A Definition and Application of "Religion"

As we come to the end of my third academic year, I am doing a mental review of what I can change and improve for next year. As chaplain and religion teacher, one of the conversations I quite frequently get into is exactly what is religion, and what counts as the study of religion. In particular, certain vexing questions are often asked:

Does religion require positing a God or other Divine Beings? If so, what do we do with religions that do not have an explicit place for Divine Beings, such as various forms of Buddhism or Confucianism?

If we are going to define religion in such a way that we include "religions" that do not have God(s), what stops anything from becoming a religion? If I have an ultimate concern for finding the ultimate grilled cheese sandwich, and I pursue this concern "religiously", does that then make me an adherent of the religion "Grilled Cheese Sandwichism"?

RELIGION DEFINED

In pondering this and working through my own understanding of what makes Religion genuinely "religious", I have worked out the following definition:

"A Religion is a community formed around a shared consciousness, and bounded by a shared creed, code, and cult."

This definition is based around what I teach as the "5 C's" of religion: Community, Consciousness, Creed, Code, and Cult. Since these terms are being used in a special sense, I will further sub-define what I mean by each.

1. Community: A group of people who share common characteristics, who can be identified as members of the religious community both by those inside, as well as those outside, the religion. In order for religion to be religion, it must be practiced by a community. It cannot be merely a privately held belief, or a superstition or ritual practiced by an individual. It must be a comprehensive system that is shared by a group. As such, while "spirituality" or "philosophy" may be held by individuals, a religion is a communal activity.

2. Consciousness: An awareness of an essential defining feature of life, whether that is (a) a shared Founder, Prophet or Spokesperson for the Divine, (b) a shared History, Narrative or Story, (c) a shared cultural and ethnic Identity, (d) a shared sense of Ultimate Concern, or (e) a shared experience of Transcendent Reality. This consciousness must be "essential" to the communal and personal life of the members of the religion, in the sense that, without this consciousness, they would experience profound existential difficulty and disorientation, even to the point of finding it difficult to continue life together.

3. Creed: A shared cognitive understanding of what Reality is, whether rigorously defined in an actual creed, confession, or catechism, or loosely held as a set of viewpoints that explain how Reality works.

4. Code: A shared affective commitment to a set of morals, values, or virtues which guide how we should act in the world, whether rigorously defined in an ethical system, or loosely held as a set of taboos and expectations.

5. Cult: A shared volitional enactment of a set of rituals and practices which rehearse and re-present the consciousness, creed, and code of the community. This includes the materials, artifacts, tools, time, and places that are set apart for use in these rituals and practices.

Boundaries: And finally, religious communities tend to have a central, and a peripheral, way of defining who is, and is not, part of the religion.

At the center of the community is their defining consciousness. If someone does not possess this central consciousness, even if they hold/perform the creed, code and cult, they are often not considered as fully or legitimately part of the religion by other practitioners of the religion.

Likewise, on the periphery, the creed, code, and cult forms a "boundary mechanism" to define who can, and cannot, legitimately consider themselves a member of the religion. Most religions have an implicit or explicit scale of peripheral boundary inclusion and exclusion.

Though using different kinds of terminology, this usually has a scale that ranges from:
1. "Orthodox" (those who well within the boundaries of the creed, code, and cult)
2. "Heterodox" (those who skirt the boundary, or who add in elements from other religions or worldviews)
3. "Heretics" (those who substantially deviate in one area, but who otherwise are within the boundaries, and who consider themselves still to be an adherent to the religion)
4. "Proselytes" (those who are being drawn to the religion, but who have not yet fulfilled the criteria of creed, code or cult)
5. "Apostates" (those who consciously deny the boundaries of the religion and do not consider themselves members).

THE DEFINITION BRIEFLY APPLIED

Now, how does all of this impact what we can, and cannot, study as a religion? I will briefly deal with most of the "5 C's", starting with consciousness:

The type of consciousness that is at the center of various religions is wildly divergent, and this divergence is much of what gives rise to the differences found in different religions. As stated above, not all religions have a "sensus divinitatis" (sense of the Divine), so that they postulate a God or other Divine Beings as essential parts of Reality. Some religions are effectively agnostic or even atheist. Yet, all religions that I know of have a central community consciousness of Something or Someone that they coalesce around.

For monotheistic religions such as Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, this is a consciousness of a certain type of God. Yet, these religions also have a strong consciousness of shared history that holds them together: Jews coalesce around the story of Covenantal Calling, Exile, and Return; Christians around the life, death, and resurrection of Christ; Islam around the story of Muhammad.

For Buddhists, the story of the Buddha is important, but not the core of consciousness. Rather, Buddhists look to a common experience of Transcendent Reality in Enlightenment and Nirvana (even though this Transcendent Reality is NOT often interpreted as a God or Person). Sufi Muslims, Evangelical Christians, and Bhakti Hindus would also have consciousness of Transcendent Reality at the center of their religion, yet unlike Buddhists they WOULD interpret this Transcendent Other as a God whom one can personally know and love.

For Hindus and Jews, cultural and ethnic identity is as defining a feature as any in their communal consciousness. And both would stress a consciousness of the Ultimate Concern of conforming to one's communal "Duty": Jews in adherence to Torah, Hindus in concepts of dharma and karma. And almost all religions have the teachings of Founder(s) or Prophet(s), interpreted in Sacred Writings, in their communal consciousness: The Jews have Moses in the Tanakh; Christians have Jesus in the New Testament; Muslims have Muhammed in the Quran and Hadiths; Hindus have the writings of the Rishis in the Sruti and Smriti; Buddhists have the Buddha Dharma in the Tripitaka. Now, every religion has a different place for these Sacred writings: Some have them at the very center of their consciousness (Jews, Muslims), and some put experience, narrative, or ethnic identity ahead of them (Hindus, Buddhists).

Could then a group of atheists be said to practice a religion? Perhaps. It depends on whether they possess a common code or cult (see below). Certainly there are already atheist and agnostic religions. Various forms of Buddhism fit this bill, and they have a common creed, code, and cult. Likewise versions of Confucianism and Unitarian Universalism are effectively atheist religions. Certain forms of secular socialism- whether the French worship of the Goddess "Reason" in the late 1700's or Russian Marxism of the 1900's- certainly had a strongly defined creed, code, and cult while denying the existence of Reality beyond the strictly empirical. Recently in the U.S. and U.K. there have been stories of groups of atheists and agnostics gathering for shared rituals, songs, and encouragement in what are often called "secular churches" (cf. the work of the atheist philosopher Alain De Botton). These are certainly religions in the beginning stages.

Could then a fictional, farcical or satire religion be considered an actual religion? Again, it depends. Two infamous examples of this are the "Church of the Subgenius" (formed in the 1970's as part of Punk Rock culture) and the "Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster" (formed in the 2000's as part of the "New Atheist" culture). Neither has an identifiable communal structure, nor do they have (many) shared rituals. Rather, both were formed primarily to mock the perceived absurdity of existing religions, particularly "western" monotheistic religions.

For both, the "consciousness" at the center of their "religion" is mocking, inauthentic, and non-essential. That is, the whole religion could be dumped without changing the lives of the adherents at all, and without causing them any existential distress. To classify as a religion for me, a consciousness must be held by a community which they experience as essential to life: For instance, if Jews lost their Story, they would loose their identity; If Buddhists lost their experience of Enlightenment they would loose what makes them essentially human; Etc. Thus, the Churches of the Subgenius and Spaghetti Monster could be studied as protest movements, as works of satire, or as culture jamming. But studying them would not give a researcher insight into what it means to be an authentic adherent of religion.

On the other hand, the U.K. has had several recent censuses in which increasing numbers of people have identified their religion as "Jedi". Could this in fact be an actual religion, and no longer merely a fictional creation by George Lucas in the Star Wars media franchise? It is conceivable that there are people- perhaps many- who hold an essential consciousness of Star Wars' brand of "neo-hindu" metaphysics, in which we are part of "The Force", and in which we are engaged in an Epic Cosmic Struggle of "The Light Side" versus "The Dark Side" of this Force. They could see the Star Wars stories as a kind of founding Myth, presenting Spiritual Truths in Symbolic Form (i.e. Although the stories never happened in History, nevertheless they channel and re-present truths about metaphysical Reality). Thus it is conceivable that such a community could have an authentic consciousness of these "truths" as essential to their lives and identity. Furthermore, people who practice Jediism (or Jedi Religion) seem to have begun to organize. Simply google "Jedi Religion" and several websites will come up which are dedicated to Jedi "doctrine", ethical standards, and "canonical" stories. There even seems to be several communal rituals associated with this movement. So, is it a religion? I would say yes, albeit a very young and (as of now) ineffectively organized religion.

NEW ATHEISM AS RELIGION?

