Of Morals and Metaphors: #2

In my last note, I spoke of the dominant moral metaphor of modern times: a straight line, spanning good and evil. I also noted several points of weakness in that metaphor, and asked how else we might visualize questions of morality.

In this post I want to offer the first of two alternate metaphors, both of which originated (for me) in the writings of C.S. Lewis.

The first metaphor shows up in his "Space Trilogy," particularly Out of the Silent Planet. The hero, Ransom, is a rather gawky linguist who finds himself unceremoniously deposited on the alien planet of Malacandra. He quickly learns the language, but is surprised to find the natives have no word for "badness" or "evil." This actually reflects the medieval mythopoeia in which Lewis was grounded, a cosmology in which the Fall of Man affected the earth alone and left the heavens unblemished.

Ransom is forced to improvise, to invent a new vocabulary for moral negatives. In order to warn the natives about his enemy, the imperious Dr. Weston, Ransom lands on the term "bent."

As a metaphor, "bent" lacks the simple elegance of a linear black-white spectrum or gray-scale. But through a single modification -- a slight angle in place of a straight line -- it has access to a far richer pool of image associations.


Humans live in a notoriously intractable world. Cars break down in the middle of nowhere, household appliances have to be replaced with alarming frequency, and rain will inevitably fall on the first day of a week-long camping trip. In my family, we call that "God's sense of humor."

This world is profoundly non-cooperative. Even at the most basic level of existence, Nature sometimes seems to rear and buck, itching to rid herself of her riders. Take our bodies, for instance. As Lewis notes in The Four Loves, St. Francis of Assisi was in the habit of calling his body "Brother Ass." Is this not the  perfect and quintessential expression to encapsulates the feelings of bemusement and occasional frustration that every man and woman feels at some point in their lives towards to the very bodies by which they live?

So we see the metaphor is indeed a potent one. Through it we may unconsciously associate evil with the malfunctioning machine, a pipe warped out of alignment, a plumb-line or ruler that do not give a straight line, or in some cases a decidedly hostile force of nature.

As stated before, every sin is at root a corrupted or distorted image of virtue. This mental link conveys that crucial information with efficiency and concision.

But in the last analysis, this too fails. The metaphors withstands most critique, far more than the linear model. Indeed, it may be said it withstands all critique but one: darkness is the absence of light.

Evil is purely the negation of the good. We may treat sin as "bent" or corrupted virtue, and this is true in many senses. But the evil lies solely in the bend, in the corruption. Evil consists in what a thing is not, or what it was but is no longer. It never lies in the thing itself. The thing itself is purely good, for only the good can exist in reality.

This is a theological point, but one we will expand on in the next post. In the interim, once again we face the same question. What other ways might we rely upon, to visualize good and evil? What metaphors might incorporate this latest insight, and how might it also incorporate the content-rich imagery of these previous metaphors?

Stay tuned. It's quite a treat.

Of Morals and Metaphors: #1

My previous posts on metaphors and persuasion were mostly by way of introducing this next topic. For the sake of brevity, I'm splitting up my thoughts into multiple installments. For the sake of readership, I'll try to end each post with a thrilling cliff-hanger of a question. For the sake of my own self-respect I probably won't try too hard.

We've already established that our rational minds rely on images and metaphors to an impressive and often unconscious degree. This is particularly true when it comes to questions of of morality.

How do we visualize good and evil?

The moral imagination of the modern age is dominated to a startling degree by an ancient Gnostic heresy called Manichaeism. According to the Manichees, good and evil were equal and opposite forces. Good was associated with God and a spiritual "Kingdom of Light;" evil with Satan and a physical "Kingdom of Darkness."

In other words, the Manichees asserted a basically dualistic moral universe. Sound familiar?

The key metaphor in our modern understanding of good and evil is a straight line: good on one end, evil on the other, and a morally gray no-man's land in between. This metaphor is robust, and with good reason: its  strength is its simplicity. But it has one fatal flaw: namely, it just ain't so.

Good and evil are not equal opposites. Every vice is, at root, the corrupted or distorted image of a corresponding virtue. But the reverse is not true: virtue is not at heart merely glorified vice. Likewise, the most successful lie is a half-truth, a fiction spliced with just enough fact to make it persuasive. On the contrary, the most successful truths are judged, not according to persuasiveness, but by fidelity to the real world.

Right and wrong don't even compete in the same weight class.

