Imagination Archives

Artificial Intelligence: The Disguised Friend of Christian Anthropology

AI is making one significant leap after the other. Computer programs can nowadays convincingly converse with us, generate plausible prose, diagnose disease better than human experts, and totally trash us in strategy games like Go and chess, once considered the epitome of human intelligence. Could they one day reach human-level intelligence? It would be extremely unwise to discount such a possibility without very good reasons. Time, after all, is on AI’s side, and the kind of things that machines are capable of today used to be seen as quasi-impossible just a generation ago.

How could we possibly speak of human distinctiveness when robots become indistinguishable from us?

The scenario of human-level AI, also known as artificial general intelligence (AGI), would be a game-changer for every aspect of human life and society, but it would raise particularly difficult questions for theological anthropology. Since the dawn of the Judeo-Christian tradition, humans have perceived themselves as a creature unlike any other. The very first chapter of the Bible tells us that we are special, because only we of all creatures are created in the image of God (imago Dei). However, the Copernican revolution showed us that we are not the center of the universe (not literally, at least), and the Darwinian revolution revealed that we are not ontologically different from non-human animals. AGI is set to deliver the final blow, by conquering the last bastion of our distinctiveness: our intelligence.

By definition, AGI would be capable of doing anything that a standard human can do, at a similar or superior level. How could we possibly speak of human distinctiveness when robots become indistinguishable from us? Christian anthropology would surely be doomed, right? Well, not really, actually quite the contrary. Instead of rendering us irrelevant and ordinary, AI could in fact represent an unexpected opportunity to better understand ourselves and what makes us in God’s image.

Science’s Contribution to the Imago Dei

To explain why, it is useful to step back a little and acknowledge how much the imago Dei theology has benefitted historically from an honest engagement with the science of its time. Based solely on the biblical text, it is impossible to decide what the image of God is supposed to mean exactly. The creation story in Genesis 1 tells us that only humans are created in the image and likeness of God, but little else about what the image means. The New Testament does not add much, except for affirming that Jesus Christ is the perfect image. Ever since Patristic times, Christian anthropology has constantly wrestled with how to define the imago Dei, without much success or consensus.

The obvious way to tackle the question of our distinctiveness is to examine what differentiates us from the animals, the only others with which we can meaningfully compare ourselves. For the most part of Christian history, this difference has been located in our intellectual capacities, an approach heavily influenced by Aristotelian philosophy, which defined the human as the rational animal. But then came Darwin and showed us that we are not as different from the animals as we thought we were.

Theologian Aubrey Moore famously said that Darwin “under the guise of a foe, did the work of a friend” for Christianity.

Furthermore, the following century and a half of ethology and evolutionary science revealed that our cognitive capacities are not bestowed upon us from above. Instead, they are rooted deep within our evolutionary history, and most of them are shared with at least some of the animals. If there is no such thing as a uniquely human capacity, then surely we were wrong all along to regard ourselves as distinctive, right?

Not quite. Theologian Aubrey Moore famously said that Darwin “under the guise of a foe, did the work of a friend” for Christianity. Confronted with the findings of evolutionary science, theologians were forced to abandon the outdated Aristotelian model of human distinctiveness and look for more creative ways to define the image of God. Instead of equating the image with a capacity that humans have, post-Darwinian theology regards the imago Dei in terms of something we are called to do or to be.

Defining the Imago Dei

Some theologians interpret the image functionally, as our election to represent God in the universe and exercise stewardship over creation. Others go for a relational interpretation, defining the image through the prism of the covenantal ‘I-Thou’ relationship that we are called to have with God, which is the fundament of human existence. To be in the image of God is to be in a personal, authentic relationship with God and with other human beings. Finally, there are others who interpret the imago Dei eschatologically, as a special destiny for human beings, a sort of gravitational pull that directs us toward existential fulfilment in the fellowship with God, in the eschaton. Which of these interpretations is the best? Well, hard to say. Without going into detail, let’s just say that there are good theological arguments for each of them.

If purely theological debate does not produce clear answers, we might then try to compare ourselves with the animals. This, though, does not lead us too far either. Although ‘technically’ we are not very different from the animals and we share with them similar bodily and cognitive structures, in practical terms the difference is huge. Our mental lives, our societies and our achievements are so radically different than theirs, that it is actually impossible to pinpoint just one dimension that represents the decisive difference. Animals are simply no match for us. This is good news for human distinctiveness, but it also means that we might be stuck in a never-ending theological debate on how to interpret the image of God, with so many options on our hand.

How Can AI help Define Who We Are?

This is where the emergence of human-level AI can be a game-changer. For the first time, we would be faced with the possibility of an equal or superior other, one that could potentially (out)match us in everything, from our intellectual capacities, to what we can do in the world, our relational abilities, or the complexity of our mental lives. Instead of agonizing about AI replacing us or rendering us irrelevant, we could relish the opportunity to better understand our distinctiveness through the insights brought about by the emergence of this new other.

The hypothesis of AGI might present theologians with an extraordinary opportunity to narrow down their definitions of human distinctiveness and the image of God. Looking at what would differentiate us from human-level AI, if indeed anything at all, may provide just the right amount of conceptual constraint needed for a better definition of the imago Dei. In this respect, our encounter with AI might prove to be our best shot at comparing ourselves with a different type of intelligence, apart from maybe the possibility of ever finding extra-terrestrial intelligence in the universe.

