De Futilitate

From C.S. Lewis' "De Futilitate":

"There is, to be sure, one glaringly obvious ground for denying that any moral purpose at all is operative in the universe: namely, the actual course of events in all its wasteful cruelty and apparent indifference, or hostility, to life. But then, as I maintain, that is precisely the ground which we cannot use. Unless we judge this waste and cruelty to be real evils we cannot of course condemn the universe for exhibiting them. Unless we take our own standard of goodness to be valid in principle (however fallible our particular applications of it) we cannot mean anything by calling waste and cruelty evils. And unless we take our own standard to be something more than ours, to be in fact an objective principle to which we are responding, we cannot regard that standard as valid. In a word, unless we allow ultimate reality to be moral, we cannot morally condemn it. The more seriously we take our own charge of futility the more we are committed to the implication that reality in the last resort is not futile at all. The defiance of the good atheist hurled at an apparently ruthless and idiotic cosmos is really an unconscious homage to something in or behind that cosmos which he recognizes as infinitely valuable and authoritative: for if mercy and justice were really only private whims of his own with no objective and impersonal roots, and if he realized this, he could not go on being indignant. The fact that he arraigns heaven itself for disregarding them means that at some level of his mind he knows they are enthroned in a higher heaven still. I cannot and never could persuade myself that such defiance is displeasing to the supreme mind. There is something holier about the atheism of a Shelley than about the theism of a Paley. That is the lesson of the Book of Job. No explanation of the problem of unjust suffering is there given: that is not the point of the poem. The point is that the man who accepts our ordinary standard of good and by it hotly criticizes divine justice receives the divine approval: the orthodox, pious people who palter with that standard in the attempt to justify God are condemned. Apparently the way to advance from our imperfect apprehension of justice to the absolute justice is not to throw our imperfect apprehensions aside but boldly to go on applying them. Just as the pupil advances to more perfect arithmetic not by throwing his multiplication table away but by working it for all it is worth."

(Hat tip to VR.)

Joyce, Nozick, and the Evolutionary Argument

[N.B.: For whatever reason, the footnotes to this paper don't show up here.]

In §§6.0-1 of his book The Myth of Morality, Richard Joyce tells a story about the evolutionary origins of our moral beliefs. According to Joyce, humans evolved first a disposition toward thinking of helping kin as morally required, and second a disposition toward thinking of reciprocal helping among non-kin individuals as morally required. Thus, our moral beliefs - or at least our disposition to view certain actions as morally required - are the result of natural selection.

In §6.4, Joyce argues that, if this story about our moral beliefs is true, then our moral beliefs are unjustified, because we have evolved the disposition to have such beliefs irrespective of their truth:

Suppose that the actual world contains real categorical [i.e., moral] requirements - the kind that would be necessary to render moral discourse true. In such a world humans will be disposed to make moral judgments ... for natural selection will make it so. Now imagine instead that the actual world contained no such requirements at all - nothing to make moral discourse true. In such a world humans will still be disposed to make these judgments ... just as they did in the first world, for natural selection will make it so.#

Put differently, because the disposition to have moral beliefs (i.e., make moral judgments) would be evolutionarily advantageous to us whether or not there were moral truths, we would evolve such a disposition - and, consequently, come to have moral beliefs - whether or not there were moral truths (and, a fortiori, whether or not our particular moral beliefs were true). But if we have come to have moral beliefs irrespective of the truth of those beliefs - if, as Joyce puts it, “the process that generates moral judgments exhibits an independence relation between judgment and truth” - then our moral beliefs are unjustified.# (For Joyce, a belief is justified only if it is formed by a reliable process such that one’s coming to have that belief depends in some way on the belief’s truth.)

In this essay, I will assume that Joyce’s story in §§6.0-1 is correct and focus exclusively on a criticism of Joyce’s argument in §6.4 made by Robert Nozick.# I will argue that Nozick’s criticism fails to undermine Joyce’s argument and that the argument is therefore sound if the story in §§6.0-1 is correct.