Now I want to return to the question of "Is atheism a religion?" Members of the "New Atheist" movement, such as Daniel Dennett, Sam Harris, Richard Dawkins and the late Christopher Hitchens, are very vocal that atheism and skepticism cannot and should not be considered a "religion". It is anathema to their creed to have their cognitive-social-emotional-aesthetic-political project lumped in together with the cognitive-social-emotional-aesthetic-political project of most religions. This, even though they share substantial overlap with the number of facets of human life affected by each system of adherence, namely that both are cognitive-social-emotional-aesthetic-political projects. The creedal structure of New Atheism is remarkably well outlined by Hitchens to possess elements of cognitive adherence, ethical norms, and even the beginnings of ritual/aesthetic enactments:

"Our belief is not a belief. Our principles are not a faith. We do not rely solely upon science and reason, because these are necessary rather than sufficient factors, but we distrust anything that contradicts science or outrages reason. We may differ on many things, but what we respect is free inquiry, openmindedness, and the pursuit of ideas for their own sake. We do not hold our convictions dogmatically... We are not immune to the lure of wonder and mystery and awe: we have music and art and literature, and find that the serious ethical dilemmas are better handled by Shakespeare and Tolstoy and Schiller and Dostoyevsky and George Eliot than in the mythical morality tales of the holy books. Literature, not scripture, sustains the mind and—since there is no other metaphor—also the soul. We do not believe in heaven or hell, yet no statistic will ever find that without these blandishments and threats we commit more crimes of greed or violence than the faithful... We are reconciled to living only once, except through our children, for whom we are perfectly happy to notice that we must make way, and room. We speculate that it is at least possible that, once people accepted the fact of their short and struggling lives, they might behave better toward each other and not worse. We believe with certainty that an ethical life can be lived without religion. And we know for a fact that the corollary holds true—that religion has caused innumerable people not just to conduct themselves no better than others, but to award themselves permission to behave in ways that would make a brothel-keeper or an ethnic cleanser raise an eyebrow. Most important of all, perhaps, we infidels do not need any machinery of [moral] reinforcement..." [God Is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything (pp. 9-10)]

Hitchens even begins this by trying to distance himself from religious "belief" by saying "our belief is not a belief". And, if by belief he means "trusting in explanations of the universe without any evidence or in spite of all evidence" then he is right. He does not hold a belief like that. But then again, almost NO ONE holds a belief like that. Most people, when asked to reflect on why they adhere to certain ideas about the universe, will point to various types of evidence, such as personal experience, trusted authorities, scientific investigation, logical connection, and ideas derived from literature. What we accept as evidence, how we weigh it, and what should be excluded, are all part of the philosophical discipline of epistemology. And epistemology in turn helps us determine which beliefs- i.e. cognitive ideas about how Reality works- are justified and which are not justified. So it is that Hitchens' list of New Atheist ideas are a list of which BELIEFS he holds to be rationally justified. Nevertheless, it is a creedal list of BELIEFS.

So, it is clear that "creed" is a demonstrable element of New Atheism. A collection of "canonical" literature from Dennett, Harris, Hitchens, and Dawkins will easily illustrate this, in addition to the extended quote above. And their "canonical literature" is also dripping with ethical pronouncements of right and wrong, good and evil, healthy and sick (cf. Hitchens' title "God is not Great: How religion poisons everything", which itself is an ethical rallying cry against other religions as sick, wrongful ways of ordering human life). Obviously, the element of moral "code" is part of New Atheism. And on behalf of a man I deeply respect and enjoy reading- Hitchens himself- I salute this element of New Atheism. His rants against other religions not withstanding, Hitchens in particular has a clear vision of an open liberal society based on universal justice. I can only pray that other religious leaders would gain such a clarity of vision and pronounce it as boldly as Hitchens did.

If it is demonstrable that "New Atheists" possess a central consciousness of ultimate concern (which they do), an implicit creedal structure about how Reality works (which they do), and a moral code which guides their decisions (which they do), the question now becomes: Do they have a cult? Hitchens himself starts to head there when he says "We are not immune to the lure of wonder and mystery and awe: we have music and art and literature". For Hitchens, and most other atheists, there are numerous practices which "sustain the mind and—since there is no other metaphor—also the soul". These practices include reading and discussing literature, engaging in debate, listening to music, viewing art, producing works of beauty, and enjoying the wonder of nature. But are these practices something engaged in as a community, regularly, as intentional acts of "cultic" practice? I do not think so. At least not yet for most Western atheists (as opposed to, say, Zen Buddhist atheists).

For this reason, I would not (yet) call New Atheism a religion.

RELIGION, ENACTMENT, AND EMBODIMENT

This lack of "cult" is not a praise for New Atheism. For, without "cult", how can they even organize as a cohesive social unit to accomplish reform and change in the larger society? If their community is to endure internally, and to effect change externally, they must organize to enact their beliefs. However, anything they do to intentionally organize and practice their beliefs and ethics together would then become "cult", and thus they would enter into the realm of religion. Without cult, New Atheism is simply deficient as a both a social movement and as a religion.

On the other hand, atheist philosophers such as Alain De Botton have realized this weakness in the New Atheist movement, and have begun to organize intentional communities with shared rituals and rites of passage. Much of the thought behind this can be found in his book "Religion for Atheists". The Christian philosopher Catherine Pickstock hit upon this deep truth in her 1997 work "After Writing: On the Liturgical Consummation of Philosophy". As the title alludes to, the work of philosophizing is not limited to devising systems of belief and ethics and then writing them down. In order for them to make a difference in human lives- embodied personal and communal lives- they must be embodied and enacted as a shared community. They must become the cult, the liturgy, of the community to be enacted in liturgical and practical ways.

This is true for Christian philosophy and Atheist philosophy, Buddhist philosophy and Marxist philosophy. All philosophy must find a way to be embodied and enacted or it is still-born or abortive. This is perhaps the greatest weakness of "New Atheism". It is not atheist enough precisely because it is not a religion: It does not have a cult to sustain and empower its practitioners to live into their convictions.

To put it in other terms, it seems that humans are "homo religiosus" (religious personal beings). The way we have evolved over time has hard-wired us for religion, for ritual, for enacting our convictions in social ways. Theists will say this hard-wiring is because evolution is intended by the Divine to make us into spiritual beings, while non-theists will say this hard-wiring is simply because of evolutionary advantage. Perhaps both are right. Whatever the metaphysical cause, to the extent we DO NOT enact and ritualize our convictions, we fail to live into our true humanity. Or perhaps we demonstrate that what we think we believe we do not actually believe, because we cannot imagine enacting it or are afraid to enact it.

And thus, we return to the definition of religion I am proposing, and how it affects how we judge our own, and other, religions. Perhaps one of the criteria by which we can judge the relative effectiveness or ineffectiveness of a religion is whether or not it can sustain a healthy community of practice over extended time which is identifiable in terms of consciousness, creed, code, and cult.

Can the core consciousness of a community issue forth into a comprehensible creed that seems to be coherent with Reality (at least as the adherents experience Reality)? Can it guide a consistent ethical code, and produce the type of moral actors that it calls for (i.e. if the moral system of a religion calls for us to practice peace and justice and compassion, does it actually, regularly produce people who embody peace and justice and compassion)? Finally, can this creed and code be enacted and embodied in rituals that sustain and nourish the community, and elicit the type of consciousness that is at the core of the community?

If the community cannot sustain its core consciousness, or forms practitioners who are at odds with the espoused moral values of the community, or implodes constantly in disagreement so it is unable to enact and ritualize its consciousness, it is an incomplete, unhealthy and ineffective religion. If, on the other hand, the community has a creed that elicits and empowers its core consciousness, it forms people who embody the core values of the community, and it has a vibrant cultic and social life, then it is an effective, healthy and comprehensive religion.

Of course, religion would have to be judged by other standards as well which are external to the religion itself. Does a religion possess a sufficient epistemology that is able to integrate knowledge claims that arise in the world outside of the community (i.e. from science or other cultures)? Does a religion contribute to the health and flourishing of society in general? How does the religion treat those who are outside of the religion? These are all vital questions. But it all leads to this realization:

Perhaps the question is not whether religion in general is good or bad, or whether or not we will be religious. Perhaps, instead, we need to realize that we are all implicitly religious, and tend to form communities with a central consciousness, bounded by creed, code, and cult, so that we can be fully human. The question then becomes not "whether we will be religious", but "whether or not the religion we practice is healthy and effective, or unhealthy and ineffective".



*A final note: The idea that religion is formally bounded by the alliterated words "Creed, Code, and Cult" was first brought to my attention by the Catholic Philosopher Peter Kreeft. Although we may have areas of disagreement, I think this is pretty catchy and substantially correct, so I have built my definition upon it. Thank you Dr. Kreeft.

Theodicy in Outline

In light of the recent Boston Bombings, I thought I would publish the following notes on the problem of Theodicy. This is, admittedly, an academic rather than pastoral treatment of the problem of suffering. I figure many people will be doing pastoral works over the next few days and weeks. I thought I would instead publish something that is both academic and readable by the average person.

The following is a teaching outline for discussing the problem of suffering in the light of a God who is said to be both all-good (desiring the full flourishing of all persons made in God's image) and all-powerful (able to bring about the full flourishing of those he desires good for). Thus experiences of suffering and tragedy cause us to question the goodness, power, and existence of God. This is a skeletal outline intended mainly as lecture notes.

1. The Problem Stated
Theodicy is the justification (Greek: dikee) of God (Greek: theos) and God's ways in the light of the suffering and evil in Creation

Typically, the problem of Theodicy is stated in this way: An all-good and all-powerful God should not allow his creation to suffer, because God should not desire anyone's suffering (because of God's goodness) and God should be able to stop suffering (because of God's power).

Yet, suffering and evil does happen. Frequently. And often in horrifying amounts.

Therefore it seems:
- God is not all-good and desires some to suffer OR
- God is not all-powerful and cannot stop our suffering OR SIMPLY
- God does not exist

Yet, if we posit the non-existence of God (or any entity such as God) which is the eternal source and foundation of Goodness, then we have lost the very standard by which we can call anything "evil". If there is no transcendent Good, then all statements of "evil" are simply statements of person preference (i.e. "I don't like jello" becomes the same kind of statement as "I don't like infanticide").

Therefore, if we are going to call things objectively evil and wrong, that means they point implicitly to a transcendent standard of Good by which we judge them. And transcendent Good is one way of defining God.

