Human Sacrifice and the Christian Carnival

This week's Christian Carnival is up at Rodney Olsen's blog. It includes my post on Literalism and the Ascension along with various and sundry others.

In particular, note Henry Neufeld's post on the many meanings of sacrifice, to which I would add the complication that our understanding of legitimate sacrifice has itself changed (thankfully!), and did so even within the ancient world. For instance, I've lately been enjoying an excellent series of lectures on Ancient Greek Literature. The one I listened to on my drive home last night discussed Agamemnon, who sacrificed his daughter Iphigeneia at the beginning of the Trojan War, described with great pathos (and sickening detail) in the first part of Aeschylus' Oresteia trilogy. A similar story, of course, appears in Judges 11, which describes with like pathos (though none of the gory details) Jephthah's sacrifice of his own daughter after a war with the Ammonites.

But the interesting this about both stories is how they indicate a shifting view of human sacrifice from the period described to the one in which the story is told. While Agamemnon and Jephthah apparently considered human sacrifice as an acceptable means of earning the god's favor, those telling their stories saw things quite differently, taking pains to build up sympathy for the victim. These, I think, can provide a model for our own reading of the more gruesome aspects of biblical history. Like Aeschylus and the unnamed author of Judges 11, we must tell these stories, not to excuse or encourage such acts, but precisely to reveal their tragedy. For we still live in a world that is willing to sacrifice its children (whether in the names of various gods, nationalities, or as a "choice"), and too often we are numb to its horror.

Quote - Bono on Financial Priorities

From here (via Looking Closer), Bono:

It’s extraordinary to me that the United States can find $700 billion to save Wall Street and the entire G8 can’t find $25 billion dollars to saved 25,000 children who die every day from preventable diseases.

Sex and Speeding Revisited

In my last post I made a comparison between speeding and promiscuous sex. Such a connection, however, leads to an obvious objection: Are not speeding laws—and by analogy moral proscriptions against promiscuity—fundamentally arbitrary? Well, no actually. Apart from a few draconian or libertine exceptions, most traffic laws are based on immutable physical principles which cannot be ignored without harm. You can try to take a hairpin turn at 100 miles per hour if you wish, but you are almost certain to crash. You can try to haul a trailer with an economy car, but you are liable to ruin both. You can try to cram 20 people into a pickup—you might even reach your destination safely—but if you do crash, a lot of people are going to die. The fact is, vehicles are built to serve specific purposes and can only safely operate within certain tolerances; to ignore this because “it’s my car and I can do what I want,” is to invite disaster, not just for ourselves but for many others as well.

The same is true of us as sexual beings. Just as certain uses of a car respect its design while others do not, certain uses of sex are appropriate to its design while others are inherently dangerous (and this is true whether the “design” in question derives from God or “the blind watchmaker,” or both). The figures given in the last post make clear that sex can go very wrong, and it is not hard to see when and why this happens. For even leaving aside the question of God’s intention for sexuality (though, if we are created beings, this question is vital), it is pretty obvious that the primary purposes of sex are procreation and pair-bonding. Though we all want to add another—pleasure—this is clearly a secondary purpose of sex that cannot legitimately be separated from the other two. Speaking evolutionarily, the pleasure of sex is meant to make us want to do it, precisely so that we will reproduce and pair-bond, for it is these two functions which ensure the survival of the species.

To seek to separate the pleasure of sex from these purposes is dangerous because it is not actually possible. Like trying to separate the thrill of speeding from the danger of car accidents and fuel costs, it is an unattainable goal which is used to excuse the risks involved. For try as we might to reduce the “risk,” pregnancy is virtually always a possibility when having sex, so to try and have it when you are not willing to accept that possibility is fundamentally irresponsible and often directly justifies abortion or abandonment. Similarly, to properly raise a child is a highly labor-intensive affair, which is trouble enough even for a loving couple, much less for one person to do alone. Nor is abortion a solution to this, for even leaving aside the moral question and (debatable) claims of psychological harm, abortion carries its own physical risks, including sterility or death. Finally, to have sex with multiple partners, even if not concurrently, opens one to the significant risk of getting and spreading STDs, which can themselves be not only painful but, at times, can lead to sterility or death.

