Thursday, October 11, 2007

Habits of the Heart - Robert Bellah pt. 1

“How ought we to live? How do we think about how to live? Who are we, as Americans? What is our character?”[1] So begins Habits of the Heart. Its authors, delving into the life and values of “white, middle-class Americans”[2] explore the pervasiveness of individualism. Their study and title gives homage to Alexis de Tocqueville’s Democracy in America by returning to his “admiration and anxiety” over the great strength of American individuals, as well as, the potentially isolating tendency of individualism.[3] Tocqueville described these American mores or “habits of the heart” not only as “ideas and opinions but habitual practices with respect to such things as religion, political participation, and economic life.”[4] He described it as the disposition of “each citizen to isolate himself from the mass of his fellows and withdraws into the circle of family and friends; with this little society formed to his taste, he gladly leaves the greater society to look after itself”…where individuals “imagine their whole destiny is in their hands”…finally forgetting their ancestors and descendents.[5]
This sociological study explores the nature of the individual’s participation in both public life through local politics, activism, and voluntary associations and ones private life in terms of love, marriage, and therapy. The first chapter highlights four very distinct individuals which serve to illumine their points through out the text. Even though they betray sharp contrasts in many ways they all share a common individualistic vocabulary in conversations about morality, society, and politics which they call the “first language of American individualism.”[6] Their differences often come in a variety of second languages.
These four individuals give us a broad look at cultural values and the difficulty of reconciling them. The authors claim that our “American cultural traditions define personality, achievement and the purpose of human life in ways that leave the individual suspended in glorious, but terrifying, isolation”[7] because ones selected “values and priorities” are merely a personal choice, as long as it does not interfere with the choices of others, and not justified by a “wider framework of purpose or belief.”[8] The good is then defined by one finds rewarding however, as ones preferences change, so does the good.[9]
Where there is no shared standard value system, individuals all exist on equal ground where tolerance becomes the virtue of plurality. As a private matter, one cannot impose upon another’s chosen values. In such a world, conflicts are resolved by “honesty and communication” of ones “needs and desires”[10] as matters of “technical problem solving, not moral decision.”[11] Morality then is based on the highly subjective nature of personal preferences. Values are arbitrarily chosen. As a result, successful self-reliance and self-fulfillment become the standards for choosing those preferences and yet, that self-fulfillment is done in radical isolation without means of affecting that same fulfillment for others.[12] The only, and very ironic, fragile unity that such a strident diversity is able to bring about is in the language of individual rights.


[1] Robert N. Bellah et al., Habits of the Heart: Individualism and Commitment in American Life (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1985), xli.
[2] Ibid., xliii
[3] Ibid., xlii
[4] Ibid., 37.
[5] Ibid., 37.
[6] Ibid., 20.
[7] Ibid., 6.
[8] Ibid.
[9] Ibid.
[10] Ibid., 16.
[11] Ibid., 7.
[12] Ibid., 16.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Ways of Seeing


John Berger, the art theorist, has referred to photography is a” way of seeing.” “The photographers way of seeing is reflected in his [or her] choice of subject.”[1] Berger adds “our perception or appreciation of an image depends also upon our own way of seeing.”[2] Photography, literally means “light writing” or perhaps more accurately “light drawing.”[3] Photographers essential work is with light, angles, focus, and distance to bring about a convincing composition to include what they feel should, and should not, be in the frame. Each photograph that is taken is just one of an infinite number of angles and f-stops centering on careful and creative compositions balanced by the skill of managing the mechanism. A photographer cultivates a keen vision of the world as seen through the lens of the camera.

Margaret Miles, in her Image As Insight, reminds us that religion too has often been described as a “way of seeing”[4] not just with actual eyesight, but with insight. A vision that peers beyond the common surface and into the depths of existence. This movement from eyesight to insight “implies perceiving a quality of the sensible word, a numinosity, a ‘certain slant of light,’ in which other human beings, the natural world, and objects appear in their full beauty, transformed.”[5]

Both photography and religion have been described as “ways of seeing.” For Peter Berger, photography is concerned with the creative compositions of light and matter, texture and shadow, angles and f-stops. Yet for Margaret Miles, religion uses the same eyesight as insight into the Light beyond, behind, or within the matter itself.

Perhaps there is a similar thread of awareness between the photographer and the religious person…always looking for beauty.


[1] Berger, 10.
[2] Berger, 10.
[3] Preble, 153.
[4] Miles, 2.
[5] Miles, 2.

Thursday, October 4, 2007

prodigal rat?

I had the pleasure of seeing Ratatouille a few weeks ago. While I was skeptical of a movie about rats and food, it turned out be quite a fun film. I will say that I would even like to see it again. And for one scene in particular.

There is one scene that I have asked several people about but none have seen what I feel I saw. There is a scene where the main character is reunited with his family that feels an awful lot like an inversion of the prodigal son. In the biblical story, the son leaves with is inheritance and spends it unwisely and ends up living among the pigs and longing just to eat the pig slop. He then turns home hoping his father will have him back. His father throws a magnificent feast. In the film, the son goes to live the highlife as a chef at a prominent Parisian restaurant dining on the best cuisine. He then is discovers his family is living in Paris too. He goes with his brother to meet his father. He is welcomed back with open arms and a banquet of garbage with the older brother happily looking on. There is so much that seems familiar but with the circumstances flipped.