A further, more problematic answer is often given about the existence of evil: That evil has to exist for good to exist. Examples are often given to back this up, such as "light requires darkness to be light" or "you can't have up without down". The problem is that this grants evil and suffering the same status of being as goodness and life. But evil is NOT a real, independently existing thing like goodness is. Rather, evil is the lack of goodness, or the abuse of goodness. Evil cannot exist without good, but good can exist without evil.

For instance, we can imagine a healthy body without sickness, but sickness cannot exist at all unless it is the lack of health in a previously healthy body. Likewise, even the smallest light can shine in the darkness and overcome darkness, but you cannot "shine" darkness into light and overcome light with darkness. This is because darkness only exists as a privation, or lack, of light. Evil is thus a parasite that cannot exist without something good as a host to abuse.

Thus, the existence of evil is both an abuse of the Good, and a signpost pointing to the existence of a transcendent Good, which is the reality of God.

Therefore, if it seems that the experience of evil actually points us to transcendent Good, we must ask what is the nature of this Good in light of evil and suffering. Is this Good limited in goodness, and desires some suffering, death and evil in Creation? In this case, the motive of "Good" does not seem very good at all. Or is this Good limited in power, not able to bring about the good result that is desired? If this is the case, the goodness of "Good" seems severely limited by lack of power. Or, is there a way out of the problem of Theodicy that does not limit either the motive or the ability of Goodness? This is what the rest of this outline will deal with.

2. Freedom and the Permission of Evil
The central thesis of why God allows evil and suffering can be stated this way: God created us from Love, for Love. Love cannot be coerced, but must be freely chosen. Thus, God gives us real freedom so that we may chose to share in God's Love, or deny Love. God allows evil and suffering as a consequence of giving us real freedom to deny Love. There are three types of evil resultant from this:

2.1. Moral Evil
This is evil caused by the mis-use of freedom by persons. This results in the self-caused suffering of people due to their own choices, as well as the suffering inflicted on others by these choices.

Objection: If God is all-powerful, God should be able to give us "un-free freedom" (i.e. freedom that will always choose good and never choose evil), either by deceiving us into thinking we are choosing good, or by protecting us from all negative consequences.

Answer: Un-free freedom is a self-contradiction, and God is not self-contradictory, thus God does not make a contradictory creation. Thus, we cannot be both pre-programmed "robots" and also be free. Giving us true freedom means giving us the ability to choose evil.

Likewise, God cannot give us freedom and the only give us the option of choosing good (perhaps by putting us in a closed box with the only option to choose good). Being free entails the possibility of choosing at least two options with different consequences.

Furthermore, God cannot allow us to truly choose good or evil, and then simply remove the consequence of choosing evil (perhaps by putting us in a force-field that only allows good choices to count). Giving true freedom logically entails the fruits or consequences of our choices.

Finally, even if we could be programmed or coerced into making good choices and still FEEL like they were freely chosen by us, it would not be convincing or satisfactory from God's perspective. For God would know, even if we didn't, that we were not choosing Love for the sake of Love. For instance, let's say you live in the world of "Stepford Wives", and were given the choice of one of two people as a mate for life. Person 1 is a pre-programmed clone, guaranteed to be 100% compatible with all of your desires, while Person 2 is a real human with variable compatibility depending on the day and mood. If you are sane and honest, you will pick Person 2 because they are truly real and free. The same is true for God.

A further, related answer is often put forward about God's "purpose" in allowing moral evil: That God allows us to make mistakes so that we learn from them and grow into better people, or at least that others may learn and grow from our mistakes. Evidence is often cited in the form of examples of personal growth, or examples of how we learn from the mistakes of other cultures in history.

While there is doubtless some truth to this, and a great many evil choices can be "redeemed" and transformed into learning experiences that lead to salvation, this answer is also highly problematic in regard to extreme examples of evil. It is extremely doubtful that horribly evil acts can be redeemed by becoming "learning experiences". How could the holocaust of 6-8 million Jews at the hands of the Nazis be seen as a learning experience, or the abuse and murder of a small child? While such evils have some intelligibility as the result of personal freedom, they are completely absurd as "object lessons".

2.2. Natural Evil
This is evil caused by the chance and chaos inherent in the world. This results in great amounts of suffering and death caused by natural disasters.

While seemingly unrelated to the issue of moral evil, it must be noted that personal freedom is rooted in creational freedom (i.e. the chaos, randomness, and indeterminacy of creation). Without the freedom of creation, from the smallest level of quantum indeterminacy, to the largest chaotic weather systems, it would impossible for persons to be free. Our personal freedom is part of the fabric of the free indeterminacy of the entire universe.

Thus, God allows natural evil, caused by creational freedom, because it is precisely this creational freedom that allows for personal freedom. And it is personal freedom that allows us to participate in God's Love. So, if there is no creational freedom, there is no possibility of persons who can love. But, this creational freedom comes at the cost of natural evil.

Objection: If God is all-powerful, God should be able to miraculously intervene to stop the worst natural evil from happening.

Answer: First, miraculous interruptions in the natural system can have even worse ramifications than we might first imagine. While this is hard to conceive without a bit of hard science, I will try to make the analogy with recent military interventions. On first thought, it seems like a good thing for a country with a very powerful military to intervene in a weaker country to get rid of an oppressive regime or evil dictator. However, recent international experience shows that such noble interventions can lead to the unintended release of even more hatred, oppression, resentment and violence on the part of the newly "liberated" population. On analogy, it is easy to see how miraculous intervention by God has the possibility of unleashing similar unintended consequences, bringing about even worse disasters.

Thus, miraculous intervention must be chosen by God in a limited way, to ensure that worse consequences do not ensue. This is one reason why I think that obvious miracles in history are relatively rare, and unpredictable.

Second, as a very weak argument from silence, I think it should be noted that we have no way of knowing how many times God has in fact intervened to stop natural disasters, or to mitigate their effects. It may in fact be that natural evil could be much, much worse if God had acted differently. But there is no way of telling this without definitive revelation.

Third, in some versions of quantum theory (such as the "Copenhagen Interpretation" of quantum events), every time an event could happen in more than one way, it in fact does happen by splitting reality into multiple timelines. What this means is that it is possible that we do not live in a "universe", but rather a "multiverse", in which every natural possibility is realized in some timeline. This means that any time natural evil could have happened in another way, it has in fact happened another way in some part of the multiverse.

Thus we could say this: God wants to maximize the amount of good that results in reality. Therefore God allows any universe to exist in the multiverse which possesses at least one good that is not present in other universes. Therefore, this universe, with its pain and suffering, must possess at least one unique good that would not be present if it was changed in any way. That is why God has allowed this universe to exist in this way.

2.3. Systemic Evil
This is evil caused by oppressive social systems that create structural injustice, lack of access to resources, exclusion, pollution, and industrial disasters. This is not caused by individual evil choices, but the collective logic and policies of social systems. Thus it occupies a place between moral and natural evil.

Objection: Why doesn't God raise up a systemic force in the world to fight systemic evil?

Answer: From a Christian perspective, God has in fact raised up at least one systemic force to fight systemic evil: The Body of Christ, the Church.

However, the social system of the Church possesses the same freedom every other entity in the universe has to obey or resist God's Love. Thus, the Church has all too often fallen into the very evils it was created to oppose. God constantly revives and reforms the Church, through reformers and prophets, in effort to overcome this.

In addition, from a Christian perspective, other communities may also be part of the solution in a derivative way. Any social system that is inspired by God's Love and Justice and that seeks after this Love and Justice, is also "working with God" to solve systemic evil. Thus, any philosophy, religion, or organization, insofar as it works in accordance with God's Love, can work with the Church to overcome evil.

2.4. Incomplete Solutions
While all of these answers may be more or less rational, and more or less persuasive, they are all incomplete. They all keep God fairly uninvolved in the problem of evil, removed into the position of merely "permitting" evil. They explain why God may allow evil, but they do not explain how God directly ACTS to participate in, and heal, the problem of evil. This is what we move to next.

3. Evil and the Trinity in the economy of salvation
For Christian theology, the solution to Theodicy is not complete until God acts in such a way as to deal with the problem of evil and suffering directly. This requires an understanding of how God has acted in history in a Trinitarian way, as Father, Son, and Spirit. Before we go on, let us make a distinction between the "Immanent Trinity", which is God as God exists in Godself for eternity apart from creation, and the "Economic Trinity", which is how God reveals Godself within creation, through the history of salvation. Here we will consider the "Economic Trinity":

3.1. The Father suffers for us
The first thing that must be said is God the Father suffers for us in our suffering. Numerous times in Scripture, God is said to be angry, deeply saddened, and even repentant, because of human wickedness on one hand, and the suffering caused by sin on the other hand. Indeed, even the title "Father", used by Jesus to describe God, tells us that God is deeply connected with our lives on an emotional basis as a good parent would be. The Father does not sit in heaven detached and objective. He is passionately engaged in our suffering.

In fact, the Father is so passionately engaged that he sends his "only unique Son" to Earth to reveal the nature of God as Love, and to open for us the way of salvation (cf. John 3.16-18, and many, many other places). In sending his unique eternal Son to Earth, God experiences the profound loss of the one who is nearest and dearest to Godself. First God looses his Son to become Incarnate on Earth, then God looses His Son to injustice, torture, and death on a cross.

God the Father knows what it is like to loose His Beloved, not only because He has lost so many of his children to suffering and death on Earth, but because He has also lost His beloved unique eternal Son as well. Thus, God empathizes with all who have lost loved ones, and joins with them in their grief.