In contrast, it is clear that permanent monogamy between two people who truly love each other and willingly embrace at least the possibility of children provides the best fit with the proper functions of sex. Monogamy almost completely eliminates the risk of STDs and ensures the most stable living situation for both the couple and any children they might have. It also teaches commitment, self-sacrifice and unconditional love, to name just a few examples. Thus, to separate sex from this context is risky at best, and at worst an invitation for disaster. Granted, not all abuses are as dangerous as others. Though “serial monogamy” is in various ways less stable and more risky than marriage, it at least maintains the connection between sex and committed relationship. Hooking up and prostitution, on the other hand, deny both primary functions of sex. If serial monogamy is like driving without a seat belt, those latter choices are comparable to driving drunk: You may get lucky and make it home in one piece, but many do not, and the life you take may not be your own.

And in point of fact, there’s no excuse for these behaviors. There are plenty of safer ways to get your thrills, and it’s simply a myth that we have some unalterable “need” for sex. I assure you, it is entirely possible to wait until marriage; I and millions of others have done so. Some people even go there who lives without sex and are not harmed by it, so there is no reason a person cannot go a few years. Don’t get me wrong, permanent abstinence is not nor should be the ideal for most people—just as cars are not made to be left in the garage—but to dismiss the risks and social consequences of casual sex because we are too impatient or want a thrill is no different than dismissing the risks of reckless driving because one’s commute is too long or the adrenaline rush too tempting.

So the next time someone suggests it’s “unreasonable” to expect people to be monogamous, why not try some safer alternative, like snow boarding, jet skiing or even sky-diving? They’ll give as much of a thrill as sex, and probably last longer as well.

Army Wives

For the last four years, my wife and I have lived within two miles of a large Naval Air Station. With most of our current friends in the Navy, then, we’ve had front row seats to the displacement and uncertainty that come with regular deployments and frequent moves. It’s not an easy life, and I have great respect for those accept it for their country, but I'm not sure I could do it myself. Perhaps that’s why I’ve become a fan of Army Wives, even though it plays on a channel (Lifetime) which I’ve never previously found interesting. Now in its second season (you can watch full episodes here), the show is a bit uneven, but it offers an engaging and sympathetic picture of military life. Following five army families struggling to live and love in a time of war, it explores all the usual relationship tensions you’d expect in a modern drama, but it retains a natural and lighthearted tone. Though it can get overly-sentimental at times, it's usually thoughtful (without being overly political) and includes a strong cast of genuinely likable characters, imperfect though they are (spoiler warning).

The first season included everything from adult friendship and teenage love, to unplanned pregnancy and adultery. It ended with various relationships in flux, three husbands leaving on a hasty deployment, and four of the “wives” trapped in their favorite bar where a disgruntled soldier, strapped with explosives, has come to confront his own unfaithful wife (a minor character, not one of the five). Picking up in the aftermath of this bombing, the second season has continued to explore the tensions and uncertainties in the lives of these five families as they try to find their way back to some semblance of normalcy. To tell the truth, the season premier was a bit awkward, by only revealing what happened at the bar slowly through flashbacks, but the three episodes since then have offered more interesting plot-lines, all of which emphasize the importance of love:

For instance, the youngest of the five wives (Roxy LeBlanc) selflessly invites the bar owner--a cantankerous woman named Betty (a civilian) who was already dying of cancer when her busines and home were destroyed--to stay with her while her husband is on deployment. A Lieutenant Colonel (Joan Burton) decides not to abort her unplanned (and decidedly inconvenient) pregnancy, choosing to forgive her husband Roland for cheating on her (he was deeply sorry) and working to restore their marriage. But perhaps the most interesting has been the story of Claudia Joy, whose teenage daughter was killed in the bombing. By the third episode of the season, called “The Messenger,” she is losing touch with everyone she loves. Standing outside her church where she has arrived late, she suddenly meets a mysterious elderly man named Henry, who is “visiting” the area. Unsure she wants to enter, Claudia Joy urges him to go in without her, but he replies “Going inside is not that important anyway; God’s out here too.” When she responds skeptically, he offers his condolences for her loss and wishes her a nice day, and she leaves without entering the church.