Dr. Marius Dorobantu is a research associate in science & theology at VU Univ. Amsterdam (NL). His PhD thesis (2020, Univ. of Strasbourg, FR) analysed the potential challenges of human-level AI for theological anthropology. The project he’s currently working on, funded by the Templeton WCF within the “Diverse Intelligences” initiative, is entitled ‘Understanding spiritual intelligence: psychological, theological, and computational approaches.‘

How to Integrate the Sacred with the Technical: an AI worldview

At first glance, the combination between AI and theology may sound like strange bedfellows. After all, what does technology have to do with spirituality? In our compartmentalization-prone western view, these disciplines are dealt with separately. Hence the first step on this journey is to reject this separation, aiming instead to hold these different perspectives in view simultaneously. Doing so fosters a new avenue for knowledge creation. Let’s begin by examining an AI worldview

What is AI?

AI is not simply a technology defined by algorithms that create outcomes out of binary code. Instead, AI brings with it a unique perspective on reality. For AI, in its present form, to exist there must be first algorithms, data, and adequate hardware. The first one came on the scene in the 1950s while the other two became a reality mostly in the last two decades. This may partially explain why we have been hearing about AI for a long time while only now it is actually impacting our lives on a large scale.

The algorithm in its basic form consists of a set of instructions to perform, such as to transform input into output. This can be as simple as taking the inputs (2,3), passing through an instruction (add them), and getting an output (5). If you ever made that calculation in your head, congratulations: you have used an algorithm. It is logical, linear, and repeatable. This is what gives it “machine” quality. It is an automated process to create outputs.

Data + Algorithms + Hardware = AI

Data is the very fuel of AI in its dominant form today. Without it, nothing would be accomplished. This is what differentiates programming from AI (machine learning). The first depends on a human person to imagine, direct and define the outcomes of an input. Machine learning is an automated process that takes data and transforms it into the desired outcome. It is learning because, although the algorithm is repeatable, the variability in the data makes the outcome unique and at times hard to predict. It involves risk but it also yields new knowledge. The best that human operators can do is to monitor the inputs and outputs while the machine “learns” from new data.

Data is digitized information so that it can be processed by algorithms. Human brains operate in an analog perspective, taking information from the world and processes them through neural pulses. Digital computers need information to be first translated into binary code before they can “understand” it. As growing chunks of our reality are digitized, the more the machines can learn.

All of this takes energy to take shape. If data is like the soul, algorithms like the mind, then hardware is like the body. It was only in the last few decades when, through fast advancement, it was possible to apply AI algorithms to the commensurate amount of data needed for them to work properly. The growth in computing power is one of the most underrated wonders of our time. This revolution is the engine that allowed algorithms to process and make sense of the staggering amount of data we now produce. The combination of the three made possible the emergence of an AI ecosystem of knowledge creation. Not only that but the beginning of an AI worldview.

Photo by Franki Chamaki on Unsplash

Seeing the World Through Robotic Eyes

How can AI be a worldview? How does it differ from existing human-created perspectives? It is so because its peculiar process of information processing in effect crafts a new vision of the world. This complex machine-created perspective has some unique traits worth mentioning. It is backward-looking but only to recent history. While we have a wealth of data nowadays, our record still does not go back for more than 20-30 years. This is important because it means it will bias the recent past and the present as it looks into the future.

Furthermore, an AI worldview while recent past-based is quite sensitive to emerging shifts. In fact, algorithms can detect variations much faster than humans. That is an important trait in providing decision-makers with timely warnings of trouble or opportunities ahead. In that sense, if foreseeing a world that is about to arrive. A reality that is here but not yet. Let the theologians understand.

It is inherently evidence-based. That it is, it approaches data with no presuppositions. Instead, especially at the beginning of a training process, it looks at from the equivalent of a child’s eyes. This is both an asset and a liability. This open view of the world enables it to discover new insights that would otherwise pass unnoticed to human brains that rely on assumptions to process information. It is also a liability because it can mistake an ordinary even for extraordinary simply because it is the first time it encounters it. In short, it is prime for forging innovation as long as it is accompanied by human wisdom.

Rationality Devoid of Ethics

Finally, and this is its more controversial trait, It approaches the world with no moral compass. It applies logic devoid of emotion and makes decisions without the benefit of high-level thinking. This makes it superior to human capacity in narrow tasks. However, it is utterly inadequate for making value judgments.

It is true that with the development of AGI (artificial general intelligence), it may acquire capabilities more like human wisdom than it is today. However, since machine learning (narrow AI) is the type of technology mostly present in our current world, it is fair to say that AI is intelligent but not wise, fast but not discerning, and accurate but not righteous.

This concludes the first part of this series of blogs. In the next blog, I’ll define the other side of this integration: theology. Just like AI, theology requires some preliminary definitions before we can pursue integration.

Integrating Technology and Religion in a Post-Secular World

This blog discusses how the post-secular can be a fitting stage for the promising dialogue between religion, science and technology.