3.2. The Son suffers because of us
The second thing that must be said is that in Jesus, God has suffered because of us, on our behalf, and in our place. God has substituted Godself in our place to take the full consequences of our sin and evil into Godself.

This is classically referred to as the "kenosis", or self-emptying, referred to in Philippians chapter 2 when St. Paul says that in Christ God has "emptied himself, taking on the form of a slave, and being found in human likeness, he humbled himself to death, even death on a cross". The most extreme confession of this emptying comes from the lips of Jesus himself on the cross, when he cries out in the words of Psalm 22: "My God! My God! Why have you forsaken me?"

In Jesus, God emptied himself, and went through all the normal "suffering" that human life and growth entails. God went through the womb, birth, infancy, childhood, adolescence, and adulthood, just as we all do, without exempting Godself from any part of the process. God thus identifies with humanity, and is in solidarity with all of us, in every phase of life.

But not only that, God surrendered Godself to the worst kinds of consequences that result from human sin: Even though he was completely innocent of any evil, he voluntarily underwent betrayal, hatred, abuse, injustice, torture, and eventually murder. And even beyond this life, Jesus "descended into hell" to fully drink down the consequences of estrangement from God to the last drop. There is not any form of suffering, in this life or the next, which God did not undergo in Jesus. This is why St. Paul says that God "made him who had no sin to be sin for us".

I must add that this "substitution" is not merely a judicial exchange, in which God takes some arbitrary penalty in our place as a kind of legal scapegoat. No, the consequences of sin are not arbitrary punishments ordered by God, but rather natural effects arising from the fabric of the universe itself. If you disconnect yourself from life, love, and purpose, the natural consequence is death, fear, and meaninglessness. It is not arbitrarily imposed by God, but implicit in the very structure of existence.

Thus, Christ's substitution is fuller and broader than merely "judicial" concepts of punishments for breaking a law. It touches on the very nature of forgiveness and reconciliation, as well as the fact of divine responsibility for Creation.

Forgiveness is by its very nature a substitution, so that reconciliation can occur. In the act of forgiving, the person who was hurt by the evil takes the pain and consequence of the evil into themselves, not visiting it back upon the guilty party. For instance, if I steal money from you and you forgive me, you take upon yourself the cost of the theft, in order to be reconciled to me. Or, if you betray me and I forgive you, I take upon myself the pain of your betrayal without trying to get vengeance or retribution upon you.

Likewise, when God forgives us, it means that God takes into Godself the consequences of our evil. And for God to take the suffering and death into Godself on behalf of us, God needs to take on a form in which God can genuinely experience these consequences, without exempting Godself from actually suffering in solidarity with us. This form is precisely a human form, found in Jesus of Nazareth. In Jesus, God faced God's own mortality, God's own impending death, just as we all must do.

Yet this substitution- a relational, not merely judicial substitution- is also God taking responsibility for what God has made. We all instinctively hold builders responsible for what they build. To the extent that what they build is beautiful and good, they are praiseworthy. To the extent that what they build is dangerous and destructive, they are blameworthy.

We all bear our blame for the evil acts we choose, and in Jesus God takes this blame in our place. But also, in creating a "good" creation that is capable of producing free persons who can love, God has created a system that necessarily allows for immense suffering and evil. So, in Jesus God takes the blame for the possibility of suffering that God Himself created, and allowed, as the necessary precondition for Love. Jesus' substitution for us is thus about God taking the blame for what God created as much as it is about God taking our blame for the evil we have chosen to do.

And yet, in Christian theology, this is not the end of the story, for a merely dead God is not a solution to Theodicy. For Theodicy to come to any kind of resolution, suffering and death cannot have the last word. Jesus cannot stay in the grave.

Thus the historic bodily resurrection of Jesus, as reported in the Gospels and Letters of the New Testament, is a necessary ingredient for the final resolution of the problem of evil. It is an objective demonstration that God's Love is stronger than death, and more powerful than any of the consequences of evil. In death, Jesus takes every consequence of sin and evil, so that he may heal and transform every consequence of sin and evil by his resurrection.

And just as Jesus is the epicenter, or "event", or central site, at which God's substitution for our sins is enacted, he is also the epicenter from which God's Victory over evil radiates into the rest of the cosmos. He is the Fount of the healing of all evil. As time and process go forward in the cosmos, the entire universe will be drawn into the healing found in him (cf. Colossians 1.15-20; Romans 8; 1Corinthians 15). The question is, what is the energy or power or "gravity" that draws us all to this healing? This is where the Holy Spirit comes in.

3.3. The Spirit suffers with us
The Spirit of God is the very power which is said to have given Jesus the victory over the grave (cf. Romans 1.4). And it is this very Spirit which is poured out upon those who are joined to Christ in faithfulness and Love. Those who are joined with Christ are thus referred to as a new type of social entity, that continues the Incarnation of God in the world, and spreads the healing found in Jesus.

That entity is the Church, which is called "The Body of Christ", and the Spirit is the lifeblood that nourishes and holds this Body together. As a result, the Spirit is a permanent guest dwelling within individual members of the Body of Christ, and also connecting those individual members together into a greater whole.

The upshot of this for the problem of Theodicy is that, in the Spirit, God suffers with us in everything we go through. God is not just the Father suffering for us in Heaven, nor just the Son suffering because of us in History. God is also the Spirit suffering with us right now, and empowering with God's Love and life to overcome and transform that suffering.

As St. Paul says in Romans 8: [18] I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us. [19] For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God; [20] for the creation was subjected to futility, not of its own will but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope [21] that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and will obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. [22] We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now; [23] and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies… [26] Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words.

This does not preclude the Spirit's work in other communities and social systems outside of the Church. In fact, it implies just the opposite. The Spirit is at work in all the world, suffering with all who suffer, and leading all to ultimate healing, as the Spirit draws all to the epicenter of healing found in Jesus Christ. The normative route for this transformative pattern is to draw people through the continuing Body of Christ, the Church. However, there are parts of the cosmos where the Body is currently absent, or has been so weakened and sickened by sin, that the Spirit may be working through other temporary means, such as other social systems and even other religions. Wherever we find Christlike Love and justice being practiced, and people being healed, then surely Christ's Spirit is at work, even if the Name of Christ is as yet unknown.

3.4. Need to go further into the Divine Life
While it might be tempting for some Christians to declare the problem of Theodicy substantially answered at this point, I think we need to reach further, beyond history, and into the eternal nature of Godself, for the most complete answer possible. The reason for this is two-fold:

First, the question arises whether suffering and loss is something strictly "outside" of God, which is foreign to the very nature of God. Is Theodicy just a problem external to God, which God has to step outside of eternity and into history to solve? Or does Theodicy somehow draw us into the very depths of God's own life?

Second, the solution thus far has not given us an outline of how Theodicy might find an eternal resolution in the life of God. We can now see there is hope in history for the solution though Christ by the power of the Spirit. But, is there also a hope in eternity beyond history? Can we dare to hope for those who have already perished? Can we dare to have hope after our own earthly life is done?

4. Evil and the Trinity in eternity
Now that we have considered how God deals with suffering in History in the "Economic Trinity", let us now deal with how God deals with Theodicy in eternity as the "Immanent Trinity".

4.1. Suffering and Loss as Participation in Divine Life
The grounding of the "Economic Trinity" is ultimately found in the eternal nature of God as Love. God did not just "appear" as Father, Son, and Spirit in History, so that we conveniently link them together as the Trinity after the fact. Rather, the revelation of God in History as Father, Son, and Spirit point us to the eternal nature of God prior to time and space. To vastly over-simplify it, we can say this: God is eternal Love, shared forever between the Lover, the Beloved, and the Love that binds them together (i.e. Father, Son, Spirit). God is thus a Community that shares fully in one another, and gives themselves fully to each other, in an eternal "dance" of self-emptying participation in one another.

This implies that kenosis, or "self-emptying" is not just something done by the Son of God in History. Rather, this historic emptying reflects something that has always been happening from eternity. In Trinity, God has always been emptying Godself into each other in a kind of "super-kenosis". The Father has always been emptying Himself into the Son through the Spirit. And likewise, the Son has always emptied Himself back into the Father through the same Spirit. There is thus an eternal "loss" or "giving up" or "handing over" that makes up the very nature of God who is Love.

It turns out that the very nature of Love is self-gift and self-loss for the sake of the other. This is how the Bible describes both the nature of God's Love in Christ (again, see John 3.16), as well as the nature of the Love we should have for one another (see 1Corinthians 13). For God, and for us, in time and in eternity, true Love means the loss and giving up of the self. And while Love often leads to feelings of satisfaction and joy, it also necessarily entails suffering as we empty ourselves on behalf of the Other.

This has important ramifications on the very nature of suffering and loss. As long as suffering and loss is seen and felt as meaningless, disconnected from any participation in God's Life, it is in fact meaningless and absurd for those who are suffering. However, if suffering and loss is offered up to Christ, and realized as a participation in the Love of God that has existed for all eternity, it becomes the site of profound communion with God, through Christ, in the power of the Spirit.

When suffering is given over to the Triune God in this way, we begin to realize that our sufferings are a very real participation in the eternal Divine Life, and God is participating in our struggles in a very real way. This is not a quick fix, nor does it suddenly alleviate the very real consequences of moral, natural, and systemic evil. But this realization does do two important things for our struggle:

First, it gives us a historical hope that things can be made better in this world. If we are sure that God is working with us and through us, and that the Spiritual power of the resurrection is available right now, it gives us courage and strength to strive for justice and transformation in our society. It gives us the ability to give ourselves away in acts of charity and social justice, knowing "it is God who works in us to will and to act according to his good purpose" (cf. Philippians 1.13).

