technology Archives

CTA Conference 2019: Engagement, Solidarity and Hope

I was looking forward to this conference for months. It was my only opportunity in the year to get together with friends that I interact online throughout the year. The line up of speakers was impressive. There were academics, activists, engineers, theologians, pastors and entrepreneurs which made it for a fairly unique event destined to spark engaging dialogue and stretch us into uncomfortable spaces.

In the opening, Micah Redding, Christian Transhumanist Association (CTA) president and founder mentioned that if the conference did no make you uncomfortable then it was not doing its job. This was not a place for cozy group think. In eyes of many, Christianity and Transhumanism make for strange bedfellows. Furthermore, mixing religion, science and technology is still a novel concept. As an emerging organization, CTA is still defining its own identity in an environment where many are too willing to dismiss it as an oxymoron. On the one hand, Science and Technology are weary of religious talk getting into their business. Religious people, on the other hand, get very uncomfortable with movements that exalt a changing humanity.

Entering a new world

Conference main speakers: Science Mike, Liz Parish, Cheryle Renee Moses and Jim Stump

The morning kicked off with Bio Logos VP, Jim Stump. He offered preliminary thoughts on how to engage Transhumanism from a Christian perspective. In his view, the jury was still out on the movement and its impact. With that said, instead of fearful rejection, he proposed active engagement. In other words, it was an opportunity to enter the conversation as disciples of Christ with humility, caution and openness.

This was a fitting introduction as the speakers that followed exemplified that engagement. They offered a Christian cultural critique that was not limited to Transhumanism but expanded into digital cultures, AI and the Internet. It is hard to summarize here all the great points made throughout these presentations. I hope that CTA posts the presentations so those interested can browse through them.

One speaker that stood out was Liz Parish. Liz was patient zero in genetic modification treatment. She underwent this unprecedented procedure in 2015 and since then has stayed involved in the longevity and human enhancement movement as an entrepreneur. Her company, BioViva, seeks to find safe ways to expand to make genetic intervention more affordable. Watching her presentation gave mixed feelings of awe, hope and fear. It reminded me that we were entering a new world, one full of possibilities but with no shortage of dangers. Messing with our genes is not something I am comfortable with. Yet, what if that is the way for the cure of many terminal diseases? Don’t we owe ourselves to at least try? Liz Parish’s life and work challenged us all to re-think our pre-conceived answers to these questions.

Learning Solidarity

Right before lunch, I received a text from Micah. I was scheduled to speak in the afternoon right before a panel on future and equity. My presentation explored how the movie Black Panther, as a prime example of Afro-Futurism, represented a hopeful, original and promising vision for the future. In the text, Micah informed me that Cheryle Renee Moses, an African-American activist and one of the key speakers in the event objected to the title of my presentation “Dreaming Alternative Futures with Black Panther.” The plan was to sit down at lunch to discuss her concerns.

In our conversation, Cheryle expressed that she had reservations with the fact that I, a Euro-Brazilian was speaking about a story that belonged to Africans. She was also offended at the word “dreaming” for it reminded her of how slave owners have used that word to keep slaves from asserting their humanity. To be more specific, she was referring to how Christianity was used to tell slaves to simply hope for a better future after death rather than fight for freedom. It reminded her, I write this with tears in my eyes, of how the gospel was used, and in some cases continues to be used for social control and racial subjugation.

There was no choice other than to pull the presentation from the program and to extend the following forum on future and equities. From a personal level this was a difficult decision. I had poured hours into that presentation and thought that it would actually connect a mostly white and male audience with a beautiful African vision of the future. Yet, there was something happening here much bigger than that. If we were to be serious about equitable futures, we could not ignore Cheryle’s concern. As an activist, she was speaking for the margins in a way that none of us could. Her voice at that moment was more important than anything I had to say.

Photo by Mike Morrell – Elias Kruger, Cheryle Renee Moses and Micah Redding

In the forum, Cheryle reminded us of the uncomfortable truths about racism and how this continues to impact even the conversations we were having about technology, faith and the future. She challenged the audience to expand their networks to ensure they were hearing perspectives from diverse voices. For a room full of white men, still the vast majority involved in the conversation, the awkwardness was palpable. It was an unplanned, uncomfortable, awkward moment that was sorely needed.

A few days later, after reflecting on this experience, it dawned on me that I never apologized or expressed sympathy for the hurtful reality that Cheryle was bringing forth. Thankfully, I was able to call her this week and express my heartfelt sorrow for this painful heritage that we often want to forget rather than make it right. Cheryle graciously accepted my apologies and thanked me for reaching out. I also asked her to review this text to ensure I was not working under short-sighted assumptions in my writing. Part of building equitable futures is learning to listen to diverse voices and feel their pain.

It is only in solidarity that we can move forward.

Fruitful Conversations

Like most conferences, great dialogue happens in the breakout sessions. In an age of on-demand streaming, one can watch great speakers at the tip of their fingers. What is rare and even more valuable is good old face-to-face conversations. We were a small but high caliber group. Among attendants there were scientists, theologians, college students, professors, pastors and a good share of technology enthusiasts. The conference offered two opportunities for break out conversations with a broad range of topics.

Photo by Seth Cartwright

In the first one, I attended a break out on “AI and the impact on the local church.” Not surprisingly the topic attracted its share of ministry-oriented folks. It did not take long, about 5 minutes to be precise, for our conversation to veer into sex-bots. That’s what happens when pastors discuss AI, we joked . Beyond that, we had fruitful discussions on the differences between narrow and general AI, applications for ministry and the technology impact on social inclusion. Some reported the church’s reluctance to embrace new technologies. Others discussed the benefits and perils of taking virtual communion or conducting virtual baptism. Welcome to doing ministry in the 21st century.