Thus the question remains: how else might we visualize good and evil? Tune in tomorrow for the answer.

Commentary on Scripture: Romans 11

I say then, God has not rejected his people, has He? May it never be! For I too am an Israelite, a descendant of Abraham, of the tribe of Benjamin.

Romans 11:1 ~~ Continuing from the previous chapter, Paul asks: if hearing leads to faith (cf. 10:17), and Israel has heard yet has no evident faith, does that mean God has rejected Israel?

Romans 11:1-5 ~~ God has not forsaken the people of the covenant, the children of Israel whom he foreknew. Rather, despite their disobedience to the gospel, God has preserved a remnant of their number.

Romans 11:5-6 ~~ The remnant of Israel is preserved no longer on the basis of works, but by grace.

Romans 11:7-10 ~~ "What Israel is seeking, it has not obtained, but those who were chosen obtained it, and the rest were hardened." This initially seems to point to a strict predestination along the lines of Calvinism. On the other hand, the verses quotes immediately thereafter refer to God giving them "a spirit of stupor" (from Isaiah 29:10) and "eyes to see not and ears to hear not, down to this very day" (from Deuteronomy 29:4). The next quote, pulled from Psalms 69:22-23, speaks of the "table" becoming "a snare and a trap." This seems to be a reference to Paul's earlier reference to Israel's pursuit of righteousness by works (Romans 9:31-33). Thus it seems clear that God's involvement in their "stupor" and blindness was in providing an opportunity for their disability to be demonstrated (see my Commentary on Romans 7, in particular 7:7-13). The commandments of the law became their snare, and their over-reliance on works became their stupor.

Romans 11:11-15 ~~ Israel's rejection of the Messiah (which resulted in His Passion and Death) produced riches for the world and specifically for the Gentiles. Paul asks, as if to himself, what greater grace would come when the Jews (the chosen people of God, according to the covenant) accept the Messiah? "If their rejection is the reconciliation of the world, what will their acceptance be but life from the dead?" How much greater blessings will come by their faithfulness, when so much good was wrought by their infidelity? In a sense these verses are paralleled by the ending of C.S. Lewis' science-fiction novel Perelandra, which depicts a counter-historical Garden of Eden in which the woman Eve does not succumb to temptation. Even though we speak of the "blessed fault" (for the entry of sin into this world led to the mystery of the Incarnation), we cannot know what greater blessings would have come had our Parents remained faithful to God.

Romans 11:16-18 ~~ Paul warns that the Gentiles who are grafted like branches onto the root (which is Christ) ought not take pride their new station and elevation over the unbelieving Jews.

Romans 11:19-24 ~~ For all his protestations of "neither Jew nor Greek" (Galatians 3:28, Colossians 3:11, Romans 3:29), Paul writes at length about the subtle distinctions between Jews and Gentiles, or between the "natural" and the "wild" branches of the vine.

Romans 11:25 ~~ "I do not want you, brethren, to be uninformed of this mystery -- so that you will not be wise in your own estimation." This verse reminds me of that famous (and probably apocryphal) quote by Socrates, when he was told by the Delphic Oracle that he was the wisest man in Athens: "I cannot be the wisest, for I know nothing!" Yet he soon realized that was precisely why he was wise: he recognized his own ignorance.

Romans 11:25-27 ~~ Paul speaks of a partial hardening of the Jews "until the fullness of the Gentiles has come in," at which point there will be a full conversion of Israel as prophesied.

Romans 11:28~~ "From the standpoint of the gospel they are enemies for your sake" -- that is, in practical terms, they persecute you and are your enemies. However, "from the standpoint of God's choice, they are beloved for the sake of the fathers" -- that is, in objective and ontological terms, they are the children of the covenant.

Romans 11:29 ~~ Great verse: "For the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable."

Romans 11:30-32 ~~ This passage is pretty involved and rather confusing. 1) "You once were disobedient" but "shown mercy because of their disobedience." 2) "These also now have been disobedient" that they might share in the mercy granted to you! The second part is particularly complicated, as the referent for "these" is unclear and the later syntax doesn't seem to clarify the statement's meaning.

Romans 11:33-36 ~~ Paul rocks. This is another impromptu doxology, this time focused on the mysteries and mysterious ways of God, who abounds in mercy even in our disobedience and rebellion.