Second, it gives us an eternal hope that all things will be reconciled in God's good time. It is to this eternal hope that we turn now.

4.2. The Causes of Suffering finally judged and transformed
The Bible is replete with warnings and promises that at the end of time, God will judge and condemn all evil actions, and the actors that chose evil. Now, it is of course possible that we may not believe these promises or warnings. And if we do not believe them, they are a moot point. And on this view, at the end of the day, evil, death and suffering have the last laugh.

However, let us assume for a moment that these promises and warnings are actually true. This would have a profound effect on how we see the resolution of Theodicy.

For, if it were true, it would mean that after the free processes of the universe have been given their full scope of action in history, God will act to "harvest" what is good, true, and beautiful and remove all that is evil, false, and worthless after history.

Because of this, we could expect that God will recompense evil doers with the exact amount of remedial discipline they need to fully understand the scope of their evil choices, and turn away from evil. This recompense would take the form of the evil-doers experiencing the full consequences of their guilt, shame, and estrangement from God's Love, until they finally surrender their evil, and participate in the healing Love of God.

Of course, since we are still dealing with free persons, they will eternally have the choice to resist the Loving discipline of God, and cling to their evil forever. This would result in them experiencing the "hell" of self-chosen guilt, shame and estrangement for as long as they desire, into eternity. However, God's healing discipline always holds the doors open to his Love, if they will just surrender their evil and empty themselves to Christ.

If this is all true, it means that there is no injustice, no evil, no suffering that will not be dealt with by the Triune God in the most serious and fitting way. No one, from the most petty gossiper to the most horrific dictator, will be able to get away without facing up to the evil they have done, and the full consequences of that evil.

But it also means something more. It means that God's Love, revealed in Christ, will never give up on anyone, until all are brought to reconciliation in Christ. As it says in Colossians 1: [19] For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in [Christ], [20] and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross.

4.3. The final vision of Cosmic Healing
This leads to the final hope of the Christian, the resurrection of the dead and the New Creation. The final hope is that, after the full consequences of evil have run their course in this life and the next, there will be a final transformation of the cosmos as all that is good, true, and beautiful is gathered together in Christ.

I do not know how to fully characterize or describe this, other than to say that it will be analogous to the historic resurrection of Christ, in which Jesus was transfigured and glorious, while also still bearing the scars of his life and being identifiable as himself (see 1Corinthians 15 and John 21-22). In the same way, who we will be then, will be in continuity with who we are now, but in a way that is glorious and transformed into the best possible version of who we can be.

This resurrected new creation is described in Revelation 21: [1] Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea… [3] And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. [4] He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

It is almost as if the "new creation" will be the "old creation" turned inside out, to reveal the inner meaning that was always held within our experiences of suffering and joy, death and life. This "inside out" new creation, in which the life of the Triune God swallows up death forever, is the ultimate solution to Theodicy.

And this is should not be confused with a bland statement that "everything turns out fine in the end, so that justifies murder, rape, genocide, abuse, and natural disasters". This ultimate resolution and resurrection does not come that "cheap".

You can't hit fast forward to get there, as I have shown above. Rather, the experience of suffering and the judgment of evil are all necessary to fully participate in the Triune life of God. Each evil that is done, and every life destroyed and maimed by it, will be dealt with uniquely by God through Christ. Every consequence will be met in a way that is appropriate to the situation. And all will ultimately become a means for participation in the life of God through our experience of loss and suffering.

Since we are very quickly nearing the end of my ability to describe this mystical reconciliation in words, I will close with a final analogy. I think this "inside out" new creation is a lot like a complex needlepoint picture. When viewed from the bottom side, the picture is unintelligible. There is nothing but a tangle of loose threads, with very little discernible pattern, and no consistency. Yet, when one turns it over to the top side, you can see how the jumble of threads has been woven together into a beautiful picture.

In a similar way, I do not expect the jumbled threads of suffering and loss to make complete sense right now. I can see some edges and contours, but what the final resolution will be I can scarcely grasp. Yet I hope that as our suffering and loss is joined to Christ, we will find ourselves knit into the life of the Trinity, and one day the picture will make sense.

Bibliography
For more extensive treatments of the problem of theodicy, I would put forward the sources in order of complexity:

A great place to start would be part 3 of the "Handbook of Christian Apologetics" by Catholic philosopher Peter Kreeft.

A very readable, emergent protestant view can be found in "Love Wins" by Rob Bell.

Writer and apologist CS Lewis deals with this question in several places, notably his books "The Problem of Pain" and "The Great Divorce". He also refers to it several times within his classic "Mere Christianity".

Finally, much of the analysis found here (especially part 4) has found it's origins in conversations with Dr. Jacob Friesenhahn. Friesenhahn has explored these issues in some depth and subtlety in his book "Trinity and Theodicy".

On Miracles, Hubris, and Arthur C. Clarke's Third Law

Today in chapel I preached on resurrection. And in speaking of the miracle of the resurrection, I invoked Arthur C. Clarke's Third Law of Technology to talk about the events which we describe as miracles. Clarke's Law states:

"Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic (or miracle)."

I went on to talk about how the miracle of the resurrection perfects nature, not by working against nature, but by working through the "laws" of physics. I used the analogy of all the technology we use today, that works WITH the "laws" of nature, which would seem like magic or miracle to earlier humans. I continued by saying:

"If there is a Ultimate Source of Intelligence, Love and Life, who is in harmony with the laws of the universe and wants to show this Love to us, why would it be impossible that this Source might enter a human life and rise from the dead?"

A friend of mine who teaches math got into a conversation with me later about this part of the sermon. He said, very politely, that this argument seemed to smack of hubris: A sort of over-estimate of human ability in comparing our technology to God. Furthermore, he said, that it seemed to fall right into the trap of the empiricist David Hume in talking about miracles in an empirical way. So I wrote to him:

I am very sensitive to the aesthetics of an argument, when the aesthetic observation is done by someone like yourself who is good at identifying arguments. And an aesthetic feeling of hubris intrigues me.

I don't think you need to feel like you have to be "armed" to discuss this with me. I'm much friendlier than that! And in all honesty, your observation does not threaten me in the least. I view it more as a striving for the common good rather than a competition.

I think the main aesthetic problem with that part of the sermon was that I hit on it, and went on to a more important point. And in retrospect, perhaps I shouldn't have even broached the argument. It was probably both too "big" and too "controversial" to hit-and-run. And, like you said, probably better suited to a classroom.

As far as the substance of the argument, to tag off of your last comment, I think I am actually trying to avoid Hume rather than fall into Hume's trap. Hume, at least in my reading of him several years ago, seems to hold two important points about reality: (a) The most real events- or only real events- in the universe are empirical events subject to predictable laws of nature (i.e. Hume's Principle of Uniformity in Nature); (b) Miracles are defined as violations of the laws of nature, and thus literally impossible events (cf. Hume's "On Miracles" - "But it is a miracle, that a dead man should come to life; because that has never been observed in any age or country").

I may be wrong on Hume, but that is the read I remember of him.

However, if one changes the definition of miracle, then Hume's criticism is undermined.

For instance, I would want to re-frame the whole idea of miracle- or to use Biblical terms "signs, wonders, and powerful deeds" (cf. John 4.48; Acts 2.19, 22, 43; 4.30; 5.12; 6.8; 7.36; 14.3; 15.12; Rom 15.19; 2 Cor 12.12; 2 Th 2.9; Heb 2.4).

A sign (Greek seemion) is some event that points beyond itself to a Signifier or Purpose or Meaning that transcends the deed itself.

A wonder (Greek teras) is some event that triggers a sense of awe or "the Numinous", a sense that something from another dimension of Reality has entered our reality.

A powerful deed (Greek dunamis - often translated as "miracle") simply means a deed that shows great power or ability.

These three terms really get at the heart of what we mean by "miracle" in a Christian sense. If I were to combine these three into a single definition, while keeping Hume's critique in mind, I might say this:

A Miracle is an event in which an Transcendent Intelligence works within the "laws" and dimensions of Reality to produce an event which would be infinitely improbable without conscious, intelligent design and ability (cf. dunamis); This event signifies, or points to, this source of Transcendent Intelligence in such a way as to communicate its will to us (cf. seemion), thereby causing an aesthetic response of awe and wonder at being in the presence of such a Transcendent Reality (cf. teras).

I think the finite awe we experience in the presence of new technology is thus an analogue of the infinite awe we experience when we encounter a "miracle" from the Infinite Source of Reality. It's kind of a sliding scale of awe that increases exponentially as we encounter greater and greater intelligence and power.

So, we feel a little bit of awe the first time we see a drone strike on a suspected terrorist, or encounter a gizmo like an iPhone or a Computer than can play chess.

We feel moderate awe when we realize that satellites can see into our buildings, or when we finally create nanobots that can kill cancer cells, and we cure someone of cancer by just injecting them with nanobots.

We feel a great amount of awe when a nuclear bomb obliterates a city, or when we achieve faster than light speed transport (or teleportation).

And we feel infinite awe when the Transcendent reaches into our lives in unexpected ways to do highly improbable things, such as raise someone from the dead in such a way that he is both physical, and yet is able to make a more full use of the dimensions of reality than we are currently able to do (cf. Jesus' appearance in locked rooms in a couple of the resurrection narratives).

Yet, to those 2000 years ago- or even 200 years ago- all of these things would seem like magic or miracle. All of these things would seem like they violate the laws of physics. None of these things would have been reduplicable in whole or even in part with earlier levels of technology (cf. Clarke's third law).