In the second breakout, I joined a stimulating conversation on the future of Christian Transhumanism (XH+). We discussed the baggage Transhumanism carries and why many Christians are reluctant to join or be identified with the movement. There is also resistance from secular Transhumanism in accepting the legitimacy of a religious voice. We explored which audiences had the most to benefit from XH+ and found that it would fit well within a faith at work movement. At its best, the XH+ could help Christians boldly connect their faith with their vocations. Yet, our discussion left many unanswered questions. What is XH+? How does it fit the church ecosystem? What does it believe? These are questions the CTA will be engaging for years to come.

Unexpected Ending

Science Mike closed the night with a stimulating and at times entertaining presentation on technology, faith and Transhumanism. He brought up many valuable points. For one, he questioned the narrative that AI is overtaking humanity and computers would surpass human intelligence. Showing recent trends in computer performance, Mike bluntly put: “Electrons are getting tired of our shit!” In short, we are now finding limits in Moore’s law challenging the projections for machine super intelligence. He also questioned the possibility of brain uploading, cryonics and even whether life prolongation was desirable.

At points, he delivered heart-felt reflections on how one could live out a Christian faith in the midst of so much technological change. He affirmed the bodily shape of our humanity asserting that mind uploading was simply confusing people with brains on a stick. He also encouraged us to re-think our relationship with technology as a separate entity from nature. As an example, he said we should look at Manhattan as an island filled with human nests. In making these points, he offered some provocative insights to help us move forward in a time of great confusion.

Unfortunately, his talk ended in a very pessimistic tone. Mike was weary of Silicon Valley and American Christianity, claiming that both were built on a foundation of white supremacy. Because of that, he lost faith in them and instead was looking for ways to live a Christian life that resisted these forces. Hence, he saw little hope on technology or the church in effecting positive change in the world.

While partially agreeing with his assessment, I was disappointed that he could not also see the potential and opportunity for Christianity and technology in our time. That is what attracted me the XH+ in the first place. I saw it as an alternative to the prevailing luddite narrative that focuses on the negative impact of technology in the world. While he left a grave reminder of our current reality, he overlooked the potentiality of technology and faith. These issues are not mutually exclusive, we can dismantle oppressive systems while building an alternative equitable-techno-natural-spiritual future. In fact, accomplishing the first is only possible by pursuing the second.

I would like to hear more about this hopeful vision in the 2020 CTA conference.

AI Theology Goes to Brazil Part 4 – Postmodernity and AI

In part 3, I described my learning experience with holistic ministry in Brazil after meeting with local pastors in Caratinga. In this blog, closing the series on my Brazil trip, I describe in more detail the last talk I gave in the university. Unlike previous talks, this time I was there more to listen than to speak. The event consisted of a panel discussion entitled: “AI and Postmodernity.” The plan was for me to give a 15 minute introduction and then pass on the discussion to a panel of professors.

With such a loaded title, I struggled to develop a suitable introduction. Postmodernity is such a broad term which does not lend itself to simple definitions. Moreover, it is not something usually discussed alongside a technology. The task before me was to elucidate points of correlation that would spark fruitful conversation. The preparation forced me to think deeper about some assumptions inherent in AI technology. After some careful thought, I came up with the following:

All problems have a technological solution
Nature (including humanity) is an algorithm that needs to be decoded
Data reveals the truth and shows the way to solutions
Every activity can and should be optimized

The more I reflect on these, the more I see them informing the development of Artificial Intelligence. Without these assumptions in place, I don’t see AI attracting the attention, funding and research needed to develop further. This is only happening because business leaders, politicians and investors have bought into these claims.

For Postmodernity, I framed the topic around four key implications that I found to be relevant for the panel discussion. They were the following:

The acceptance and celebration of diversity
Skepticism towards institutions or any power structure
Increase in both nihilism and fatalism
Openness to all narratives especially those coming from the margins

Bring the two together, I formulated four questions to spark the discussion among panel participants. Here were the questions:

What is the socio-cultural dominant narrative in Caratinga?
How can AI empower groups in the margins?
How can AI foster human flourishing in the local level?
Could the development of AI be a sign of a return to Modernity?

The panel consisted of professors in engineering, law, computer science, theology and social service. Their answers stayed mostly around themes of ensuring technology is used to enhance not diminish humanity. For example, the Social Service professor expressed the hope that data collection could improve their work with vulnerable populations. The Computer Science professor emphasized the differences between the human brain and AI. The Theology professor talked about the potential of AI for furthering ministry opportunities and addressing income inequality.

When hearing their answers, I sensed a bit of a disconnect on where I expected the discussion to go and where it actually went. While I set up the stage preparing for a more philosophical discussion of AI and postmodernity, the professors mostly avoided such approaches preferring instead to speak of concrete ways they understood that technology could affect their work. The panel ended up being about impact of AI applications rather than how it could change our view of humanity and the world we live in.

This disconnect only highlighted the importance of context. I noticed how my North-American academic context was dominated by deep specialists while the particular academic context I encountered in Brazil was run by generalists. This was not limited to academia but reflected more how the local society worked. People tended to rely on a broader more general level of knowledge rather than simply consulting the specialist for each field at hand.

I realized that such environment made them more receptive to the message of integration that I was proposing. In a place where people tend to rely on generalized knowledge, they already are doing the integration I suggest between faith, science and technology. They may not be doing directly on those topics but are practicing it in other areas.

On the flip side, reliance on a generalized knowledge can hinder more in-depth reflection on a specific topic. So, while I mostly agreed with the professors that technology should not replace humanity, I hoped to hear more nuanced arguments on how that could be the case in their context. I was hoping for new insights of how technology could integrate with their environment to solve deeply entrenched social problems. I was hoping for more layers of “why” and “how” in their answer. With that said, the panel was still fruitful in that it sparked discussion on how technology is impacting diverse segments of society. That in itself is an important step forward.

I left Caratinga deeply impacted by my time there. As the old adage goes, I came here to teach but ended up learning more. In fact, there were times where I wonder whether my talks were even relevant to their context. This was not just personal insecurity, though there was probably some of it , but it came from accepting that the assumptions that I operate under do not necessarily hold here. In many ways, I found a community where technological change was not as voracious as I have witnessed in the US. Even if many of these AI breakthroughs come to pass, they may not necessarily upend the social order there as it will in my own community. This is not to say that they will be immune from it. Just to realize that technology adoption is not as inevitable as we make it to be. The issue is not just whether something is technically possible but whether people will openly adopt it.