In response to the assertion that we have come to have moral beliefs irrespective of the truth of those beliefs, Nozick writes,

[E]thical behavior will serve inclusive fitness through serving or not harming others, through helping one's children and relatives, through acts that aid them in escaping predators, and so forth; that this behavior is helpful and not harmful is not unconnected to why (on most theorist's views) it is ethical. The ethical behavior will increase inclusive fitness through the very aspects that make it ethical, not as a side effect through features that only accidentally are connected with ethicality.#

According to Nozick, the aspects of our behavior which make it moral are the very same aspects which make it evolutionarily advantageous. As a result, Nozick argues that Joyce’s argument in §6.4 is unsound, because it is not the case that we have come to have moral beliefs irrespective of their truth.

Consider, after all, some non-moral property A of some behavior x.# Suppose that the following is true: Because x is A (because x has the property of A-ness), x is both morally required and evolutionarily advantageous.# If x were not A, then x would be neither morally required nor evolutionarily advantageous. But if x is not evolutionarily advantageous when it is not morally required - that is, precisely when it is not A - then it is not the case that we come to believe that x is morally required (or even come to be disposed to believe that x is morally required) irrespective of the truth of that belief. For if it were not true that x is morally required, then it also would not be true that x is evolutionarily advantageous, and thus not true that we would come to believe that x is morally required. Therefore, since it is not the case that we come to believe that x is morally required irrespective of the truth of that belief, Joyce’s argument in §6.4 is unsound.

In this reply to Joyce’s argument, Nozick takes into consideration two possible worlds: one (call it “Nozick-1”) in which x is A, morally required, and evolutionarily advantageous, and one (“Nozick-2”) in which x is not A, not morally required, and not evolutionarily advantageous. Clearly, it is not the case that we come to believe that x is morally required in both Nozick-1 and Nozick-2 (i.e., whether or not x is A), because x is not evolutionarily advantageous in Nozick-2 (because x is not A in Nozick-2). But this fact - the crux of Nozick’s reply - is irrelevant to Joyce’s argument, because Nozick-2 is physically different from the actual world,# and consequently not one of the worlds which Joyce takes into consideration in his argument in §6.4. After all, Joyce can agree with Nozick that we would not come to believe that x is morally required in Nozick-2 and still argue that we would come to believe that x is morally required in both of two possible worlds physically identical to the actual world which differ only in that certain behaviors (including x) are morally required in one and no behaviors (including x) are morally required in the other. But if we come to believe that x is morally required in both of those possible worlds, then we come to believe that x is morally required whether or not x is morally required, and Joyce’s argument in §6.4 stands.

This response to Nozick can be formulated more explicitly. If A does not necessarily make x morally required - if, in other words, it is possible that x is A and evolutionarily advantageous but not morally required - then we can speak of two worlds: one in which x is A, evolutionarily advantageous, and morally required (Nozick-1) and one in which x is A and evolutionarily advantageous but not morally required (“Joyce-3”).# It is Nozick-1 and Joyce-3, not Nozick-1 and Nozick-2, that correspond to the two possible worlds Joyce discusses in the excerpt from §6.4 quoted above: one in which the actual world (i.e., the world in which x is A and evolutionarily advantageous) is such that certain behaviors (including x) are morally required - that is, Nozick-1 - and one in which the actual world is such that no behaviors (including x) are morally required - that is, Joyce-3.# To undermine Joyce’s argument, Nozick must demonstrate that it is not the case that we come to believe that x is morally required in both Nozick-1 and Joyce-3 (i.e., whether or not x is morally required). But Nozick has not demonstrated that claim; he has demonstrated only that it is not the case that we come to believe that x is morally required in both Nozick-1 and Nozick-2. As a result, Joyce’s argument in §6.4 stands.

Importantly, this response to Nozick is successful only if A does not necessarily make x morally required. If A does necessarily make x morally required - if, in other words, it is impossible that x is A but not morally required - then Joyce-3 is not a possible world, and Joyce’s argument in §6.4 fails.# Joyce’s argument against such a claim can be sketched briefly here: Suppose that x is some sexual act and A is the property of being an episode of incest. Then, the claim in question (“E”) is “If x is an episode of incest, then, necessarily, x is morally forbidden.”# If E is true, then there is no possible world in which x is A but not morally forbidden, and the response to Nozick fails; if E is false, then the response to Nozick succeeds and Joyce’s argument in §6.4 stands.