Little Old Ladies of God

As I've transitioned from an evangelical Protestant background to the Roman Catholic Church, I've kept my eyes open for similarities and commonalities. There are, of course, the core beliefs that all Christians accept -- what C.S. Lewis once dubbed 'mere Christianity.' But I've noticed something else.

No matter the church, no matter the denomination or the beliefs, there is a single unfailing constant that you can expect to see in any Christian community. There will always be little old ladies, who sit in the back pews of the church and pray constantly. They don't attract a lot of attention, but they're there. I've known quite a few of them, and they are generally as idiosyncratic as the rest of us. But, in addition to being human, they are spiritual giants and living saints, always ready to offer prayers for others in the Church.

There are two reason I'm bringing this up. First, I bring it up because I think these ladies deserve some credit. I wouldn't wonder if the Church isn't as stable and vibrant as it is because of their prayers constantly strengthening the foundation.

The other reason I bring it up is because of the Virgin Mary. It turns out this was a really easy way for me as a Protestant to understand Mary's role in the Catholic Church.

Mary is the ultimate Little Old Lady of God. She's the mother of our Lord, mother to the Church, and she has seen it all.  She's always ready with an encouraging word when we come to her in need. She tends to avoid the spotlight or the pulpit, and doesn't seek out attention for herself. When we ask for guidance she invariably points us God-ward. But there she sits, waiting patiently in the back pew, listening and praying. She's kind of awesome that way.

Of course, there are many other reasons why Catholics respect and venerate Mary. But this strikes me as a pretty solid beginning. The Church is built on the prayers of those little old ladies who sit in the back, that  inconspicuous legion of unassuming saints. And Mary is first among them.

Metaphors as Persuasion

I've already written about how metaphors are the fuel of the mind, and how we would be unable to think without them. This can make it quite difficult to displace a set of poor metaphors in our mind, since we must replace them almost instantly.

However, there are occasions when such a paradigm shift becomes feasible, when we are able to consciously identify and sort through our mental metaphors, determining which to preserve or permit and which we wish to discard. In some cases this may be an easy process, especially when the metaphors relate to a subject or idea to which we have not given much thought. If an idea arose without undergoing strict scrutiny at the beginning, and has not given rise to any other ideas, then it is so isolated that it might be easily uprooted and removed.

But when the life of the mind is active, such cases are vanishingly rare. In any other cases, the process of sorting and shifting paradigms can take considerable time and effort. It may even require emotional endurance, when opinions run high on an issue or when there is personal history involved. In any event, persuasion can be quite difficult, even when you are yourself both the agent and the object of such persuasion.

Yet in many cases we are not the primary agent of our own persuasion. Often we find ourselves receiving new metaphor-sets en masse from others.

This is the power of fiction. By presenting a coherent world, or a narrative within that world, in which a different set of images and metaphors is tacitly accepted, fiction enables us to envision a world in which we might ourselves accept such images or metaphors. Alternately, by offering up such images and metaphors within the story itself, fiction may provide the fuel for our mental fires, and may serve as a catalyst for our rational imaginations.

This is also the power of rhetoric.

Why do we imagine that good rhetoricians and persuasive public speakers are so apt to use emotive or metaphoric language. Surely they would tire from it if it were merely decorative. Thus, the imagery they use is not meant to merely beautify their main argument. Rather, the imagery carries the argument within itself.

There are three essential elements of classical rhetoric: the ethos, or the credibility of the speaker; the logos, or the rational content of a speech; and the pathos, or the emotional content of the speech. Many classic texts on rhetoric tend to minimize the importance of pathos. They treat it as the ugly stepsister of the family, or (more accurately) as the gorgeous blonde sister who looks the part but has nothing going on upstairs. Pathos may beautify a speech or add emotional resonance to a message, but without logos, without true and substantial content for a message, rhetoric becomes an endeavor in futility.

This simple formulation ignores the vital role that pathos and emotions generally play in the persuasion process. Adding emotional resonance to a speech is good for more than grabbing and holding the attention of an audience. Emotional resonance is necessary to changes minds in the first place.

Good rhetoric doesn't merely feed a listener a stream of statements in propositional logic form. Good rhetoric must also feed the listener a stream of images.

We think in terms of images. If all we hear are propositional statements of logic, the only way we will be persuaded is if we construct the images for ourselves. But if we receive them along with the logical content, we are able to take a shortcut and find ourselves at home with the speaker's position much more easily.