From what I saw, smart phones has become a integral part of their lives. Yet, in many other areas, the way they study, work, eat and relate to each other has remained unchanged. That is not a sign of being “backward” but of resistance. Caratinga show that there isn’t only one way to integrate technology into the fabric of a society. This realization led me reflect on how I can live a life, in a techno-dominant society, that is more in tune with my humanity and of those around me. That is the question I take home with me, hoping to not let the lessons I learned here go into oblivion.

AI Theology In Brazil – Part 1: A Personal Address

That’s me getting ready to kick the soccer ball with my dad.

How do I encapsulate 2 intense weeks in a short summary? How can I do so by providing enough detail to take the reader with me but also without making this a long drawn-out memoir? Hard task but one worth engaging in. In the previous blog, I gave my overall reflections on Brazil but did not go much in detail on what happened in my time there. This is what I will attempt to do in the following series of blogs. Here is the first installment.

First, it is important to disclose how this trip came about. For those who do not know me, I was born in Brazil and lived there until I was 15. My parents and my sister still live there. Since I had not been there since 2015, I thought it was about time to go back even if I could not bring my whole family with me. As I discussed my visit with my dad, he suggested I give some talks on Artificial Intelligence to the seminary and university he is involved in. It is a growing institution, founded by my grandfather, situated in a small town in Brazil’s interior. Because my visit, they organized a theology forum on the topic of Artificial Intelligence which consisted of 4 events:

Sunday School in a Presbiterian church entitled: “How to transmit our faith to our kids in a technological age”
A lecture open to the public in the university entitled “How Artificial Intelligence is changing relationships, professions and religion”
A talk with a group of pastors in the city entitled “Artificial Intelligence: How do we receive it and use it in our communities”
An open debate with professors in the University about “Artificial Intelligence and Post-Modernity.”

Phew, clearly this vacation turned out to be quite some work but very gratifying. Since I had little time to prepare prior to flying to Brazil, I spent a my first few days there gathering material for the talks and discussing the topic with friends and family. I had a lot to say on the topic but I wanted to contextualize it to the local reality. Attitudes and beliefs toward technology can vary widely depending on the context.

For example, it was illuminating to learn that while most of my audience did not have a computer at home, almost all of them had smart phones. Most were not familiar with terms like “machine learning” or “data science” but could see that in action when they typed a letter to send a text to a friend. I also learned that Whatsapp was the application of choice even more used than email in some cases. To my surprise, the town had Uber service even as they still had newstands in their main square. Wifi was widely available as well as small mom and pop stores that I visited while I was a kid. No Amazon and Wall-Mart nearby leaving most of commerce to local businesses. I witnessed The old and new living side-by-side in an interesting mixture. I learned of people who harvested coffee in the morning but looked up answers in google at night to help their kids to do homework.

How then should I speak of a disruptive technology in an environment where technological change was so uneven? It was important to keep my assumptions in check.

The first talk in the church inaugurated my time in Caratinga on a personal note. I was there in the church my parents married and also the one where my grandparents and some uncles had been buried. I was there to speak first as a father and husband, not as a data scientist. I started by using an analogy. I showed them first on a screen a typewriter and then a 3-D printer. While most were familiar with the first, few could recognize the latter. There lied the challenge of sharing our faith with our kids. It felt as if we were teaching faith like typewriting in a world of 3-D printers. That is, our teaching carried assumptions from bygone era, failing to address the needs, fears and questions of our time. That did not mean we had to use more technological means for sharing our faith, but it required different approaches.

I shared from my heart that in a world of noise and fast technological change, it is crucial we teach our kids the gift of silence. Furthermore, in a world of multiplying screens, nothing speak louder than a loving gaze, a warm embrace and words of affirmation. Only when we practice those, can we even begin to transmit our faith to the next generation. If our faith reflects a God of love, the best way to introduce God is through loving action.

I believe this applies not just to a small town in the interior of Brazil but it is indeed a message of global relevance. In a world of instant digital connections, physically visiting different places still matters . The learning I got being there for two weeks could not be assimilated through reading or VR. If anything, physical presence will only become more impactful than before.

Therefore, let’s cherish every chance we get to see, touch and embrace our loved ones.

AI Theology Goes to Brazil: Initial Reflections on my trip

Contemplating Bom Será Falls in Caratinga, MG Brazil / Contemplando a cachoeira do Bom Será em Caratinga, MG

The way there was long! It took more than 28 hours in all, one sleepless night on the plane, two connections and hundreds of curves on winding roads until I reached my parents’ home. All the effort was worth it! The sound of the waterfall, the cozy house and the my parents’s warmth reminded me that I was returning to a familiar place. Being there allowed me to recuperate and prepare for the marathon of talks scheduled for the following week.

The first days consisted mostly of spending time with a sister and her husband, nephews, uncles and cousins. There is always that initial strangeness when re-connecting with others we have not seen for so long. At first we are reminded that we live in parallel realities of different customs, values and habits. However, there are also memories of joint experiences that show how we are deeply related despite distance and time. Visiting family and old friends often brings a mix of nostalgia, awkwardness, joy and anxiety.

Beyond connecting with family I hoped to witness examples in Brazil that gave me hope. It is very easy to see and focus on what is wrong and what needs to be changed. But I wanted to find reasons to be grateful and proud of our country. I was looking for points of light even in a sea of darkness.

Luckily, this trip did not disappoint. First I was impressed with my meals. Every lunch and dinner was a mixture of local fruits and vegetables and home made products. In an increasingly globalized world, nothing is more precious than local taste. Not only is it healthier as it promotes a greater connection with the land, and what a land!