One could defend E by contending that it is simply a brute fact, but Joyce finds such a contention ad hoc and unattractive,# as do I. Consider, in addition, the following famous occurrence of incest: Oedipus married his mother Jocasta and had sex with her without knowing that she was his mother. Is he morally responsible for these episodes of incest (assuming that they were morally forbidden) if he did not recognize them as such? If not, were his sexual acts with his mother morally forbidden even if he did not know that they were episodes of incest? It is plausible - or at least possible - that they were not morally forbidden under the circumstances. But if that claim is true, then E is false.#

Alternatively, one could attempt to establish E by employing some intermediate step: “If x is an episode of incest, then x is psychologically traumatic to someone; and if x is psychologically traumatic to someone, then, necessarily, x is morally forbidden.” But this first conditional appears to be false; as Joyce argues, “We can easily imagine circumstances in which ... incest does not lead to [psychological] trauma” (e.g., circumstances in which the parties committing incest do not realize that they are committing incest, as was the case for Oedipus and Jocasta).# Indeed, any such conditional appears to be false; counterexamples such as the Oedipus counterexample can be offered for all of them. As a result, there appears to be no reason to accept E, and consequently no reason to reject the initial response to Nozick.

Nozick’s reply to Joyce’s evolutionary argument fails once we recognize that Joyce’s argument takes Nozick-1 and Joyce-3 into consideration rather than Nozick-1 and Nozick-2. Furthermore, the claim that A necessarily makes x morally required (or forbidden) - which, if true, could salvage Nozick’s reply - is not very plausible. Thus, Joyce’s argument in §6.4 is sound if Joyce’s story in §§6.0-1 is correct.

"All That Is Here Are Humans"

Wow.

Can We Question God?

A few weeks ago, I saw this video from Francis Chan, which was made in response this video from Rob Bell.

One of Francis Chan's main points is that we should not submit God to our own fallible reasoning. He quotes Isaiah 55.8-9:

"'For My thoughts are not your thoughts,
Neither are your ways My ways,'
Declares the Lord.
'As the Heavens are higher than the Earth,
So are My ways higher than your ways
And My thoughts than your thoughts.'"

But is the point of Isaiah 55 that God's ways and thoughts are inscrutable? Look at vv. 6-9:

"Seek the Lord while He may be found;
Call on Him while He is near.
Let the wicked forsake his way
And the evil man his thoughts.
Let him turn to the Lord, and He will have mercy on him,
And to our God, for He will freely pardon.
'For My thoughts are not your thoughts,
Neither are your ways My ways,'
Declares the Lord.
'As the Heavens are higher than the Earth,
So are My ways higher than your ways
And My thoughts than your thoughts.'"

The point does not seem to be that God's ways and thoughts are inscrutable and beyond (or above) our comprehension, but that they are superior. God's ways and thoughts are not necessarily difficult for wicked men to understand, but rather difficult to follow.

That being said, I do not disagree that God's ways and thoughts are beyond our comprehension. (Romans 11.33-36 makes that much clear.) But I wonder if there is more to the story than Francis Chan says.

At first glance, it sounds sinful, faithless, and un-Christian to submit God's actions to our judgment. However, according to Genesis 18.16ff, Abraham does exactly that. Abraham balks at God's original plan to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah entirely; in response, God does not correct him, but instead listens to him. Can we question God? Apparently, God's answer to Abraham was yes.

Of course, just four chapters later, Abraham submits to God's (famously inscrutable) command to sacrifice Isaac. Clearly, submission is in order at certain points, because God's will is not always easy to understand. However, God's will is not always difficult to understand, either; after all, God has revealed Himself to us through His Word.

Are all questions honest, humble, and faithful questions? Certainly not. But nor are all questions deceitful, arrogant, and faithless. Sometimes, Abraham's faith called him to submit; at other times, however, Abraham's faith called him to question (and even to challenge) God. If Abraham's obedience to God in Genesis 22 was an act of faith, then so were his questions in Genesis 18.

Article on Disciples Today

Roger Lamb graciously asked me to write a brief article for Disciples Today. Here it is.

(I love how easy I am to spot in the second picture because of my purple hat. Go Tigers!)

Of Prayer and Pride

Recently, a friend and I made a prayer pact: We decided to pray for a certain length of time each day and to hold each other accountable to the pact. I faithfully honored the pact every day - until yesterday, when I forgot to pray for the required length of time. When I first realized that I had forgotten, I became somewhat frustrated with myself. Then I began to think about why I was frustrated with myself.