Last Friday I “zoomed into” a stimulating academic dialogue entitled “Theology, Technology and the Post-Secular.” In it, a world-class team of scholars explored how the intersection of theology, science, and technology has evolved in the last 50 years and where it is going in the future. In this blog, I’ll provide a short overview of the conversation while also offering reflections on how the discussion enriches our dialogue in the AI theology community.

If the post-secular is our reality, it is time we learn how to build bridges there.

An Overview of the Field

The talk started with Dr. Tirosh-Samuelson asking Dr. Burdett to provide a short overview of the burgeoning field of religion and science. In the United States, the establishing of the Zygon journal of religion and science inaugurated the dialogue in 1966. In essence, the challenge was to find a place where these two can interact. Science tends to bracket the question of metaphysics (why things are the way they are) while religion lives in that space. This can often lead to misunderstanding and members of each side talking past each other.

Rejecting the notion of incompatibility, Dr. Burdett prefers to define the relationship as complex. For example, on the one hand, theology paved the way for scientific inquiry by first positing a belief in an orderly world. On the other hand, Christian Geocentrism clashed directly with Galileo’s accurate Heliocentric view. Therefore, the theologian believes in forging integrative models where conflict is not glossed over but carefully sorted out through respectful dialogue.

According to Dr. Burdett, the field is currently undergoing a shift from natural to human sciences. While the conversation started in topics like the implications Big Bang and Evolution, the focus now is on Neuroscience, questions of personhood and cognitive science of religion. The field has zoomed in from the macro view of cosmology to the micro view of anthropology.

Furthermore, the field is shying away from theoretical discussions opting instead to work on concrete questions. This new focus highlights where science and religion meet in the social-political stage. For example, how does religion and science interact when someone is considering in vitro fertilization? How do religion and science meet in people’s decision to take the vaccine? How does one comprehend the motivation of climate change deniers? These are just a few questions fueling research in this nascent field.

Image by Michael Schwarzenberger from Pixabay

A Theologian in a Tech-saturated World

In the next segment, Dr. Gaymon Bennett asked Dr. Burdett to speak about the role of the theologian in a technology-saturated world. How can a theologian tell a compelling story in the public square to those who do not align with his religious beliefs? Do religious perspectives still have a place in a secular world?

In his answer, Dr. Burdett pointed to Vatican II’s formula of Ressourcement and Agiornamiento. The first word has to do with a return to the sources, namely, the traditions and writings of the faith. It means examining carefully what we received through tradition and practices from past generations. The second points to updating that knowledge to the current context. How can these sources speak fresh insight into new evolving questions? The dual movement of reaching for the past while engaging with the present becomes a vital framework on how to do public theology in our times.

To illustrate the point, Dr. Burdett shared a personal anecdote about his journey to scholarship. Growing up in Northern California in the 1990s, he asked “what are the main driving forces shaping culture?” To him, it was clear that the rise of PCs, the Internet, and smartphones would categorically transform society. What would theology have to say about that? He wanted to know it from a technical perspective so he could see it from the inside. This is what moved him to focus his studies on the intersection of theology and technology after a stint in the industry.

Photo by Natalya Letunova on Unsplash

Grappling with the Post-Secular

Closer to the end, the conversation shifted towards grappling with the term “post-secular.” For decades, western society divided the world between the secular and the religious, with little intersection between the two. Science and technology have in effect been the major driving forces of secularism. Yet, we now find Silicon Valley, arguably the global center of this marriage, teeming with religious aspirations.

Even so, Dr. Burdett suggested that we still live in a God-haunted world. The removal of religion from public life left a jarring vacuum yet to be replaced. Along with religion was also any notion of the supernatural, all sacrificed in the altar of Modernity. Victorian poet Matthew Arnold expresses this sentiment well in the following verses from Dover Beach:

  The Sea of Faith
  Was once, too, at the full, and round earth’s shore
  Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.
  But now I only hear
  Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
  Retreating, to the breath
  Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
  And naked shingles of the world.

This vacuum generated a thirst for new avenues of meaning. This in turn dethroned science as the sole arbiter of truth as it proved inadequate to fill humanity’s soul. The post-secular dashes the illusion that science and technology are sufficient to explain the world and therefore cannot be elevated above other views. Instead, it is a space where religious, mystical, and secular (scientific and technological) views are on the same footing again. The task, therefore, is to bring all these disparate perspectives into respectful dialogue while recognizing their common goals.

Reflections and Implications

Here I offer a few reflections. The first one relates to an important clarification. Throughout the dialogue, the unspoken assumption was that the relationship between religion and science was equivalent to that of religion and technology. However, it is worth noting that while science and technology are deeply intertwined today, that was not always the case. Hence, I would love to see an interdisciplinary branch that focuses on questions of religion and technology independent of science.

It was also illuminating to see scholars name a phenomenon we have been experiencing for a while now. While I have not heard of the term before, its reality resonates well. Nowhere else is this more true than in the cyber global space of social media. Given the pervasive nature of these platforms, this reality is also spilling over to other spheres of human connection. University, churches, companies, and non-profits are also becoming post-secular spaces. This is a fascinating, harrowing, and alarming development all at once.