I had forgotten the beautiful hills of these Minas Gerais. In the car trip, in the sites and even in the cities, you can see spacious pastures, closed forest and spectacular landscapes. The highlight was to contemplate the powerful waterfall of the Bom Será, a paradise found in the middle of a valley surrounded by closed forest. Sitting on its edge, listening to its noise and feeling the steady moist breeze from its waters was a spiritual experience – a multi-sensory reflection of the Creator’s beauty.

Finally, I was impressed with the existing social capital in Caratinga. In a world marked by isolation and loneliness, it is refreshing to visit a place where people talk to each other on the street without ceremony. A place of deep, intertwined relationships for generations. Seeing that was a lesson in humanity and spiritual wealth.

I came to talk about how technology is transforming the world but ended up getting a lesson on how human warmth builds community. While technologies like AI have much to offer to a place like Caratinga, it should not come at the cost of what they have already built there. My prayer is that my visit sparked conversations that can help further strengthen the existing social capital already there.

Later this week, I’ll be publishing a more detailed summary of my time and talks there. For now, I leave you with this picture that only offers a glimpse of the natural beauty of Minas.

Standing with my cousin Felipe in the Bom Será water fall.

AI Future: Technology And The Direction of Cosmic History

One of the biggest casualties of Western subject-based knowledge is the separation between Science and Humanities. Because of this rift, Science became abstracted from human affairs and Humanities disconnected from the natural world. This did not happen by accident but came as a result from the combination of specialization and human limitation. As each field expanded, it became humanly impossible to learn about it in conjunction with others. Yet, what specialization added by uncovering complexity it hurt by promoting fragmentation. If academia is to serve society again, then it must find ways to train holistic scholars who are both competent in their fields while also able to relate their field of knowledge to other areas.

A recent attempt to integrate the two is an effort called Big History. This teaching philosophy, idealized by historian David Christian and recently funded by the Gates Foundation, seeks to connect Humanities with Science by looking at history in its totality. That is, from the beginning of the cosmos to the emergence of human history. The field of History would most often limit itself to human civilization having little interest in what preceded it. That was left to natural sciences with little connection between the two.

While I applaud such integrative effort, I must point out that David Christian is not he first one to attempt such holistic view. Religious texts have been doing that for centuries. The Hebrew Bible, for example, wades into natural history territory in its first chapters of Genesis. Other religious texts of the time also contained creation stories that meant to explain the perennial question of how it all began. Certainly, scientific discoveries of the recent centuries have complicated these narratives. Yet, the main point here is to locate an attempt such as Big History in the persisting human need for a holistic story. We long for an integrated view of the world separating into different subjects will not help us get there.

Where Did We Come From?

For centuries we looked at Cosmic History through a religious lens. Cultures developed their own view of the origins of the world. This was not only a way to understand beginnings but also its meaning and implications for how to live together in society, functioning as a regulating standard for all members of that society.

In the West, this perspective began to be challenged by the the theory of evolution and with the rise of modern natural sciences. While this approach uncovered new findings, it abstracted the question of meaning from the quest for knowledge. The scientific endeavor became obsessed with tracing the origins of existing natural processes with little regard for questions of “why?” and “what for?”.

Such predicament forced us to operate with hybrid brains. For questions of how, we turn to science (often associated with the left side of the brain), for questions of meaning we turn to religion, art and philosophy (often associated with the right side). As long as no attempt to relate the two were made, life could go on.

In religion, and more specifically in Western Christianity, the dominant religious response was rejecting evolution and its implications. This response did not entail in a wholesale rejection of science, but removing it from the areas that contradicted traditional religious views. This solution was made possible by a separation between the natural and the supernatural. The natural, the realm of humanity, could still be run by the pre-suppositions of science and technology. Yet, in the realm of the supernatural, where ultimate meaning lies for believers, religious worldview ran unchallenged.

In science, the reigning philosophy is naturalism. That is, we can only understand and trace back the processes that gave way to the world we live in. This “objective” quest has no room for questions of meaning. The universe simply is and the only knowledge that matters is the one that can be quantified or verified by scientific experimentation. In essence, the naturalist view does not dispute the natural and supernatural divide. It is simply not interested in the latter.

Clearly these responses have run into tremendous difficulties in a multi-cultural world. Its main loss, however, was the original unified view of reality that pre-modern creation stories provided.

A New Path For Cosmic History

In The New Cosmic History, Theologian John Haught forges a path aiming to transcends the natural vs supernatural divide by looking at cosmic history as a way to engage and also challenge both science and religion. Informed by scientific discovery that describe an evolving universe and holding tight to the religious yearning for justice, the theologian proposes an anticipatory view of Cosmic history. It incorporates the development of life through billions of year but it gives it a future goal. Haught sees the emergence of religion in the axial age (800-300 BC) as a precursor of what is to come. By doing so, John Haugth flips the natural-supernatural divide into a time continuum. God is not out there in a supernatural realm but in the future. Religion, birthed as hope in the human consciousness, points to a reality that evolution will eventually leads us to.

Haught calls this view of Cosmic history, anticipatory. It moves the locus of meaning away from quantifiable natural processes and from supernatural conceptions and places it in time dimension. The yearning for rightness present in all religious is not simply a hope but the very direction of Cosmic History. In a sense, religion is the universe whispering to us: “everything will be ok at the end.”

While heavily influenced by Pierre Teilhard de Chardin’s natural theology, this perspective also shows echoes of Molmann’s hope theology and Pannenberg revelation as history view. Yet, it adds to these thinkers by presenting it within the context of a science-informed Cosmic History. By doing so, it emphasizes that the development of religion was indeed a revolutionary step in the history of the cosmos, not only of humanity. It is so, not because of what it is but to the future that it points to. In a Christian perspective, Haught’s view reinforces that idea that truth is eschatological – an unfolding that will only be fully understood at the end when God renews the earth.