And speaking from sheer probability, none of the things I have listed above could happen if nature was simply left to its own entropy. It takes intelligent beings creatively working within the possibilities provided by the laws of physics to create events and technologies that can't exist any other way. And our finite abilities provide analogy to what an infinite, transcendent Intelligence could be able to do.

I understand that this can be interpreted as hubris- Icarus flying too close to the sun and so forth. But I think this analogy between human "technology" and divine "miracle" is invited by the idea that humans are made "in the image of God" and "after the likeness" of God (the Hebrew of Genesis 1:26-30 could even be read "as an analogy to God"). We mirror God in our creativity. In our ability to grasp the ideal world of mathematics, for instance, and apply that ideal world to the empirical world in discovering the physical "laws" of the universe (note: I KNOW that these are not actual laws, but more like observed constants and ratios that tend to be universal in observation, but if I had to say that every time, it would take forever... so I stick with "laws" in quotes).

So I'm not sure it is hubris to see an analogy between finite human technology and infinite divine ability. I think it is invited.

Where I would locate hubris is in human MOTIVATION for how we use technology. If you note what I said above on the "sliding scale" of awe, I intentionally listed a life-taking, and a life-giving, use of human technology at every point. While the divine use of "miracle" seems to be always for the virtuous purpose of giving life, sharing compassion, and in some cases preventing evil, this is not the case with human technology.

Human technology at this point in our development is often plagued by (a) moral malevolence and (b) systemic short-sightedness. First of all, we tend to use technology to selfishly increase our own pleasure, power or pride, often at the expense of harming or oppressing others. Thus, to compare our moral use of technology with divine ability, as if we are always acting from the Good for the Good, is the height of hubris.

Second of all, we are only beginning to grasp the systemic effects of our technology. We are only at the beginnings of understanding how the unintended pollution and collateral damage of our technology- even when that technology is used for virtuous intentions- can impact whole systems. It is not God that tends to do "miracles" against the best interests of the systems of nature. It is us. And unless we progress in our ability to use technology "with the grain of nature" instead of "against the grain", it could put our race and our ecosystems in jeopardy. Correction: IS putting us in danger.

Thus, to compare our current level of finite systemic understanding to infinite divine understanding is also hubris.

So, I think ultimately technological progress will have to be wedded to moral progress- empiricism wedded to spirituality- for humans to attain our true potential. And I think that the shorthand term for moral progress would be to say that we increase in Christlikeness- the ability to selflessly love other sentient beings and give ourselves so that we all attain to our full inherent God-given potential for life, wisdom, and beauty.

I actually have another essay about evolution and Christian spirituality in which I talk a bit about what "moral progress" might look like given an "evolutionary Christian theology". But, back to the point: I think this understanding of "miracle" using the analogy of finite human technology actually gets us out of the trap of Hume and later empiricists.

We know Reality is made of more than the standard "four" dimensions we typically think of as "empirical" or rather "Newtonian" (length, height, width, space/time). I've heard Quantum thought talk of 11 to 27 dimensions (or "pocket dimensions"). I can easily see that whatever dimensionality or realm that pure maths (and logics) fit into is something that transcends the empirical, yet inhabits the empirical.

You have talked about how we are not at all sure that the physical "laws" we have in this part of the universe hold true across the entire fabric of space-time. So already, given the implications of Relativistic and Quantum thought, we understand that what Hume would count as "going against" the "laws" of nature is on wobbly ground.

And with all the wobble room that space-time dimensionality and quantum fuzziness opens up, it simply does not make sense to me to think that a divine "miracle" (even a resurrection!) is ultimately a violation of nature. It seems to me that it is more of a intelligent fulfillment of nature. Thus a miracle is not something that works against nature or destroys nature (contra Hume). Rather a miracle is an act of grace that works through and with nature, intelligently, to bring about the perfection of nature (vis a vis Augustine and Aquinas "Grace perfects Nature").

And as humans grow in both technical ability and moral virtue, I think that we will learn to model Christ in giving sight to the blind, release to the prisoners, justice to the oppressed, food to the hungry, healing to the sick, and even life to the dead (cf. Luke 4.18-19; John 14.12). And increasingly, our technical ability to do these things would appear as unfathomable magic to those who lived in ages past (cf. Clarke's 3rd law).

Either that, or we will increase in technical ability and devolve morally, which will surely destroy us all. Because power to heal is also power to kill, depending on how we use it. I guess it is our corporate choice.

On Soul as Emergent and Eternal

Once I had a conversation with a friend of mine who teaches science whether or not the soul was an emergent property that arises from our biology, or an eternal "substance" implanted in us by God. I tried to explicate that the soul was both-and, a sort of di-polar entity, in which both the Transcendent and the Empirical were necessary and sufficient causes.  The conversation about souls got me thinking about what exactly I meant. and didn't mean, by calling the "soul" an "emergent property" of complex systems. So, if you will indulge me, I would like to explain.

In trying to tease out what I meant, I think I would argue something like this...

Following Kant and Plato, I would argue for a kind of 2-dimension Reality which is interdependent. Kant calls it the "Phenomenal" and the "Noumenal". Yet, he posits a kind of absolute gulf between the two dimensions of reality, in which there is no genuine possibility of crossover or participation. Plato and Neo-platonists argue for a genuine participation between the two dimensions, but they seem to argue for two separate "substances": A formal, ideological, non-material kind of "stuff" versus an empirical, material "stuff".

I would want to avoid the dual-substance theory posited by many Platonists, while also avoiding the chasm in reality posited by Kant, while also recognizing that there is a genuine dialectic between temporal emergence, and the eternal principles behind it, that gives rise to this unfolding evolution.

I would say that all reality is made of the same "stuff" or "substance". So I would reject the idea that there is "good" spiritual stuff and "bad" material stuff. It's all the same type of stuff (and it's all "good"). But there is at least two dimensions to the "stuff" of reality: The Physical dimension and the Metaphysical dimension. The Physical is the "external" dimension that is objective, which is in constant change, flux, and development. The Metaphysical is the "inner" dimension of reality that is subjective, which supplies the eternal forms and structures upon which the physical flux and development happens. To use a bad computer metaphor: The Metaphysical is like the hardware that the changing programs of Physical reality runs on.

So there's a constant dialectic or participation between the eternal Metaphysical and the temporal Physical that leads to the evolution of the Universe and all its creatures. In fact, if Copenhagen Quantum theory is right, its not a "uni"-verse. It's a nearly infinitely diverse creative Multiverse.

Given the near-infinite diversity of such a Multiverse, it is inevitable that creatures of sufficient complexity would arise that would become aware of the metaphysical depth of the physical universe.

In fact, this is what I was getting at by calling the soul/self an "emergent property". We know that when systems get sufficiently complex and interconnected, they begin to manifest certain epiphenomena, or emergent properties, that make the system "more than the sum of its parts". The cognitive apparatus of our biological machine seems to be so complex and interconnected that it gives rise to a self- an emergent self- that is able to transcend and become conscious of both the body it inhabits, as well as the cosmos that it inhabits. This emergent-transcendent self manifests its transcendence by its ability to grasp wholly abstract ideas (say logic or math), to have genuine empathy for other life-forms, and to grasp beauty, grammatical language, etc.

I would further argue that once the "emergent self" is able to consciously participate in Metaphysical reality, that something eternal happens to the self. The dialectic between the changing self and timeless eternity creates a new type of being- a person. Persons have this odd dialectic of being self-transcendent yet being embodied; of being in time, but having a sense of eternity.

So my view is trying to avoid two problem views:

On one hand, it's not that the soul is a "substance" that God pours into meat-puppets. Rather, souls (or selves, or persons) are epiphenomena that arise out of being embodied creatures. Our biology has real effects on what type of persons we are. There are no ideal, disembodied, perfect souls that get dirty by being encased in bodies. This also means that there is no eternal "well of souls" that God draws out of to implant within us, nor are there ideal "masculine" and "feminine" souls.

The ramifications of this on current religious debates about gender and sexuality are great, since it implies that if there is a Mind behind Reality, who intends persons to be genuine expressions of the physical systems that gave rise to them, rather than "ideal souls" battling against a corrupt body. It means that artificial ideal typologies (such as male, female, straight, gay) must be deconstructed so that we can give each unique person the infinite value and worth that they deserve as persons made in God's image. Furthermore, this leaves open the real possibility that other physical beings may one day evolve sufficient complexity to be "souls" too (such as alien organisms on other planets, or very complex computers on this planet).

On the other hand, it's not that the soul is only physical, and destined to perish with the body. The interaction with the transcendent metaphysical dimension has changed this emergent property into something more, something different than being just physical. The memory of the self has been eternally imprinted on the nature of reality. Once a person becomes aware of themselves as a person- a distinct transcendent self- I don't believe that can be undone. That consciousness never ceases to exist, but is in a dialectic relationship with the eternal. Non-sentient systems (rocks, trees, lower life forms) never became aware of themselves or "remembered" themselves. Thus, the Metaphysical does not "remember" them. But, once a system becomes aware of itself, and "remembers" itself, it doesn't forget itself (cf. "every sentient being dreams, Hal" from 2010). And, as a result, the Metaphysical does not forget that self either. That person has become "inscribed" into the Metaphysical (cf. Isaiah 49.16  where God says "I have engraved you on the palms of my hands").

This does not preclude the conscious self from further developing and evolving. In fact, it seems to guarantee an eternity of progress as the self evolves. For instance, just look at how your own self has evolved, while remaining "you", over the course of life so far. Many, many things have changed, but there is also an enduring "me" that identifies as the "me" that has evolved from birth to childhood to adolescence to adulthood to now. And I can imagine that this evolution does not stop at death, but enters a new phase.

