embracing our own identity; a unified, communal identity instituted at the cross. This identity is embodied in the Church, where the many are welcomed as one body, the Body of Christ, into God's presence. The union is not a logical social contract and there are no legal or scientific means to describe or prove what we have experienced in our lives and what the apostles witnessed with their eyes.

We might simply point to the Eucharist and invite others to partake. To me, the Eucharist is the greatest testament to the mystical union that has taken place between Christ and those who want to know him as Messiah. Not only is there immense power in receiving the Body and Blood, united with one another in spirit, but the great mystery of Christ made present adds what I think is a very real physical aspect to our collective identity of being His Body.

This is so much more beautiful and real than bulleted apologetic arguments. And hopefully, by calling the world into this picture, we won't have to rely on fooling them into thinking Christianity is something it is not; namely, some sort of rationalized scientific system. (This is not to say that faith lies in opposition to science; quite the contrary.) We are called to stand out from the world and its systems that have been tried and reinvented ad nauseum throughout the millenia. We hope that if nothing else, we are seen as truthful when with full conviction we proclaim the great mystery of our faith:

Christ has died.
Christ is risen.
Christ will come again.

Okay, Glenn Beck (Rights, the Constitution, and Soviet Aesthetics)

From time to time I purposely subject myself to things like Glenn Beck's television show. Call it a kind of monastic self-flagellation. I try to be well-rounded in my consumption of political commentary, and I really do believe that we all benefit from hearing things from a different perspective. On one particular occasion, however, after watching a mere 13 minutes of his program, my head hurt so much that I couldn't even laugh at the absurdity of what was being spewed.

I love a good discussion, and I love hearing opinions that are not mine. But, dear Glenn Beck, please, for my sake, ensure that your opinions at least make sense.I've taken the liberty of transcribing the best part to give you an accurate representation of what was actually said without leaving anything out and without paraphrasing, but if you can stomach it, you can watch the full, weird, pathetic, woeful lamentation here (and i don't hesitate to use those words, because sounding pathetic and woeful is clearly Beck's shtick). Beck began his program by using an old wooden chair to represent the quote-unquote true America as it was in its 'original state.' Then came:

There were rallies today in California and all around the country (facing video of protesters lining the streets with placards). They were promoted as--look at these pinheads--they were promoted as 'saving education.' Well who--who doesn't want to save education? But the education budget wasn't the real goal. Let me show you a little something about the people involved in these protests. These were the posters that were used to promote this (walking toward a large poster featuring a slogan, and a logo of a fist on a book, painted in red, black, and white hues). Right here: 'Education is a human right.' Really? Wow. Education is a human right--boy this--almost looks like old, Soviet propaganda art dud'n'it? These people feel so strongly about education, you think they'd be educated to know that education is not a right. The Constitution doesn't mention that one. Let me clarify that; the United Sates Constitution doesn't mention that; this one does (holding a red document inscribed with Russian writing). This one. This is the Soviet constitution. Oh, it mentions education; free education for everybody, mhm. Let me help. Save the education. Rights do not come from government, they never have. If they do, you end up with a completely different government. You end up with a footstool or you end up with, what are those things that--stockades. Your rights come from God. If government grants you rights then you're a slave to the government, because if they grant them, they can also take them away. In America you don't have that right. This is what knowing what this chair is all about is all about. You gotta know what it is. Adding in education is just adding another coat of ugly paint; another ding, another scratch, somebody else just standing on it or, whatever. It wasn't designed to do that. If you want government to start granting rights then perhaps it's time to start looking for something other than a chair. Something entirely different than this because that's not what this one does. That's what this one does (raising the Soviet constitution).

First, I just want to lay out one of Beck's lines of persuasion: If the the cause is protected by the Soviet constitution (and the art looks Soviet!), then the cause is fought for by communists. Therefore, I'd like to point out to Glenn that article 53 of the Soviet constitution defines marriage as being between one man and one woman. Right now, Mr. Beck, there are people--people protesting to have an identical article added to our sacred constitution. Here--in the God-blessed U.S. of A.! Please, Glenn--reveal this conspiracy to the world. Stop these pinheads from passing these--they call them 'protection of marriage' acts--but we know what the real goal is.