Implications for Technology

For the purpose of this blog, I want to correlate Haught’s anticipatory view of Cosmic History to an understanding of technology. First, it is important to note that discussions of technology tend to fall in into discipline-based mode of knowledge of natural sciences most often done with little correlation to human experience. The fragmented foundation in which current technology was developed yields a byproduct misaligned with human flourishing. Hence re-visiting this foundation and replacing with a holistic view of reality can go along way to repair this disconnection.

Second, Haught’s dispelling of the natural/supernatural divide also helps address another divide in the topic of technology. That is, the natural/artificial divide. The same dualistic thinking that encouraged the natural/supernatural divide is also behind our tendency to divide the natural from the artificial. Usually, the connotation is that natural is pristine and superior to the artificial which is often seen as a poor approximation of nature. An alternative view would place technology in a continuum with nature as opposed to another category of its own. This would not only help humanity back to nature but also allow technology find its purpose in flourishing.

These two insights opens the path for a new way of re-imagining our relationship with technology and in shaping its future. Can technology be part of the renewal of the earth prophesied by religion? If so, then we have a lot of work to do for certainly what we see today is underwhelming, only an evolutionary stage in the way of becoming something beautiful and true.

Reframing: Moving Technology from Oppression to Liberation

In my last blog, I explored Philip Hefner’s theory of “Created Co-Creators” to set a foundation for a theology of technological hope. In this blog, I want to flesh out more what it means to shape and re-direct the ethos of technology using Moltman’s cycle of oppression and liberation. This framework provides a critical lens through which we can evaluate the aims, impact and implications of technology while also setting a blueprint for an alternative. If technology is to be the means of liberation then it must aspire for more than the endless accumulation of gadgets.

A Theology of Liberations

In Moltmann’s seminal work, The Crucified God, the theologian works out the political implications of a theology of the cross. In short, he concludes that the event of the Christ crucifixion challenges the very structure of political power. If Christ was killed as a condemned political prisoner, this reality in turn challenges the legitimacy of all political power henceforth. What that means, in practice, is that the Christian community should never align itself with those in power but instead with the oppressed, persecuted and marginalized.

The kingdom of God proclaims a re-doing of human society, challenging existing structures of political oppression and pointing humanity to new ways of living together. In essence, the message of the gospel is one where humans choose life over death, supporting new ways that breed flourishing over and against existing systems that perpetuate death.

Concretely, Moltmann talks about 5 cycles of oppression* that perpetuate themselves in societies:

Poverty and destitution through economic deprivation
Political oppression where one group subjugates another
Cultural and racial alienation where minority groups identity is undermined by ruling cultures
Ecological destruction where economic development happens at the expense of natural ecosystems.
Nihilism where people no longer find meaning in their lives.

To counteract these cycles, Moltmann speaks of 5 cycles of liberation that the Christian community should engage in. I took some liberty here to update and revise some of these concepts to a 21st century reality:

Fostering economic justice that creates (what capitalism does best) and distributes (what socialism does best) wealth so ALL have the basics for living (health, food, clothing and shelter).
Distributing political power and responsibility through all sectors of society. This is not just about voting rights but a situation where government listens to the populace and people take responsibility for their communities.
Integrating society with diversity where unity happens in the recognition and celebration of difference.
Cultivating peace with nature through sustainability, where human creation respects, preserves and perpetuates God’s creation.
Cultivating meaningful living through communities that enrich, nourish and develop the individual.

Moltmann’s categories presented here offer a helpful structure to start speaking of liberation in concrete terms. He touches on a wide variety of issues such as economics, politics, culture and identity. In doing so, he expands our understanding of liberation opening way for creative thinking in pursuing wholeness in all these areas.

What is missing from these categories, however, is a deeper understanding of how technology can affect, reinforce or reshape these issues which is what I turn to now.

Liberation and Technology

First, it is worth noting that technology already plays prominent role in all 5 areas described above. Technological breakthroughs have created wealth (not always distribute it) and alleviated poverty all over the world. As medicine, goods and services become more available because of technology, economic scarcity gives away to abundance. Wishful thinking? Just consider how technologies like indoor plumbing, heating and cooling, computation, manufacturing have changed the earth in the last century. Life expectancy and quality improved through these gifts of ingenuity. It is true that since these good have been delivered through unequal systems they also have not benefited all equally. However, the overall results is undeniable: people live longer today than they did fifty or even twenty years ago.

In the area of political freedom and integration with diversity the impact of technology is mixed. Social media platforms were critical in the mobilization of mass protests in Arab spring. It is likely they would have not happen without it. Yet, the improvement of biometric technology also empowers authoritarian governments to tighten their control on their people. Mobile payments have empowered the poor in remote villages of Africa all the while the bot-aided proliferation of fake news threatens the integrity of democracies all over the world. The rise in connectivity have emboldened previous marginalized groups to find community while also empowering the fringe hate groups that seek to eliminate them.

Technology has also been pivotal in the area of sustainability while also a key culprit in in environmental destruction. The advance of clean energy technologies shows how we can both meet energy needs while also preserving earth’s resources for future generations. Even so, the legacy of dirty technologies from the 20th century continue to pollute our air and water. The choice is not between whether to use technology or not but how to harness it in ways that cultivate renewal. This path is most often more complex and costly in the short run which often gives way to the temptation of cheaper but more destructive methods.

The hardest one to evaluate is how technology has impacted the cultivation of a meaningful life. This probably where it is most lacking. For all the wealth and convenience it has brought humanity, many wonder whether we are qualitatively better off. Through technology, humanity has conquered its fear of nature yet done little to solve the struggles of our soul. If technology is to play a role in this dimension, then it must be radically re-configured. Such predicament calls for the wisdom to realize the limits of technological advance and where it cannot benefit humanity. This is by far, our most daunting task.

Refle(A)ction

Technology is not just the stuff we make but a reflection of the systems that produce it. Whether technology can empower liberation or reinforce oppression depends not only in its uses but it starts by recognizing its role and ethos. As long as we bracket technology out of the discussion we will never truly experience its power to liberate. Thus, the first step to move technology towards liberation is awareness and reflection. Hence, what I propose is that we stop this bracketing and start looking at technology within the context of political, social, economic and ethical dimensions.