Finally, I would add that it is not just about connecting with ultimate meaning but also about a return to nature. Whether it is the climate crisis or the blatant confession of how disconnected we are from creation, the post-secular is about digging down to our roots.

Maybe the sea of faith is not just calling us to ultimate meaning but also to encounter the oceans again.

Does God Hear Robot Prayers? A Modern Day Parable

The short video above portrays Juanello Turiano’s (1500-1585 AD) invention, an automated monk that recites prayers while moving in a circle. It was commissioned by King Philip II to honor a Friar whom he believed had healed his son. The engineer delivered a work of art, creepy but surprisingly life-like, in a time where Artificial Intelligence was but a distant dream. This Medieval marvel now sits at the Smithsonian museum in Washington, DC.

Take a pause to watch the 2 minute video before reading on.

What can this marvelous work of religious art teach us today, nearly 5 centuries later, about our relationship with machines?

In a beautifully well-written piece for Aeon, Ed Simon asks whether robots can pray. In discussing the automated monk, he argues that the medieval invention was not simply simulating prayer. It was actually praying! Its creation was an offer of thanksgiving to the Christian God and till this day continues to recite its petitions.

Such reflection opens the door for profound theological questions. For if the machine is indeed communicating with the divine, would God listen?

Can an inanimate object commune with the Creator?

We now turn to a short parable portraying different responses to the medieval droid.

A Modern Day Parable

Photo by Drew Willson on Unsplash

In an effort to raise publicity for its exhibit, the Smithsonian takes Turiano’s invention above in a road show. Aiming to create a buzz, they place the automated monk in a crowded square in New York city along with a sign that asks:

When this monk prays, does God listen?

They place hidden cameras to record peoples’ reaction.

A few minutes go by and a scientist approaches to inspect the scene. Upon reading the sign he quickly dismisses it as an artifact from a bygone era. “Of course, machines cannot pray” – he mulls. He posits that because they are not alive, one cannot ascribe to them human properties. That would be anthropomorphising. That is when people project human traits on non-human entities. “Why even bother asking why God would listen if prayer itself is a human construct?” Annoyed by the whole matter, he walks away hurriedly as he realizes he is late for work.

Moments later, a priest walks by and stops to examine the exhibit. The religious person is taken aback by such question. “Of course, machines cannot pray, they are mere human artifacts” – he mulls. “They are devoid of God’s image which is exclusive property of humans” he continues. “Where in Scripture can one find a example of an object that prays? Machines are works of the flesh, worldly pursuits not worthy of an eternal God’s attention” he concludes. Offended by the blasphemous display, the priest walks away from the moving monk on to holier things.

Finally, a child approaches the center of the square. She sees the walking monk and runs to the droid filled with wonder. “Look at the cool moving monk, mom!” she yells. Soon, she gives it a name: monk Charlie. She sits down and watches mesmerized by the intricate movements of his mouth. The child notices the etched sandals on his feet. She also pays attention to the movement of his arms and mouth.

After a while, she answers: “Yes, God listens to Charlie.” She joins with him, imitating his movement with sheer delight. In that moment, the droid becomes her new playmate.

How would you respond?

Waking up to the Power of Dreams for Self-Awareness

I am not sure how it started but I was riding shotgun with Dr. Charles Stanley. Yes, that Charles Stanley, the famous pastor who just recently retired from ministry. We were deep in a conversation where he shared his regrets from the last years. I was honored to be worthy of his trust but deep inside was wondering: why me? When it came to my turn to talk, I awkwardly mumbled trite words of empathy and encouragement. What else was I to do? It probably took a lot for him to share his heart with me, a stranger.

We finally arrived at our destination. At that point, I realized we were in front of a hospital. Dr. Stanley went in and when I opened the door, to my surprise, it fell out. Felling embarrassed, I tried putting the door back on the hinges but it was not staying. At that point, Dr. Stanley came back out and signaled me to come in. He told me to not bother as the door was broken for a long time. “Not bother?” I thought; “I can’t just leave the door here in the street”. Finally, I tried one more time when I saw that the side mirror of the broken door was covered with gray epoxy.

That is when I woke up.

An Unexpected Journey

I wasn’t one to pay attention to dreams. To me, they were mere confusing accidents of nature carrying little relevance to the real world. Occasionally, I would remember one, tell my wife, and move on with life. Nothing to see here, carry on with more pressing matters. Yet, recently my perspective changed. All it took was social isolation and a few sleepless nights that forced me to pay more attention to my dreams.

Apparently, I am not alone. Many have reported a surge of vivid dreams lately. At first, I thought this was simply an anomaly. However, the more I journaled about it, the more I realized how little I have paid attention to my dreams. What if they were trying to tell me something important? What if they revealed truths about myself I refuse to confront?

It was then, through friends and a few google searches, that I discovered Jungian psychology. A contemporary of Freud, Carl Jung was one of the fathers of modern psychology. He started his own school of thought in the field which among other things took dreams seriously. He believed they were not simply side effects of stomach indigestion but important symbolic messages our subconscious was trying to convey.