Tuesday, October 2, 2007

the achilles of christian theology

Revelation in most the most basic theological sense is God’s self revelation to humanity. Within that idea, Christian theology commonly distinguishes two main arenas of revelation: general and special. General revelation has typically been characterized as God’s ongoing process of revealing something about the divine nature through the creation, history, moral conscience, and perhaps even a universal religious aptitude. Special revelation, however, is much more specific in both means and content: Jesus as the Christ. Through the particular and culminating revelation of Christ as the incarnate Word, known through the written Word of God, the Bible, we become acutely aware of our human predicament and God’s efforts to procure our salvation.

Revelation for Christian Theology is not just concerned with the revealed truth but also the process or means of. So the question that has and still looms large over theology is the nature of revelation. It is a question of epistemology: how do we know? It has been said that revelation is the “Achilles heel” that allows Christian systems of theology to stand or fall.

This piece hints at those ideas. The image of Christ, the summit of revelation, sits atop more general revelation of the sky. Both are upheld by the strength of the achilles tendon and heel.

Sunday, September 30, 2007

Questioning God - Final Reflections

This study has been a profound experience for me. So much more could and should be said about each psalm that carries one of the accusatory questions but space does not permit in this paper. What started off as a musing on the aggressive prayers that Israel seemed to offer has become a provocative challenge to both covenant and Creator. This study has also cemented in my mind the need for lament in our communities. Without it, our liturgies lack a certain honesty about our selves and our world. We need to overcome the isolating tendencies of individualism on both the personal and ecclesial scale and rediscover our solidarity with a crumbling and disoriented world. Rediscovering our social reality is fundamental to rediscovering lament. When we do, we will find the need for such language again. Such a language will “help the church genuinely mourn the world’s enmity and pain, give a voice to the voiceless, and witness against injustice.”[1] Lament offers the church a solid “rhetoric for prayer and reflection that befits these volatile times, a rhetoric that mourns loss, examines complicity in evil, cries for divine help, and sings and prays with hope. For indeed, what ultimately shapes lament is not the need of the creature to cry its woe, but the faithfulness of the God, who hears and acts.”[2]


[1] Sally Brown & Patrick Miller, ed., “Introduction,” in Lament: Reclaiming Practices in Pulpit, Pew, and Public Square, (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2005), xix.
[2] Ibid.

Friday, September 28, 2007

Northwestern Alumni Show

I've been asked to submit several photos for an alumni showing at Northwestern College's 125th Anniversary celebration and homecoming. The show goes up at the beginning of October with an 11 a.m. reception with the artists at Te Paske Gallery, Korver Visual Arts Center in Orange City IA. I have attached the entered photos, though I am not sure which of the four will be hung.


This image was taken in Chicago at the new Millenium Park of the Crown Fountain. It was hot humid night in August when I took this. I imagine this place to be for today's children what the fire hydrant was for city children in past decades. This evening rather than projected faces on the glass brick facade it was a waterfall cascading water down on the children.



This summer on our trip home we stopped in New Salem ND to visit friends. We decided to head to nearby Mandan for the 4th of July parade. It was hot without a cloud in the sky. And the sun seemed to be at an astounding intensity. As I stood in the shade of an awning I saw the corner windows and the layers of reflections. When I examine the picture I leads me to questions of reality...What is real and what is reflection? It takes some time for my eyes to sort things out. What is infront? What is behind? What is inside? What is out?


This is another shot at Millenium Park in Chicago. I am not sure of the dimensions of the tower but children were chasing each other around as children do. So I slowed the shutter to catch the movement of the scene. This child caught sprinting through the downpour is reduced to a shadow of movement. Having spend quite a lot of time considering the body this year it makes me think of the relative speed with which our bodies grow and decay. That while certain things have a percieved permanance, live is rushing by in front.


This shot is also from Mandan ND. Again this fits into my explorations of the physicality of the body. This is the second showing of this photo as it was jurored into the Sioux Falls Common Ground exhibit. The bright sun of the day created such stark shadows that just struck me as I wached the shadow move in strange unison with the body. And it is the physical body that makes a shadow possible.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Mechanical Body?

While I might be overly critical at times, I rarely react with such disdain for advertising slogans. Perhaps I was just in a particularly bad mood but this sign by Avera (a local hospital) just set me off a few weeks ago. It is located at a prominent location of 26th and Minnesota here in Sioux Falls that Avera often advertises at.

But this ad just refuses to mellow in my mind. It seems to flaunt the reductionistic effect that science and the modern project has had on life. Is our body simply a machine? Are humans utilitarian? If one of us is a “lemon” are we simply replaceable? Is there nothing more to us? What happened to the soul? The spirit? I’m not even opposed to the spirited body or physicalist view of Nancy Murphy, but this just seems an utter affront to the depths of a Christian anthropology.

But then again, maybe I am just expecting too much from a billboard.