The reason my friend and I had decided to make our prayer pact was obvioust enough: Having faith in the power of prayer, we wished to be consistent in daily prayer in spite of our cluttered schedules. My objective (and my friend's) was a stronger prayer life - nothing more. And yet it quickly became clear to me that I was not frustrated with myself because I had failed to meet this objective. After all, my prayer life had become more consistent as a result of my pact; my one day of "insufficient" prayer, though unfortunate, did not seriously hinder my walk with God. On the contrary, I was frustrated with myself because I had not met the terms of the pact, because I would no longer be able to tell myself that I had fulfilled the pact - because, in my quest for righteousness, I had left no room for grace.

The problem was not that I was striving to pray more consistently, or even that I had made a specific, potentially "legalistic" pact with my friend. The problem was that I cared about being righteous for the sake of thinking of myself as righteous, rather than caring about righteousness for righteousness' (or, better yet, Jesus') sake. The problem was that I was more worried about demonstrating to myself that I was a man of prayer than I was worried about actually being a man of prayer.

My mistake reminded of this quotation from J.B. Phillips' When God was Man:

"The 'good' man, the man whose god is righteousness, has as his life’s ambition the keeping of rules and commandments and the keeping of himself uncontaminated by the world. This sounds admirable; but, as the truth of Christ showed, the whole of such living, the whole drive and ambition, the whole edifice, is self-centered. That entire process of effort must be abandoned if a man is to give himself in love to God and his fellows. He must lose his life if he is ever going to find it."

For me, an admirable enough pursuit - prayer, of all things! - became a self-centered means of proving myself to myself, of earning my salvation. I had been pursuing righteousness so that I could avoid my need for grace, so that my faith could rest in my own good deeds and not in Christ's redeeming sacrifice. Of course, when I made the prayer pact, I was not consciously attempting to pray my way out of a need for grace; but that is what happened nonetheless.

The culprit, unsurprisingly, was the great sin, pride. And there is an important lesson here, I think, for all of us. In my experience, there are two kinds of people in this world: those who do not think they need forgiveness and those who do not think they can be forgiven. We can identify the former as the "self-righteous souls" - the souls out of touch with their own sins - and the latter as the "self-pitying souls" - the souls out of touch with God's amazing grace.

Interestingly, the self-righteous soul and the self-pitying soul are not that different, for self-righteousness and self-pity are both manifestations of pride. It is pride that reassures us that we have no need of grace, that our sins are minor or justifiable, that we are actually quite good people (and certainly better than him or her); and when we do (inevitably) stumble and fall, when the truth of our sinfulness becomes inescapable, when we can no longer pretend that we have it all together, it is pride that tells us that it is too late, that nothing can be done, that we are eternally stained and unforgivable.

Notice how these two superficially different attitudes are both fundamentally egocentric in nature. The self-righteous soul cares not at all (or very little) that his good deeds please God or benefit his fellow men; he cares only that his reputation with others - and with himself - be preserved. The guilty soul cares not at all (or very little) that his sins have injured God; he cares only that he can no longer think of himself as good, that he has toppled himself from his own imaginary pedestal. The self-centeredness evident in both cases is the hallmark and calling card of pride.

Pride convinces the self-righteous soul that grace is beneath him and the self-pitying soul that grace is above him. Both are wretched lies, but they are not lies that are easy to spot; the devil is too cunning for that. No, these lies can only be discovered if we are on the lookout for them - rather like the moonwalking bear.

If we are willing to catch our pride in the act, we will, of course, succeed. ("Seek, and ye shall find" goes for sin, too.) After all, pride is plenty common, and it can be found virtually anywhere - as I recently learned, even in prayer. Unfortunately, the first step with pride, as with alcoholism, is admitting we have a problem - and this we are not always willing to do. If we are courageous enough, however, to resist our pride - to pray for humility, to seek advice and correction, to submit to others, to confess our sins, to search out our hearts, and to cast off our façades - then the Scriptures are clear: "Humble yourselves before the Lord, and He will lift you up" (James 4.10).

Russell on Loving One's Neighbor

Christ said, 'Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself', and when asked 'Who is thy neighbour?' went on to the parable of the Good Samaritan. If you wish to understand this parable as it was understood by his hearers, you should substitute 'Germans and Japanese' for Samaritan. I fear my modern day Christians would resent such a substitution, because it would compel them to realize how far they have departed from the teachings of the founder of their religion."