Faithful Dreams

In my religious upbringing, dreams played a role. Inspired by biblical passages, dreams could be warnings, premonitions, or messages of hope. In short, the tradition is aware of the importance of dreams even if centuries of Enlightenment in the West has made serious theological engagement with it a rarity at best. Yet, my religious upbringing was too concerned with morality to dig deeper into the symbolic world of dreams. It often gave me little options as to what the dream could be.

Hence, unless the dream was revealing a message of eternal value or carrying a warning of things to come, there was simply no interest in probing further. It lacked a more robust understanding of self that went beyond a narrow consideration of right and wrong. Consequently, in an attempt to focus my eyes on heavenly topics, it left me blind to the earthly mundane work of self-awareness. This where the wealth of knowledge accumulated through psychoanalysis in the last century and a half comes in hand.

Ultimately, Jungian analysis focuses on what the dream has to speak of the dreamer him or herself. If we suspend the question of source, namely who or what is creating the dream, the dream is there to deliver a message to the individual (or ego, the conscious individual). It most often is not about an earth-shattering message but a hidden insight that helps the conscious self better understand what is underneath.

In that sense, looking at dreams this way requires faith. That is, it requires trust that whatever source is speaking to us is worth listening to. Furthermore, it calls for a belief that that message is there ultimately for our good. I confess, that I struggled with this one. As a Christian, I was trained to doubt the human voice. Inherent in our theology is the idea that humanity is fallen and in need of divine intervention. This can oftentimes lead us to turning away from our humanity in pursuit godly things. Yet, here we are invited to trust that God can and will speak through our very human subconscious.

Extending an Invitation

The best of Christian tradition embodies the habit of hospitality. It is often preoccupied with inviting others into a new reality. In the same way, my journey through Jungian psychology is shaping into an invitation to go within. It is a call to listen to dreams and imagination without judgement, only seeking to listen to what is saying. Can our dreams speak life into our awaken selves?

Unfortunately, staying in the abstract level will not be sufficient. An invitation must translate into a call to action. Action in this area, for many of us who have grown distant and neglectful of the inner life, requires some training and coaching. Towards that aim, I was delighted to discover from the suggestion of a friend, Robert A Johnson’s Inner work: Using Dreams and Active Imagination for Personal Growth. This practical yet dense book is proving to be a great tool in my own personal journey within.

In the next blog, I will summarize the main points Dr. Johnson brings up in this book. Yet, you don’t have to wait for them. If you are serious about this journey, go ahead and purchase the book and read it for yourself. In this extended time of social isolation, it is never too late to embark on a journey inwards.

Pandemic Lessons: Moving from Denial to Engagement

In a previous blog, I discussed the role of prophetic models in guiding world leaders to respond to this crisis. Here, I go to a more personal level, addressing the temptation of denial in a time of crisis. This is one of the pandemic lessons I dare not ignore. I confess this is by far my strongest tendency when the going gets tough. My first reaction is not to fight or flight but simply freeze. I retreat inwardly shielding myself from the suffering around me.

This time, with God’s help, I must do differently.

A Global Initiation Rite

Father Richard Rohr offers a provocative perspective for this pandemic. Skirting away any suggestions that this is God’s punishment on humanity, instead he sees it as a global rite of passage. It is a collective experience of suffering aiming to mature us by reminding us of our frailty. This perspective emerges from his in-depth study of male initiation ceremonies, a global phenomenon where elders teach young boys the deep truths of their culture.

As he studied these rituals, he learned they contained recurring core messages. In short, they aimed to convey the following to its initiates:

Life is hard.
You are not that important.
Your life is not about you.
You are not in control.
You are going to die.

Read this list again and pause for a moment.

In a time of greater gender equality, it is fair to ask why girls did not go through these types of ceremonies. I do not know for sure but I would venture to guess the feminine life had more natural ways to initiate them. When you are raised to serve and groomed to endure child-birth, these messages have a way of coming to you naturally. Till this day, it is usually men who need to get smacked around a bit to learn these truths lest they think too highly of themselves and, God forbid, run for president.

Going back to our time of crisis, what would this perspective mean? At the heart of it, I believe Father Rohr is inviting us to embrace this period as an opportunity for personal growth that we experience as a global community. We have all unwillingly entered this rite. Let’s receive it as an opportunity to re-center, reset and re-orient inwardly and toward each other.

When wedded with meaning, suffering can produce beautiful fruits of virtue, love and wisdom.

Memories from a Previous Crisis

When this pandemic started, it reminded me of a previous global crisis I went through. Almost two decades ago, I was a senior in college going about my business when two planes crashed into the WTC Towers in New York. That crisis hit close to home because my brother lived in Manhattan at the time and I immediately feared for his life. Thankfully, he survived unharmed even if traumatized by that horrific experience.

What I remember, however, was not the shock or concern but a persistent attempt to mentally distance myself from that reality. Once I learned my brother had survived and had a chance to see him, I jumped right back into life. I refused to spend hours watching the news from it. I never reflected on what that meant for the world or even how that could affect me. Life had to continue as planned. Nothing to see here.

In fact, I remember being bothered that my routine of classes had been disrupted. Even as my brother was a survivor, I made no attempt to connect with the pain of those in New York and of the nation in general. I didn’t even reflect theologically on it. I filed under the category of “bad people do bad things,” and that was that.