Second, I think Beck is very confused in regards what he actually thinks about the nature of rights. Granted, his job is to say things, not to think about them, so we must offer him a measure of grace. Let's try to help him out, though, by pointing out a few conflicting little nuggets:

• "...education is not a right. The Constitution doesn't mention that one." Again, let's lay out this logic: The U.S. Constitution does not cite education as being a right. Therefore, education is not a right. We can also infer based on this argumentation that the Constitution is exhaustive in its delineation of rights, since we should not be adding more. Furthermore, we have assurance that by way of granting us the rights it does mention, the document also assures them to us against forces which might seek to take them away. Fair enough.

• "If government grants you rights then you're a slave to the government, because if they grant them, they can also take them away." Wait, Glenn, so are you saying that you and I and all U.S. citizens are enslaved by the Constitution rather than liberated by it?

• "Rights do not come from government, they never have." Oh, okay good, you had me scared for a second there. But you're still appealing to the Constitution to hold your whole argument together. So, if the rights granted in the Constitution are not granted by the government, then who grants them?

• "Your rights come from God." Alright, I'm following. Our rights come from God, and the Constitution is an explanation of those rights. Now, just so i can pass this knowledge on to unbelievers, can you point out to me the Scriptures the founding fathers used when they were putting this list of rights together? Maybe just the ones talking about the right to form a well-regulated militia, protection from quartering of troops, protection from unreasonable search and seizure, oh and right to counsel, I better memorize that verse, prohibition of excessive bail, and lastly, since states' rights is a big issue right now, where in the Bible should I look to show people that powers not delegated to the United States are reserved to the states or the people? ...what do you mean there's nothing in the Bible about that? Okay, I get it, so the United States Constitution is an extra-Biblical revelation the founding fathers of the nation were divinely inspired to write down. Got it.

The talented Mr. Beck has apparently acquired the unique ability to believe three distinctly different things about the nature of rights at the same time! Rights are granted by the Constitution and rights have never come from government (in fact, "If you want government to start granting rights then perhaps it's time to start looking for something other than a chair") and political rights come from God!

Well, I do think Glenn is right about one thing. If your entire conception of the rights we now or ever could have is based on the U.S. Constitution (the version we have in 2010), then you truly are a slave to it. And I must stress here, on a philosophical basis, that more accurately, you are a slave to your conception of and interpretation of that piece of paper. In Beck's case, one can conveniently forget about something like the 9th amendment (my personal favorite):

The enumeration in the Constitution, of certain rights, shall not be construed to deny or disparage others retained by the people.

So here, I will try, on behalf of our good friend Glenn Beck to clear up some of his confusion:

• There are indeed certain fundamental things we know about humans, by nature of their being created in the image of God, which entitle them to certain rights.
• However, the rights themselves are not granted by God. It is people themselves who have the responsibility of recognizing these truths and seeking to allow various rights and responsibilities universally to others.
• In the case of the United States Constitution, our founding fathers wrote down an interpretation of--not an explanation of--the 'inalienable rights' they observed; they labored within their own personal/historical/social contexts to provide the nation with a basic understanding of these. So, for them it made sense that the right to vote applied only to white, land-owning males. However, over time, our interpretation of that same right has evolved.
• In addition to the evolution of recognized rights, our common collection of basic human rights, and our conceptions of them, is equally dynamic. Obviously, part of this is due to shifting collective political mindsets. However, I think the bigger reason is that the nature of our shared experiences is constantly changing. For example, not only have we chosen over time to collectively reject the idea of slavery itself, the picture we get of 21st century slavery is vastly different than the picture of 18th century slavery; the specific human rights relating to this issue often deal with things like forced sexual relations with children, as opposed to, say, racial domination.
• If the communal landscape is such that people choose to deem education a right, then by way of the liberties supposedly entitled to them by prior rights agreements within given communities (such as the Constitution), the people may choose to paint their chair whatever color they please. (Or create and adopt new agreements; see The Universal Declaration of Human Rights, drafted in 1948, believe it or not. See specifically article 26.)

As far as I can see, aside from blatant errors in argumentation, Beck's fundamental error is that of making the issue of Rights an ontological question, rather than a hermeneutic one (for that matter, I think he's forgotten that rights, in practice, are a political question!). So, it's no wonder all he has to grasp onto to hold his position together are bizarre conspiracies, fear tactics, and nostalgia. Though, I'm not sure if nostalgia is the right word for pining after bygone things that were never there in the first place; I think that might be more related to dementia.