Drawing from the Christian tradition, especially that of the Eastern Fathers who held a much more organic idea of theology than the legalistic West, we could say that eternity is a kind of endless progress into the life of God. This is what the Cappadocian Fathers (who supplied much of the terminology used in the Nicene Creed) called "epektasis".

The emphasis on the eternal nature of souls (from the metaphysical side) along with the emergent nature of souls (from the physical side) allows for an always open possibility of growth: Of entering more deeply into God's life. Entering into God's life is precisely what is meant by "salvation". This is another way of saying that the door of salvation is always open from the Divine (or Metaphysical) side. God never closes the door, but invites all persons at all times.

This ultimate salvation does not preclude damnation (which is the painful refusal of the self to evolve or grow into God's life). But if a person becomes "stuck" in the hellish position of a selfish refusal to grow, there is always the possibility of healing and growth once the person decides to stop refusing and start growing. Thus, the self-chosen, painful exclusion that is often called "hell" in many religious traditions becomes an opportunity for healing and growth, rather than a final destination. This corresponds to the function of pain in our current physical life: Pain is a signal that something is wrong and needs to be healed. As it is in physical reality, so also in metaphysical reality.

The final goal of the "evolution of the soul" is only hinted at in the Christian tradition. It is called "the resurrection", and "the new creation", and "the body of Christ". It is talked of in individual terms, as the continuation of our own personal consciousness, even as it is spoken of in cosmic terms, as a constant awareness of God, creation, and each other. I think it points to the ultimate continuation of our selves as part of an even greater whole. Just as the physical machine of our bodies gives rise to the emergent property of an individual person, so also, it seems, the emergent property of a multiverse of persons will give rise to a "cosmic person".

After the full growth and evolution of our own personal consciousnesses, which begins in this life and continues on the other side of this life, it seems that God will resurrect us together as one Body in a new Creation. Nothing that is good, true, or beautiful from this reality will be lost, but it will be transposed into a higher key in the End (just as a good guitar tune is transposed into music for a full symphony).

And that is as far as the Christian tradition is able to take us.

I would actually hypothesize that this is not the End, but that there is further trans-cosmic growth and evolution that follows from this. But right now, I cannot even begin to imagine what that might look like. And neither can the Christian tradition, nor any other tradition I know of.

On Christ's Descent to Hell

A friend asked me over Christmas break in 2012 about the meaning of "Christ's descent to hell" alluded to in 1Peter 3.18-20. It is only appropriate that I should post this today, on Holy Saturday, which yearly commemorates Jesus' "harrowing of hell". The text in question is one of the many Scriptures that is used to assert that Jesus "descended to the dead" or "descended to hell" during the time of his death, to release those in bondage in the realm of the dead.

The texts most commonly used to support this assertion include:

1Peter 3.18–20
[18] For Christ also suffered for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, in order to bring you to God. He was put to death in the flesh, but made alive in the spirit, [19] in which also he went and made a proclamation to the spirits in prison, [20] who in former times did not obey, when God waited patiently in the days of Noah, during the building of the ark, in which a few, that is, eight persons, were saved through water.

1Peter 4.5–6
[5] But they [i.e. sinners] will have to give an accounting to him who stands ready to judge the living and the dead. [6] For this is the reason the gospel was proclaimed even to the dead, so that, though they had been judged in the flesh as everyone is judged, they might live in the spirit as God does.

Ephesians 4.8–10
[8] Therefore it is said, “When he ascended on high he made captivity itself a captive; he gave gifts to his people.” [9] (When it says, “He ascended,” what does it mean but that he had also descended into the lower parts of the earth? [10] He who descended is the same one who ascended far above all the heavens, so that he might fill all things.)

And a few others are seen as typological references.

The Protestant Scholar Craig S. Keener has to say this in "The IVP Bible Background Commentary: New Testament"

"The idea here is that Jesus was resurrected by the Spirit of God, by whom also he went (presumably after the resurrection) to proclaim triumph over the fallen spirits. Of the many views on this text, the three main ones are (1) that between his death and resurrection, Jesus preached to the dead in Hades, the realm of the dead (the view of many church fathers); (2) that Christ preached through Noah to people in Noah’s day (the view of many Reformers); (3) that before or (more likely) after his resurrection, Jesus proclaimed triumph over the fallen angels (the view of most scholars today).

In early Christian literature, “spirits” nearly always refers to angelic spirits rather than human spirits, except when explicit statements are made to the contrary. The grammar here most naturally reads as if, in the Spirit who raised him, he preached to them after his resurrection; further, v. 22 mentions these fallen angels explicitly. The view that these were instead spirits of the dead often rests on 4:6, but the point of 4:6, which caps the section, is that martyrs put to death in the flesh will be raised by the Spirit as Christ was in 3:18.

Except for most later rabbis, nearly all ancient Jews read Genesis 6:1-3 as a reference to the fall of angels in Noah’s day (1 Pet 3:20); after the flood, they were said to be imprisoned (so also 2 Pet 2:4; Jude 6), either below the earth or in the atmosphere (cf. 1 Pet 3:22). Then, according to a commonly known Jewish tradition, Enoch was sent to proclaim God’s judgment to them; here Christ is the proclaimer of triumph over them."

HOWEVER, I would politely disagree with Keener, and insist that his view of the evidence is tainted by his Protestant sensibilities. Instead, I would go with the earliest hypothesis of the evidence, that of #1 above:

The ancient Church from the earliest times has put forward the view that after Christ died, he took the full extent of the consequences of sin, and descended to the furthest level of alienation from God the Father (the realm which we typically refer to as "hell", but which is more accurately described by the Greek term hades or the Aramaic term gehenna).

This seems to be fulfill (a) the logic of the Incarnation; (b) the mission of Christ's life; and (c) the fuller context of the Scriptures above.

A. The logic of the Incarnation is that, in Jesus, God goes through all the consequences of being fully human, including the fullest consequences of our sin (even though he is sinless) so that he might ransom and redeem us from sin. If alienation from God (i.e. hell) is the fullest consequence of sin, it would seem that in order to fully heal us, he would have to endure that consequence by actually descending to hell.

B. The mission of Christ's life was to reach out to the least, the last, and the lost. We witness this in his earthly ministry in the people he hung out with and healed. If he is Lord of the living and the dead, why would he arbitrarily stop his mission among those who are alive only for 70-80 years max? Why would he not also extend his mission among the dead? The Scriptures above indicate that he did descend into the heart of death. Why would he go there and do NOTHING? If he was to go there, and if he was victorious over hell, then why not offer victory to those in hell if they would repent?

C. The fuller context of the Scriptures above indicate this as well. In 1Peter 3, if Jesus "suffered for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous", and if he went to proclaim to the "spirits in prison", why on earth just stop at a few of those spirits? Why not proclaim to everyone? In 1Peter 4, the obvious context is proclaiming the Gospel to sinners who mock the Gospel itself. This seems to be a proclamation to EVERYONE who is dead and who mocks the Gospel. And in Ephesians 4, the effects of Christ's "descent" is to eventually win a victory in which "captivity itself a captive". How can captivity be made captive if there are still captives left un-freed by Jesus (or at least not offered the good news of freedom in Jesus?).

One might pile on obviously "universal" readings of the effects of Christ's death and resurrection, such as:

John 12.32 And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.

Romans 5.18   Therefore just as one man’s trespass led to condemnation for all, so one man’s act of righteousness leads to justification and life for all.  19 For just as by the one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one man’s obedience the many will be made righteous.

1Corinthians 15.21 For since death came through a human being, the resurrection of the dead has also come through a human being;  22 for as all die in Adam, so all will be made alive in Christ.

Colossians 1.19 For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell,  20 and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross.

Romans 8.31    What then are we to say about these things? If God is for us, who is against us?  32 He who did not withhold his own Son, but gave him up for all of us, will he not with him also give us everything else? ... 35 Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? ... 37 No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.  38 For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers,  39 nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

So, if one looks at the "cosmic" implications of the Incarnation, Crucifixion, and Resurrection of Christ, it leads us to a very wide hope that the Love of Christ can and will reach everyone, from the heights of heaven to the depths of hell, both in this life and beyond.

The only reason I can think of to radically cut off this hope, and narrow down the scope of what Jesus did in descending to the dead, is if someone is trying to build a theology that is not Christ-based, but Institution-based. What I mean is this: Jesus seems pretty clear that he is not going to give up until he rescues everyone who will respond to him in faith. There is ample evidence that this mission extends from this world into the next.

However, if someone is institution-based, they are interested in constructing a theology that says "our institution alone is right, join us or perish!" Then it behooves them to read the Scriptural data in such a way that it boosts their claim, and forces people to join them to be "saved". They may not even know they are doing it. They may have just been taught "this is the only way to read the Bible". And so they do that. Even scholars do that.

I would rather say that Scripture teaches (a) that salvation is found in Christ alone; (b) Christ never gives up, in this life and the next, getting this good news out; (c) Christ works in surprising ways, even descending into the heart of hell itself, to carry out his mission; (d) our mission as Christ's followers is to make this good news clear to all around us in word and deed.

That is more than you asked... But that's what I think!

On "The Theological Turn in Youth Ministry"

The Theological Turn in Youth Ministry is actually a pretty huge topic, and I don't have all night to write on it! I think that this book is a great step in the right direction. Kids who are actually still coming to Church in our culture are doing so because they want to find something different than the prevailing culture of consumerism. That something different may be genuine agape-based relationships with caring peers and adult mentors. But often along with that (or because of that) there comes a hunger for WHY Christian life is (or should be) so different from the prevailing culture. This WHY question is precisely theology: Helping people think in a God-centered way that is well-ordered and rational (i.e. theo-logical).