Tolstoy on the Rich and Powerful

From Tolstoy's "What Is Art?":

"No longer able to believe in the Church religion, whose falsehood they had detected, and incapable of accepting true Christian teaching, which denounced their whole manner of life, these rich and powerful people, stranded without any religious conception of life, involuntarily returned to that pagan view of things which places life's meaning in personal enjoyment. And then among the upper classes what is called the 'Renaissance of science and art' took place, which was really not only a denial of every religion, but also an assertion that religion was unnecessary."

Attitudes and Points

Bad attitude + good point < good attitude + bad point. It is better to have a good attitude than a good point. If I have a good attitude, I'll figure out the good points eventually. If I have a bad attitude, I'm in trouble.

Lewis on First Things

From God in the Dock:

"The woman who makes a dog the centre of her life loses, in the end, not only her human usefulness and dignity but even the proper pleasure of dog-keeping.

The man who makes alcohol his chief good loses not only his job but his palate and all power of enjoying the earlier (and only pleasurable) levels of intoxication.

It is a glorious thing to feel for a moment or two that the whole meaning of the universe is summed up in one woman - glorious so long as other duties and pleasures keep tearing you away from her. But clear the decks and so arrange your life (it is sometimes feasible) that you will have nothing to do but contemplate her, and what happens?

Of course this law has been discovered before, but it will stand re-discovery. It may be stated as follows: every preference of a small good to a great, or partial good to a total good, involves the loss of the small or partial good for which the sacrifice is made."

2 Corinthians 8 and Giving

I read 2 Corinthians 8 today in my quiet time and was taken aback by how much we can learn from it about giving! My impression was that the Bible did not say very much specifically about financial giving; I do not think that impression took the wealth of information in 2 Corinthians 8 (pardon the pun) into account. I recommend reading it yourself, but here are some of the things that I noticed:

• Paul describes the generosity of the Macedonian churches as a grace given to them by God (v. 1).
• "[I]n a severe test of affliction, their abundance of joy and their extreme poverty have overflowed in a wealth of generosity on their part. For they gave according to their means, as I can testify, and beyond their means, of their own accord, begging us earnestly for the favor of taking part in the relief of the saints" (vv. 2-4). Wow!
• We should "excel" in our giving (v. 7).
• Our giving reflects the sincerity of our love (v. 8).
• The goal is equality (vv. 13-15). That is certainly worth some thought.

The Log and the Speck

The simple message of Jesus' famous speck-in-the-eye analogy in Matthew 7.3-5 is that hypocrisy is bad. And that is a worthwhile message, as far as it goes.

But I think the analogy runs deeper than that. Notice what Jesus says in v. 5: "You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye." What Jesus is saying is not "Focus on your own log; the speck is none of your business." Rather, he says that you cannot see clearly enough to take the speck out of your brother's eye until you have first dealt with your own log. Intuitively, hypocrites do not judge themselves as they should. Jesus' point, though, is that hypocrites cannot judge others as they should as a result of their hypocrisy.

I am sure this is not an original observation, but I had not really thought about it before.

It Shall Not Be Forgiven

Very interesting.

Fish Tank Post: Balance

Here it is.

Fish Tank Post: The Myth of Half-Christianity

Here it is. (A bit rushed on my part, but oh well.)

The Didache

Richard Beck's post about the Διδαχή (Didache), or The Teaching of the Twelve Apostles, got me re-interested in that early Christian text, and so I read Tony Jones' translation (linked to in Dr. Beck's post) in about twenty minutes. I thought I'd jot down a few quick thoughts on different verses that struck me:

• 2.5-6: I've always wondered about how absolutely we should apply commands like "Give to every one who asks you." For example, should I give money to a homeless person if I know that person will use the money to buy cigarettes or liquor? The saying in v. 6 - "Let your alms sweat in your hands until you know to whom to give them" - suggests that it is wise to use discretion with our almsgiving. This discretion should not lessen our generosity, but it should focus it.
• 2.2: Notice the prohibition of abortion.
• 2.7: "Hate no one; correct some, pray for others, and some you should love more than your own life."
• 3.3: Filthy talking is put on the same level as lust.
• 4.2: Daily fellowship! Apparently, they needed it, too.
• 4.6: Hmm...  
• 4.8: This comes close to saying that Christians shouldn't have private property (echoing Acts 2). We could probably do a lot better in sharing what we have; after all, if we will share everything in Heaven (as the author argues), why not share everything on Earth?
• 4.9: Spare the rod and spoil the child!
• 4.10-11: It seems that the early Christians had servants - or slaves, for the Greek word (δοῦλος) translated "servants" here and "slaves" in Ephesians 6 (among others) is the same. This is something worth keeping in mind (not to condone modern institutionalized slavery).
• 4.14: Confess before you pray!
• 6.2: "For if you are able to bear the entire yoke of the Lord, you will be perfect; but if you are not able, then at least do what you can." Perhaps a reference to martyrdom?
• 6.3: It seems that the author(s) weren't aware of 1 Corinthians 8. This is interesting for determining how authoritative we should consider early Christian texts to be (in this case, this particular text seems to go against Paul's writings)  and for understanding how doctrinally and theologically united the early Christians were.
• 7.4: Already, the Christians seem to be moving away from the immediate baptisms of Acts. I am not sure if this is a good thing; after all, we take our time as well!
• 8.2-3: We probably do not focus enough on the Lord's Prayer.
• 9.4: This is a side of Communion that we almost certainly neglect: the communal aspect. For the author(s) here, the Eucharist (i.e., Communion) symbolizes the Church's desire for unity. (And, of course, the Eucharist was originally part of a meal - a social event.)
• 9.5: Baptism marked the entry of Christians into the Church - not faith. Notice that candidates for baptism (i.e., catechumens) - people who were presumably believers - were not yet considered full members of the Church.
• 10.6: I love this.
• 11.1: Teachers have a distinct role in the Church.
• 11.3ff: "Apostles" and "prophets" seem to be used relatively interchangeably. Also, the different tests for evaluating the legitimacy of prophets are interesting.
• 11.7: Probably a reference to the unforgivable sin (cf. Matthew 12.31-32, Mark 3.29-30). Not sure what to make of that.
• 12.1: Discretion!
• 12.4: "[A] Christian should not live idle in your midst."
• 13.1-3: Yeah, full-time ministry! (Seriously, though, that's what it sounds like.) Notice that teachers are entitled to support just as much as prophets.
• 14.1: cf. 4.14.
• 14.2: This is something Jesus commands as well - and yet I have never (to my knowledge) seen it practiced today. Maybe we should have a time for reconciliation and confession before every Communion.
• 15.1: Bishops (what we would call "elders") and deacons (literally "servants") are appointed by their churches - not by some higher central authority. And they "render to [us] the service of prophets and teachers."
• 16: A lot of interesting things here about the last days, imminent eschatology, and all that jazz.
• 16.2: cf. 4.2. We come together "seeking the things that are good for [our] souls."
• 16.4: Anti-Christ?

Overall, I find this glimpse into the practices of the first-century Christians quite illuminating. Nonetheless, I cannot help but agree with most of the early Christians that the Didache is non-canonical; it just doesn't have the right feeling about it. But it is very instructive, and worth the twenty minutes.

Is David Too Vindictive?

To me, at least, that can often appear to be the case. Consider, for example, Psalm 35.8-9:

"Let destruction take them by surprise!
Let the net they hid catch them!
Let them fall into destruction!
Then I will rejoice in the Lord
And be happy because of his deliverance."

On the face of it, David seems to be rejoicing in the destruction of his enemies. And, of course, there are countless passages in the Psalms similar to this one.

Notice, however, what David writes a few verses later (vv. 13-15):

"When they were sick, I wore sackcloth,
And refrained from eating food.
(If I am lying, may my prayers go unanswered!)
I mourned for them as I would for a friend or my brother.
I bowed down in sorrow as if I were mourning for my mother.
But when I stumbled, they rejoiced and gathered together;
They gathered together to ambush me.
They tore at me without stopping to rest."

David - long before Jesus exhorted anyone to love his enemies - prayed and fasted for his enemies as though they were his friends. That strikes me as remarkable - and it should give us all pause when we think about David and Old Testament morality in general.

Fish Tank Post: The Myth of Individual Christianity

Here it is.

Ichthus Article: Façades

Here it is.

Fish Tank Post: Where Were We in Haiti?

Here it is.