Regrettably, I missed the opportunity to enter into that global rite of initiation, share in the suffering and learn from its wisdom. I went through it and came out the the other side unchanged.

From Denial to Engagement

I decided this crisis was too important to waste. That is when I am looking for ways to step away from avoidance and denial into active engagement. One surprising gift of this time has been a flourishing in my writing. If before the crisis, I had to come up with ideas for blogs, now I can’t finish these ideas fast enough. I am still limited by the realities of shelter in place and therefore have not published significantly more. However, I sense my voice coming through more clearly.

Another practice is to contact loved ones that are far. I have done a lot more of that than I used to. Now there is the realization we couldn’t travel to see each other face-to-face. Then, the Skype or Zoom screen becomes more bearable, more cherished and all the more real. It is life-giving to see each other eyes even if it is through a 2 dimensional screen.

Finally, I have grown to empathize more with others. Gone is the usual habit to shelter myself from bad news. This is a global experience and we are all being impacted by it. There is no escaping. Even social media, in its best days, has become a true place of encounter where we sing, cry, laugh and share our sheltered lives. Whether it is through photos, tweets, videos, memes and music – they multiply and amplify our shared humanity.

This is not to say that I wake up every day cheering on the opportunity to face the unknown. There are dark days of sadness, exhaustion, anger, denial or incipient disconnection. This is a crisis after all, one that we did not choose nor one we can simply turn off when it gets uncomfortable.

Surprising gifts often come intertwined with painful losses. Hope emerges wrapped in fear for the future. Love appears in the ever threat of rejection.

Hence I invite all, in this time of social distancing, to resist the temptation of denial through generous acts of engagement.

Quarantine Cooking: When Wisdom Puts on an Apron

Patience is calm acceptance that things can happen in a different order than the one you have in your mind.
David G. Allen

An Unexpected Dialogue

In an ordinary afternoon, I felt a conversation taking place. Was it with God or only my imagination? I just felt as if wisdom had come down from somewhere and was staring at me ,ever so humorously critical, but with a glistening promise. And, I might add, with a pinch of wonder.

“Today you’re going to relearn cooking”

“Oh, is that so? Hmm, isn’t my cooking good enough?”

“It is good, but you have forgotten a simple and very important principle of cooking.”

“Hmm, and what is that?”

“To have delight while in the process. To cook is to appreciate. To cook is to wait for the proper timing, and to cut the right ingredients. Preferably methods that might take longer, but will taste as love and kindness had been added with a pinch of salt.”

“And how could this be possible? How can abstract feelings turn into ingredients?”

“Hands are carriers. They carry objects, but also carry stories. A newborn held tight, sweet strokes of assurance given by fathers and mothers, a handheld grip of a lover. These stories carry feelings, and when you cook, with patience, embracing each step, you become a storyteller.”

The Tyranny of the Practical

Living and cooking had become straining to me. Everything needed to be practical and fast. I always felt I had a clock ticking and that at any moment the alarm would yell how long I was taking and that people were hungry.

Quarantined, I started to have time.

I started to notice how my cooking wasn’t pleasurable. I noticed as well how I was dependent on methods that probably didn’t make the food tastier. If I knew ways to make food tastier and had time to create, why not do it? It would take patience, time management plus organization, and probably a total change of perspective. In the end, would it be worth it?

Do I even know how to make my own seasoning from scratch?

I sliced the garlic in tiny pieces. With a knife. I could have used three thousand devices that could have made the process take seconds, but I felt that I had to experience those long 5 minutes (maybe 2, in my mind actually it felt like 10). I put on some music, sometimes humming and swaying while tasting a hot spoon of magical sauce, just like I remembered my mom love to do. I started listening, and not just trying to get things done. I let creativity flow through my mind, through my hands. I started to use things that I wouldn’t, but because I listened, those ingredients would whisper what they needed more.

Learning to Slow Down

Humanity is acquiring all the right technology for all the wrong reasons.
R. Buckminster Fuller

Technology is not our enemy. Making things practical aren’t the villains, but forgetting the importance of waiting and the eminence of patience can be. How, if things happen in a different order than what we had planned, they can still be joyful and wonderful!

What could be the wrong reasons, and what could be the right ones?

Could simply cooking remind me of things that I had forgotten that were important?

And yet, I am no master to all these elements. Like I once said to my mother while we were discussing important things in life: “I am still learning”.

I’m learning to pick wisely, to spend time in what matters, to cut with patience and to listen to the right melody. To sway in the right tempo, and to embrace the right feelings.

STAY HOME, STAY SAFE, STAY PATIENT!

Lidia Krüger Braconnot is an adventurer and a storytelling enthusiast. Having lived in many different places, she now lives in Brazil, where she is an English teacher for all ages. She is 21 years old with a dream of expressing in beautiful detail what life is about, hoping to reach out to people in a comical and lighthearted way.

A Pandemic Turn of Events

It all started very quietly and hidden. It felt as if it was a world away.

Who could have known that a tiny, unwelcomed intruder could change everything so abruptly?

Who could have known that everything that I had faith in, all I was working for, everything that I envisioned for the future, could change in a matter of days?