This is what we used to call Christian formation or even discipleship (at least the cognitive, worldview portion of it). But it's tricky. And there are at least 4 reasons why theological formation with youth is tricky:

1. There is a general lack of Biblical literacy among Americans in general and youth in particular. Since theologizing, for Christians, takes place upon the basis of the Grand Narrative found in the narratives of Scripture, it is essential to teach these stories. But...

2. The Churches that are often strongest on teaching the Bible are also often the most legalistic, fundamentalist, and least inclusive and justice oriented. They tell the story, but they tell it with a slant toward individualism and exclusivism. So we must develop a way of teaching the Bible just as strongly, except emphasizing the inclusion and social justice found in Scripture. Which means...

3. We need to develop a lexicon of basic concepts and strategies to get these stories across in a way that avoids the fundamentalist extreme, while staying faithful to Scripture and the best of the Christian tradition. The genius of fundamentalism is that is hones in on a few basic, easily remembered concepts and just hammers them into people. We need to find a way to present the message and theology of Scripture in a way that is equally winsome and easily remembered. However...

4. The massive failure of fundamentalism, other than it's appalling lack of Christlike Love for "The Other", is that its concepts have such narrow boundaries that they crack when challenged by science and rational learning. Thus, kids raised in fundamentalist environments often "loose faith" in college when their legalistic, foundationalist faith gets destroyed. Thus, when we theologically form people, we must do so in a way that the concepts we teach them can grow with them as they grow intellectually.

To give a negative and positive example: Negatively, when kids are taught some form of creationism (often literal, 6-day versions) as an attempt to help them believe in God as "Creator", they often go to college and find this shattered by the facts of evolutionary science. Then they loose faith in God's creative role altogether. Better to teach them a version of creation that welcomes evolution as one mode of God's creativity unfolding across history. This type of concept can grow with them, where as "Six Day Creationism" cannot.

Or, another example: Fundamentalists are rightly taught the centrality of Jesus and his saving work, but they learn it in an exclusivistic way that most postmoderns find unbelievable. When confronted with their virtuous Hindu, Muslim, and Agnostic friends at school, they find it hard to believe that Jesus would send them to hell for eternity, while the (often asshole) Evangelicals get to live forever. Thus, they jettison Christ altogether.

Better to teach them that yes, Jesus is the Incarnation of God, and yes, Jesus is the Way of Salvation, BUT that Jesus fulfills instead of rejects all that is good, true, and beautiful in other religions and cultures. When we meet God face to face, we will see the face of Jesus, and he will fulfill and confirm all that is right in our lives, while also judging and healing all that is wrong in our lives. So that the virtuous Christian, Jew, Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, or Agnostic will find that all they have done good has been done in Christ, especially when they reached out to "the least of these" not knowing it was Christ himself that they were ministering to (cf. Mat. 25.31-46).

That is probably more than you wanted to know. But that is a brief outline of the challenge as I see it.

On Ritual and Relationship

Recently, I taught in chapel on the Story of Mary and Martha, in which Jesus ends by helping Martha to re-focus her perspective to see the necessity of BOTH action AND contemplation in her journey with Jesus:

Luke 10.38–42 [38] Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. [39] She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying. [40] But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.” [41] But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; [42] there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”

Based on this teaching, one of my students wrote and asked me:

"Martha gets upset that Mary will not participate in the activities of preparing food/ cleaning up yet Jesus tells Martha that she is missing the point. My question is: couldn't the same be said about us in chapel? We go through the actions of repeating, rehearsing, sitting, and standing, but if you don't do those things, you're looked upon as Mary in the story."

And so I answered:

Great question and one that I have pondered for years. I wish I could give you a simple answer, but your question hits on a wide-ranging topic of how we worship as Christians. So please allow me to give a bit of background to the answer:

I think what you have hit upon is the constant tension of what we do FOR Jesus versus being present WITH Jesus. When used rightly, most rituals and activities can be used as a tool to become more aware of Jesus and present with Jesus. The catch is that most people- myself included- are not very good at being mindful of Jesus while doing activities.

Regarding specifically religious rituals, I have been a Christian in several different Christian traditions before I came to the Episcopal tradition. I have spent a great deal of time in Evangelical/ Bible Church/ Non-Denominational Churches, as well as Pentecostal and Charismatic Churches. I've also been a part of services in a wide variety of other Christian traditions: Orthodox, Catholic, etc.

So I will say that every Christian tradition has its own pattern of worship with expected rituals and patterns for prayers. For instance, think of the "sinner's prayer" used when someone gets saved in an Evangelical Church. It has a standard pattern: Confession of sin, need for Jesus, acceptance of Jesus as Lord and Savior, giving praise to Jesus.

Or the typical pattern in a non-denominational worship service or youth worship service: Typically you have a welcome, then gathering prayer, then upbeat worship songs, then a Bible reading, a message, a call to conversion, often ending in slower, more emotional worship songs while people come forward to receive Christ, and then finally a dismissal by the pastor.

Or if you go to a healing service in a charismatic or Pentecostal Church, there is a pattern for when to raise your hands in praise, how you offer healing prayers, or when (and how) it is proper to speak in tongues, and even when it is proper to faint (or be "slain in the spirit").

So, that's all to say that whether you are at Community Bible Church, First Pentecostal, Oak Hills, Our Lady of Guadalupe Catholic Church, chapel at TMI or chapel at SACS, you are going to find regular repeated pattern of certain kinds of rituals and certain kinds of prayers. In fact you find references to patterns of ritual in the Bible in places like Leviticus, Psalms, and even the patterns of worship we find with Jesus and the early disciples (cf. 1Co 10-11).

I think that any of these rituals can be good, if they are done with Jesus while being mindful of Jesus. And I think any of these rituals can be bad or useless if they are done for their own sake, or to impress others, or just out of habit. So the trick is to use rituals mindfully to connect with Jesus.

So, if raising my hands is a meaningful act of worship to me that draws me near to Christ, I should do that. If crossing yourself and kneeling is a meaningful way of drawing near to Christ for you, you should do that. However, I should not compel you to raise your hands if that is not helpful for you. And likewise, you should not compel me to cross myself.

But, it is even more complex than that. Because of we are going to practice the type of hospitality that Christ calls us to, by which we become "all things to all people" (in St. Paul's words) then we should be willing to try and use spiritual practices that are meaningful to thousands or millions of other brothers and sisters in Christ. So, while I should not be compelled to cross myself (or raise my hands, or bow) as an act of worship, I should probably be willing to practice it voluntarily if I am around many other Christians who do find it meaningful. If I do, I might also come to find it has meaning for me as well.

Whew. I know this is a long and complex set of arguments, but you find somewhat similar discussions of how to worship, and what to eat, or do, or not do, to please Christ in places like Romans ch. 14-15 and 1Co ch. 10-14.

Anyway, as for which "pattern" of ritual you use, that will depend on the context you are in. If you are in a Catholic context and you use Pentecostal practices (such as speaking in tongues) you are going to make people uncomfortable and they will not understand you. Likewise, if you are at the non-denominational Bible Church and use Catholic rituals (such as bowing and crossing yourself) people probably wouldn't receive you too well.

And anytime you have a group of several hundred people who gather on a regular basis (such as chapel) then most of the time you need to have a predictable pattern that everyone can use to worship. Granted, some people will mentally check out or be distracted or just ignore what is going on. That happens at Catholic masses and Pentecostal tent revivals and Episcopal Schools. But for those who choose to use the ritual framework to connect with Jesus, it allows for that capacity on a daily basis.

One thing that I miss sometimes are the things you can do in a smaller setting (such as summer camp or a youth retreat) that you can't do with several hundred people on a daily basis. For instance, times of silence, singing around a camp fire, and really intimate personal times of prayer. These rituals and practices work great with a small group of people. But when transposed into a huge group, what you wind up with is a lot of people who get really freaked out and uncomfortable, and a very few insiders who really like it. You can actually see this happen sometimes when guitar based songs are played in chapel. The students who have been to happening or sing these songs in their youth group like it. And many others- students and faculty- either don't get it or are uncomfortable with it. In fact, for every person I have ask me to do something in chapel (such as sing camp songs), I usually have at least one other person (if not more) who will complain that we did it. No kidding!

So, most of the time I use prayers and rituals that have been meaningful to most Christians through most of Christian history. That means a lot of prayers and rituals that have Catholic and Anglican roots. It's not everyone's cup of tea. But then again no style of worship is everyone's cup of tea. But it is a pattern that has been shown to shape and develop the spiritual lives of Christians through most of Christian history. And Jesus will use it, if you let him, to remind you of his presence and help you hear his Word.

And that leads me to the bottom line answer: It's all in how you use it.

Every relationship has rituals. My relationship with my wife has many rituals that involve speaking, listening, special names we use, sitting, standing, working and resting. Likewise, my relationship with Jesus has many rituals that involve speaking, listening, special names, sitting, standing, working and resting. I can use these rituals to connect with Jesus (or my wife). Or I can use the same rituals to ignore either of them and check out mentally. It's all in how I use them.

Martha's problem was that she was using her work instead of being present with Christ, and perhaps at the wrong time when Jesus may have been calling her to do something else. My hope is that we learn to use our work and rest, ritual and spontaneity, in the right way at the right time to draw us all closer to Christ.

I know that's a complex answer. But I think life with Jesus is complex, multifaceted and beautiful. It is easy to say "Love Jesus!"  But it takes a lifetime- and beyond- to explore how to love Jesus in the manifold contexts we find ourselves in.