The function of pathos, the emotional content of a speech, is not limited to mere decoration. Pathos is not inert; it is not moribund. The non-rational content provided by images is both the spoonful of sugar and the medicine itself. If persuasion is a specialty car, metaphors serve as both the custom paint job and the engine.

Metaphors are the essential vehicles of persuasion. The pun was regrettable, but the point is not. Metaphors are, quite simply, the means by which we are moved.

Michael Flynn: Eifelheim

If any of my readers are considering a career as an Internet troll, they should first familiarize themselves with the rules and regulations. That's right: as in any respectable profession, there are standards and practices to trolling through forums and comment threads. The first rule of trolling is this: if at any moment you find yourself sparring with a man called "Ye Olde Statistician," run. Flee the scene and burn your bridges. You are profoundly outmatched.

Imagine if Bruce Wayne's alter-ego (for those of you who sprang from the womb as fully grown adults, that would be Batman) had an alter-ego of its own, even more shadowy and lethal. Meet Michael Flynn: statistician by day, well-regarded science-fiction author by night, and veteran troll-hunter in the twilight hours. I first encountered "Ye Olde Statistician" deploying his arsenal of historical, scientific, and philosophical knowledge against a horde of angry trolls on a theology blog. I decided to look for more of his posts online, and that's when I discovered he was a published author.

"Eifelheim" was first published in 1987 as a novella, focusing on a pair of scientists who discover the startling truth about the medieval German village called Eifelheim, which had mysteriously disappeared at some point in the late fourteenth century. From this beginning came the novel, published in 2006. In addition to the original scenes set in the present day, Flynn wrote a parallel narrative set in medieval Eifelheim itself. It is in these sections that we find the meat of the story, and Flynn's masterful command of medieval history.

Commentary on Scripture: Romans 10

Brethren, my heart's desire and my prayer to God for them is for their salvation. For I testify about them that they have a zeal for God, but not in accordance with knowledge.

Romans 10:1-2 ~~ Paul desires salvation for his fellow Jews. This desire seems oriented around something not yet attained, though perhaps in light of their (albeit misguided) zeal for God, something in the process of being attained. This all relates back to the relationship between knowledge and salvation that is discussed at length in Romans 2.

Romans 10:3 ~~ The failure to be subject to God -- is born both out of ignorance of God's righteousness, and by the desire to established themselves as arbiters of righteousness.

Romans 10:4 ~~ Christ is the end (telos: goal, purpose) of the Law for the faithful.

Romans 10:5 ~~ According to Moses (Lev. 18:5), if you practice the righteousness based on the law, you will live by that righteousness.

Romans 10:6-7 ~~ But the righteousness of faith does not speak of anything in our own power, that we might bring Christ into the world or draw Him out of death (the Incarnation and Resurrection are informally referenced as bi-modal peaks of Christ's life and ministry).

Romans 10:8 ~~ Righteousness based on faith proclaims the nearness of the Word in our mouth and heart, that being "the word of faith which we are preaching" (the gospel transmitted by the Apostles).

Romans 10: 9-10 ~~ Verse 9 is the more famous of the two: "If you confess with you mouth Jesus as Lord, and believe in your heart that Christ raised Him from the dead, you will be saved." But verse 10 is the essential filter and gloss of that previous verse: namely, that the belief in our hearts results in righteousness, while the confession of our lips results in salvation. That's something to ponder.

Romans 10: 11-13 ~~ Paul speaks in these verses of the universal and perpetual accessibility of God's grace, and thus the universal possibility of our salvation.

Romans 10:14-15 ~~ "How then will they call on Him in whom they have not believed? How will they believe in Him whom that have no heard? And how will they hear without a preacher?" Paul speaks of the necessity of the evangelical Church, and the necessary connection between an evangelical mission and the Apostolic commission. We are sent because we have heard, and we heard it from the Apostles, from those who bore witness to Christ.

Romans 10:16-22 ~~ Faith is enabled by hearing... but Israel has heard without belief. Why then has it no faith?

Romans 10 is an odd chapter, full of brief tangents that fill the void between Romans 9 and Romans 11, both of which cover the theme "Jew and Gentile" in a great deal of depth. Romans 10 seems more oriented on the "how" than the "why": how did we come to belief, and how did Israel come to lack it? This leads Paul to discuss the role of the Law and the law of righteousness, the centrality of a Credo for salvation and of public evangelism for the Church.