We can start this journey through questions like what is the driving force of technological advancement in our time? Where has it been effective in addressing true human need and where has it not? How can we harness, re-direct and re-purpose it towards life flourishing aims? Where do we need less and where do need more? How can we ensure that its benefits are spread out more equitably over all humanity?

Yet, this first move will not be complete if such reflection stays at the evaluation stage. Instead, it must also foster a new way of doing and using technology. Where is that already happening and how can we replicate these examples? This is the topic of my next blog.

*For more detail consult pages 480-490.

A Theology of Technological Hope: Created to Create

The previous three blogs were setting the stage for what I want to discuss here. I traced the beginnings of Moltmann’s theology of hope, discussed the development of liberation theology and then made the case for why technology is the main driving force of change of our time. In this part, I want to build on this point to show the contours of a theology of technological hope. That is, what does it mean to imagine liberation through technology? In order to get there, we must first re-formulate the relationship between God, humans and creation.

Created to Create

In the previous blog, I mentioned that technology is a lot more than gadgets but any material extension of ourselves into objects to fulfill a task. Observing this undeniable feature of humanity leads us to conclude that to be human is to be creative. While creativity is often associated with art, in technology, creativity is about solving problems or overcoming limitations. There is an innate drive, whether facilitated or not through our circumstances, to build our way out of challenging environments.

Philipe Hefner’s theory of “created co-creators” is illuminating in this discussion.* It is impossible to do justice to this topic in a short blog, but I will attempt to highlight the main points of the theory as a foundation for a theology of technological hope.

If you are scanning through this, I recommend you slowdown. Even a short version of the theory will only make sense as a unit which requires careful attention.

Let me try to put forth an abbreviated bullet point version of the theory

Humans are created, that is placed in an ecosystem with a genetic makeup.
Within these conditions, Humans are free. This is not a guarantee but a choice. I God who truly loves freedom would not only create free humans but also create humans who want to be free.
In a Technological Civilization as we live today, this freedom has become all the more important as it allows humans to truly influence the destiny of the planet.
Humanity’s purpose is to use technology to work with God in the continual work of creation for the preservation and flourishing of life in the biosphere.
This requires a re-thinking of God’s purpose and our future. Instead of envisioning a super-natural divine compensation, we must believe that because God not just created but continues to create on earth, God has a vested interest in the flourishing of the planet.

From Coping to Thriving

For the purpose of this blog, I want to highlight his theory’s most astounding implication to Christian mission. That is:

The work of God’s people on earth is not about helping people cope with suffering by giving them a promise of a future divine justice in a different realm. The work of God’s people on earth is about embodying wholeness/holiness HERE and NOW, believing that God IS currently working (creating) to make the earth WHOLE.

This is what is truly revolutionary and presents the foundation for a theology of technological hope. In a technological society, Christians should take their technological and scientific work, not as secondary to ministry but as the very place where we co-create with the creator. God continues to work on the Earth and we join God’s work by co-creating. As we co-create we fulfill our purpose as free humans who seek to advance the biosphere to a sustainable future. We are called to thrive along with creation rather than coping with its fallen state.

By this I don’t mean that only technologists or scientists are doing God’s work. Certainly, co-creating with God is not limited to bytes and test tubes. Yet, framing this type of work this way gives it a whole new meaning. It also forces us to re-think how technology is done. What is the purpose of doing technology? How does it impact our biosphere? How can it be re-directed towards human flourishing?

As we start asking these questions, the first step is to observe and analyze closely how technology is done today, especially in the form of technocapitalism. What is its philosophy and aims? How is it impacting our biosphere? This is the topic of my next blog.

*For those interested in digging deeper into his work, I recommend “The Human Factor: Evolution, Culture and Religion.” Pgs 264-265 provide a complete summary for the theory.

Theology of Hope Moves South – Latin American Liberation

Moltmann’s theology of hope inspired theologians and clergy globally. In this blog, I explore the emergence of liberation theology.

In this process, the Crucified God became a bridge that revealed a new face of the cross. Jesus was killed as a political prisoner, challenging the political forces of the day, denouncing injustice and standing with the marginalized. Influenced by a Marxist view of history, these priests found in the cross an archetype for working for social justice. The gospel incarnated into the Latin American context as a message of liberation from inequality and racism.

In a previous blog, I introduced Moltmann’s theology of hope and its historical context. In this blog, I will discuss one of its most well-known offshoots, namely, liberation theology. While liberation theology had other influences and has recently expanded into a wide array of theologies, Moltmann’s influence was crucial in its beginning. Here is how the two are inter-connected.

The picture above encapsulates both what liberation theology is and its connection with Moltmann’s theology of hope. On November 16, 1989, Juan Ramon Moreno, Spanish-Salvadoran priest and Jesuit was murdered by Salvadoran government forces for denouncing human right violations in the country. While the soldiers carried his corpse to a room, his body hit a book in a shelf throwing it to the ground, staining it with his blood. This was Father Moreno’s last prophetic act. The book (pictured above) was a Spanish translation of Moltmann’s work “The Crucified God”, part of Moreno’s library and most certainly an important influence in his thought and work as an activist Jesuit priest.

Solidarity with the Poor

One of the key ideas of “the Crucified God” is that God suffered with Christ on the cross. This idea was controversial because it contradicted the understanding of God’s impassibility. In classical theism, God could not suffer because that would suggest vulnerability from an all-powerful being. Yet, even more scandalous was the implication of this idea. Moltmann’s cruciform theology was calling the church to retreat from identifying with the political power of Western culture and instead, align itself with the oppressed. The argument goes as follows: because Jesus identified with the oppressed in the cross and God suffered with him, Christians are called to identify and suffer with those in the margins.

Moltmann’s theological seed of the Crucified God would blossom into a full-blown theology of solidarity with the poor in Latin American soil. It emerged as Latin American Catholic priests reflected on the plight of the poor they were serving in the late 60’s. As they worked to alleviate poverty, they started looking for the roots that created and sustained structural misery for most in the continent. How could they work not only to feed the poor but also to empower them to feed themselves?