I remember coming home from a job meeting. There details were exposed about the challenges the company would be facing inevitably, as the crisis was spreading throughout the country. All the fatalities, numbers and percentages were running through my mind as if a pandora box had just been opened. I honestly hadn’t considered what was going on till then. I sat down on my bed, trying to get a hold of sanity as if she had run for a coffee break.

“What could happen? What could change? Will I get infected, will I infect others?”

“God, will I die?”

I remember feeling claustrophobic and not knowing for sure if I had ever felt that way. I felt my heart racing, the pressure made my chest ache. I felt the walls closing in. My comfortable bedroom turned into a “quarantine confinement”. I hadn’t felt this anxiety for years. I had long forgotten what it felt like and how my body reacted under so much pressure. The longer I questioned myself of my own safety and if I had washed my hands before entering the room, the more made me expectant of inevitable doom. I led myself to outrageous conclusions.

I had let fear take control.

Until I heard the faintest voice whisper inside of me:

“Why do you fear? Have I ever once left your side? If I haven’t, why would I now?”

Hot tears started to melt from my eyelashes while I felt the warmest feeling.

For years anxiety had been a constant pain, sometimes would come without warning, making me question through raggedy breaths everything I believed in. Always making me wonder: “Am I loved? Am I safe? Will things be better? “

Through the years I had learned that trusting God with my future would cost me everything, but in return he would embrace me with peace, love and courage. Anxiety would pass by, but I felt rooted. Truths that could not be shaken held on to me. I learned that even though I would feel weak at times, all I had to do was take one step at a time. Close my eyes. Count to ten. Remember all the precious things in life I cherished, and let him take control.

Everything was under control, I had it all planned out. My week was perfectly squeaky organized. Procrastination had taken a terrible blow that month until a huge pandemic turn of events forced me to change things a bit. It made me look into myself more intently. It made me appreciate my family, my wonderful grandparents that inspire me to constantly reinvent myself into greatness. It made me even more sure of the decisions I had made until now, and made me wonder if I could make wiser decisions for tomorrow.

STAY HOME, STAY SAFE!!

___________________________________________________________

A Decade Later: Where is the Great Emergence Now?

In a previous blog, I introduced two key images from Phyllis Tickle’s The Great Emergence. In this blog, I engage the book critically and reflect on how its ideas are standing the test of time. Twelve years since the books’ publication, to what extent they continue to shed light in our current moment and to what extent they need adjusting? It is unfortunate that Phyllis Tickle is no longer with us to engage in dialogue. May she rest in peace with her savior. Yet, I pay homage to her legacy by engaging with it faithfully.

Reformation, Counter-Reformation And Technology

The Great Emergence claims that Christianity is undergoing a reformation. Is that really true? To answer this question we must first better understand our historical moment. That is, screen technologies have enabled not just the fast dissemination of information but an unprecedented democratization of truth. Let me explain. We live in a world where competing views of the world can co-exist without being settled by an external authoritative force. There is no-longer one source of truth legitimized by political or financial power. Instead, in a world of small screens, individuals are custom-making their reality by the minute.

This development is rather complex, one that would require multiple blogs to fully explain. Yet, the point I am trying to make is that people with diametrically opposing views can be physically side-by-side while living in different worlds. Even as the same historical events touch them, their framework of reference is so different that they might as well be living in alternative realities. That is, this is not just about seeing things differently but fundamentally experiencing them differently.

What that means is that we have no longer one historical moment but a multiplicity of parallel narratives. Hence, one can’t no longer simply state that the church is undergoing a process of Reformation. Instead, what you have are currents of reform and preservation living parallel and at times colliding against each other. In short, one can speak of both a Reformation and a Counter-Reformation happening side by side within the Christian community in our time.

The Swirling Center and Secularization

In a previous blog, I explored the book’s metaphor of a swirling center to explain what was happening in North American Christianity. The Great Emergence spoke of a center in which people were mixing different elements of the diverse segments of the faith. Yet, this metaphor is limited in that it suggests a mixing of elements internal to Christianity only. It does not account for when Christian groups are going outside the household to find inspiration.

For example, churches that now offer yoga in their premises, a recent increased interest in mindfulness among mainline churches and the incorporation of psychological knowledge and techniques into evangelical counseling ministries. It also fails to account for the integration of science and theology and current reflection on technology. These are all examples where Christian groups are interacting with outside agents in search of wisdom.

I would characterize this mixing with outside elements as part of the irresistible pull of secularism on religious communities of all faiths. When saying secularism, I do not mean anti-religious per se but instead as outside of traditional religious bounds. The term is there to describe human activities that occur external to religious frameworks. In that, and here is an important point, it does not mean anti-Christian necessarily. In other words, forces of secularization are not destroying the Christian message but forcing it to be re-framed in new terms. I will speak more about that in future blogs.

The Dismantling of Organized Religion

Can we even speak today of an emerging Christianity? This may strike as a paradoxical statement given that I have devoted the last four blogs to the this phenomenon. But the question is less about recognizing the inevitable shifts in Christianity and more about whether what is emerging is Christianity at all. Is this an emergence of new Christianity or a whole different thing altogether?