But he keeps turning up, that evening when she is sitting on her porch, the next morning when she is getting the mail, on her “date” with Roxy’s five year old son (who has a school-boy crush on her, and seems to be the only other person who can see Henry). Each time he draws the conversation around to her need for love: “Love is an amazing thing,” he says, “Can’t see it, can’t touch it, can’t smell it. Yet it’s there with us from the day we’re born.” Finally he turns up in her living room while she’s watching a movie late at night (hiding from her family, to whom she can't bear to speak):

Henry: Can we watch a comedy for a change? I need to laugh.
Claudia Joy: You’re not real; I’m not talking to you. Go away!
Henry : I told you, when you don’t want me here, I’ll leave.
Claudia Joy: I’m tired of these cryptic little sayings you use.
Henry: You’re angry.
Claudia Joy: Damn right, I’m angry. I wanted more, I wanted to see her graduate college. I wanted to help her buy a wedding dress. I wanted to hold her babies in my arms.
Henry: And you blame God.
Claudia Joy: Where was he, huh? You tell me that! Where the hell was God when my daughter was murdered?
Henry: Protecting Roland, and Denise, and you!
Claudia Joy gets up to leave the room.
Henry: It was Amanda’s time, nothing was gonna change that.
But Claudia Joy isn’t convinced. Turning away she mutters: No.
Henry: Death is a part of life. You can’t have one without the other.
Claudia Joy: It was too soon.
Henry: We all have our time, and it always comes. Until then, love is the best thing going. And there seems to be a lot of that around here. You just have to let it in.

The episode doesn't tell us who Henry really is (we later see him wave goodbye and then climb into a taxi), but in the end Claudia Joy takes his advice and begins the difficult process of opening up to her husband and (remaining) daughter, finding comfort and healing in their love and mutual grief. As I said, the show gets a bit overly-sentimental at times, but I do like this scene, not only because it explicitly brings up the question of God’s goodness in the face of tragedy (though, let's face it, “it was her time” really isn’t much of an answer), but also because it affirms that knowing “why?” may be less important than recognizing the essential role of love in our lives. In exploring how such love looks in a group of flawed and broken military families, Army Wives is in fact a refreshingly uplifting television show, and a welcome break from the reruns and game shows the major networks are running this summer.

"Disaster Fatigue"

In 2004, the South East Asia Tsunami killed around 225,000 people; Americans responded by donating 1.92 billion dollars in aid. In the last month, the cyclone in Myanmar (130,000 dead or missing) and the earthquake in China (60,000 dead or missing) have combined to kill nearly 200,000 people; Americans have responded by donating… 12.1 million dollars:

Charities know this as "donor fatigue," but it might be more accurately described as disaster fatigue — the sense that these events are never-ending, uncontrollable and overwhelming....

Compared with disasters like the Asian tsunami and Hurricane Katrina, those in China and Myanmar have generated just a trickle of aid. As of Friday, Americans had given about $12.1 million to charities for Myanmar, according to the Center on Philanthropy at Indiana University. The group said on Monday that it was too soon to count contributions to China....

This problem came up after the 2004 Asian tsunami, an event that brought an avalanche of $1.92 billion in charity from the United States, according to the Giving USA Foundation. Hurricane Katrina eight months later generated even more, $5.3 billion.

But then fatigue seemed to set in. The earthquake in Pakistan that killed nearly 80,000 people generated just $150 million from Americans. And the Guatemala mudslide shortly thereafter that killed at least 800 was virtually forgotten.

If one disaster can be galvanizing, several in a row can be paralyzing.

I don't want this to be a guilt trip, and I know money is tight for everyone right now, but please consider giving anything you can (for instance, through World Vision); we can do a lot better than this.

The Human Face of Abortion

I’m currently working on an article on the societal impact of contraception, for Salvo 6, and I’m particularly struck by the connection between the rise contraception and abortion and the long history of oppression and abuse of women, particularly poor and minority women (cf. Rickie Solinger’s Pregnancy and Power: A Shorty History of Reproductive Politics in America). Too often, those of us who oppose abortion on moral grounds fail to grasp, much less address, this tragic history, and ignore the real social struggles that still lead to abortion. Since long before Roe v. Wade, countless women have sought contraception and abortion because they saw them as their only defense against destitution or abuse. No amount of moral condemnation has changed this fact, for it only addresses the symptom without solving the root problem.