Liberation theologians would take the Crucified God a step further. Their innovation was, following the political tenor of Jesus original historical context, to conclude that God had a preference for the poor. This controversial conclusion would both align liberation practitioners with revolutionary movements and be at odds with right-wing military dictatorships and, at times, the Vatican itself. In short, it became a potent political theology speaking truth to power but also legitimizing violent guerilla movements and oppressive leftist regimes.

Liberation Theology’s Impact

Over fifty years after its initial formulation, liberation theology’s (LT) legacy is mixed. On the positive side, LT became a vital theological dialogue partner that no modern theologian could ignore. While many, both in the Protestant and Catholic side, would reject its main claims, they always felt obliged to respond to its challenge. In seminaries all over the world, the writings of Gutierrez, Sobrino and Boff continue to inspire and spark debate. Their influence has become even more prominent with the installation of an Argentine Pope. Francis, while not a liberation theologian per se, certainly has moved concern with the poor to the center of the church’s attention.

Yet, this wide-spread influence does not compare with the witness of its martyrs. The life and story of Archbishop Oscar Romero in Guatemala, Sister Dorothy Stang in Brazil and Juan Ramon Moreno in El Salvador are holy examples of those who took up the cause of the oppressed with their blood. Their example, faith and resolve shall never be forgotten. They belong to the company of the saints of the church that came before them.

Beyond that, LT never took hold in the overall church practice in Latin America. Apart from the still existing base communities, the theology did not make its way into Catholic masses. Furthermore, it did not cross into the Latin American Protestantism, the fastest-growing Christian movement of the last century. In the Latin American church a saying goes that “Liberation theology opted for the poor but the poor opted for Pentecostalism.”

In many aspects, Pentecostalism is the anti-thesis of LT. It seeks instead to align itself with the rich and focus on heavenly matters as opposed to political change. If anything, Pentecostal Christians have often politically aligned with the reactive political forces, the very ones LT sought to overturn. Ironically, the Christian movement has been split into both defending and criticizing Capitalism in the region. This is an unfortunate development as both LT and Pentecostalism have much to learn from each other.

Reformulating Hope and Liberation

In spite of producing admirable martyrs, the power and promise of liberation theology has not materialized in its native land. Yet, its promise as a hope theology, grounded in solidarity with the poor rings even more relevant now than it did in the last century.

The revolutionary spirit of the 60’s relied on the assumption that the most effective way to change society was through political means. As a result, democracies have sprung up all over the world and freedom has increased. Yet, most of these projects are showing signs of decay as the popular vote starts turning them back to authoritarianism. As democracies fail to solve persistent social-economic problems, people start looking for leaders who promise simple solutions to complex problems. Without diminishing the importance of these social movements, maybe the problem was in its initial assumption. Yet, if politics is not the way, what is it then?

As my previous blog title suggests, what if the time has come to re-formulate a theology of hope within a technological context? What if the promise of eschatological hope will not materialize through political action but technological creativity? What if the most consequential force for liberating the oppressed is not policy but social technologies? This is what I want to explore in the next part.

A Theology of Hope in a Technological Age – Introduction

This blogs starts a series on re-visiting a theology of hope in a technological age. For full transparency, I write this as my reflection on the topic progresses. I do this on purpose, in the hope that this reflection is not limited to an isolated individual’s musings but instead can open the way for a dialogue with others. Theology is done best when done in community. In an age of instant global communication, the possibilities for dialogue widen and allow for an in-time collaboration that was simply not possible before. Hence, I invite the reader to enter this not as a passive receiver of information but instead an active participant in this conversation. Feel free to post comments or email me directly through the contact form in the site.

In this first blog, I want to discuss the emergence of a theology of hope in the middle of the last century looking at its most prominent proponent -German theologian Jurgen Moltmann. His seminal work Theologie der Hoffnung [Theology of Hope] in the mid 1960’s would initiate a revolution in academic theology that reverberated through decades to come. Here is how it started.

The Emergence of a Theology of Hope

Each theology engages a particular set of questions which are considered to be crucial to the context of the theologian. To do theology is precisely that: to observe the world and listen to its most perennial questions. Then, in prayerful mediation, under the guidance of the Spirit and in dialogue with their community, to seek out answers emerging from the Christian tradition and practices.

Jurgen Moltmann’s theology emerges from the Post-war experience as the world was taking stock of the horrific atrocities executed by the European powers. One of the questions his world was asking was how could there be a good God in a world where Auchwitz happens? Even seventy years later, this question rings in Western ears challenging the European Christendom projects of the previous centuries. If Christian societies were capable of such cruelty and destruction, what is even the point of upholding the Christian religion as the foundation of our political structures? Furthermore, is Christianity even relevant for individuals in a post-war age or does it belong to the history books? The crisis cast both existential (personal) as corporate (political) doubts on an European Christian identity.

A Passionate/Suffering God

A temptation, then and now, is to relegate religious expression to a privatized individualistic piety. That is, all that matters is me, Jesus and my salvation. As long as my passport to heaven is stamped, I don’t need to engage with worldly affairs. The world is confusing enough and meaningless, let me endure its reality in the weeks and escape to heavenly dreams on the weekend.

Moltmann resists this temptation by taking seriously the suffering in the world. If Christianity is to have a voice in the public square (and in our lives), it must actively engage with the questions people and societies are asking. If our faith inadequately addresses the crisis of our time, then it is no longer useful or pertinent to our time.

He starts by reframing the problem. In one of his shortest books, Open Church, Moltmann sees apathy as the biggest curse of our age:

[Our] one-sided orientation towards accomplishment and success make us melancholic and insensitive. We become incapable of love and incapable of sorrow. We no longer have tears, and we smile only because we are supposed to keep on smiling…We become apathetic, still alive but surely and slowly dying inwardly. (pg 23)

Theology of hope starts and ends with a passionate God. It is important here to recover the original meaning of the word passion. It is not just about energy and zeal but also about suffering. The best example is the Passion of Christ, where we see both an unyielding zeal as well as the resulting suffering Christ goes through. A passionate God means one that is moved by the world suffering, cries with them but also moves to action to answer the cries of humanity.