In the previous paragraph I spoke of secularism not destroying but re-shaping Christianity. Yet, could it be that it is changing it to such an extent where it can no longer be a religion or faith as originally idealized? To be honest, I don’t really know the answer to this question. Instead, what I see this as an open question to which the answer is unfolding each day. The future of Christianity will hinge upon how we answer it.

Here is where I move on to another seminal work on this topic. Namely, Diana Buttler Bass book Christianity After Religion. If Phyllis Tickle framed well the crisis, Diana Butler Bass offers glimpses of where it is going. She recognizes that the long term effects of secularization represents a wholesale shift of Christianity from religion to spirituality. How is that happening? That is what I would like to explore in the next blogs.

Jesus Christ: Divine Healer but Mediocre Carpenter

I love the meme above! So much so, that it inspired me to write this blog. This will be different from my usual posts that tend to focus on theology, technology and science. Instead, I offer here a personal reflection. It is not inspired in a biblical passage per se but on the idea suggested above. Namely, that Jesus was a mediocre carpenter. Judging by the chair and Joseph’s thoughts, Jesus decision to go to ministry had more to it than simply being the son of God.

An enduring claim of Christian tradition is that Jesus is fully human and fully divine. Why is that? The Church fathers did not arrive at that overnight. It was borne out of a long process that included disputes, prayer, endless councils and a few heretics that helped steer Christian theology towards truth. What is unclear, however, is how this dual nature worked together in Jesus’ time on earth. On that question, the only issue the church was concerned with was to state that Jesus could have sinned but did not.

Furthermore, the Gospel writers don’t help on this question either. In all four gospels we get very little about Jesus’ life prior to his ministry. Apart from birth narratives and few childhood anecdotes, we really get nothing from that formative time of Jesus life. This leaves us today to sheer speculation. That is what I proceed to next.

What does it mean to be divine-human?

Setting the question of sinfulness aside, I would like to speculate precisely about that period when Jesus was , between the age of 12 and 30 years of age, not fully into his calling but maturing as a person. I want to take the suggestion from the meme above, namely that Jesus was a mediocre carpenter, while still holding faithful to the church confession that he was both divine and human. Does a mediocre carpenter fit into this picture? I think that depends a lot about how we think of humanity and divinity.

My first impulse for many years was simply to reject this possibility. In my mind, sinless humanity meant perfection. That is, it wasn’t just that Jesus resisted temptations for cardinal sins but that he was literally perfect. Hence, I would have rejected such suggestion and instead would have speculated that the son of God was an excellent carpenter. Probably, the best of his kind who ran a successful business only to leave it all for ministry when the time came. He knew all along carpentry was not his “calling” but because of his perfect nature, he could not help himself but do an excellent job.

Because we have no way of knowing, this could very well be true. Yet, now I wonder if my previous assumptions were actually undermining Jesus’ humanity. Does a divine-human nature really mean perfection not just in doing what is right but also in ability, talent and competence? Could God be well represented by a lousy carpenter? Could the very idea of perfection be a false assumption of God’s nature?

The Mediocre Carpenter

Surprisingly, now the thought of a mediocre carpenter actually draws me closer to Jesus. Let me explain. First, for full disclosure, I am terribly challenged with manual labor. No, this is not an excuse to get out of hard work. I really suck at it. I am grateful to live in an age where one can make a living with their brain rather than their hands. Also, it goes without saying that I admire all those enlightened human beings who have a gift of crafting things with their hands. In an age of computers and automation, their gift is being undermined which is a sad development.

Yet, the thought of Jesus as a mediocre carpenter is not just appealing because I can relate to sucking at carpentry. To me it has a deeper meaning. It means that the human-divine being was truly subject to limitations. This was not just a statement of basic human needs. It included limitations in ability, talent and competence. It means that God was comfortable inhabiting a less than perfect body and mind.

Furthermore, it could suggest that Jesus did not always know his calling in ministry. Maybe, he too had to struggle through the arduous road of maturity that we all go through. Maybe he started off thinking he would be a good carpenter like his dad only to see God call him through his failure to be a good one. This also sounds a lot like my own journey towards calling. One where failure was more clarifying than success, pain more profitable than joy.

Human Frailty is not a Sin

My point here is not to paint a Jesus that looked like me, sharing my own experiences. While that could have its value, it undermines the deeper truth of this reflection. The mediocre carpenter is not simply an image to make us feel good about ourselves. It is a step towards de-coupling divinity from perfection. It is a step further in taking seriously God’s act of incarnation. It was not just in the humble manger but also in the limited human being that God chose to dwell.

To me this amplifies the message of God’s salvation through Jesus. The point of the cross was not simply to show our dependency on God to fix us and this world even as both are part of salvation. It was also to include an affirmation that human frailty is good enough for God. Frailty, limitation, imperfections are not sin. They are part of nature that we learn to accept and learn from. They are the very conduits for growth and even revelation of who God is.

This week, as you are working from home or homeschooling your kids (or doing both at the same time), remember the mediocre carpenter. In the times where you mess up, lose our cool, grow discouraged or simply gets gripped with anxiety – know that the mediocre carpenter is also the divine healer. He likes to meet us in our worse, is comfortable with our frailty and sanctifies it with his divinity.

He also says that it is ok to mess up every now and then.