Yet the truth is that abortion is not a solution to this history of abuse and oppression; it is a short term “fix” that perpetuates it. This is well illustrated by a heartbreaking piece at The New University (HT: Mark Shea). It’s the story of a college student forced into abortion by just such circumstances – fears for her future, an abusive boyfriend and father, a mother who doesn’t understand – yet it doesn’t solve them for her, it only adds to them. For the real problem that needs solving is not the girl’s pregnancy, but the abusive system in which she feels trapped.

The New Atheism as Inadequate Theodicy

I just discovered Ryan Dueck's excellent blog Rumblings, and an article he wrote on "The New Atheism as Inadequate Theodicy". It's a bit long, but worth reading in full. Here's an excerpt:

The prominence of evil in the new atheism—evil attributed to God, his followers, and the hostile, indifferent planet he is claimed to have made—suggests that the issue is not, as it is often presented, “rational” atheism vs. “superstitious” religion. Rather, the issue is between rival theodicies. If religion is thought to be the root cause of much of the evil in the world, a worldview which urges its removal represents a kind of theodicy. Evil is identified as such, its causes are described, and a way forward is recommended. What is not provided is a plausible account of why human beings should have such a strong moral reaction to the nature of our environment in the first place.

The current instantiation of protest atheism, like similar kinds in the past, relies more heavily on the moral capital accumulated through several millennia of Christian influence than it cares to admit. As such, the theodicy offered by the new atheism, while demonstrating an admirable (even biblical!) degree of moral sensitivity, is, ultimately, inadequate.

Compassion and Coercion

The following is a slightly revised version of a post I wrote for the original, and now defunct, Signs of the Times. It was first posted in October 2005, shortly after Hurricane Katrina, and relates to my post from earlier today. Google Cache has a copy of the original, which is otherwise no longer available:

Matt Kaufman has written an interesting article at Boundless discussing our compassion in responding to tragedy, and the way it gets abused in politics. He argues that to politicize compassion is to destroy it, for real compassion comes from caring individuals, not government programs. He writes:

You can argue for some government programs on the grounds that they're necessary, and that no other alternatives will do: The argument may be wrong in many cases, but it's not inherently dishonest. You can't, however, seriously claim that any government programs are driven by compassion. Compassion, as I'm wont to point out, is voluntary by definition; coerced compassion is a contradiction in terms.

This is all true, of course. A forced gift is no gift at all. But perhaps Kaufman is a bit too hard on the role of government. We can complain all we want about how a government agency botched its response to this or that disaster, how it failed to protect such-and-such group of people, or how it wastes billions on bureaucracy. These are no doubt valid criticisms that should be addressed. But in spite of all those deficiencies, government programs can serve an important and sometimes unrecognized role.

The fact is, we individuals may have big hearts and we may be far more compassionate than any government agency ever could be, but we also have shorter memories. When a tragedy strikes, we admirably pinch our pockets and rush to help, but what about the rest of the time? Once the novelty of the situation wears off, few of us continue to give. Who among us are still giving aid to the tsunami survivors? Not me, I admit. Need doesn’t end when the news gets old, but our interest usually does.

This isn’t an indictment; it’s simply a fact of human nature. Our brains are wired to pay attention to what’s new, and our giving reflects that. That’s why even voluntary aid organizations suggest scheduling monthly payments – on our own, we forget. When World Vision takes 30 bucks from my checking account each month, it may feel like a little of the humanity of giving has been lost; but it’s better that, then that my sponsored child gets forgotten when I’m busy. It’s for this reason that we need programs, even forced programs, to ensure that our concern with the needy isn’t forever bound to the latest heart-wrenching news. Sometimes, we need a little coercion to keep things happening when our minds shift to other issues.

Of course, needed or not, programs can be run well or poorly, and compassion cannot be reduced to a government subsidy. So by all means, criticize the government when it is inefficient, misguided or poorly managed (better yet, work to improve it). Certainly, heap praise on those who don’t wait for a program to kick in, but come out in droves to support the latest victims of tragedy. But don’t forget the ongoing needs, the silent and unnoticed victims of poverty. Bureaucracy can be an evil, but it can also help keep aid going to all the little tragedies that don’t make the news. Whether through government agencies or private organizations, compassion and coercion don’t have to be enemies.