The End is the Beginning

If every theology has a starting point, theology of hope begins with the end. This is what theologians call an eschatological approach. Eschatology is the study of the last things which has come to mean many different things. Recently, because of evangelical pop culture, eschatology has sadly become synonymous with exhaustive speculation about the end of the world. That is not what Moltmann means by it.

Instead, he is following New Testament scholarship in recovering the centrality of the eschatological hope in the Early church. That is, the fact that the apostles and early Christians believed in an actual installation of God’s kingdom on earth. They believed it to be an imminent event. The point of it was not the destruction of the world but the future vindication of God’s people in view of their present political oppression. Hence, the gospel message, in the First and still in the Twenty-First century, has political implications.

By doing so, Moltmann is joining a chorus of theologians, scholars and some clergy in bringing eschatology from the supernatural realm to the natural world. With time and heavy influence from Greek philosophy, eschatology became focused on the after-life. Instead, they want to correct this notion so that Christians can focus more on the here and now.

Hence, this recovery the eschatological character of early Christianity should translate into present action. While grounded in God’s action, it raises the question of how to live today in a way the reflects that future reality. In short, how do we bring the future liberation of God’s people into the present?

Inspired on Moltmann’s writing, the early 70’s would see the emergence of a Latin American, Catholic version later known as liberation theology. If eschatology is about a political reality, then what would that look like in the context of Latin American poor? This is the topic of part 2.

Re-Thinking Worship: Seeing Liturgy as Technology

Can the technical and the religious intersect? In this blog I want to explore what happens when we look at liturgy (the order of Christian rituals) as technology. What kind of new insights can this perspective provide?

A Personal Struggle

For a few years now, my family has struggled to plug into a church. Part of that is the phase of our lives with small children. Getting three kids ready make any outings an elaborate event! Yet, I know there is more to it. This external struggle only reflects what is happening internally with me and my wife. After growing up as active members in Christian communities we find ourselves struggling to find a spiritual home (in the way we traditionally understood it). Church is no longer an anchoring community but instead a trigger for painful memories. Going to church does not give meaning to our lives as it used to even as we still hold on to the faith it preaches.

This perception is also spilling over to our kids. Any time I mention to my two older girls (8 and 6) about going to church, protest follows. I guess they learned early to be Protestants!

When I probe further, they say that that they do not get much out of it. They don’t see the point dressing up in a Sunday morning to sit with other kids they barely know to hear stories they already know. As a father, my knee-jerk reaction is to contest these impressions, trying to affirm the slow work of grace that happens in the continual exposure to Christian rituals. Yet, the message is not getting through. Often time, I find myself being the only one at home who sees value in going to church on a Sunday morning.

This situation grieves my heart. For all its failures, I still believe in the institutional church. I also see the regular gathering of believers as an essential part of spiritual formation. Therefore, my children’s aversion to church makes me feel like I failed. I know that ultimately they will have to choose the path they need to follow. This is not under my control. Yet, I hope that by then they would have at least as much exposure as I had to the faith. Doing that without regularly participating in a Christian community is very difficult.

A Shift in Perspective

Pondering on this predicament, I wanted to understand why my view of church was so different from that of my kids. There are many differences between our upbringings in culture, language, age and technology. What I realized, however, is that through practice and study, I was encouraged and trained to see the grandeur of God in the life of the church. This has come to me through many avenues. One of them was music and the experience of worship. Another was through listening to preachers and Sunday School teachers. Additionally, I have had multiple personal mystical experiences, deeply personal and emotionally rich, that affirmed the realities being spoken in church. Through study, my vision of the body of Christ expanded beyond a group of a few hundred whom I join on a weekly basis to an unbroken communion of people affirming this faith over time in all continents of the earth. The latter, is one of the main reasons why I still believe in the institution.

The problem is that I expected my young children to simply get all that by simply dropping them off in a nursery or Sunday school class on a weekly basis. This becomes even more complicated when they are bombarded from multiple influences throughout the week that claim their attention. They are not growing up in the same world I was. A new context require different measures.

In view of this realization, I decided to take upon myself the responsibility to pass on the faith, in the best way I can, directly to my children. Relying on others to do is not working. Maybe then, they will come to yearn for gathering with other Christians on a weekly basis. That theological degree may finally come in handy after all!

Liturgy as Technology

As I considered ways to pass on the Christian faith to my children, I wondered whether I could see liturgy as technology.

To level set, liturgy means the order and content of how Christian services are conducted. It it encompasses prayers, music, reading, taking communion (or the Eucharist), baptism, etc. Liturgy is what people do when they come together for worship, hence, the “work of the people.” When ministers prepare for a Sunday service, they consider what the experience communicates. It goes beyond words but can include sounds, aromas and visuals. All these elements shape, direct and communicate through the worship experience. Over time, good liturgy changes those who regularly participate in it. There is not such thing as a liturgical church because every congregation follows a liturgy. Some are implied rather than explicitly stated.

What is the connection with technology? If technology is applied science to solve a problem, liturgy is applied theology to form character. In other words, it is a means, albeit important, to foster divine encounters. These encounters, re-order desires, transform souls and develop faith. When working properly, they have the power to make us better people.

If we are willing to accept this analogy, I wonder if the problem that my kids see no relevance in church is a technical rather than a spiritual one. I wonder if the liturgy is inadequate to do the work at their level of understanding. By that, I don’t mean that they need to experience church through more advanced technological means. The idea is not to create children’s VR church! It is much deeper than that. It is examining the elements that are not working properly and test alternatives that work better.

Can I pass on a faith that will stick over time? Will the liturgy, like a technology, work properly towards that goal? How effective are our liturgies in the goal of spiritual formation?

What do you think?

Tag: technology